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joelsmochi · 11 months

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Dirty Lies

SUMMARY: Joel realized how much you matured since he last saw you 4 years ago and can’t resist you. WARNINGS: age gap [reader is 22, joel is 35], smut minors dni, no descriptions of reader aside from having shoulder length hair & having a girly sense of fashion, pervy!joel, shy-ish!joel, needy!joel, reader seduces joel. 18+ WARNINGS: infidelity if you squint (technicalities people), brief objectification, masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, reader was a lying little shit in high school but it paid off WC: 7.3k [please read author's note]

A/N: this was originally going to be a 15k word long smut as part of my LDR series, but........ I figured the more parts I can make out of it the more content I can produce, so here is part one of Us Against The World. Enjoy :) Edit: I’m rereading this and noticing a few typos, I apologize about those! Grammarly isn’t so helpful sometimes…

There you were in your blue tank top and yoga pants laying with your father’s dog in the middle of the front yard. You had just returned from New York a few days earlier from college, which your father amicably told Joel about over a few beers the week before.

Joel was expecting to see your 18-year-old self: long hair, sparkly eyeshadow, dressed in your late mother’s hand-me-downs from the 80s. But that was no longer you.

You dressed more modern and age-appropriate. Your hair was shorter, looked curlier, and you had highlights. Your eyebrows were thinner and your face was free from the loud makeup your teenage self was accustomed to. Joel would make jokes from time to time about how he believed you were just born with glitter all over your eyes.

Joel felt a little silly thinking you wouldn’t have changed. Who doesn’t make a drastic change when they leave high school? He hadn’t found the time to stop by and say hello but he wasn’t necessarily rushing it.

He’d met your father when you guys moved in next door in 1993 and he remembered you introduced yourself the second you saw him and Sarah playing outside despite your father’s protests.

You told Joel about how your dad was only being grumpy because he’d just turned thirty-six. Something about getting old. You didn’t bother to retain that information.

But here you were: all grown up. It reminded Joel of the day he overheard you and your best friend talking about how handsome you thought he was. He wondered if you still felt that way.

You sat up, feeling the sense that someone was watching you; your eyes scanned around until instinct made you look to the same window Joel was standing in.

For some reason, he didn’t feel embarrassed about being caught staring. He offered you an energetic smile and you took in his appearance.

He hadn’t changed much — his hair was a little longer and he had a few more fine lines across his face, but he was still the handsome man you remembered and admired.

You stand up and walk over to the window prompting him to open it.

“Hey, creep,” you teased with a big grin, “how ya been?”

Even your voice sounded different with its blend of Texas and New York. It was sultry with a hint of confidence. He tried not to let his weaknesses show.

“I’m doing all right… Sorry for starin’. Could hardly tell that was you,” he responded.

You just barely saw his eyes glance down to your chest, and it made you smirk.

Had this been any other man you’d have your fist meeting their jaw, but it wasn’t any other man. It was Joel. You hadn’t forgotten that he was attractive, but you did forget just how attractive. Or maybe his sexiness came with his age.

Not like it mattered anyways. It wasn’t like you could make a move.

“I been gettin’ that a lot… Dad tells me you’re a contractor now with Tommy.”

Joel nodded and said, “Yep, hated workin’ for other people, so…”

You were unsure if you were being awkward or if it was just… Awkward.

“Cool. Yeah, no, I get that. How is Tommy, by the way? Is he still really cute?” You giggled.

This made Joel roll his eyes. “Not cuter than me,” he answered begrudgingly. You watched how his eyes faltered again, trailing from your lips to your belly ring. “Your dad let you get that?”

You scoffed and waved your hand lazily as if you were swatting his condescending tone away. “One, Dad can’t tell me what to do with my body. And two, Tommy was always the cuter one.”

“S’that so?” Joel grunted as if he were tempted to laugh.

You gave him a cunning look and nodded. “Yeah. But you were always more handsome.”

Joel found himself blushing at the compliment, trying to wipe the redness away with his calloused palm to no avail.

You let out a quiet teetering laugh and looked back to make sure your dog was okay for a moment. “He get that dog after I left?”

Joel focused on you again and confirmed it once he noticed the dog again. “Yeah. I think your dad likes having something to take care of.”

You looked back into Joel’s eyes and bathed in them for a moment. He seemed more like himself, more certain of who he was. It made you a little sad to know how much time has passed, but maybe it was better this way.

“He was always like that. I think it started after… Well, you know.” You took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “How’s Sarah? She still my little rockstar?”

“She’s more of a pop star, now,” he said. “She still wears that bracelet you let her have, the… The silver one.”

Your chest swelled with joy and you couldn’t contain your excitement. “Really?! Aw, man, that’s so cool. I remember I would throw a fit if I didn’t have that damn thing on.” The dog barking grabbed your attention once again. He was just barking at the mailman but settled once the worker started petting him. “Sorry!” You shouted before returning your focus to Joel. “Well, Joel it was nice seeing you. We should… Catch up. I could use some… Life advice.”

“I’m free tomorrow night if that works?” He tried to contain his excitement.

You slowly backed away, giving him one more nod and smile. “Perfect. Just come over whenever like old times.”

Joel decided to be respectful enough to not ogle over your ass as you walked away. He turned away from the window wondering how the hell he was going to get over this… Crush?

Is that what this was? A crush?

He decided to not torture himself with his intrusive thoughts.

“Hey, kid,” Joel greeted. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but greeted him back. He entered the backyard slowly trying to get a feel for the mood. He sat next to you in the extra papasan chair and snatched your beer out of your hands. You glared at him, unable to hold it for long when he shot you that infamous smile. “Everything all right?”

He tasted your strawberry chapstick around the rim of the glass and let the taste linger on his tongue. His eyes fell to your lips as he thought about how the chapstick would taste coming straight from you. Raw and unfiltered.

You held your breath, wishing you had enough courage to ask your father these questions. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your father, you just wanted an opinion from an outside perspective. You were hoping Joel wasn’t as inclined to protect or embarrass you as much as your dad.

“There’s this guy I’ve been dating for a few months now… I…” You sigh frustratedly with the tension surrounding the question meanwhile Joel grew tense and jealous? He asked himself why that was the way he felt about you having a boyfriend.

You apprehensively said, “We had sex a few times before I left and it wasn’t…good.”

“Okay?” Joel asked as a way to tell you to keep going.

“How should I go about telling a guy that?”

He cleared his throat uncertain of how to answer your question. He didn’t want his newly discovered feelings to cloud his judgment as the chances of you two becoming a thing were slim to none. He wouldn’t want to sabotage you or your relationships. Especially when you trusted him enough to ask such a burdening question.

Joel accepted the awkwardness of the topic and put it aside. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed. “Well, have you tried suggesting things that he can do to make you—it feel good?” He asked.

“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s me,” you admitted.

“Does he do the things you ask him to?”

“Kinda?” Your cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed tightly.

He gave you a look that said come on now.

“He like… Does half of it?” You could just die of embarrassment right now.

“Wh—? How does he do half of it?”

You groaned obnoxiously and chugged some more beer. “I don’t know?! He does what I ask for like five minutes and then just does what he’s used to I guess.” He watched you poke your bottom lip out to pout as you stared into the glass bottle. “I really like him, Joel.”

“Does he like you?”

“Well, yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He inhaled sharply through his teeth and stole your beer bottle again. “All I will say is that a man that truly likes you would try harder, especially during sex, and especially if you’ve told him how he could make you feel good.”

“So… What do I do?”

“Do you think he likes you?” He asked again. “Think about it for a second. What does he do for you?”

“Well, he…” Your voice trailed off into silence as your mind went blank. Surely this guy did something for you to make you like him, right? But anything that did happen to come to mind was the bare minimum. You didn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction, so you said, “I think it could work.”

“Who’re trying to convince? Me or yourself?” He saw the frustration on your face and propped a finger below your chin to make you look at him. “If a guy really likes you, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have to ask more than once,” was all he said after he took a sip of your beer.

“What do you mean?”

Joel’s sigh almost sounded irritated. “I mean… A guy that truly likes you and deserves you won’t make you suffer through sex. A real man’ll take care a’you.”

“A real man, huh?” You bantered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Like you?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Do you like me?”

Why the fuck did I ask him that?! You thought as soon as the words left your mouth.

Joel didn’t couldn’t answer right away. His voice just stumbled over his tongue and out of his mouth.

“I think you’re a sweet girl,” he finally said, “and you’re smart enough to know who’s worthy of your time and attention. Doesn’t sound like it’s him.”

You couldn’t defeat the growing smirk on your face as he fought the urge to look over your body. He wasn’t so good at hiding it.

You turned your body in the chair slightly and dauntingly lifted your leg to touch your bare toes against his calf. You watched his breath get caught in his throat and your mouth fell open in awe at how easy it was to get him riled up.

He looked at the ground, not moving a single inch of his body. He was overwhelmed by your confidence.

The amount of attention Joel’s given you in the last ten minutes already seemed to surpass the attention your “boyfriend” (can you even call him that?) had given you.

Your foot trailed up Joel’s leg before you rested it upon his knee; Joel’s eyes screwed shut as if he were praying to not get caught like this, but your voice brought his gaze back to you.

“You didn’t answer my question, Joel,” you whispered seductively. Your foot left his leg and you got on your knees in the chair, then you leaned forward, hands around the rim of his own seat, and leaned in devilishly close to his face. “Do you like me?”

He swallowed hard, his fingertips turning white as they pressed into the bottle.

His lack of an answer caused an impatience to grow inside you. You leaned in even closer and strengthened your eye contact with him. Your fingers absentmindedly trailed over his knee to the midpoint of his clad thigh.

His spine shivered and his arms grew goosebumps. “Why don’t you have this attitude with your boyfriend?” He asked lowly in a poor attempt to further evade answering you.

You snickered and looked over his beer-covered lips, craving to taste them. “If I’m being honest he’s technically not my boyfriend… You’re tellin’ me things about men and how they should act. It’s making me feel like… He just can’t handle me.”

He smirked at you, fighting the way his body pleaded to touch yours. “If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the one for you.”

“Oh?” You got even closer, your nose touched his and you heard him choke on his breath. “Do you think you could handle me?”

He chuckled rashly and straightened his posture, now sensing you tense up. “I could,” he confidently confessed. “But this ain’t right, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you scoff, “you can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

“If you keep actin’ like a spoiled brat you won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you retorted, a cocky essence in your eyes.

“That so?”

“Maybe you can show me how a real man should be taking care of me.”

Joel had to stop himself from speaking as it would have potentially led to consequences. His flustered cheeks and wide lustful eyes created a hunger you’d never felt before.

However, you wanted Joel to earn it. Push him to the point of begging for just a taste of you. You needed to know if he craved you. Something you longed for from other men that just could not deliver.

You hovered your agape lips over his so dangerously it tickled his nerves. You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek then sat back in your original position.

Joel was both relieved and disappointed with the kiss. Relieved it didn’t end up with his head buried between your thighs, and at the same time disappointed that it didn’t.

For the next few days, you settled into your room as best as you could and got everything how you wanted it to be. Well, almost. You wanted a shelf to go over your closet so that you could display your most prized possessions.

When the idea sparked in your head you remembered that your dad said he was going to be gone for most of the day. You figured you could hold off for one more day. That was until you heard some power tools and heavy grunting from beyond your window.

Joel.

Joel had followed your lead as best as he could and you had to admit that the lack of physical contact was making it harder to resist him.

You felt a bit strange, however. After all, this is Joel. Sweet, caring, next-door neighbor Joel. You and your friends had a crush on him and his brother, Tommy, sure, but this wasn’t that. And you surely weren’t a child anymore. But still, you couldn’t help but think of how strange the dynamic is.

It wasn’t enough to stop you from taking your sweatpants off and changing out of your t-shirt into a stretchy tank top. You poked your head out of your window and shouted Joel’s name a few times until you successfully got his attention.

“Hey!” You said with a proud smile.

“Hey, kid!” He shouted back.

“Can you build a shelf for me? I wanted to get my room done today, but my old man’s gone!”

“Right now?” He tried to seem indifferent.

You just smiled harder and motioned for him to come over. “Please?!”

He huffed and looked at his half-done project, ultimately deciding to help you instead. The sooner he helps you the sooner he could create distance, he figured. Though deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You patter downstairs to unlock the door for him. He could see from the corners of his eyes that you were half naked, only in white panties and your top.

“Couldn’t a’put pants on?” He asked grumpily as he walked past you, not giving you the satisfaction of staring. You shut and lock the door before guiding him upstairs.

“Yeah, but I figured since you were doing the job for free I could at least give you something to look at,” you flirted. He didn’t even bother trying to stop you.

“What d’ya need done exactly?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I want those shelves to hang over my closet right… Here. I have a power drill here already, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it.”

He was doing a decent job at keeping his eyes anywhere but on your body, but in his mind he had already taken your clothes off and fucked you against the wall.

“S’alright, I can get it for ya,” he said while giving you an earnest look.

“What?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug and a smirk. You lightly smack his arm and plop down on your bed.

You lay on your stomach and flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally smelling some of the perfume samples. You snuck glances at Joel’s broad back as he made sure everything could be lined up, smiling to yourself at how efficiently he worked.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Joel randomly asked after about ten minutes. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he peaked over his shoulder.

You stifled your laugh and began looking at the magazine again before answering him. “He actually ended things with me two days ago. But like I said, he technically wasn’t my boyfriend. He never asked.”

“Oh… You doing okay? Seemed like you really liked him.”

“I like someone else more,” was all you said. Joel took a second, then just nodded even though you weren’t looking at him anymore.

“This someone have a name?” He asked after a few more moments of silence.

Joel’s internal conflict was teetering between giving in and giving up. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to you, but that’s what fueled his filthy thoughts even more.

“Yep, he sure does.”

Your tone was the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You felt hot and desperate, but you (almost) fooled him by sounding bored. He didn’t want to give into your childish game of beating around the bush, so he kept his mouth shut and began hammering a nail into the wall.

Suddenly you had an idea. An awfully sinister one.

You tossed the magazine on your nightstand and sat up in the bed, leaning into a few pillows and angling yourself so that Joel could get the perfect view if he dared to look.

Your hands traced uneven lines and patterns over your clad breasts and you gasped softly at your nipples perking up quickly. He couldn’t hear you over his hammering.

You rid yourself of your wet panties, kicking them to the edge of the bed. You spread your legs and began working big and slow circles over your sensitive clit. You used your free hand to pinch your nipple over your shirt, the combination of stimuli making you give a more audible moan.

Joel didn’t think much of it at first — he figured you were moving around on the bed to get more comfortable. So when the next moan came and he stopped his work to look at you he was taken aback, to say the least.

He said your name, but you shook your head in protest. “Is this okay?” You asked, innocence spreading across your face.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.

“Joel?” You snapped him out of his daze. “S’this okay?”

He nodded and watched your trembling hands dip down into your glistening slit, collecting your wetness and coating it over your clit. Your body was stiff with anticipation, watching him watch you.

He took in all of your beauty like the way your eyes fluttered halfway shut and how you bit your plump lip to quiet your mewls. One hand cupped your breast so gently and the other rubbing steady, taunting circles over your sensitive bud. He watched the way you pleased yourself and let this picture of you engrave itself into his memory.

One day, Joel thought, I’d be able to make her feel as good as she makes herself feel.

He ignored the hardening of his cock pressing against his jeans, not caring enough to touch himself if it meant he didn’t get to feel you. He found the situation quite sexy and the lack of physical contact made him feel good.

You were showing him that he didn’t need to touch you or talk to you. He didn’t need to do a damn thing. All he needed to do was stand there and let you look at him.

Your moans were quiet and soft, barely heard by him. You squeezed your nipple harshly and jolted at the shock of electricity it sent throughout your body, your eyes screwing shut and your legs curling up into an almost fetal position at the feeling.

He saw you swallow the lump in your throat as you looked into his eyes again, soon scanning over his body and imagining how he would feel on top of you. The imagination was more than enough to get you going.

You imagined he felt strong and heavy above you, trapping you with his burly arms and using his lean thighs to keep your legs open for him as he rolled his hips to meet yours.

You absentmindedly curled your middle and ring finger into your creamy pussy, chasing after the feeling of being stretched out by Joel. Your pussy effortlessly squelched as your discharge poured out of you like a waterfall, coating your plump ass cheeks in your juices.

You got a bit louder but remained mindful of the open windows just a few feet away. You watched the movement in his jeans from his cock that twitched, longing for just some fucking relief. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even adjust his pants. He wanted you to know that you were the one in charge and that he was willing to suffer just for you.

“Joel,” you breathed out in between helpless murmurs.

He almost caved at how sweetly you said his name like you were asking for help. You reached even further into your sex, pressing into your sweet spot carefully. You pretended it was him.

Allowing your eyes to shut and your mouth to open, your mind dove deeper into the fantasies of Joel. You imagined him fucking you slowly, steady enough to not make your bed squeak too loud. Your fingers followed your mind, bumping against your g-spot the same way you wanted him to: carefully, yet forceful.

Joel felt awkward just standing there watching you, but you looked so beautiful. Sprawled out just for him with your fingers dipping into your sopping cunt as if you were made just for him. He saw your shoulders twitch and a hiss escaped your lips.

A ripple of ecstasy shocked your nerves, your walls tighten around your fingers, and your clit tensed up with a tickling sensation.

Your face twisted from the overwhelming feeling that began to encapsulate you from your core to your mind. Your moans became shallow and louder. Your clit throbbing beneath your palm motivated your to work your fingers faster. You fucked yourself with more desire than you had before, still twisting your perky nipple between your other fingers.

You were a lot more gentle with yourself than Joel would have expected. You took your time, didn’t overwhelm yourself.

He knew he loved it when the ever-growing pressure inside of you burst into a million flames throughout your trembling body. He saw that the slower you were with yourself the more intense the orgasm was.

He accidentally groaned at the sight of you: clinging to your bedsheet with the very hand that toyed with your breast, eyes refusing to open from the immense pleasure soaring through your veins, curling up into a ball because your body couldn’t comprehend just how good you were feeling.

He noticed how your cum gushed around and below your fingers creating a wet spot on your blanket. He carefully watched as you opened your eyes, still slowly fingering yourself. You continued to feel your orgasm, exploring how much of it you could endure.

You moved your free hand to your clit and rubbed tiny and fast circles around it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you refused to moan anything but his name.

You shoved your fingers deep inside of you to press against your g-spot relentlessly. Your toes curled at the mix of pleasure.

You knew your orgasm was coming back more powerful than before already, and you braced yourself when your walls flexed against your fingers basically forcing them out; you chewed hard on your lip and laid your stiff fingers flat against your clit to rub from side to side at the arrival of your squirt. You squealed behind your swollen lip and let your squirt splash everywhere.

Joel palmed his rock-hard cock for some relief as he watched in awe at how you came for him. You looked so fucking delicious soaking yourself in your juices. His heart punched against his chest and his mind nearly blank, only filled with you.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you eased up on your clit. You let out sweet hums of bliss and you opened your eyes again, carefully analyzing his body language.

He practically reeked of inferiority. He was your marionette, your toy, whatever you wanted him to be. He didn’t recognize you in the best way possible. You were an unwrapped present that he couldn’t wait to open and play with. Your confidence grew at his puppy eyes that were low and dark, filled with a need to serve you.

Your fingers collected some of the creamy nectar between your folds before you brought it to your mouth and darted your wet tongue out to taste it.

You never broke eye contact once, observing how his body shuddered at the filthy action. His breath was heavy, his chest heaved in anticipation. You stuck your fingers inside of your mouth moaning at the salty goodness coating every single taste bud.

It wasn’t until your fingers dropped back down to your side and you gave him a shit-eating grin that he finally looked away, sighing loudly.

He felt ashamed of himself.

He’d known you since you were a child.

How could he ever look you in the eye again?

How could he ever look your father in the eye again?

You slipped your panties on again while he wasn’t looking and just grabbed your magazine, flipping through the pages again like nothing ever happened though the wet spot on your bed clearly said otherwise.

When Joel saw you had returned to your previous activities he did the same. Drilling and hammering your shelves onto the wall like nothing fucking happened.

“Here you go sir, you have a lovely day,” you chirped at the customer as you handed him his food waiting until he left. You turned around to straighten up the counter behind you when the bell on the door jingled. “Hello, give me just one moment and I’ll be with you!”

You gave the counter a lazy wipe with the wet washcloth before tossing it into the sink nearby and turning around, being met with a smirking Joel.

“My, my, you working at a burger joint? Never thought I’d see the day,” he teased.

You made a face and told him to shut up. You tried not to notice the sheer layer of sweat that coated his partially exposed chest. “What can I get you, sir?”

His face contorted with arrogance and he placed a hand over his chest. “Sir? You callin’ me sir now? Oh, you are just too cute.”

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed out a stream of air, waiting for him to stop fucking with you.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, dropping the act. “Can I get a burger and some fries?”

“You don’t want a drink?” You asked before writing his order down quickly and sliding it through the kitchen window.

“Are you tryin’a make me tip you more?”

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s just that the cola here is really good.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as if he didn’t believe you.

“If you want a cola I’ll make it extra cold for you,” you whispered as if you were telling him a dirty secret.

“Mhm, okay. Fine, I’ll take your word for it. Gon’ and get it f’me then.”

“You can ask that a little nicer,” you scoffed. You walked off, breathing in a gust of smoke on your way to the soda machine. “F’here or to-go?!” You shouted.

“Mm, I was gonna get it to go, but I think I’ll stay and keep you company.”

You could just hear the smile in his voice.

“Awe, how thoughtful of you,” you bantered before rinsing out a clean cup and filling it with ice. The cook called out the order was ready and you thanked him before finishing up with Joel’s drink. You grabbed the tray and walked over to the end of the counter where the stools sat, setting the food in front of Joel with a weak smile.

He watched you closely as you leaned onto your elbows waiting for him to try his food.

“What r’ya doing workin’ in a restaurant? Didn’t you graduate for like… Fashion or some shit?” Joel asked, unable to keep his smile down at how pretty you looked in your uniform: a teal skirt and a mustard yellow shirt, but so, so tacky. You hated the fucking outfit, it was everything you would never wear, but Joel thought you made it look good.

“I did,” you confirmed, “but I wanted a humbling job before I truly entered the world of fashion.”

Joel’s thick and somewhat dirty fingers unraveled his greasy burger after he dumped the fries out chaotically. He took an unnecessarily big bite, not seeing how your eyes watched the trail of juice trickle down the corner of his mouth to his chin before he swept it set with his thumb.

“Humbling, hmm?” He questioned before swallowing his barely chewed bite. “You’re a wise girl, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smugly replied. You stole a fry off of his tray and smiled at his frowning face while eating it before washing it down with his fizzling soda. “Best drink that ‘fore it goes flat.”

You walked away momentarily to help a customer that just walked in; she only wanted a dollar milkshake so you told her not to worry about paying. You took a dollar and some change from your tip pocket and put it in the register before grabbing a styrofoam cup and packing her cup.

Joel noticed halfway through you making the shake that whenever you tapped the bottom of the cup against the counter your breast jiggled against your arm. He felt the lady nearby staring at him so he turned his head just enough to see the mix of disgust and concern on her face.

If only she knew how filthy you were for him just last week…

He didn’t care enough to stop though, he just went back to looking at how your clothes hugged your body.

You finished up her shake and popped a lid on it before grabbing a straw and walking back to give it to her.

Joel heard the lady ask if you were okay, and he promptly rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and tried his best to not laugh. You were confused by her question, simply nodding your head and saying, “Yeah?”

She looked at Joel once more, choosing not to say another word before leaving.

“Fuck was that about?” You asked, watching her walk away.

“She saw me starin’ at your tits,” he said between obnoxious bites. “If only she saw—“

Your eyes widened. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“Whatever you say, doll,” he teased before taking another bite.

You pretended to be grossed out by seeing the chewed-up food in his mouth as he spoke, swatting his hand gently. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me,” he quipped with a simper. He took a sip of his drink, humming at how refreshing it felt. “This is good,” he told you.

“Told ya.”

“What time are you out?”

You looked at the door when your manager came in, apologizing for taking longer than she expected.

“You’re fine, it’s a slow day,” you told her as she walked to her office. You looked at Joel and slammed your book and pen on the counter near the register. “I’m out now. Why?”

“Your dad asked me to pick you up.”

You felt a rush of worry. “Why? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, honey, everything’s fine. He forgot about pickin’ you up today and got drunk with his buddies and called me—well, he called Tommy. Said he wouldn’t be back home ‘til tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of his brother’s name. “Oh? Well, why isn’t Tommy here?” You strutted around the counter and stood next to Joel as he inhaled the last of his food.

“Think you know why,” he grunted.

Anxiety pang inside of your chest, but you convinced yourself it was excitement. You were hoping that he wanted to get you alone somewhere and fuck you into the next week.

But you didn’t want to seem desperate. You kept a straight face, waiting for your boss to come back out before getting your things and punching out.

You followed Joel to his Chevy and thanked him when he opened the door for you. He huffed when by the time he got inside the car himself you were already flipping through his book of CDs.

“I got a good one in already—“

“Is it The Writing’s On the Wall by Destiny’s Child?” You interrupted after you found said CD.

“No, b—“

“Then it’s not what I want to listen to.”

Joel endured your (arguably bad) singing for the ten-minute ride back to your house. He thought about a few things in that ten minutes:

-Sarah wasn’t home, so he didn’t need to worry about food (or getting caught), so this time was optimal to make a move on you.

-If he were to make a move on you, then you two wouldn’t get caught.

-If he were to make a move on you, how exactly would he do it?

Once he arrived in his driveway, you both stepped out of the car and he walked over to your side.

“You not working tonight?” You asked.

“No, we finished early.”

You looked at him with lush eyes and bit the inside of your mouth, a flirty smile coaxing your lips. He looked hopeful for something, anything.

“I was just gonna watch TV all night,” you started, “and maybe make some dinner. I know you just ate, but you and Sarah are welcome to come over.”

“Sarah’s at a friend’s tonight, doing some studying,” he answered. His voice trailed off as if he weren’t finished speaking his thought aloud, but you picked up where he reluctantly left off.

“Do you want to come over, then? Just you?”

He looked around the quiet neighborhood as if he had to think about what he wanted. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You lead him to your house, kicking your shoes off at the door and he followed. He felt unsure of his decision. He wondered if this night would play out platonically and just be filled with conversation and dinner, or if this was truly the beginning of a secret he’d have to keep forever.

“Spaghetti okay?” You asked him once you both entered the kitchen, decorated with oranges and reds, and yellows, reminiscent of your late mother. You tossed your half apron on the island before making your way to the refrigerator.

You heard his feet patter on the linoleum quickly but before you could turn around on your own Joel did it, pinning your back against the refrigerator and knocking down some of the bottles inside of it.

You gasped when his fingers peacock over the outsides of your thighs, gripping at the hem as a means to pace himself.

His eyes were bright yet lustful as his proximity alone sucked the air out of your lungs. Your chests heaving against each other’s created the only other physical contact you had with him.

He then dropped to his knees before you got the chance to speak; his calloused hands rose beneath your skirt, hiking it up enough for him to pull your wet panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them for him and he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder before meeting his mouth to your clit tongue first.

You moaned at how he just dove into it, not bothering with kissing or easing you into it. Your digits laced through his messy curls while his tongue coated itself in your juices.

His tongue did crazy laps around your clit and he smacked a couple of firm kisses in between his licks. You tried to watch his work but your stupid fucking skirt was in the way. You settled, however when his eyes opened, the only visible part of him from your view.

You tasted so good to him, he tasted your day of work mixed in with your salty precum and he couldn’t get enough of it. He moaned when you tugged at his hair, burying his face as deep as he could and closing his eyes.

You let out a stream of obscenities while using your calf to push into his back, afraid that if you didn’t hold on tight enough he’d vanish.

He wrote out his full name over your clit like he was casting a spell that anything you or someone else touched you there you would only think about him.

You were amazed at how good he was eating you out — you didn’t think he’d be bad. You just didn’t know it could feel this good. It was like you felt him touching and kissing and licking all over your body, swimming in an endless pool of dissolution.

His touch was decadent through remembering how careful you were with yourself. He wanted to cater to you and to make you feel as good as you made yourself. And on top of that, he just really wanted to eat your pussy.

Savor it.

Taste it.

Drink you until you fucking ran dry and begged him to stop.

Nothing could have torn his lips away from your pussy. Hell, someone could have walked in and he’d still keep going.

“Joel,” you gasped, throwing your head back and grinding on his face.

He loudly moaned, tightening his grip around your thighs and wagging his head furiously from side to side to provide more stimulation.

Your hips bucked into his face roughly and you screeched, pulling even tighter on his hair.

“Joel, oh—fu-fuck!”

He smirked and pulled at the skirt to unveil his eyes again. His dick angered in his jeans, but he ignored it. He’d much rather focus on the way you writhed from his touch. Your panting growing heavier fueled his already intense movements. He began to suck while still shaking his head earning another screech from you.

You never felt out of control with how loud you were before. Every motion sent a million shockwaves throughout your body. You always did a good job at keeping quiet enough so that the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but fucking hell was Joel the one to break that evergreen streak.

You felt his hot breath collide with the fluids coating your sex and his nails leave indents on your flesh.

His tongue darted out to collect a stream of your cum, but his nose butted against your clit as he continued shaking his head making your hips buck once more. Then he realized… He got to stimulate your sensitive bud and lick between your folds.

He loved it.

Your moans became more distressed and uneven; he felt you chasing that high. He wanted you to cum so fucking badly. To let all of your pent-up cum pour over him.

You held the back of his head gently and he angled it just right enough for you to ride his face.

“Use my fucking face,” he moaned loud enough between your legs for you to hear. “Use my fucking face to cum.”

Your body gave in finally at his hoarse voice; your hops sped up, still using his nose and lips to overstimulate yourself. The orgasm was forceful, your moans strident.

Joel felt a pool of your cum leak out and drip down his chin onto his neck. He watched you crumble and curl into him and he was attentive enough to hold you steady while your balance dissipated.

Your head was dizzy and your vision blurred. You slowly halted your movements and just stood there being held by him while he placed light, but loving kisses along your dripping cunt.

He finally pulled his face out from underneath your skirt and carefully put your leg down before standing. He tucked some loose hairs back or behind your ears, then caressed your cheek and gave you a peck.

You wiped some of your cum off of his wet chin with your thumb and held it up to his mouth which he gladly sucked on. He grinned at you afterward and fixed your skirt for you.

The silence was soothing because frankly, neither of you knew what to say. It left you speechless, but that could just be the aftereffect of your climax.

The night was beginning to close in sooner than either of you wanted it to. You two just talked, truly catching up on the past four years. He was a lot funnier than you remembered, your cheeks were aching from how much he was making you laugh.

"You are a real gentleman, Joel Miller. What can I say? Dinner and an orgasm?!"

He lifted you up from your spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap so that you were straddling him. "I don't have to be," he murmured against your lips. His fingers flexed into your feverish skin, holding you upright and close by. He chased you with his lips until you finally let him kiss you. "Be honest with me... Did you really think I was handsome in high school?"

Your face grew warm and you hid behind your hands in embarrassment. "Oh, my God."

"Why are you actin' all shy now?"

"Because you weren’t supposed to know about that."

"Know about what exactly?"

You crossed your arms, deciding to let him win this time. "You want details?"

He smirked and leaned back to get more comfortable.

"Well... I used to lie and tell my friends that we fucked," you admitted.

"Really?" Despite his surprise the smirk never left his face. If anything it grew wider.

You sheepishly nodded. "I used to tell them how good you were. Everything you would do to me."

"What would I do to you?" His cock was already throbbing against his jeans, and just like every other time, he ignored it.

"You would fuck me up against the wall," you explained. "Sometimes, you would bend me over the edge of the bed and spank me for being naughty. Or just 'cause you felt like it. I'd even tell them about how you played with my ass so gently because you didn't want to hurt me."

Every word went straight to his dick, making it jerk and prod your thigh.

"Maybe I do need to bend you over and spank you for all that lyin' you were doin'. Your friends probably think I'm some creep now," he said; his tone wasn’t scolding or cold. He sounded thirsty for more of you. Like his throat had already run dry despite how much of you he drank earlier.

"I'd tell them the truth, but if I were to do that now then I'd be lying again," you whispered against his lips.

"We certainly cannot have you spreadin' no more dirty lies, now. Can we?"

Read Part 2 here.

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut #joel miller blurb #the last of us hbo #the last of us

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waves-against-a-cliff · 11 days

Text

Where Soul Meets Body - Ghost x Reader

Ao3 Link

Content Warnings - afab!reader, no pronouns used, reader has a call sign, canon typical violence, ghost's past :(, angst, smut, fingering, oral, thigh riding, PiV, unprotected sex, happy ending. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary - Simon Riley has been your best friend since the two of you were five. You've been in love with him since you were 15. It's too bad life has other plans

WC: 18k

Big thanks to @shotmrmiller for helping me with the last chapter and big thanks to @itsagrimm for listening to my rambling about this since January. I'm so happy to see it written and finished.

Rainy days in the United Kingdom we're far from abnormal. Seeing the bright sun with no clouds obstruction was abnormal. Seeing someone without an umbrella, even a jacket, in the rain was more than abnormal to you. Who in the world would set out to school without a jacket or umbrella? You approach the strawberry blond boy and tentatively hold your umbrella over his head. "What are you doing without an umbrella?" You ask, head tilting ever so slightly at the boy looking up at you. Oh, he's from your class, what was his name again?

"I don't have one."

"Did your mum not buy you one?" There was a small silence but you smile, "Well it doesn't matter now, I'm here and we can share." You give him your name and get the smallest smile from him.

"I'm Simon Riley." Ah, that's right, Simon Riley.

"Well then Simon, let's get to school." The umbrella was hardly large enough for you to fit under but you held it over his head as the rain came down. It rained all day but that was okay because you and Simon sat together all day. "I'll walk home with you so you don't get wet." You say while playing another round of Sorry!.

"You don't need to." Simon mutters as he moves his piece, his brown eyes downcast. You frown, brows pinching together as you try to piece together the logic behind that statement.

"I don't need to but I want to." You respond with a toothy grin. "It's what friends do." You say with confidence as you draw a card.

"We're friends?" Simon asks, his eyes suddenly meeting yours.

"Of course. We're sharing an umbrella." You laugh and move your piece according to the card. "And when you get your own umbrella, we can be umbrella friends." He repeats the term umbrella friends as if testing the waters and then smiles. A smile suits him much better than a frown you decide. During lunch, you offer part of your sandwich when you realize how sad his packed lunch is. "Here, I'm full." A lie but he hardly had half of what your mum packed. He looked at the triangularly cut sandwich with apprehension. "Please eat it." He continues to stare at it before picking it up and taking a bite then looking at you. When he sees your smile, he keeps eating it. "You have very brown eyes." You suddenly comment, unable to keep it to yourself. "I like them."

Simon easily fit into the routine of your life, each day after school he would walk home with you on Fridays. Together the two of you would chatter about anything and everything, conversation flowing easily. Somedays were worse than others, like right now while you treated Simon's busted lip with a bag of cold peas pressing against his cheek. "I'll beat him up." You promise. He seems different these days, he had always been a bit timid before but any loud noise scared him. You don't ask what happened, you could see it in his eyes that he didn't want to talk about it. Those same eyes were always looking down all the time now too, you wish he wouldn't. You like to see his eyes.

"You can't beat up Tommy." He insists.

"He beat you up, I'm just returning the favor." You huff as you dab the blood away from his lip and hand him a bag of cold broccoli. The attic of your home had become a safe haven to him and the walls and ceiling were decorated in drawings that the two of you had created over the last two years. A plate of triangle sandwiches sat half eaten on the box-made-table. "I'll just punch him. Serve him right." You huff and cross your arms after throwing the wet rag in the corner. Books and half put away board games were scattered all around the little attic.

"Please don't." Simon begs, his brown eyes downcast again.

"Will it make you happy if I don't?" You ask, twisting your shirt and pulling at the loose thread. Simon nods and you sigh, pushing your hair from your face. "Fine then but you're staying the night." You declare.

"Don't you need to ask your mum and dad permission?" He asks.

"They'll say yes. They always do." It was true, there hadn't been a time your mum hadn't let Simon sleep over if you had asked. Simon tapped your arm and handed you a book from the pile.

"Out of your head, let's read." He says while giving a frail smile. When did his smiles get smaller? You take the book from his hand, you hope it'll make him happy. A knock on the attic door as your mum peaks her head up.

"Are you staying for dinner Simon?" You mum asks and you jump on the opportunity.

"Can Simon stay the night mum? Please." You draw out your please and put on your best puppy eyes. Your mum looks between you and Simon who still held the bag of broccoli against his mouth.

"Of course he can stay. Just be quiet after eight pm." Your mum disappears back down the ladder towards the kitchen while you turn to Simon with a victorious smile on your face.

"Told you so."

You knock rapidly on his home's front door, "Come on Riley! I'm not gonna stand out here all day waiting for you." You would, of course you would. Rain or shine, warm or hot. The door swung open and you scrunched up your nose when Tommy was standing in front of you. "You smell like a sewer rat." You remark, "Where's Simon?"

"Don't you ever shut up?" Tommy snapped, "Simon isn't your boyfriend."

"He doesn't need to be my boyfriend in order for me to ask where he is." You immediately respond. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Tommy, Simon's younger brother, had been teasing the two of you for years since the first time he saw you walk Simon home. "Simon!" You say, a smile immediately appearing on your face as he finally appears behind his brother. "Come on!" You push Tommy out of the way and grab Simon's hand. "I got my drivers license." You boast, "Dad's letting me drive his truck around whenever he doesn't need it."

It was a rare day in spring when it wasn't raining and you weren't gonna let it go to waste. The windows of the truck were rolled down and the wind blew through your hair. The city of Manchester slowly disappears, the loudness exchanged for the quiet of the countryside.

"Don't look so grumpy Simon." You say when you notice he had his head in his hand and a scowl on his face. "You're acting like I'm driving you to your death."

"With how you drive, I'm sure you are." He retorts, a small smile growing on his face as you bark out a laugh.

"Well we're almost there so your death won't be quiet so soon." You remark. You slow the truck down before pulling off into a dirt road and coming to a complete stop. You turn the truck off and tuck the keys into your pocket and grab the basket you brought from the back of the truck. You look at the fence blocking the way into the flower field before you toss the basket over the fence before you launching yourself over the fence. "Come on Simon, just jump it!"

"Isn't this illegal?"

"Only if you get caught." You laugh and wink before helping Simon over the fence. The field of flowers stretch far and bumblebees buzz around from flower to flower. You open the basket and lay out the thin blanket onto the ground. Lowering yourself onto the blanket and you motion for Simon to join you.

"What's all this then?" He asked with a brow raised as you began to pull out a few cans of coke, a couple of sandwiches and apples.

"Happy 15th birthday." You say with a grin, "I got your present back at my house but I figured you'd like it out here." Simon stares at you, brown eyes wide as he looks between you and all the food you somehow managed to pack into the basket. You shift a little his heavy gaze as anxiety crept up as your cheeks turned red. "Do you not like it?" You ask.

Simon looked at you before a lopsided grin grew on his face, "It's great. Thank you."

"What are you planning to do after school is over?" You ask after taking a sip from your coke. "I mean, we only have next year left. Are you going to attend University?"

"I'm gonna take a butcher's apprenticeship."

"What?"

"My grades aren't doing great and I figured why not." Simon shrugged, "Not like it's a bad idea." You punched his shoulder lightly and glared at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling Riley? You know I would have helped." The wind blows softly, the flowers and grass rustle, birds sing in the distance. "You're a smart man Simon, if this is what you want to do," You take a steadying breath, "then I'll support you."

Simon smiles at you, "You took it better then my mum did at least." He sighs and takes a bite from his apple.

"She just wants what's best for you." You say, softening your voice. If there was one thing you learned about Simon Riley after these five years, it's that he loves his mum more than anything. You lean against him, coke can still in hand as the silence blankets the space between you and him. After a few minutes of silently eating and drinking, he nudges you.

"Look." He whispers and points to a flower by his side. You lean over and a massive smile grows on your face as you spot a very tired bumblebee resting within a flower. You look at Simon and feel something within yourself turn on or maybe become louder as you see his soft gaze at the sleeping bee. Suddenly, you wanted him to look at you with that same soft expression.

"You know Daisy?" Simon asks one day while you were driving to the flower field. It had become a place to get away from school and home, away from all the stresses of life for at least a few hours. Daisy was a classmate in the same year, you had never been close with her but you had grown up with her the same as you had with Simon.

"Of course, Daisy Lockmon right?"

"Yeah." There's something in the way he says it that makes your heart clench. It's the softness of it, the fondness and the soft sigh, even the sort of dreamy look in his eyes you spot in the mirror as he gazes out into the countryside.

"Yeah?"

"I'm dating her. She asked me out a few days ago." Few days ago. Why did that sting so fucking much? You smile at him as you grip on the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white and your fingers go numb. It doesn't compare to the squeezing grip of whatever is holding your heart. No, you know who holds your heart and he doesn't even know it. It's my fault, I never told him. You try to reason with yourself but it doesn't stop the hurt.

"Congratulations then. Daisy is a sweet girl."

A few months later, you feel like you're going to throw up. You fight back any words threatening to come out of your mouth besides something good and kind because he doesn't deserve your anger or sadness. Simon doesn't know, you keep reminding yourself, you're just his best friend that he's confiding in. Just the person he's grown up with since ten years old, just the person who treated his busted lips, cuts and bruises. Just his best friend. Not the girl, not Daisy Lockmon who he thinks he loves. He probably does love her, you've never seen him look at someone the way he does Daisy.

You lay in the field, something that allows your stress to melt away, does nothing for you. Not as Simon lays next to you, not as you think about the times before all of this you could have said something. Simon says nothing, you say nothing and the two of you just watch the clouds float by. Simon sits up as he speaks, "I'm ready to leave, how about you?" Your heart clenches again, time in the field has been getting shorter and trips less frequent. You know it's not just because of his relationship and it's just how life is sometimes. He has his butcher's apprenticeship and you're studying for university classes but logic doesn't dictate emotion.

"In a moment, I'll catch up with you at the truck." You say, pasting on a smile. Simon shrugs and grunts as he gets up. You wait until you're sure he's already hopped the fence and heading towards the truck before you move over to his spot. Where the grass and flowers are flattened down into his shape, slowly you curl into the spot. For a moment, you imagined that you were the one he says he loves. For just a bittersweet moment, you pretend that you're his and he's yours.

"I'm joining the military." Your ceramic mug shatters on the floor. Just like that, everything comes crashing down. The world was still reeling from the twin towers attack in the United States, the sense of safety shattered in a terrorist attack.

"What?" That was the only word that could come from your mouth. You look at Simon with wide eyes, the cozy atmosphere of your flat turned cold. "You're joking. Right Simon?"

"I'm not."

"What about your apprenticeship Simon? You've been working as a butcher since you were 16. You're nearly done." The words come flying out of your mouth, "Simon-"

"I'm not asking you to understand my decision. I'm just telling you that I'm doing it and you can't stop me." You laugh bitterly and the sound is so foreign to both your ears and Simons.

"As if I could stop you Simon." You mutter, moving to grab a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered mug on the floor. "But why? You've never once shown interest in joining the military." The answer is clear, its reason why many people were joining the military and you already know his answer before he opens his mouth.

"The attack in the US." Of course, he doesn't elaborate. "I'm being sent to bootcamp in two weeks."

"Two weeks? That's hardly any time at all." You sigh and sink down into your couch, putting your face in your hands as you try to process everything. "What about Daisy?"

"Broke up with her." He says so plainly and with a shrug of his shoulders. You have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something back handed. You're not petty, you're not petty, you're not petty, is the thought running through your head but you can't deny how good it feels to know he isn't dating her anymore. Not like you have much of a chance now since he's going off to bootcamp. "She said she didn't want to date a guy in the military. It's a deal breaker apparently." It's not for me you think quickly.

The day comes too quickly, for once you wished life would slow down and let you soak up Simon's presence in your life. It's not like he's dying, he's just going off to bootcamp and then he'll be back is what you think to keep yourself from falling apart. Nearly nine years of friendship, spending hardly any time or going a long distance away from one another, now Simon will be gone for 14 weeks. Then he'll be stationed somewhere for two to six years. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him hard and burying your face into his jacket. "You be safe Simon Riley or I'll raise you from the dead."

He chuckles and pats your head, "Its bootcamp not an active war zone." You just shake your head and he wraps his arms around you. "But I'll be safe. I'll write to you every chance I get, I promise."

"Good."

"Simon?"

The last three years had passed quickly with the letters from Simon being the only rest stop between university studies and work. Grabbing your coat from the back, you sigh as you finally shut off the lights to the cafe you work at part time. With a small click, your work day was finally, finally over. You twist the lock on the cafe front door, struggling momentarily from your thick gloves. You turn to start walking towards your rather cheap flat and scream when you see a massive figure barely a foot away. The familiar voice hissing your name made the panic subside as quickly as it appeared.

"Glad to know you still have those pipes of yours." You look at Simon, he is barely illuminated by the street lights but you can still tell he's different now. He's no longer the slightly slender boy you knew three years ago. He wasn't slouching and made direct eye contact with you. You take him all in before you rush to him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his coat and drinking in his scent.

"Simon Riley," You whisper into his coat before pulling back to look up at him, "you've really grown. Come on, I'll let you crash at my place." He opens his mouth to argue but you're already pulling him along. You lead him to your flat, which isn't far away from your place of work thankfully. You kick off your shoes at the door and tell Simon to do the same. Placing a kettle on the stove to boil some water you then sit down and look at Simon. "So, what's brought you back here?" You ask.

Simon looks at you, drinking in your appearance. You look tired, worn down and ready to collapse. "I'm gonna fix my family." He finally answers after you cock your head to the side.

"You're... gonna fix your family?" You ask, leaning back as the words wash over you. Your heart hurt slightly for a reason you didn't want to understand, for a reason you didn't want to voice out loud or in your own head.

"Yes. And I'm not leaving until it is."

You purse your lips and get up to pour the boiling water into two cups. You put an earl gray tea bag with a splash of milk into the mug for Simon and a few cubes of sugar for your own cup of tea. You hand him the tea and sit back down as you continue to run through the implications of his choice. "Alright." You finally say. "You can crash at my place while you fix your family."

"You don't believe me." Simon states and you snap your head to look at him completely. "I know it sounds crazy but I'm stronger now. I can finally do what I've always wanted." He says between sips of his tea. "And I won't leave until it is fixed."

You sigh and set your cup down, "Fine." You get up and grab a piece of paper and a pen. You scribble down the addresses of Tommy's friends that he keeps couch surfing between before handing it to Simon. "This is what I know about Tommy. You'll probably get a confirmed address from your mom."

"And my dad?"

"Still an arsehole who comes and goes as he pleases." You grumble.

You walk out of your bedroom as quietly as possible. You peak over your couch and feel a weight lift off your chest. He was still here, right here in your flat. Your best friend, your rock and crush. Simon was finally back, not for the reason you might have fantasized about more than often you were willing to admit, but he was back. Love is such a funny thing, you think to yourself as you lay in bed. It had been three years since you had last seen him, hugging and barely holding back tears as he hopped on a bus to bootcamp. You hadn't cried that hard ever as you had cried on that day when he left. You turn onto your side and wipe away a few tears that leak from your eyes, at least he was here now.

You stand outside his family's home. You look down the street and recall the exact path that you could take to see your family. You had turned down Simon's offer to come inside, you didn't want to intrude on his reunion with his mother. You tap your foot as you lean against your truck, the same one you had driven to the fields outside of Manchester all those years ago. Simon steps outside of the house and hugs his mother one last time, his mouth moves but you don't hear what he has to say. His mother looks around him and looks at you. She's been crying you realize. You exchange a smile and a wave before she goes back inside of the house.

"Got the address?" You ask Simon as you both get into your truck.

"Got it." He confirms and gives you the address. You can't stop yourself from grimacing, of course it had to be that arsehole’s address. You hadn't left Simon in the dark of what was going on with his family while he was deployed and away. You didn't bother to spare details, okay, well maybe a few. Mostly about your own interactions with Tommy and his friends. But Simon didn't need to hear that, he had already sworn to come back and fix his family at least a dozen times since the third month. He didn't need to stress himself over you.

The car ride was quiet, the radio was off and the only sound was the wind blowing in through the open windows. You can feel the rage rolling off him but also the concern for his brother. The truck comes to stop outside of a dingy and unwelcoming flat building, you look at Simon and take him in. His brown eyes fill with determination and rage the longer he looks at the building. Finally, he opens the door, "I'm gonna get Tommy." He says before turning to go into the building after shutting the door. You let out a shaky sigh and let go of the steering wheel, looking at your shaking hands you try not to think too hard about what Tommy and his friends had done. What kind of people they were.

Tommy, your best friend's young brother had let his so-called friends push you around at your job until they were banned by your manager. Then they slashed your tires. Tommy hadn't changed, just become a carbon copy of dirt-bag father. Simon was made from something different, he was his mother's son, the undying love of his family and the ability to go with the flow of life. To never give up. You tense up as the people who lived in the flat walk past you, your breathing becoming more shallow as you watch them enter the flat. Oh god. Oh god. You panic and go to unbuckle yourself but struggle as your trembling hands only become worse.

You could hear the fighting coming from inside the house as you finally unbuckle yourself. There were five of them and only one of him. Oh god. Oh god. You push the truck door open and nearly tumble out, rushing to Simon's aid. You didn't expect to see him handling himself well against five other people while Tommy crouches low to avoid the fight altogether. One of the men goes to try and put Simon in a headlock, you do the only thing you can think of. You grab the man's jacket and pull him into your punch.

Simon places Tommy in the back seat, telling him he's going to bring him to the clinic and get him clean. You rub your throbbing knuckles, the pain from that one punch still echoing in your body. Simon gently takes your hand and inspects your knuckles, clicking his tongue. "You were never much of a fighter." He comments and looks up into your eyes. "But that was a good punch."

You're standing outside the clinic, the cold early spring wind making you pull your jacket closer to your body. Today was the day Tommy was going to be released, you weren't going to turn down Simon's request for you to be there. You had been spending more and more time with Simon and his mother. She is such a sweet lady, and loves her sons more than anything in the entire world. Simon looks at you and smiles, "I told you I would fix my family."

You roll your eyes, "I'll believe Tommy is clean when I see it." You grumble.

"I know he wasn't a good man back then,"

"He was a fucking mess Simon." You say, "He and his druggie friends cornered me once, demanded whatever money I had on me." You finally spill your guts, "I don't like him. You've been defending Tommy and his stupidity every day since I've known you." You look him right in the eyes, "He doesn't deserve your love or your mothers. As far as I'm concerned, he's been on my shit list since the first time I had to clean your bloody lip."

Simon looks at you for a long moment, your words hanging in the air until he pulls you into a hug. "I'm sorry." He mutters and hides his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze and he hugs you tighter, "I'm so sorry. You should have told me about that. I would have never-"

"Don't be sorry." You whisper quickly, "Never be sorry. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. Simon you're too kind, too forgiving."

"That's not true."

"I think it is."

Someone coughs and Simon lets go of you, his face breaking into a smile as Tommy stands in front of the two of you. He looks different, better. Healthy and alive. "Can we go home now?" He asks. You watch as Simon walks up to Tommy and wraps him in his arms.

"Of course."

You watch from the driver's seat as their mum opens the door and jump into Tommy's arms as Tommy hugs her tight. You can't help the smile that grows on your face when Simon joins the hug. Their mum looks at you and motions you to join them. You shake your head but Simon walks over and pretty much drags you from the car and into the group hug.

Later that night, their mum pulls you to the side. "Thank you." She says and takes your hand into hers, "for being there for my Simon."

"It really was nothing." You assure her and she shakes her head.

"You love him very much. Don't try to deny it, you've stuck by his side all these years and I've seen the way you look at him." She winks, "I just hope the two of you get together before I'm dead."

You can't help the quiet laugh that comes from your throat, "Me too." You whisper and look over at Simon who sits next to Tommy as they watch a football match after eating dinner.

You can hardly believe that you're sitting here at Tommy's wedding next to their mum as you comfort her. Simon stands as Tommy's best man as they trade vows. Beth looks beautiful as she always has. Long black hair and charming blue eyes, she was beyond kind as well. Perfect for Tommy who hadn't lost some of his snark but Beth softened him. You look at Simon and smile when you notice he's holding back tears as they exchange vows.

The wedding's reception wasn't filled to the brim with people but it was lively, friends and distant family members mingled as you sit at a table with a glass of champagne. Simon lets out a sigh as he sits next to you at the edge of the party. "Are you having fun?" You tease and Simon rolls his eyes. Joseph, Simon's nephew who you are sure will never know a day of fear or hurt like his uncle and father, is exchanged between party members and snuck small bites of cake.

"I'd let to get away from all of this for a moment." He admits as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. You remember when he was the sad strawberry blond boy that rainy school day. The way he avoided eye contact and others. You smile and take his hand.

"Then lets go."

You can faintly hear the music from the reception but other wise, this bench away from the party was the perfect place. The night sky is some what visible, with only the brightest stars being visible from all the light pollution of the city. A small breeze blows through your hair and you close your eyes to just soak in the moment. You open your eyes and Simon looks at you, softness in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're stunning." He says and you furrow your brows, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and neck. He leans in closer and cups your cheek, "Can I kiss you?" The words don't come to you but you nod frantically, feeling worried that he might change his mind for some reason. His eyes look between your eyes and lips before he leans in. The kiss is slow and he holds you like you might break or in case you want to leave. His lips are slightly chapped but soft and you vaguely wonder if he put on flavored chapstick earlier. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer and he takes the hint. The kiss turns from soft to practically ravenous as he holds you close, your mouth parts automatically and he slips his tongue in.

When you finally pull back to breath deeper, he looks at you with amazement. "I love you Simon Riley." You whisper and rest your forehead against his, "I have since we were 15. Don't leave me again Simon. Not if you can help it."

"You're gonna hate me then." He whispers as he holds you close. "I'm returning to duty in a month."

"I could never hate you Simon. Not in a million years. Just… write to me and when you go on leave again,” You take a steadying breath, “We can talk about what we are." He nods and you press your lips to his again.

You stand in the rain. You fucking hate the rain. It soaks through your black clothes and makes it stick to your skin. It mats down your hair and hides the tears that run down your face. There is no one here, no one but you and the priest at this funeral. How could this happen, you wonder. Everything was perfect. You look at the name on the gravestone. Tommy, Beth and Joseph, there's another gravestone a few feet away that has his mothers and fathers name on it. Simon is the only one who is buried alone. A bitter and petty choice from their distant family. Everyone thinks Simon did it. There was no proof to prove otherwise and it fit the story. A soldier returns home and suffers a PTSD breakdown and kills his entire family.

It didn't make sense. Simon was getting better, he promised he was getting better and attending therapy appointments. He loved Joseph, he loved his family and he loved you. He would have never done this. Maybe he would have murdered his father but the anger there was long and bitter, if he wanted to kill his father, he would have done it years ago.

Earlier last month, you had passed by a stand with different brochures. Some of them were for churches, others for activities to do with the family. Normally, you would have passed by it, eager to leave the store as quickly as possible. But you stopped this time and glanced at a particular brochure, you picked it from its spot and glanced over it. “You belong here.” A soldier is yelling while another is taking cover, inside are different recruiting offices and general information. You pocket it.

It was an impulsive decision. But the papers were filed and your two week notice already given. You didn't want to think about the consequences of what you were about to do, you just felt lost. University didn't matter, your cafe job didn't matter and every street in this fucking city reminded you of him. You decided if you were going to join the military. You had been accepted, the letter sat in your bag now that all of your items in your flat had been packed up and stored in your old childhood bedroom. This was just the last thing to do before the bus picks you up tomorrow morning.

You throw the roses in your hand into the caskets until you reach Simons. Your hand trembles as it holds the thorny rose, shakily you bring it to your lips and kiss the petals before tossing it into his grave. "I love you Simon Riley."

You watch as the city of Manchester flows past you like a river. It's raining again and the droplets obscure your vision of the outside world. People around you talk and you realize just how out of place you are. These are 16, 17 and 18 year olds with bright eyes and dreams. You vaguely wonder if Simon had sat in silence as he liked to do or if he had been dragged into a conversation. You glance at your duffle bag by your feet before leaning your head back and shutting your eyes. The bus ride would be a long one, you figure that some rest would make it faster.

Your name is called and you step forward, you hold onto the bag of items shoved into your arms. You listen to the drill sergeant yell that these are your items. You are responsible for maintaining and keeping track of all things in this bag. You realize, in a way that makes it difficult not to smile, that Simon was right. They are hard arses here.

You wonder why Simon never told you about this but he never seemed to tell you anything. You curse the dead man and curse yourself for being impulsive. Nearly done with university and you dropped out for him, for a dead man who was buried alone in his own grave. You use your anger to make it to the end, your uniform is covered in mud and the sensation makes your skin crawl but you run forward towards the rope wall, swinging your rifle over your back. “Come on Private!” The drill sergeant screams at you, “I’ve seen injured men move faster than you do!” You grit your teeth as he mocks you.

The scratches that litter your body sting as you crawl through the mud and muck underneath the barbed wire with a rifle held close to your chest. You breathe out puffs of condensation in the air, you’re shivering and you keep your jaw clenched so your teeth don’t chatter. You keep crawling, inching like a caterpillar towards the end of this section and fight the urge to just lay there on the ground. The cold rain soaks through your clothes and you grunt when part of the barbed wire above you catches onto your leg again. “Fuck.” You hiss but you’re nearly there.

It's his job, you remind yourself, to try and break you. If Simon leaving didn’t break you, if him and his family dying didn’t break you then this fucking drill sergeant was not going to break you. You climb up the rope and grapple onto the next bit of rope, locking your legs with your ankles and you inch down the rope even as your hands burn.

That night as you sit in the corner of the mess hall, you itch at the bandages wrapped around your hand. Whatever salve the lady in the med bay had slathered onto your hand hadn’t done much to cool the burning. You know it's counterintuitive to scratch at it but who was going to stop you? You were an adult now and could suffer the consequences of your stupid actions. Like not demanding Simon give you answers on why he was pulling away after finally confessing his feelings. You clench your fist and smother those feelings with the pain you feel.

No matter how many times you try to remind yourself there's no point in focusing on the past you can’t stop. How can you stop? Everything you’ve done has been for him and now he’s gone and you’re still doing things for him. You look around the mess hall at the different groups of fellow trainee’s and know you’ll never have that kind of connection with anyone else. Simon was it. Your best friend since childhood, your first crush and first heartbreak. You wander outside and sit on a stack of crates near the mess when the talking and clanking of silverware grows too much.

The night is cool, the sky is clear from the rain that had poured so hard earlier but you can’t see the stars anyway. You go to itch at your hand again when a drill sergeant comes around the corner. You stiffen up and immediately get up to salute but he dismisses you before you even get your hand to your forehead. “Private, why aren’t you in the mess eating?”

“Lost my appetite, sir.” You reply, “Figured some fresh air would do me some good.” You go to scratch at your hand again and his eyes snap to the motion.

“Private, did the nurse not provide you with burn cream?” He asked and it was weird having the man who yelled at you all day suddenly become concerned for your well-being.

“She did, sir, it just itches.” You explain and the drill sergeant makes a face, for a second you worry that he will demand that you return to the med bay again. Instead, he nods.

“Dismissed Private. Get some rest.” You nod and scurry away to your barracks.

The helicopter’s wings slow but any flyaways in your hair whip and stick to your face anyways. After serving in the SAS for five years, you had been picked by Chief station Laswell and Captain John Price to be a part of the 141 task force. You couldn’t believe you had finally done it, all these years of serving and you start to finally believe that you might’ve done Simon some justice. All the broken bones, bruises and scars are worth it if it means he’s looking down on you fondly. You look between the four men in front of you. You recognize Captain Price immediately with his boonie hat and well groomed mutton chops. He extends his hand which you take and shake with a firm grip. “Boys, this is Gator. They’ll be joinin’ our task force startin’ today.”

The man standing next to Price smiles at you, beautiful white teeth with a stunning smile and soft brown eyes. He has a scar on his cheek and you wonder how he got it as you shake his hand, “This is Sergeant Garrick.” Price says and you beam back at him.

“A pleasure to meet you Sergeant.”

“No need for that, just call me Gaz.” He assures you and lets go of your hand. You turn to meet the third man and before you can even open your mouth or extend your hand to shake, he’s grabbing yours with a grip tight enough to shatter a few bones. He has a stupid mohawk haircut that he somehow makes work, crystal blue eyes and you can tell that he’s a little mischievous.

“I’m Sergeant MacTavish but e’eryone calls me Soap.” He laughs, warm like an early summer day, when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I’ll tell ye why later.” He promises with a wink.

“Oi! Johnny, stop hoggin’ the new meat.” You turn to the voice and have to stop yourself from taking a step back just so you could look at the man fully. He’s fucking huge. Broad shoulders, wearing all black and a skull mask to hide his face. You can barely make out his brown eyes from under all that eye black. His accent is rough, with a voice that gives away how much he smokes. He looks down at you, like you suspect he has to most people, and you want to slink away into whatever hole he thinks you crawled out of. Despite this, you stick your hand out for him to shake.

“And this is your Lieutenant, Ghost.” You have to stop yourself from snorting. Ghost, how fitting for a man literally wearing a skull mask. He grips your hand and gives it a firm shake as his eyes burn holes into your soul. You look at his hand when you feel something other than familiar flesh, it's a glove. Even funnier, its skeleton gloves. It sends you nearly into a giggle fit, yes this man is intimidating to a point where you would have been shaking in your boots a few years ago. But he’s unironically wearing skeleton gloves. How is that not funny? He gives you a firm shake but just as quickly removes his gloved hand from yours. “Alright Gator, Ghost will give you a quick tour around here and then I want you to report for training at 0500 hours.”

The tour is silent besides the simple sentences Ghost speaks and you’re that sure he wouldn’t if Price hadn’t put him on the spot for giving you the tour. “This ‘ere is the training hall, this is where yer expected to be tomorrow.” He gruffly says, stiff as a board. You nod and nearly jump out of your skin when someone wraps their arm around your shoulders.

“There ye are! I was tryin’ tae find ye.”

“Sergeant.” Ghost says gruffly and Soap rolls his eyes before removing his arm. “They are busy.”

“Away an bile yer heid.” Soap says with a laugh, “I ken that yer aboot as excited fer this tour as they are.” You didn’t need to see Ghost roll his eyes to know he did, it was just in the way the air shifts around the three of you. “Lemme take over the rest of the tour aye?” Ghost sighs but concedes which confirms that he would really rather be anywhere else than giving the FNG a tour. “Good lad.” Soap chuckles and pats Ghost’s shoulder.

Ghost leaves quickly for being a man so massive and Soap turns to you, “Dinnae mind him, he’s a big grump.” You snort and laugh while nodding in agreement. “Alright, let's continue this tour.” Soap claps a hand on your back and for the rest of the day, with breaks for food of course, he showed you around. He was certainly better at it then Ghost who acted like he had been asked to travel across the sahara desert while carrying you.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap groans while he stumbles back from you. Sweat sticks to your forehead and your usual hairdo is ruined but so is the way of sparring and training. “I see why they call ye Gator.” He grumbles as he holds his head. “Ye fuckin’ death rolled me.” Soap accuses and it was true. You have the strength to take down men bigger than you in not only height but sheer mass. It was a skill you had honed for the past several years ever since you figured it out in bootcamp.

You wrap your arms around him as he tries to pin you to the mat and roll. You twist with all your might and switch the position then without a second thought you slam your head against his. The force knocks your brain around and the headache you’ll get later is going to be absolutely terrible but the man under you groans and holds his forehead. “I yield! Holy shite.” He curses as you immediately back away from him. You glance around at the group of people who had made it this far into the training and then meet the eyes of your drill sergeant who, if you weren’t mistaken and didn’t have a concussion, looked almost proud.

That night as you hold an ice pack against your forehead and sit outside the mess hall away, he approaches again. “Never seen a private do that.” He says after immediately acknowledging your salute and telling you to be at ease. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do that before.” You sheepishly shrug.

“I didn’t want to lose.”

“And so you didn’t.” A silence hangs in the air as the crickets chirp and you wonder if that's an owl’s hoot you hear. “I think you're going to have a nickname before you even leave camp.” He says, “You have the other sergeants wantin’ to call you Gator.”

“Gator?” You ask even if you understand the implications. You guess you did a kind of death roll that poor buy but Gator? Really?

“Better than some poor sod who got named Dirt because he ended up with a mouth full of dirt after tripping on the 20 mile march.” You chuckle at that.

“I guess Gator is much better than Dirt.”

“That’s the spirit. You better get some rest for tomorrow, Private.” He says before walking away and just like that time, leaving you to sit in the cool night air before you heed his warning.

You grit your teeth as Ghost ignores you again. You’re just trying to get him to sign from fucking paperwork Captain Price asked of you. “Lieutenant I need-”

“Not now sergeant.” Ghost says as he walks away from you and you want to scream. Its been like this the entire time you’ve been on this team. At first you thought it was his way of hazing you, act like a dickhead and see if the FNG breaks. Well you haven’t broken, you’ve only doubled down because every time he acts like this you keep being reminded of Simon and how he wouldn’t have given up.

At least Gaz and Soap were more open to you being on their task force now that months had passed. Although you doubt if Soap had ever disliked the idea of you being on the force. You barely duck Gaz’s punch but aren’t fast enough to catch his leg before it slams full force into your side. You grab it before he can bring it back and yank on it so he falls onto the floor, he rolls over before you can pin him down. You stare at each other for a moment before you lunge at him like a rabid dog without a leash.

He steps to the side and then grabs the back of your shirt collar to slam you down into the mat. You squirm and fight to keep him from pinning your arms back but it's no use. And in this position, death rolling him was nearly impossible. And you’ve definitely been trying. “Distracted Gator?” Gaz asks as he pants and you snarl back at him before you let out a meek ‘I yield’. He releases you immediately and you rub your wrists. “Broken?”

“Negative.” You say as you walk over to grab your bottle of water.

Watching you spar from the corner was Ghost. He observes the way you fight and the way you wiggle out of every attempt to pin you until the last. If it wasn’t for your infamous ability to death roll, he’s sure you would have ended up being called Weasel. And wasn’t that an amusing thought? Still better than Soap. “Ye stalkin’ the FNG.” Soap teases and Ghost glances down at Soap with what he knows is a deadpan expression. Or at least deadpan eyes. Mask and all that.

“You stalkin’ me?” Ghost shoots back and Soap grins this feral grin that makes Ghost groan inwardly because that grin meant only one thing. Dog with a fuckin’ bone, thats what Soap is when he thinks he’s smelt something out. “Don’t start MacTavish.”

“Oh its MacTavish it is?” Soap feigns hurt as he clutches his chest. “Ye wound me sir.”

“It is when yer about to say somethin’ god awfully stupid.”

“Yer no fun L.T.” Soap laments and Ghost rolls his eyes while shaking his head at Soap’s antics. Soap looks past Ghost and to Gator who is talking with Gaz on the bench while the two of them drink water and give the other advice. “Slippery thing they are.” Soap comments and Ghost nods. “Dinnae think I’ve ever seen someone slip out of your hold befure.”

“Is tha’ the reason yer botheirn’ me Sergeant?”

“Botherin’ ye? Nae sir, jus’ wanna see how Gaz manages to take them down.” Soap says, a half truth and they both know it.

“They gave him a hard time too.”

“Do ye think tha’ they oil up befure every sparrin’ match?” Soap says with a smile and Ghost rolls his eyes despite the small smile growing beneath his mask. You look up and notice Soap and Ghost which immediately makes him want to flee the scene. Every time you lock eyes with him, it sends him back to his time in Mexico. You’re a constant reminder and he wants you gone. Simon is dead and he’s not sure why you even joined the fucking military in the first place. Last he knew you were close to finishing off your degree, did you drop out to join this place?

Ghost grits his teeth as he shoves the memories of both Roba and you back into the box he had stuffed the two of you into years ago. He can’t open the box for one without the other escaping. You offer him a small smile and he turns on his heel. He walks as quickly as he can back to his private quarters, perks of being an officer and also being dead he guessed. He slams his door behind him and marches right into the bathroom. He yanks off the mask and stares at himself. He stares at the scars across his face, his broken one-too-many-times nose and the scar that cuts his lip. He takes stalk of his flaws within his face, the one you had seen and hadn’t recoiled from.

He wonders if you even suspect that its him and his chest hurts at the thought that you’ve forgotten him. But he knows he hasn’t earned his right back into your life, he’s dead. He can never be the man you need or want, he’s different now. Much more scarred than when he returned from Mexico, he’s brash and rude. He doesn’t like people and he doesn’t like that he still wants to be near you. It’s irrational, it’s stupid and there’s nothing he can do about it but try and get to you to quit.

“Captain Price told me to give this to you.” A Corporal says, clearly shaking in his boots, as he hands Ghost a file. “A-and he told me that he wants you in the briefing room.”

“Dismissed Corporal.” Ghost says and the man scurries off. Ghost looks at the file and opens it, the first thing he sees is that it’s a duo op. The second thing he sees is that you’re the one coming along. “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters as he looks at your little picture papercliped to the top of the page next to his faceless one.

“He always does that.” You groan to Gaz as you watch Ghost turn on his heel and leave once you lock eyes with him. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, “It's been months.”

Gaz shrugs, “Ghost is an enigma, when you start to think you know him you find something else about him. That man has secrets upon secrets.” You frown at that statement. Obviously he was hiding his face to protect his identity and of course that made you naturally curious but you’ve never pressed about it. He’s quiet and efficient if any of the stories told you by Gaz and Soap were anything to go by. And now he’s a secret keeper.

Who are you Ghost?

”The group that had been inhabiting the old soviet base are still lingering around and might return when they realize that they’ve left behind a very important piece of information.” Captain Price says and points to the projected map on the wall. “You’ll need to be fast and efficient. Is that clear?” His blue eyes scan over the two of you and both of you echo a ‘yes sir’ at the same time. “Good, get your gear and be ready, you’re wheels up in two hours.”

You sit at the table in the briefing room, bouncing your leg up and down under the table as Captain Price goes over what the mission objective is and what intel you and Ghost will be going in with. The mission is in Siberia, the objective is to get an old usb drive from a recently re-abandoned USSR base. You glance over at Ghost who hasn’t stopped looking at you this entire time, only dragging his eyes away from you when Captain Price addresses him specifically. His brown eyes seem to be trying to burn holes into your very soul so you try to match it. This would be your first duo op with Ghost and you would not be pushed around during it.

“Yes sir.” You say and leave the room after being properly dismissed. You look at the file in your hand, the information covered in the briefing summarized in the file with certain things blacked out. Like the fact this is in Siberia or that it’s an old soviet base that had been taken over by a terrorist group for a short while. You worry about that fact, if this base had been well and truly abandoned, why would the group set up there? Siberia wasn’t exactly a very hospitable environment and would take a certain amount of resources to deal with. Not just any kind of terrorist group would be able to afford those expenses.

“What’s got ye frownin’ so hard?” Soap asks and you jolt, not even aware that Soap had come up to you. He glances at the file and whistles, “Yer on a mission with L.T?”

”Somethin’ wrong with that? Something I should be worried about?” You ask, glancing behind Soap to make sure that specter wasn’t there.

“Nae, nothin’ ye should worry about besides the stick up his arse.” Soap jokes and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Soap grins, “There’s that smile.” Soap pinches your cheek and you swat at his hand.

”What are you? My aunt?”

”Nae I’m worse.” Soap laughs as he goes to pinch your cheek again. You squeal and laugh as you take off towards the armory and Soap gives chase. You eventually make him leave, shoo-ing him off so you can change into your gear. The gear is heavy but familiar, a comforting kind of weight that you always mourn once an op is over. Tightening the strap of your vest until you felt like it was secure enough and doing the same thing with the gun holster on your thigh.

”You tighten it anymore and you’ll lose blood flow.” Ghost grunts and you stop yourself from startling a little. Ghost walks up to you and loosens the straps himself a little before your brain starts working again. You slap his hands away and glare up at him.

”I am perfectly capable of knowing when to stop tightening my straps.” You hiss. You had been in the SAS long enough to know your preferences and the fact that he is trying to baby you is insulting at best and downright disrespectful at worst. Ghost stares down at you, brown eyes dead but also filled with some kind of emotion you can’t place. He says nothing else, doesn’t even grunt, before he turns to get his gear on. You huff and finish preparing your items for the op.

You go over the file one last time while on the flight to Siberia, flipping through the different pages and you can’t fight off the gut feeling that something isn’t right. You bounce your leg as you look at the map of the base, for an old soviet base, it's small. Granted, you don’t know how big USSR bases in Siberia tended to be but this is just too small. You glance at Ghost and contemplate mentioning this to him but since the armory he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Let alone even look your way which would normally be a reprieve but right now you wish he would look, just so you’d feel less awkward starting a conversation. You remind yourself that he’s a Lieutenant, he knows more than a Sergeant such as yourself. You need to trust your commanding officer.

Ghost can feel the warmth from you, like you had leaked a part of yourself into his gloves and now he can’t get rid of it. He doesn’t understand why he had approached and went to fix your straps, really they are too tight for comfort, but when you had slapped his hands away it was like a shock had gone through him. Like his entire system had been rebooted from the simple touch, now he can’t even bear to look at you. He can feel the weight of your gaze on him though and that’s how he knows that he acted out of character. He clenches his fist so tight his knuckles are cramped when he opens it again, he wishes you would just say what you want to say.

He wishes you would yell at him so he would have something to tell Price about, to maybe get you booted off the team. He’s been a prick to you, moving your stuff in the rec room, eating your food and being condescending. What kind of drill sergeant you had, he didn’t know but they must’ve turned your will into steel. Or maybe you were always like that, you hadn’t given up on him when you got a glance at his life at home. You treated his bloody noses and busted lips, you convinced your parents to let him stay over as often as possible. You even went with him to get Tommy despite the shit Tommy and his shitty friends had put you through.

Ghost clenches his jaw, no matter what, this is better for you. He just needs to get you to quit or maybe transfer to some kind of safer job in the military if you’re so hell bent on staying. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you dropped out of university. He steals a glance and sees you looking at the file the same way you would look at study notes before a test.

You were right. Of course you were fucking right. Why do you have to be right? The base is much, much bigger than the intel said and worse is the fact that its not completely abandoned. “Get the fuck out of there!” Ghost yells over comms and you’re so close to just tearing the wiring in half so you don’t have to listen to him. You turn another corner, refilling the ammo in your pistol as the sound of pounding footsteps echo down the long concrete hallways of this underground base. You wait for the man to turn the corner and shoot him right between the eyes, the muzzle on your pistol only does so much and the sound bounces off the walls. ”I said to get out of there soldier!”

You snarl, “I’m getting this fucking USB drive, fuck off!” You say into comms as you run down the halls. Lights flicker above you and distantly you can hear soldiers yelling. Just a few more turns, you tell yourself as you slide into a wall, using your arms you push off it and keep going. Once out of this god forsaken underground, NOT abandoned, USSR base you’d die happy never seeing another concrete hall. You slam the door open to the server room stored deep in the base and lock it behind you, hoping that might spare you some time between you and soldiers surely running down the halls towards you.

”Don’t ignore me Sergeant!” His voice comes out warbled, likely because you’re so far underground. You clench your jaw so hard your teeth hurt as you fling open different desk drawers, toss everything onto the desk in search of the USB they sent you here for in the first place. After six desks, you realize there is no way there is a USB.

”Fucking CIA intel.” You grab an unused USB from a desk and jam it into the nearest computer. “Fucking lucky I took that damn class.” You mutter to yourself as you bypass the passwords and begin to download the information.

”Sergeant! I said get out of there, use your bloody ears!”

”I have to download everything myself!” You yell into the comms, “The intel was shite!” You slam your pistol into the PC you’re not currently using. “Fucking CIA.”

”I don’t care! I’m pulling us from this mission.”

”I’m getting this USB Lieutenant, you’re welcome to chew me out once I’m back on the surface.” You snap, “Going dark.”

”Don’t you da-“ You rip the wires out of your comms and throw the damn thing onto the floor.

Ghost yells into the comms again but only gets static back, he looks down at the base from the scope of his sniper. It looks abandoned, it looks small and easy to navigate but he heard what you said. He knows that its all a facade, that the terrorist group had found tunnels to another base nearby and have been smuggling weapons and food between those tunnels, hardly ever having to go outside at this base. Which is what led the intel team to believe its been abandoned and therefore an easy op. His heart is pounding against his chest and it hurts from how hard its beating against his chest, he keeps trying the comms. “Gator! Gator turn your comms back on!” He snarls into the mic but still nothing.

It’s then that it dawns on him that you didn’t just turn comms off, you ripped the wiring out. “God damn it.” He grunts as he gets off the ground, the snow disguising him falls to the ground as he hauls his sniper up and buries it under the snow between two trees. He pulls out his shitty cracked phone, that he frankly refuses to replace. He knows why and its not because he doesn’t like the newer versions. It’s because this one has those pictures of you, the version of you that hadn’t turned your back on civilian life yet. The version of you that makes him feel kind of sick for looking at now that he knows you now.

He opens up his map to the coordinates to the nearest safe house, and grabs his pistol before he puts his phone away. He sighs and makes his way down towards the base that must be crawling with enemy terrorists but no one gets left behind. And he’s not about to let you die down there, his grip on his pistol tightens for just a second before he forces his fist to relax. He saunters his way in, everyone is far too distracted with chasing you down to pay attention to the cameras. He slides down the ladder into the base and is immediately greeted with the muffled sound of an alarm. “Fucking hell.” He mutters as he readies his pistol and knife.

You grunt, push the metal cabinet against the door, pushing through the pain in your thigh to do so. By the time it’s in place, you collapse against the wall next to it, grunting at the pain that shoots up your thigh in quick bursts. You look at the bullet wound and can’t help the disgust that crawls up your face when you realize it's pumping blood out in the rhythm of your heart beat. It’s funny, you’ve been shot before but you never had the time to look at it. It makes sense that it would do that though. You lean your head back against the concrete wall and can’t help the sob that rips it way out of your throat. Not because you’re going to die, not entirely because of that. Because you’re going to die in a concrete box alone.

You smear your bloody hand against the wall, wiping it off as you fumble with your shirt, pull just enough fabric out and rip it. No, you think, you’re not going to die here. Anywhere but in fucking Siberia surrounded by enemies and in a damn concrete room underground. You wrap the torn fabric around your thigh, just above the wound and wrap it tightly. So tightly you can actually feel the blood flow being slowed and this time on purpose. You check the bullets in your pistol and laugh when you see only two. “And I’m fucking out.” You mumble just as you hear someone’s boots echo outside of the room. You rise on shaky legs and bite your tongue to keep from crying out from the pain but walk over to the corner. You raise the gun and point towards the metal cabinet that is rocking from the force of what must be either several people pushing or one big motherfucker.

You don’t pray, no sense in praying right now. Even if you did ask for forgiveness you wouldn’t get it, the blood on your hands is more than any person can justify, not even God because it is a rule. Thou shall not murder. You huff out a laugh at that, well you’ve certainly sinned. The metal cabinet comes crashing down and in bursts three men. Fuck. You fire your last two shots and take down the first two but when the third enemy hears the gun click, he laughs. It’s an ugly and horrible laugh, one that expresses his entire arrogance of you being in this situation. Wounded and without any ammo, your knife left behind in some fuckers neck a few corners ago. “You lose.” He taunts as he walks closer and your leg finally loses feeling, you slide down the wall as you stare at the man who is going to hopefully bring you death.

You’re reminded of that quote you read once, When I die, bury me in the woods, the wolves will be kinder to me than any man. And if you weren’t about to meet your end, you’d laugh at the fact you can’t even remember the woman who said it. You hope she got her wish. The man raises his pistol and presses it to your temple. You hear a bang echo in the room and expect for it all to be over but you grunt when the man lands on you. “What the fuck?” You mutter as you struggle to push the weight of a dead man off of you. He’s pulled off of you and you look up at the bloody skull face plate, “Aren’t you just a life saver?” You quip before you throw up.

Ghost huffs when you pass out after throwing up and narrowly avoiding his boots. He hauls you up and over his shoulder, tucking your pistol into your thigh holster. Trying to get you up the ladder was hell, he was constantly afraid that his grip would loosen and you’d fall to your death. The walk to the safe house is about half way done when he feels your stirring. He grips you tighter just in case you try to flail around and attempt to land yourself in the snow.

When you come to, you realize that you’re over someone’s shoulder. Just as you’re about to flail around, the memory of Ghost standing over you. “Awake now?” Ghost asks, his voice rough as always and that reminds you of someone you used to know. You give your reply in the form of a groan which is all that seems to want to leave your mouth. “We’re about an hour away from a safe house.”

”And I wasn’t told?” You snap, anger pushing past the way you feel like you’re going to throw up if you speak again.

”Need to know.”

”Well I might’ve needed to know!” You flail your arms around harmlessly before you collapse back to being a rag doll on his back. He doesn’t respond and when you think he’s about to return to his normal grumpy silence, he breaks it.

”What the fuck were you thinkin’?” He snaps and you jolt awake from the half sleep you had unknowingly slipped into. “Ripping your comm wires out and going dark. What the fuck Sergeant?”

”I wasn’t able to focus with you screaming at me to abandon the mission.” You immediately jump to defend, “I got the damn USB drive with the intel they need, I completed the mission.” You don’t even realize that he’s reached the safe house until he nearly kicks the door in because the doorknob is frozen. He practically tosses you onto the couch before slamming the door shut. “I completed the objective.” You nearly snarl out.

”You failed to follow simple orders to retreat.” He slams his pistol and knife down on the table, “You nearly died.”

”Yeah, well it didn’t seem like you’d care all that fucking much if I did! If I hadn’t gotten the USB,” You pull the damn thing from your front vest pouch and throw it onto the table. “then the entire thing would have been a waste!”

”I don’t care about the USB, if you’re in danger like that you follow my damn orders! I can’t lose you!” Ghost grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you just a little. You look at him, feeling confusion creep up before it is swallowed down by anger.

”What?”

”Forget about it.”

”No. You’ve been treating me like a damn nuisance the minute I joined the task force and now you suddenly care? Why now huh? Why now? Because you sure didn’t act like I mattered very much.”

”I said forget about it.” He snarls but you go to stand on shaking legs

”No fuck that! Fuck you Ghost! What changed?” You keep hounding him until he slams his fist down the table and rips off his mask.

He says your name gently, like he’s trying to soothe an animal but you’re frankly ready to sink your teeth into his skin if he tries to approach. “You didn’t even have the courage to write? Not even a little postcard? Something! Anything! To let me know you’re not dead? You’re lucky I’m not able to walk.” You spit.

Rage boils up in you so quickly, so quickly you aren’t able to express it all just through yelling. It burns you up, sets you on fire and throws lighter fluid into that inferno any time you think it's about to burn a little less. It’s all consuming anger mixed with all those years of grief that you never properly addressed, just slapped a bandaid on called military life and carried on. Hot tears run down your face as you scream and rage at him. You even throw something at him, though he ducks out of the way easily. “You fucking bastard! You bastard! Fuck you Simon Riley!” You scream as you cry, head pounding from something. The pain in your thigh? The rage in your temple? Or how hard you’re crying? Probably a mixture of all three. “You’re dead! I buried you! I went to your funeral Riley!” You throw something else at him, probably an MRE.

”Would you listen-“ Simon tries to say but you immediately cut him off. Hearing his voice makes whatever walls you have built up over these five years crumble so easily. You can’t let him speak or else you’ll fall into his arms and just cry. And you need to be angry because you deserve to be angry.

”No! You listen to me Simon Riley!” You ball your hands into fists, “Why? Why did you treat me like shit? Why did you undermine me at every turn? It’s bad enough that you let me believe that you were dead! Wasn’t that enough for you? But of course it wasn’t, you had to make my life hell because you met me again!”

”Shut up!” Simon finally snaps, his brown eyes swirling with fury and guilt. “I had my reasons and if you would just-”

”Well what were they then? Huh? I’m all fucking ears.”

”You keep interrupting me. If you didn’t-“

”You had months to come clean Simon! Years if you count the time before I met you again and after all that time you couldn’t just be a man and tell me? Couldn’t even send me a hint that you were alive?” You slam your fist into the wall, you ignore the pain that shoots right up your arm into your shoulder. You glare at him through your tears and wipe at them frantically. “You didn’t even try.”

”I did it to protect you! And if you’d just let me speak I’d tell you all the reasons I had to not tell you or even let you think I was alive!” Simon finally manages to say, he goes to speak again and you hold up your hand.

”Don’t talk to me Simon Riley.” You say as you wipe away any tears from your cheeks that hadn’t rolled all the way down. Your eyes burn and your stomach hurts from just how much you’re feeling right now. Deep down, past the anger you feel relief because he’s alive. Your Simon is alive and maybe more rough around the edges with a scar bisecting his lip, a nasty scar along his cheek and nose broken and not properly set several times. You’re also sure his eye bags have increased tenfold since you last saw him but his eye black keeps that little fact hidden from you. His teeth are chipped and broken but his brown eyes still hold that same depth. You can tell he still smiles the same and he’s still that overprotective boy who had scared off your date that one time just by opening the door.

That’s still your Simon Riley. But damn him to the deepest hell and back for making your heart hurt so badly. “Fine.” He grits out before he marches to what you assume is the safe house bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

There is something wrong with me. That is Simon’s first thought when he looks at himself in the mirror that must be old because his reflection is warped. There is something wrong with me and it's not the scars or the way my joints ache when I stand or sit down. There is something wrong with me and it makes my blood run black. Simon wonders if he had been born wrong. He suspects he’s always been this way, he was his father’s son after all, doomed to be awful to all of those he knows. To use them and drain them dry until they cut him off or he tosses them away. He doesn’t want you to be part of that cycle, to be a part of the cycle that always results in those close to him dying.

He already lost his family, he couldn’t lose you too so he cut you out completely. It was better if you thought he was dead. You were better off thinking he was dead in the ground even if it hurt you, even if it hurt him. And fuck did it hurt that first year, every time something happened he wanted to call you or text you. Tell you all about it late at night in a part of base where no one would care if he was awake if they even dared to approach him at all. Simon wanted to return to you more then anything but Ghost hadn’t dug himself out of that grave and lost his entire family as consequence for not fucking dying just for you to meet that same fate. No, you’d be his only in memory. Maybe one day he’d stalk your social media and find that you’ve moved on. Hopefully out of that fucking city, working a good paying job with a man who deserved you.

And it didn’t matter how much that thought made his supposedly ice heart hurt. It didn’t matter because he was dead and there was nothing he could give you besides this rotting body and whatever love he could scrape together for you.

Simon looks at himself in the mirror, completely maskless and bare for what felt like the first time in years. It felt like his skin had been pulled away to show the maggots, rotting tendons and muscle underneath. Every tear that had left your beautiful eyes had felt like acid on his skin, every word thrown his way a well placed knife throw. He knew he deserved all that malice and if you didn't want to talk to him, then he wouldn’t talk to you. No matter how much he wants to.

The next two days go by slowly, it reminds you of the time you had to go through a bog. Slow movements and time seemed to slow to a fucking crawl as you traversed the bog to go around an enemy encampment so you could get the jump on them from behind. It didn’t matter that your clothes had been soaked through or that you could feel the cold of the water seeping into your bones. You kept going. So the same logic was applied here. Your bullet wound in your thigh eventually got treated properly, in silence of course. Simon had given you the first aid kit and you did your best with what you had. Digging out the bullet had to be one of the most painful experiences you’ve ever had.

Simon had wanted to step in and do it himself but he knew you’d sooner accept an infection then let him any closer then needed. By the end of the hour and several deep, guttural screams cut off only by the belt between your teeth, you had managed to pull the bullet out. You were quick to stitch the hole closed and to wrap it in bandages. When that was over, you only had enough strength to crawl onto the shitty couch and pass out.

The first day not talking to him was filled with tension. It was so thick you could cut it with your knife, if you had it that is. It’s still stuck in that asshole’s neck which sucks because it was a good neck. You were hesitant to put any pressure on your wound, terrified of ripping your frankly shit stitches and increasing the chances of you getting an infection. You spent the entire day cleaning and taking apart your gun with occasional glares sent to Simon if he tried to enter the same room as you and stay for more than a few minutes.

He understood your anger, he did, but he couldn’t stand it at the same time. He wants to sit right next to and soak in your presence in a way he hadn’t allowed himself before this. He hadn’t bothered to put his mask back on and when he had stepped out of the bathroom without it the first time you had jerked like someone had pinched you. You could still tell he had blonde hair from his eyebrows but seeing his blonde hair in a buzz cut had felt like an electric shock. That was still your Simon even all these years later and that made you angrier. How could he? How dare he? After all these years, he looked the same despite the scars on his face but you? Do you still look the same despite the weariness in your eyes and being grief eaten.

The only word he spoke to you was, “There’s a blizzard coming in tomorrow.” You had only given a grunt in acknowledgement which he had to admit, stung. How many times had he responded to you like that while trying to get you to quit and transfer somewhere else? Far too many times, he ran a gloved hand through his prickly hair as he shook his head. God he had been so fucking stupid and stubborn. As it turns out, the blizzard couldn’t wait until tomorrow or maybe it was the next day. The wind shook the entire safe house, the walls creaked and groaned from the force of it. The windows were covered by snow or maybe it was a white out, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t even want to lift your head to check. You were fucking freezing despite your thermals and the blanket. Your teeth chattered as you pulled the blanket even closer and closed your eyes. Your cheeks were numb and you could barely feel your nose, your fingers actually hurt from how cold they were.

You blew more warm breath into your cupped hands, your entire body shivered as another burst of wind caused the house to groan from the weight of it. You glanced around the living room/kitchen area, the fireplace was boarded up but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t, you had no wood. The only thing of light was a battery powered lamp that you had been surprised still worked. You knew where Simon was, in the only other room besides the bathroom, the bedroom. Getting up those stairs would have been impossible for you the first two days here with your injury. Hell, you even doubted if you had enough strength to do it now even with the protein and nutrient packed MRE’s given to you for rations. But you suspected if you didn’t seek out another form of warmth and soon, you’d end up a popsicle. And frankly? That sounded like a bad way to go.

You shakily got to your feet, where it was from being nervous about putting weight on your injured leg or if you were cold, you couldn’t be sure. But you wobble up the stairs, gripping the rail for life the entire way and nearly falling when you finally manage to get the doorknob to turn. Simon catches you, he opens his mouth to chastise you before he realizes the state you’re in. He mutters your name, brown eyes filled with worry as you shrug, too tired and frozen to verbally shrug. He shakes his head and brings you to the mattress in the corner, he quickly runs downstairs and grabs your blanket before returning upstairs. You grumble, which honestly was just noises from the back of your throat as he settles next to you, pulling both blankets over the two of you. After a few minutes and warming up a little you mumble, “This doesn’t change that I’m upset with you.”

”I would never expect it to.” He whispers back as he wraps an arm around you. It shouldn’t be as easy as it is, like two pieces of a puzzle finally snapping together. You seep warmth from him like a leech while he holds you close and steady enough that you don’t shiver or shake. He stays awake the entire time, long after you’ve fallen asleep on your pack-made-pillow. Simon looks at you and drinks you in properly this time. Despite the blizzard outside still raging on and the cold temperatures making your skin lose a little color, you’re still as stunning as the day he confessed his love to you. He can still recall that day, sitting at a bench a little ways away from the reception party. The cool October breeze blowing through and the way you looked so relaxed. So content with the moment and with him. He kissed you that night, he kissed you like a starving animal. Like he might never get to kiss you again and that he needed to take what he could now.

“I love you Simon Riley. I have since we were 15. Don’t leave me again Simon, not if you can help it.” He was fucking idiot not to say it back, he didn’t even think to do so because his heart had been stabbed the moment you pleaded with him not to leave because he was leaving again. He was leaving you, the best thing in his entire life. Then he came back fucked but he did his best to get better. He didn’t want to touch you, he was terrified he would hurt you. Force himself on you, every night he dreamed that he was hurting you and that he enjoyed it. The therapy helped a little, you and his family helped a lot. Having something to return to helped so much. Then it all came burning down and damn it, he wasn’t going to let you die. So he killed the men then he returned to Mexico and killed Roba and his entire cartel. Then he never returned home, he never let you even think that he was alive. He glances down at you, sleeping in his arms

Sometimes, if he looks at you even now, he can recall the day the two of you met.

It was so cold and the rain didn’t make anything better. He trembles in his too-big shirt and pants which are rolled up to stop him from tripping again. He sniffles and wipes at his face, if he wipes away tears or the rain he doesn’t know. Other kids pass by him quickly with their umbrellas, rain coats and boots, protected by the things their mum’s and dad’s buy for them. His dad had sold his and Tommy’s umbrella’s and coats to afford more alcohol and drugs. Being the good big brother that Simon told himself he was, he let Tommy take their mum’s coat instead of him. He didn’t regret that, he could never regret making Tommy’s life a little better.

He isn’t expecting you to walk up to him with an umbrella with yellow ducks on it. He recognizes you almost instantly, you go to his class. You ask him, “What are you doing without an umbrella?” with your head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.

He mumbled out, eyes averted to the ground and soggy strawberry hair sticking to his forehead, “I don’t have one.” You asked if his mum didn’t buy him one. She did, she always did her best to provide for him and Tommy but his dad always ruined it. You don’t wait for him to respond, you don’t push for further answers or make fun of him for not having an umbrella or raincoat.

Instead, you smile at him and hold the umbrella with yellow ducks on it over his head after pulling the hood of your coat over your head. “Well it doesn’t matter now, I’m here and we can share.” You give him your name and he gives you his with the tiniest smile on his face. You held the umbrella over his head the entire way there then you walked him home because it was still raining. You called him a friend.

When you wake up, he lets you sit in silence. The blizzard had mostly passed through during the night, the worst of it was over but the safe house outside of the blankets was freezing cold. Simon knew he wasn’t exactly in a rush to leave the warmth and comfort of this moment. The silence hangs between the two of you and at some point, you begin to play with fingers in the way you used to when growing up. It takes a better part of an hour for him to work up the courage and it really feels like he is going to throw up when he whispers, “Do you still love me?” It’s quiet that if you didn’t know his voice that you’d think it was the wind still blowing.

He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the killing blow. For you tell him that you don’t love him anymore, especially after these five years and the shit he pulled. But it doesn’t come, instead he hears your shuffling and feels your slightly cold hands cup his stubble covered cheeks. He peaks his eyes open and nearly melts at the sight before him. You, nearly in tears as you look at him so fondly like you did that October day. “Of course I still love you Simon Riley.” He can’t stop himself from closing the gap between the two of you as tears spill from both of your eyes and kiss you.

”I love you Simon Riley.” You kiss his cheeks, “I love you.” You kiss his forehead, “And I’ll keep loving you for eternity.” Simon melts with each kiss you give him and sighs when you kiss his lips again. His large hands find your waist and tug you closer, his thick thigh parting yours as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him, your hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue explores your mouth and a needy moan leaves you. Your heart aches still and tears keep slipping down your face because he’s here. Simon Riley is alive and has been for years. The relief is almost enough to make you forgive him on the spot.

You’re taken by surprise when he kisses you, it's gentle and some tears slip between your connected lips. You don’t even realize that either you or him has started to cry but you return his kiss, trying to keep him this close for as long as you can without breathing. His hands tug you closer, if he could tear open his ribs and stuff you in there instead of his heart and lungs, he would. When you finally pull away, tears still running down your cheeks, you look at him. Tears run down his cheeks too and wet the fabric of his shirt now that they’re not being caught between your lips and spread between your cheeks and his. “Say it again.” He croaks and you repeat it.

Maybe you are forgiving him in a way, not fully. God knows that it will take a lot more than just this to make you forgive him but it's a start. And it’s a start you desperately need, your fingers dig into him further which pulls a groan from him. Immediately you loosen your grip on him, fearing that you’ve hurt him until he pulls away completely breathless and with pupils so wide there’s hardly any brown left, “Don’t stop doing that.” He leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear. It sends goosebumps rising up on your skin as you dig your fingers back into him right as his mouth connects with yours again.

He rests a hand on the back of your neck to keep you close and connected to him. You feel like a teenager again when he slips one of his thick thighs between your own and you grind down on it nearly out of pure instinct. The pressure of your pants seam pressing against your clit makes your legs weak and a liquid warmth to pool. You do it again and you moan into the kiss, his other hand which he had used to cup your cheek immediately went to your hip and grabbed it. He doesn’t try to stop you, instead he encourages you to grind against his thigh. He mutters something against your lips and it comes out muffled but it sounds like, “Take what you need love.” And you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You grind against him, a little harder this time which causes your entire body to jolt as the electric pleasure shoots up your spine. His hand on the back of your neck tangles itself into your hair and he pulls away only barely so he can catch his breath. You’re left breathless and panting as you grind against his thigh, he rests his forehead against yours and his eyes focus on you using his thigh. “Fuck.” He mutters as his hand on your hip moves up and cups your chest. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you furrow your brows, your pace faltering at his words.

”Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m sorry fo’ bein’ such a twat.” He says and pushes his thigh back against you. Your head tips back as a moan leaves your throat and you resume your previous pace. He gropes and paws at your chest, trying to pinch and twist at your hardened nipples from over the fabric of your shirts. “Love, please let me- let me push your shirt up.” He begs and you immediately give your consent. He doesn’t waste another second and pushes your shirt up as far as it would go then he grumbles something to himself before he pulls it over your head and discards it nearby.

He dips his head down and immediately takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand squeezes the other breast. He sucks on it, laving his tongue over it like a dog and letting his teeth graze it slightly when he figures out it makes your hips jolt. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as your thighs tense up and you desperately keep rocking your hips against his thigh. “Si-Simon I’m cl-“ You’re cut off by your own moan when he switches nipples and when he looks up at you between blonde lashes your orgasm washes over you. Your hips stutter and your entire body jolts once or twice as you soak your underwear. Simon swears at the sight of your mouth falling open and your head tipping back to expose your entire neck.

His fingers are nimble as he unbuttons your pants, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of both the pants and your underwear then yanks them down. “Let me? Please let me make you feel good.” He begs and you nod, mind still trying to piece itself back together after the first orgasm. He shuffles under the covers and it’s kind of funny to see the bottom half of his body sticking out but the sight of it is pulled away from you as he yanks you further down the mattress.

”Simon-“ You yelp before it’s cut away into a moan. There’s no preamble or teasing, likely because he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have his mouth on your cunt now, before he buries his face in it. You grab at the blankets, your mouth falling open as you moan when his tongue flicks your engorged clit. He can’t seem to decide if he wants to focus on your clit or your pulsing hole, dipping his tongue down to slurp up your juices before returning to your clit. He’s desperate, his hands are gripping your thighs like you might try and pull away despite your moans and pleads for more filling the safe house.

He eases one thick finger into you as he sucks on your clit and you see stars in your vision. “Like that- oh my god- like that please don’t stop.” You whimper as your fingers card through his hair. You moan and start to squirm a little as he begins to pump his thick digit in and out of you. He seems to be searching for something, trying different things and sticking to the one that makes you keen the loudest. He crooks his finger just right and your thighs tense up around his head as a moan tears through your throat.

Like the sniper that he is, he focuses on that spot within your increasingly soaked cunt as he tortures your clit with his mouth. The slurping sounds have your cheeks heating up and you squirm as he pushes a second finger into you with no resistance. He rubs against that soft spot inside you that causes your body to relax further and pins down your hips when you try to squirm away from his tongue.

“Simon- nngh- that feels so-“ You can barely string together a sentence as he seems intent on rendering you boneless and incapable of speech as he abuses your g-spot. You feel a tightness growing within your abdomen, like something is winding up before it lets go. It barely registers in your brain that you’re on the verge of cumming. Simon must feel it too, with the way your pussy clamps down around his fingers, because he redoubles his efforts. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your pussy pulses without a rhythm and you’re thrown over the edge. The muscles in your thighs clench involuntarily as the pleasure runs through you. He keeps rubbing at that spot through your orgasm, his fingers soaked in your slick as you twitch a little from the aftershocks.

You try to move upwards when he eases a third finger into you but he holds you down. “It’s too much.” You choke out as he crawls up your body, leaving a trail of sticky wet kisses. “Si please.” You hiccup as he begins to work you open with those three fingers.

”Got to work you open love.” He mutters reassuringly before capturing your lips in a kiss. He swallows down your moans like the greedy man he is, keeping all of these sounds for himself. He doesn��t care if the two of you are the only people around for miles upon miles, he doesn’t even want the walls to know your sounds in case they ever learn to talk. You whine at his words and a hand grabs his bicep as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. The stretch of three of his fingers is delicious, just that slight sting that ebbs away the more he finger fucks you.

It feels like he rips the next orgasm out of you, your entire body tenses as it slams into you. You feel yourself gush on his thick fingers and he keeps going, keeps fucking you through it until your pushing at his arm and pleading for a moment of reprieve. It’s only until tears gather in your eyes that he finally stops. Simon peppers your face in kisses while he whispers that he’s sorry. He promises that he’ll do right by you this time, no more running away or disappearing. He swears it as you unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. There’s a noticeable wet patch on his boxers but you don’t comment on it, just pull those down as well. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see his cock.

It's thick, uncut and long. The tip is red from neglect and drips pre-cum like a leaky faucet. His cock is heavy that it hangs low and his brown eyes are filled with lust as he watches you reach down and wrap your hand around his length. “That’s not going to fit.” You finally whisper out, meeting his eyes which crinkle from the cocky smile on his face.

He leans down, body draping over yours. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves as he takes his cock from your hands and lines up the bulbous tip with your cunt. He strokes it a few times with his slick coated fingers as he looks you in the eyes before whispering, “I’ll make it fit.” When he pushes it, he does it slowly. You can feel every ridge, every pulsing vein of his cock against your walls. Despite having stretched you with three of his fingers before hand and making you cum twice the sting remains. It’s a sweet burn, a delicious heat that licks from your hips up to the back of your skull. It grounds you to the moment as his fingers dig into you as his hips meet yours, bottoming out in you he lets out a low moan. His eyes flicker down to where the two of you meet and he licks his lips at the sight.

He pulls back just a little and the squelch that comes from your cunt when he pushes back in makes your face hot. He leans down and grabs your uninjured thigh. He hooks his arm around it and forces it up as he cages your body between his arms. You grab onto his shoulder and bicep, your eyes can’t seem to leave his as he thrusts in and out of you. The pace isn’t fast but his hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin fills the room and mixes with each noise pulled from you. Simon swallows the lump in his throat as he supports himself on one arm and cups your cheek, his thumb swiping something away. You sniffle and reach your hands up to his face, you try to drink his face. The same face you thought you would never see as tears roll down your cheeks and his cock fills you past the point of full.

“I love you.” You say between hiccups and moans. You watch as his eyes water and he buries his face within the crook of your neck. He mouths at the sweaty skin there and whispers that he loves you back. That he loves you so much it hurts and that he’s sorry. He repeats it over and over again with each roll of his hips and that feeling within your stomach grows again quickly. With each snap of his hips you feel yourself getting closer and more tears leak from your eyes. You cum again with his name on your lips and feel his hips stutter and loose pace. He grinds up against you, nudging your cervix in a way that causes a slight pinch within your lower abdomen that makes you clench down harder on him.

You feel him cum, you hear his groan right next to your ear as his hips come to a complete stop and pressed against the meat of your thighs. His sticky warm cum fills you, the feeling is odd. Foreign but not entirely unwelcome as he stays in that position after letting your thigh rest back down onto the mattress. You twist your head to the side and give him a quick kiss, “Say it again?” He whispers.

”I love you.”

Simon lets out a shaky sigh, the relief he feels is palpable, “I love you too.”

It’s not all that surprising that he can’t keep his hands off you and you’re not innocent either. After seemingly fucking all of your anger towards him out, the two of you cling to each other. He rocks his hips into your again, every movement lighting up your nerves in a way that seems never ending. Like this pleasure will swallow you whole but you don’t mind, it hides the twinges of pain from your thigh from being pressed so close to your chest. You kiss all of his face, soft moans from both of you mixing together into a melody.

”How long until someone is able to get us?” You ask later while you lay on his chest and trail your fingers up and down his abdomen. You’re exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open and the heat between the two of you is slowly lulling you further into sleep.

”The radio said they’ll be here tomorrow.” Simon replies and you mindlessly hum.

”What will happen when we leave?” You ask, “When all of this is over.”

”We’ll figure it out.” he murmurs and kisses you. “Rest up love.” You’re not surprised, actually delighted, when he wakes you up with kisses on your neck. He trails down from your jaw, nipping occasionally at the soft flesh which earns a wanton moan from you.

”Happened to resting?” You tease and he chuckles against you.

”Oops.” He says and it would be convincing if you couldn’t feel his smile. Simon’s hands trail down your naked body and he pushes two fingers back into your sopping wet cunt. You gasp and arch your back, eyes fluttering closed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “You’re so wet.” He groans, like he still can’t believe that you still want him. “Never going to let you go again.” He promises as he begins to abuse that soft part inside you.

Simon kisses your nose and you chuckle. “Excited?” You ask and he nods. It’s been two years since that mission when everything changed again. Two years since you found out Simon Riley never died, that he had refused to die once again. It had taken a little while to figure out what the both of you wanted, therapy helped a lot. It helped you realize that the military lifestyle, despite it being the thing you had only known for the past five years, wasn’t truly for you. Of course you had known that you had only joined in Simon’s memory but therapy helped you let go of it.

God bless John Price, bless him for being utterly professional despite two of his soldiers fucking which has to be the most unprofessional thing to do in the military. He looked at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle when you placed the discharge paperwork on his desk that day 8 months ago. “Finally figured out what you want then?” He asked as he immediately signed off on it, not even bothering to read through it.

”Yeah, I have, Captain.” You said with a fond smile, you’d miss this. You’d miss him, Gaz and Soap but it wasn’t like they couldn’t come and see you when on leave. You’d only be an hour away in a nearby city anyways. You glance at the two keys in your hand, one for you and one for Simon. You place the second one into his palm. “Let’s go see our home then.” You pick up the cat carrier and Mittens meows in protest. You coo your reassurances to her, promising that it’s almost over. The three of you climb the steps up the porch of the townhouse you now own and Simon unlocks the door.

You glance around the currently empty space then glance behind you to the moving truck parked out on the side of the street. “I think it might take us a day to get everything in here.” You say when you turn to look at Simon

”I’d say two.” Simon says as he takes the cat carrier from your hands and sets it down next to the stairs. You quirk an eyebrow up and part your lips in an ‘o’ shape when you realize what’s on his mind.

”Really Riley?” You ask as you loop your arms around his neck and he chuckles as your expression.

”I’ve always wanted to bend you over a countertop.” He purrs as he tugs his mask down and plants a kiss on your neck which sends shivers down your spine.

”Is that so?” You ask as he backs you up against it after closing the front door. He hoists you up on top of it with a ‘mhm’ before he captures your lips in a kiss and his hands settle on your hips.

You grasp at the edge of the counter, moans being punched out of you with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the house and mixes with his groans. Simon’s fingers dig a little harder into your hips, enjoying the sight of how your fat squishes up between his fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ stunning.” And all you can respond with is a moan as his fat cock abuses the tip of your cervix. “I’m gonna retire.” He babbles and his words hardly register in your mind as you begin to clench down on him as a sign you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. He loops a hand around and rubs mean circles around your clit which sends you falling off the edge.

He swears as your cunt clenches down on him like a vice and he spills himself in you all while he keeps rubbing at your clit. You lay there panting, trying to gather your senses as you blink away the tears of overstimulation once his hand falls away. You gasp and gulp down the air, “Simon?”

”Fuck I said that out loud didn’t I?”

You can’t help but giggle and shake your head. “You mean it?”

”Yeah, I mean it. I’m gonna look into retiring, I can’t be a soldier forever.” He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as he speaks.

”I love you so much Simon Riley.”

His hand reaches out and loops through yours, the matching rings on your fingers glinting in the light. “I love you too.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #mw2 smut #ghost smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader smut #simon x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good” Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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beastofburdenxo · 2 months

Text

Consider It Done

Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.

Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.

You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.

You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."

Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."

"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."

"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."

"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."

You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"

Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."

You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."

Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"

"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."

"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."

You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"

Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."

Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"

"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."

You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.

"Consider it done."

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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stevebabey · 1 year

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ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

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theplumsoldier · 1 year

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summary: bits of love, domestic shit, sex and angst💗

warnings: vulgar language, smut, breeding kink, lil angst, fluff

a/n: i have been super busy with exams DD;

It had taken a lot getting used to, not constantly having to look over one's shoulder. Months had passed and you had found yourself quite enjoying the life you had made here.

It was safe to say you had made the adjustment quicker than Joel had. He was... Well, he was trying. At least, that's what you had convinced yourself.

Ellie screamed in rage, slamming the door to her room shut, undoubtedly right in Joel's face.

You moved in the couch so that you could watch him as he came down the stairs, his footsteps heavy on the wood.

When he noticed he had your attention, the small sympathetic smile on your lips, he threw up his hands in surrender.

You waited for him to sit down and only when he had done so, he let out a deep sigh of exasperation.

"Baby," hummed you, schooching closer to him, starting twirling som of his hair. "Don't you think you're being a little too harsh on her?"

"I don't want her running around this late," was all he responded his eyes fastened on the ceiling as he leaned into your touch.

"This is normal, right? She's a teenager."

"Nothin' 'bout this is normal."

A sigh escaped you, but instead of retreating, you moved sit straddle his lap, a sad look glistening in your eyes.

"Joel, babe, do you feel safe?"

He gave you a dumbfounded look, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Here, I mean. In Jackson."

He shrugged, "sure." His large hands cupped your ass cheeks and he inhaled deeply, shifting slightly beneath you.

You couldn't help but chuckle at him, knowing even in stressed situations he was completely under your spell.

"Joel, baby, this is the only chance Ellie's ever had to be normal. And I know you've been through a lot, but you can let your guard down here, you know that? There's no need to keep looking over your shoulder."

All Joel did was sigh, his rough hands still on your ass.

"We could be one big family here--"

"Hon, we've talked about this..."

"I know, I know... it's just... I feel like a lot has changed now. Ellie's in school, she's got a lot of friends, with Tommy and Maria's little girl... I just--it feels right."

A defeated look grazed his features, teeth sucking on his bottom lip. You were right. It was something he had gone over many times in his head, never stumbling upon a "let's do it" himself, although never finding a definite "no" either. It made sense.

For the first time in decades he did not constantly look over his shoulder (although every now and then he got these panicky flashes of what would happen when he let his guard down) and Ellie seemed to have a good time in here Jackson. He was getting older by the day and knowing from day one you had always wanted kids, he felt in no position to deny you that. He had once let you know how he thought you could do much better, and although you had told him he needed to feel more comfortable about who he was, he was still certain guys would line up to father your babies.

Also, it was something he really did want. Joel had always been a family-oriented man and the thought of creating one with you made his heart flutter. To begin with he blamed it on his own poor health, but it was no longer something he could deny. He loved you too damn much.

"If we're doin' this we're startin' right now," he finally hummed, his large hands squeezing your ass.

Your brows bounced in surprise, not having expected him to make a decision straight away. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt, worried you had rushed his decision. Knowing where he came from the last thing you wanted was to pressure him.

As if reading your thoughts, Joel cupped your face. "I'm sure, baby. Let's do this."

Giving you no time to protest Joel captured your lips in a hot kiss as he cradled you in his arms. Wanting to make him feel good, you reached down to unbuckle his belt, but he made a movement to stand up, holding you even tighter before he slammed you back down on the couch.

"Lemme take care of you, doll."

You were surprised by how quickly his mien turned into lustful, but you could not help but indulge in this feeling of being desperately wanted.

His heavy scent enveloping you in a bubble of need, his harsh touch ensuring your safety. It was all too much for you to not lay back at his command and let him do whatever he pleased.

Joel lifted up you shirt, so that he could place soft kisses that becoming open-mouthed and more testing they further down he got. With your eyes closed, you arched your back into the old cushions, releasing a soft hum when you suddenly shut up with your eyes open.

"Ellie, Joel!"

Peeking up at you, his brows heaved questioningly as his eyes shifted between you and the stairs. He knew what you were getting at, but he was not worried. Confident Ellie would either go to sleep or at least take some time to cool down, he proceeded to pull at your shorts.

"You'll jus' 'ave to be quiet for me then, won't ya?"

The stubble on his cheeks tickled your thighs but when you squirmed in protest, his hands held you in your place.

Even if Ellie did come out from her room, the wooden home and creaky floors would give her away, leaving a minimum of 7 seconds to get decent before she could find you. Joel had already gone over it in his head, many times before this, too, always making sure to never be caught from an awkward angle.

"Can you do tha' for me, baby girl?"

And all it took was that soft inquiry to convince you he had it all under control. When he hooked a finger through your panties, pulling them down, you shuddered as the cool air grazed your pussy. It seemed you were never not wet around Joel.

Suddenly, when you had only nodded and leaned back to get comfortable, Joel placed a slap on your cheek before bringing his hand to your jaw.

"Words, baby."

Taken by surprise, your mouth was slightly agape, to which he could not resist but pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. The look in his eyes made you writhe under him, wanting him to take that animalistic hunger out on you right then and there.

"Yes, Joel," whined you, biting out for his thumb when he chuckled. He absolutely loved it when he could feel, see, smell how eager you were for him.

Joel wasted no time going down on you, his tongue skillfully locating your clit, his hands lifting your thighs over his shoulders when he got comfortable, wearing you like earmuffs.

Your favorite look. His favorite place.

. . .

You had accidentally torn your underwear on the washboard, trying to get the blood out of the material. You knew to be more careful with old pieces as they were prone to shred when handled without care, but you couldn't help but take the frustration out on them when you got your period. You were well aware it was indeed possibly to menstruate when pregnant, however a concoction of sadness and anger simply took over you when you noticed the blood in your panties, having gotten your hopes up a little too much when your period had been late a week ago.

Upon throwing them out, you returned to bed. As it was early morning, Joel was still asleep so you got under the covers and spooned him up, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

The same minute he moaned and pulled your arm over his body, forcing you to hug him even tighter. It was things like this that made you absolutely melt. His bodily love language was beyond anything you had ever experienced.

"C'mere," moaned Joel as he snuggled deeper into your embrace.

Very subtly he guided your hand down to his hard cock, making you chuckle despite having just been on the verge of breaking down because you feared you were unable to get pregnant.

. . .

The Tipsy Bison was a truly magical place. Regardless of people's alcohol consumption it seemed everyone forgot their worries, their fears and the hardship they had endured to get here, and were enjoying themselves same way they used to before the apocalypse.

Ellie was sat in one end of the bar, playing a game of Battleship with Maria and the baby, and Joel were throwing darts with Tommy and some of his friends, a big grin on his face and an even bigger beer in his hand.

You adored the way his eyes would shine when he smiled, really smiled. The glimpse was like a little shooting star in his hazelnut galaxy, striking and breathtaking even from across the room. When he came to look at you, even more so. You gave him a little wave and blew him a kiss.

Then Joel looked back and decided no one would miss him, not when he noticed that love-drunk look in your eyes.

It was incredible how salient the beer smelled on him, knowing he had not been drinking that much. Perhaps it was simply because you were staying away from it all, hopes of bearing his child still laying dormant in the back of your mind. Instead you got drunk off of his lips, his tongue and his skin.

He had held out his hand for you, saying "let's go home" with a sly smirk on his lips. You chuckled and nodded towards Ellie, reminding him that they shouldn't go without her and if they did drag her back home with them, they would have to wait for her to be asleep to do whatever it was Joel's lewd eyes suggested.

Grabbing on to your waist, Joel closed the gap between you, murmuring seductively, "oh hon, I could take you right 'ere over this table if you let me."

The mix of alcohol and desire gave his voice a double coating of accent, that Texan drawl spelling nothing but trouble.

"Ten minutes, no longer." You latched onto his broad arm and pulled him with you.

Hissing, his eyes watched your ass swaying while following closely, "shit, woman, no less I hope."

. . .

Joel wasted no time showering you in beer-stained kisses and declarations of love, working his way down till he moaned into your pussy, drinking himself completely gone in your juices.

Shifting between suckling on your clit and lapping at your hole like a thirsty dog, Joel brought you to a body quaking orgasm before he replaced his fingers with his cock.

Clawing at his ass, you pushed him as deep as possible, crying at the sensation of feeling so filled. It started out as a joke, slapping his ass the same way he would do to you, but you found that during sex, he emitted filthy groans whenever you would grope as his cheeks, especially when it was to feel him to the fullest.

"Gonna fill ya up so good, baby. Make you scream till I know you're full with my kids," moaned he between kisses, feeling your pussy squeeze him once before he set a steady pace, moving inside you to feel each crevice and hear each he elicited, only the pornographic sound of your cunt accompanying the heavy moans and groans in the room.

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller #theplumsoldier #the last of us smut #the last of us

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epicrainbowsheep · 10 months

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It's all in the hip position

Not really following the Stranger Things timeline, been a very long time since I’ve written fanfic, especially smut, the inspiration for this comes from years of reading fan fiction with the guys always having massive cocks, we need a variety people and I'm here to deliver! This is modelled after my partner, so I know what I'm writing about from experience but that is hard to put into words.

Warning this is smut

Enjoy average-sized dick Billy

Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

The bell rang for lunch as the cafeteria of Hawkins High filled with teenagers, different conversations were happening all at once, about what they got up to over the weekend and whose party were you at; but one in particular managed to prick the ears of Billy Hargrove the most, coming from the table of girls behind him.

“Oh come on the guy had a massive dick right?!” Leah responded slamming her hands on the table in front of you, “Well yeah but he didn’t even know how to use it! Like seriously the sex was so awkward and really bumpy” rolling your eyes as you ate your lunch. “Really? Guys with massive dicks are normally meant to be amazing at sex, like bigger stretch and hits the G-spot easier” Bianca said adding to Leah’s comment, “I don’t know maybe but I can say Mathew has every right to say he’s got a big dick but I’m doubting bigger is always better” you sighed.

A hearty male laugh came from behind you, the tone already indicating who it was. “Having fun laughing at me Billy” you said turning around with a very not amused face. “Sorry couldn’t hold it in (Y/N), I could have saved you the bad lay last Saturday, thought you guys were just sucking face at Tommy’s party” Billy wiped tears from the corners of his eyes “But definitely did make my day better”.

His words made you more confused, your other friends pretending to talk as you turned your full attention to him “What do you mean you could have ‘saved me’?” wanting to know what he’d say you leaned in closer, as he did the same he said in a low voice “Last girl I slept with said that I was the best sex she’s ever had, that was Mathew’s ex, said he was a lousy lay” he winked and sat back up, making you feel the red in your face.

“Seriously? She always used to boast about how good he was!” You were baffled, he chuckled “Of course doll, they were dating then” he moved over to sit next to you stealing some of your food as his leg touched yours, “Wait Betty said that! You’ve gotta be lying” Leah enquired to Billy, who helped himself you your food again.

“Swear on my reputation sweetheart” he leaned in making sure to look her directly in the eyes “And I can say if you keep after that Munson fella* you won’t be disappointed”, she looked shocked “How did you-“ Bianca’s laugh cuts her off, as you continued “Anyone can tell from a mile away Lee trust me” smiling at her she turned red, looking away from everyone at the table, the bell began to ring as you all got up and went your own ways.

“From what I hear you’re pretty average in size, what makes you better anyways?” you teased as your friends walked in the opposite direction, your words made him smirk as you both walked towards the door he stops, leaning in to whisper in your ear “It isn’t the size darling, it’s all in the hip positions, more than happy to show you” He blew cool air down your neck, making you shiver and breathless, not knowing what to respond with, Billy just laughed again and walked away.

‘Bloody hell he’s smooth’ you thought, as you finally managed to walk away.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

School flies by and it’s the weekend in no time, you’ve been having trouble all week trying to get Billy and his words out of your head. “He can’t be as good as he’s saying right?” you say to no one as you get ready for a party at Tina’s. The blasting of a horn from outside snaps you back into reality, managing to fix up the last of your make-up, making sure to lock the house on the way. Steve’s waved from the car and opened the door from the inside, you slid in and closed the door. “So ready to graduate,” Steve said as he began to drive, “Couldn’t agree more dude! Hawkins is a shit hole” you responded “Robin meeting us there?” “Yeah said she had her own ride or something”.

Rest of the ride was filled with the radio and talk with Steve until you arrived, “You need a lift back or fending for yourself, cause I’m bailing if I see Nancy making out with Johnathan” he said as you both entered the house “Fair dude and I should be right, there is always someone to catch a ride with, make sure to forget about her dude she’s 100% moved on” you gave him a sad smile “Want a drink?” you said while walking towards the kitchen, “Nah I’ll try and find Robin first, catch up with you after though” “Okay sounds good!” giving the thumbs up you walked away.

The next few hours became a blur of shots and beer bong, definitely feeling the buzz now, hearing the cheers from outside, around the keg stand people were cheering and shouting as Billy managed to beat his own time, his eyes managed to catch yours, smirking he stalked towards you and leaned on the wall next to you.

“Managed to catch all that doll?” leaning in even closer to your face, “Definitely impressive buuutt” you leaned into his ear, the alcohol giving you a confidence boost, “I think you have something else your wayyyy better at that you need to ‘show’ me still” adding the air quotes with your smirk, Billy even cockier now than before, grabbed your waist and pulled you to his chest and smashed his lips to yours. His lips felt slightly chapped and warm, with his intense cologne flying up your nostrils.

“How ‘bout we get out of here doll” he growled and pulled you by the hand, leading you out of the house. “Let’s head to my place, my parents aren’t home” you said as you both shut the doors of his Camaro.

“Just show me the way babe” he said as he sped off down the road.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You both stumbled into your room, hands were roaming over each other’s bodies. His hands grab your waist and throw you onto the bed, the suddenness leaves you stunned for a second before he’s crawling towards you with the look of lust in his eyes. “Baby I’ve had my eye on you for a while” one of his arms supports his weight near your head, while his other hand trails up your thigh, going underneath your shirt to grab your clothed breast. He kisses you as you moan at his actions.

He kisses down your neck, grabs the bottom of your shirt and you help him pull it over your head, before resuming the kissing, it turns intense as he slots his clothed crotch against you. Teeth and tongue get smashed into each other as you both sloppily make out, your hands let go of his white shirt and scratch down his back as he moved against you, both in a sea of bliss as each last item of clothing is removed.

You both pull away looking at each other, your body glowed under the moonlight coming from the window, Billy couldn’t stop staring at how the curves of your body complemented each other as he slid his hands from your thighs, squeezing the thickness along the way to your stomach, his mouth kissed all the way up, starting from just under your belly button, all the way up between the valley of your breasts.

His right hand makes its way between your folds, your wetness making sounds as he slides his fingers against you, slightly touching your clit “Fuck babe your nice and wet” you moan out for him as his fingers slide into you, slowly pumping in and out. Your hands grab his jaw and bring his lips to yours, his fingers start to pick up the pace as he hears your moans pick up, “Billy I’m so close! Please don’t stop!” his hands

His head hovers above you, he hazily looks into your eyes, realising your eyes were stuck in one position. “Babe what are you-“ his eyes move down to what your staring at, he huffs. “(Y/N) get out what your thinking now before we get any further” “Is it average?” the look on her face is completely genuine.

Silence follows before Billy laughs hard, “Fuck (Y/N) seriously I’ve got tears in my eyes” he kneels up resting against his legs he grabs his cock, sliding a condom along his length, spreading his knees wide, leaning back his other hand sliding against his thigh, your ogling at him, your eyes follow the shadows against his body that the moonlight creates, to his smug look, then to his hard, throbbing cock.

“Baby you’re looking at the most average cock, size is 5.6 inches if you must know” He slowly starts crawling up towards to again, caging you in, lowers his mouth to your ear and huskily says “Will be the thing that makes you cum the hardest” he slides his cock into you, your walls stretching around his cock.

Both of you moan when he is fully inside you, he looks into your eyes silently asking if you’re ready, you nod and he starts slowly thrusting into you. He slowly picks up the pace, grabbing your legs and putting them over your shoulders and angles his hips down, reaching places you’ve never felt were possible.

“Fuck Billyyy!” you moaned out, your head tilting backwards as he pounds into you. “Baby your pussy is squeezing me so tightly” he groans in response to your consistent moans, you’ve never heard a man so vocal in bed, he keeps chanting out your name.

“Doll you’re such a good girl taking my dick so well” he straightens his back and manhandles your legs so your feet are up by his head, the new angle allowing him to roll his hips in a new way that made you cum instantly “BILLY! You’re fucking me so good” you feel drool sliding out your mouth as you feel another orgasm coming on.

His hips piston into you as he chases after his own release, “Baby I feel another one in you, I’m so close” he groans out as he slams his hips deep into you for the final time as you scream out his name in pure bliss.

He rests your legs down on the bed and flops beside you, he’s a sight to behold, chest gleaming from the sweat, the light bouncing off his body, used condom still on his half-hardened dick, you’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. He smirks at you, pulling you into his chest by your waist, “You checking me out (Y/N)?” looking up into his eyes, they sparkle with mischief.

“So what of it?” you say back as you snuggle into his warm body, he chuckles to himself. You both lay there in silence, enjoying the afterglow of sex. You break the silence “Don’t get an ego but your right” he looks at you his faced first puzzled then the realisation hits him, the sex made him momentarily forget, pulling a shit-eating grin onto his face.

“Told you size doesn’t matter” his head hits the pillow again and he closes his eyes, “What’s your secret anyways, that was the best sex I’ve had in a while”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yeah”

“It’s all in the hip positions sweetheart”

#billy stranger things #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fandom #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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andreafmn · 5 months

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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 3

Word Count: 4.0K Paring: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Prompt @12-days-of-ficmas: anonymous donor pays for the kids at your nonprofit to have a perfect Christmas. Wait, this handwriting looks familiar Warnings: mature language

Summary: For a little over half a decade, (Y/N) has run the Angel's Touch Foundation caring for children in need from all over Small Heath. But times are hard and money is tight, and all she wants is to give the children of her foundation the best Christmas. And an anonymous letter might just have all the answers she has been searching for.

A/N: goodness, I love angst a little too much. I think y'all might need to prepare for a christmas filled with just a tad of sad 🫣🫣

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Life in Small Heath had never been easy. Life in England had not been easy in general. At least not for the everyday man, much less for their children.

(Y/N) had dedicated her life to making sure no child went hungry in her town. With what little money her family had left her, she had started a foundation in their name to do just that. For a little over half a decade, the woman had seen to it that no child went hungry or homeless, especially during the holidays.

It had been hard to keep Angel’s Touch afloat for years. Keeping the foundation running smoothly required more money than was flowing in most of the time, but she somehow always pulled it off. She didn’t care if she went hungry herself for a couple of days or if she lived in the smallest apartment she could afford. All she wanted was to make sure no child went through the hardships that had been bestowed upon them with no fault to them. As hard as it was. She pulled through every year, and she would continue to do so for as long as she could.

That particular year had been particularly difficult, with their government funding being cut in almost half, a slow influx of donations, and the amounts of intakes growing (Y/N) didn’t know how they had even made it to December without more struggles.

“I don’t know how we’re gonna give the kids a good Christmas celebration this year, Margaret,” she sighed as she sat on her desk chair. “We’re barely making it as it is, and I don’t even know where we’ll get the necessary funding for next year.”

“Well, we could always ask…”

“So help me, Margaret, if you say what I think you’re gonna say, I’ll fire you right now,” (Y/N) warned. “I don’t care that you’re my closest friend and one of the only reasons I’m still standing.”

“I’m just saying, love. He could help,” Margaret shrugged as she placed a cup of tea before the woman. “But I understand why you don’t want to call him. We could try the church again. Grovel to the Father for some more donations. At least enough to give the kids a Christmas dinner.”

“Yeah,” she responded, ignoring the fact that her friend had tried to bring up the one man she had wanted nothing more than to forget. “I’ll try to call some family friends or try to kiss up to politicians and remind them or their re-elections. Maybe see if my brother has any money to spare. I just need to find someone with big and loose pockets for this month. Then, we can worry about next year.”

“You’ll find a way,” Margaret said with a comforting smile. “Somehow, you always do.”

“Just one year,” she begged. “All I want is for one year to go smoothly.”

“Oh, darling, we didn’t get into this business because it was easy,” the woman reminded her. “We do it so the children don’t suffer under someone else.”

“Right,” (Y/N) smiled. “For the children.”

“We’ll make it through, darling. Don’t worry your pretty little face.”

It was easier said than done, that much (Y/N) knew. She made more phone calls than she had ever done in her lifetime, trying her best to reach everyone and anyone who would listen. As Christmas day approached, she felt her time running short. Money poured in slowly, and it was spent twice as fast. At the rate they were going, it would have surprised her if all they could give the kids was a hot mutton stew.

But what (Y/N) didn’t know was that a higher power was in play. Something and someone she had no control over.

A week before Christmas, after receiving another shipment of donations of basic necessities, two of the children she housed ran after her down the halls. “Ms. (Y/N)!” they yelled as they ran. “Ms. (Y/N)!”

“Woah, Helen, William, slow down,” she chuckled softly. “You know there’s no running in the halls.”

“We’re sorry, Ms. (Y/N),” Helen smiled angelically. “But there was a postie outside. Left a package for you.”

“Yeah, he said it was urgent.”

The boy extended a pristine envelope sealed with the crest of England. “Alright, thank you, kids,” she smiled “Now, go on, darlings. Go get some lunch.”

Once the children were out of sight, (Y/N) hurried to her office. The envelope didn’t say who it was from, but her name was written on it in the most beautiful calligraphy she had ever seen. Inside the room, she put aside the box she was carrying and sat quickly by her desk to see what inside the letter was so urgent.

“Slow down, woman,” Margaret chuckled as the woman pushed her aside. “What do you have there?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Helen and William gave it to me. Said a letter man had dropped it off, and it was urgent.”

“Looks quite official, doesn’t it? Does it say who it's from?”

“No. It only has my name.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Margaret smiled. “Open it already.”

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled as she pulled out her letter opener. The wax came off the paper easily and, inside, (Y/N) found two pieces of paper. But it was the one in front that caught her attention. “Oh, fuck.”

“(Y/N), such foul language,” Margaret laughed. “What is it?”

“Someone has donated sixty thousand pounds to the foundation,” she choked out. “Do you know what this means, Margaret?”

“Oh, fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly,” she laughed. “We are more than set for Christmas, Margaret. And not just the holidays. We’re set for next year!”

“Happy fucking Christmas,” the woman exclaimed. “Does it say who it’s from? We need to do something to honor whoever it was that decided to answer our prayers.”

“Uh,” she stammered as she looked for a name. “It doesn’t say.”

“Anonymous donor? I mean, people do get rather generous during the holidays.”

“Yeah, I just wish we could thank whoever it was,” (Y/N) said. “But, we have enough planning to do now. Christmas is in a week!”

“Don’t you worry, darling,” Margaret smiled. “Everything will be perfect.”

As her friend set off to work, making phone calls and ensuring deliveries, (Y/N) looked over the second paper in the envelope. There wasn’t a name there either, but she recognized the lettering far too perfectly. In a handwriting that she wished she had forgotten the words: Happy Christmas to you and the children.

At that moment, she wanted to break down. It had been years since she had spoken to him, much less heard a word from him. Yet, somehow, when she needed him most, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. In a simple cheque, he had been able to resolve her biggest worry. All it took was the stroke of a pen, and all her problems had disappeared. It was just so easy for him.

But she couldn’t come undone. Not when there was so much to be done.

In the blink of an eye, seven days had passed, and the Angel’s Touch Foundation was preparing for a feast. Every single one of the kids had received their fair share of toys, clothes, and anything else they might have wanted. It was truly something out of a fairytale.

Their entire home had been decorated from top to bottom for the holidays. It made the children very excited to see the place filled with Christmas lights and decorations, and many a kid stopped to gawk at the massive tree that had been propped up at the foundation’s lobby. Everything was beautiful and perfect.

(Y/N)’s mind should have been focused on the kids and their happy faces. She should have been zoned into their reactions when they got to open presents that morning or their surprise when they were told what they’d be having for dinner. That’s what should have been running through her head.

Yet, since she had received that letter, only one thing lived in her mind. His name and his face swirled around in her brain like it was the only thought that mattered. It consumed her every waking moment and filled her dreams with images of him. She had done so well to avoid him for years, and with just a few words, he was all she could think about.

After dinner, while the kids all played and laughed a floor below, she found herself inspecting the piece of paper that had started her spiral. Maybe the longer she looked at it, something would happen. Maybe it would make him walk through the doors…

“Darling, you can’t spend the rest of the night locked up in here,” Margaret said as she walked in with two glasses of whiskey. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“I am,” she smiled softly. “I just… it’s this letter. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“There’s no point to dwell on it, dear. There’s no name.”

“I know who sent it.”

“What?” Margaret gasped. “So, there was a name?”

“No,” (Y/N) chuckled dryly. “I recognized the handwriting. Instantly, actually. And I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?” the woman inquired. “It was Thomas.”

“It was,” she sighed. “I just don't understand how he could have known. I haven’t seen him in years, and then he shows up out of the blue with this letter.”

“Darling, Small Heath is big but not big enough,” her friend mused. “Why don’t you go see him? It’s been long enough, don’t you think?”

“And say what, Margaret? That I ran away from our home, and he’s somehow still saving me? I… I can’t go see him.”

“But you want to,” she said. “And you know where he lives. Everyone does. So, just go to him.”

“He’ll turn me away.”

“It’s Christmas,” Margaret smiled. “He won’t turn you away on Christmas. Now, there’s a car waiting for you downstairs. So, go, love. Stop waiting around.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what had possessed her, but her legs moved faster than her brain could think. And before she knew it, she was in the black car headed toward Arrow House. She could have told the driver to turn back around at any second, proclaimed she had lost her mind, and the best thing she could do was sleep off the madness. But the car kept moving, and the distance became bigger. Then, the grandiose house was looking down on her, beaconing her closer and closer. Once she was out of the car, her decision was made for her. The only way was onward.

She knocked on the front doors, thinking there couldn’t possibly be anyone up at that hour. One second more, and she would have walked herself back home. Yet, the door opened wide, and an older woman opened the door. “Hello,” she smiled. “May I help you, dear?”

“Oh, um, perhaps you could,” (Y/N) stammered. “I was looking for Mr. Shelby.”

“Of course,” the woman said. “Come in. He’s just in his study.”

“This late into the night?” she questioned as she followed the woman inside. “I thought perhaps he would have already gone to bed.”

“Mr. Shelby keeps odd hours,” she explained. “But I think you knew that if you yourself are coming at this hour.”

“Right,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I guess if he had been asleep, I could have used that as an excuse to leave.”

“He was expecting you earlier in the week, Ms. (Y/L/N). But I guess you were quite busy with Angel’s Touch.”

The woman’s words stopped her in her tracks. “You know who I am?” she asked. “And you knew I’d be coming?”

“Of course, I know who you are. It’s my job to know,” she smiled. “Well, we’re here.” She knocked on the door before them and opened it ever so softly. “Mr. Shelby?”

“Yes, Frances?”

“Ms. (Y/L/N) has arrived.” Frances beckoned the woman inside, and she did as told. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

(Y/N) heard his voice before she saw him, and she felt shivers running down her body. His head snapped toward her the second he heard her name, and the cigarette he had just lit threatened to fall out of his mouth as he stared.

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, wondering if the image before them was a hallucination like the ones they’d had before. Maybe they were scared. Maune they thought the second one of them moved, the other would disappear.

“(Y/N).” Tommy was the first to speak. But his voice was so low it was almost as though he hadn’t, almost like he had said it as a prayer. “You’re here.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart fluttering against her chest and threatening to jump outside of her body. “I came to thank you for your very generous donation.”

“Ah, so Angel’s Touch is yours,” he said nonchalantly as his demeanor changed to the mask he always wore. “I was simply trying to do a good deed this Christmas. The name of the foundation sounded familiar, but I had no way of knowing you were the one running it.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Tommy. You already knew it was,” (Y/N) commented as she took a tentative step toward him. “Why now? After all these years, why have you reached out now?”

“I have no need to pretend,” he announced as he filled a glass with whiskey. “I was truly just doing a good thing.”

“Right,” she conceded. “Well, I’ll simply thank you then. And since you did not leave a return address I had to come personally to give my gratitude. Your donation has changed the lives of many children.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted.”

“Alright then. I guess I’ll see myself out. Since you were only doing a generous thing.” (Y/N) turned, fully determined to walk out the doors and leave him with the same indifference with which he was treating her. But she couldn’t walk away. Not again. “Oh, cut the fucking bullshit, Tommy, and give me a real answer. Why now? I can only assume you’ve always known where I was. So, why did you reach out now?”

Tommy’s eyes found hers, and she swore she could have died at that very moment. She was sure in the infinite blue of his eyes, she could see the love he used to have for her, the love that had died after he had come home from the war. “I reached out because I heard you were in need of donations. Truly,” he explained. “I was going to hand deliver the cheque myself. Even went by the building.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“But I saw you, (Y/N). And I realized there was still so much anger and resentment buried that I decided to send it through the post. Because regardless of how I feel, those children deserve a better life than they were given,” he said defeatedly. His shoulders had fallen and she was starting to see the broken man behind the mask. “Yet, I still wrote that note, and I knew it would bring you around sooner or later.”

“For what, Tommy? Why did you want me to come here?”

“Because I need a fucking explanation!” the man exclaimed, slamming his hands on his desk. “You fucking disappeared as soon as I came home from the war. In the middle of the night. You took your things, and you fucking left. Like I meant nothing to you. And you have the gall to stay in Small Heath. Hidden, but still there. Why, (Y/N)? ‘Cause it wasn’t just me you left. You left the entire family.”

“You’re joking, right? You truly have no idea why I left?” As she was met with silence, (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh. She crossed the room as she did, staring out the window because it was easier than looking him in the face. “You were a completely different man when you came home. At first, I told myself it was normal. That the things you had seen in the battlefield would have haunted you ‘til the day you died. But then, there were things that could not be attributed to the war.

I know you used the opium to help with your Shell Shock, and I tried. I tried to be okay with it because I truly believed you needed it, Tommy. But you’d be worse after. The nightmares still overtook you and your behavior… well, long gone was the man that used to make me laugh,” she sighed, wrapping her arms across her chest. “And, up to that point, I would have put up with it all because I loved you more than I loved myself. But then, you brought women into our bed. Maybe you thought I hadn’t noticed, or you believed I would keep my mouth shut and let you do as you pleased. Maybe I did wrong by you for allowing things to get to that. Still, I had not expected you to ever raise your hand at me, Tommy.”

“(Y/N),” she heard him call.

“I can understand that you were drunk. Pissed out of your mind with the whiskey and the drugs. But I had told you how my father had treated my mother, and you had promised that you would never stoop that low.” She could feel the tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks in ugly black streaks. “That was the night I decided I would leave because I could not live in a house with a man I was afraid of. I told Polly what my plans were, and she helped me. She gave me enough money to go back to my brother’s, and she promised to keep my secret. I don’t want to think of what would have happened if I had stayed.”

“You know I would have never hurt you, (Y/N).” She could tell his voice was closer but cautious. It was the first time they had spoken, the first time they had gotten answers, and he was not about to lose his chance to understand it all. “I must admit, the man that came back from the war was not the man that left for it. I don’t think such a man even exists. But I would have never hurt you.”

��How can you be so sure, Tommy? You swore that you would have never raised your hand at me, and you did. How far could a strike be? Or perhaps a push or a shove? That’s how it starts,” she shrugged sadly. “If I had stayed… I couldn’t have stayed. It would have ruined us both. I mean, look how well you’ve done for yourself. This house, your business, I’d say everything worked out well for you.”

“It didn’t,” he sighed, stepping even closer. She could feel his presence behind her, looming over her. She could feel the warmth from his body even as the cold from the winter seeped in through the window. “There’s always been something missing.”

“I heard you got married,” she said. “Even got a little boy. I’d say that’s more than enough.”

“My wife is dead. And though, yes, I still have my child, you know what I’ve been missing.”

“You loved her,” she continued. “If love was what you were missing, you had it.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it, (Y/N).”

“You gave your heart to another. That’s what I know.”

“How could I ever give something that wasn’t there anymore? Something that was taken many years before.” Tommy’s chest was pressed against her back, rising and falling at a dangerous pace. His hands ran up her arms, his touch so soft she thought it was a ghost. But he was there. She could feel his breathing on her neck, feel his heartbeat through his chest. Tommy was there, and she could not deny it. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). The last thing I ever wanted was to lose you.”

“I didn’t want to go, Tommy. You have to believe that,” she sighed as she leaned into his touch. “I didn’t want to, but I had to.”

“I know, but you’re here now. You’ve come back to me,” he whispered in her ear. “Please tell me you’ve come back to me.”

“I can’t go through that again, Tommy. The children at the foundation depend on me, the workers… I cannot go back to the woman I was. I lost myself in you, Thomas Shelby. And if I did that again, I don’t know how I could survive.”

Tommy kissed her neck unexpectedly, savoring her skin as he had done many years before. He breathed her in and sank into the familiarity of her body. He remembered her softness and her warmth, he remembered every curve of her body and the way it would react. He remembered how it had felt to have her belong to him.

But (Y/N) also remembered how lost she had been without him at the start. Being with him meant losing a part of herself. It meant she would no longer be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She would be Tommy Shelby’s girl. And she didn’t know if she could go back to that. Not when she had done so much to be the woman she was.

Yet, the feeling of his lips on her reminded her of the moments they had been happy. They had been young and in love, and even if they had less, they felt the richest they could have been. His hands reminded her of a time when she had not been afraid of him, when his touch was a welcomed solace and not a dark premonition. It all reminded her of the life they believed they could’ve had.

“Tommy,” she whispered as his kisses became feverish. “Tommy, wait.”

“What?” he groaned. “We’ve waited long enough.”

“If we were to do this, if we were to be in each other’s lives, we need to take things slow,” she said. “I cannot jump into these waters headfirst. I need time.”

“Time,” he chuckled softly. “Time is something we’ve had so much of.”

“And I need more of, Tommy. Please.”

“Alright,” Tommy conceded. And though he wanted to be more annoyed, all he could feel was compassion. “At least stay the night. It’s late, and it’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be out on the road.”

“If this is another ploy to get me into your bed, Mr. Shelby,” she chuckled, turning to look him in the eyes finally. Those icy blue eyes that had always haunted her.

“It’s not,” he smiled. “I can have an entire room set up for you if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“It takes trust, doesn’t it? And it’s already a cold night, I wouldn’t want to freeze until morning.”

With a warm smile on his face, one he hadn’t remembered he could muster, he took (Y/N) in his arms. “Happy Christmas, (Y/N),” he said. “I do hope it was a good one.”

“Well, I certainly haven’t had better in a while,” she chuckled. “But I know it’s the best one Angel’s Touch has seen.”

“The best one yet.”

“Right,” (Y/N) said. “I guess all we needed was a true angel’s touch.”

“I’m no angel, darling. I’m more of a god.”

“I can see the sense of grandeur hasn’t died down,” she chuckled as she leaned into his touch. They walked through the quiet house in each other’s arms, forgetting the past years, forgetting their absence in each other’s lives. They were simply present at that moment, and that moment only. “But I don’t think there’s anything I could do to thank you for what you’ve done.”

“Well, there are a few things I have in mind.”

“Very cheeky, Mr. Shelby,” she grinned. “But that’s not happening any time soon.”

“A man can only hope,” he laughed. “But I’ll take what I can get. As long as you promise you’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I promise, Tommy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Next ->

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kissitbttr · 2 years

Text

bottled up

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie wishes you could see yourself the way he sees you

a/n: inspired by @florestmoon ‘s more than enough fic🫶🏻💓 i love it sm, win a date with tad hamilton and that one cassie scene from euphoria. this is not proofread teehee

—

the first time eddie laid his eyes on you, he was whipped. and there’s no turning back

you’re hawkin’s high favorite girl. with a smile that make people fall to their knees, a touch to ease someone’s pain, and a voice so angelic it would put all angels up above to shame. nothing a guy wouldn’t do just to be with you and it has been proven by several boys at school with their endless pining.

eddie believes you have zero flaw. everything about you just screams perfect.

you’re not popular by any means. nor a cheerleader but you’re friendly with others even with the basketball team. and they like you too, despite you befriending the freak of the school. there are no social groups you despise. and people love you for it. unlike him who prefers to have a small circle to keep himself from getting hurt.

and don’t let him get started with that pretty brain of yours. you’re extremely smart and manage to pass all your classes with flying colors. never once gotten a C or D on your tests. all the teachers favor you of all. also, star of the volleyball team? what’s not to like?

up until today, he still questions why you hang out with him rather than the preppy jocks and cheerleaders who have been asking you to join their gang. your answer is always a no. eddie is who you want to be friends with from the very beginning.

“good news!” you cheerfully announce your arrival, pulling out a chair from eddie’s table. “there’s a costume party tonight and i want you to come with me! I’ve listed about twenty things we can wear.”

eddie slows down his chewing to look at you with a bewildered expression. “you’re shitting me, right?”

“uh.. no?” your answer almost sounds like a question instead. “come on it’d be fun! you never go to things like this with me, and I want my best friend to be there”

eddie feels like someone stabs him in the heart hearing you call him a ‘friend’. it pains him so much to know that it’s all he’s ever going to be to you. nothing more.

“who’s party is it?” he asks, playing with his food as he leans back,

“Jacob from the basketball team” you shrug, flipping through your notebook. “here! you can be tommy lee and i can be cindy crawford. i mean, they didn’t date but they would be such a good match, don’t you think?”

we would be such a good match too, he wants to say. but he chooses not to,

“I don’t know sweetheart…” he sighs, looking down at the cut-off magazines of Tommy lee and Cindy Crawford you glued on the notebook. “it’s not really my scene.”

“the hideout is not my scene too, but I’m always there to support you and the band” you cross your arms, “tell him gareth!”

gareth shakes his head, eyes on his food as the rest of the boys snicker. “don’t drag me into this, you two sort this out yourselves”

that makes your groan and stomp your foot underneath the table. looking over back to eddie who put on a smirk and shrug his shoulders. “you’re asking the wrong people, y/n. why not nancy or robin? or Emma from your volleyball team?”

“nancy is hanging with Jonathan, robin’s working and I’m not talking to Emma right now. all she talks about is you, and I don’t like it” you grumble, popping a strawberry into your mouth,

“me? what did she say?” he asks curiously

“yes. she likes you and i don’t like that. call me selfish but you’re mine.” you respond nonchalantly, missing out on how eddie’s eyes widen. so are the rest of the boys. “so? pretty, pretty please? i don’t want anyone but you to come to the party. i promise i will do anything you want me to. i’d get down on my knees for you, right now.”

oh fuck, why did you have to say it like that? those words just send pure vibrations straight to his dick,

plus, seeing the puppy dog eyes and cute pout you have going on, eddie seems can’t find it in his heart to say no to you.

“alright sure, whatever” he tries to come off like he doesn’t care but there’s a tiny bit of happiness in him when you mentioned he’s the only person you’ve asked,

it makes him feel wanted.

with a squeal, you reach out in his direction and give him a big kiss on the cheek. which startles him but it’s not a surprise anymore. you’re just extremely affectionate. and he doesn’t know this but, Eddie is the only person you’re touchy with.

“thank you, thank you!! love you eds, I’ll see you guys later. I’m gonna go make myself busy with the outfits for tonight.” with that, you get up and bid the boys bye before rushing off out of the cafeteria and to the hallway,

eddie watches you go with a lovesick smile on his face. touching his cheek where your lips had tainted it, you’ve done it more than ten times by now. but it never fails to leave him speechless.

“you’re so in love with her, dude” jeff mentions, scoffing as he watches the long curly haired boy staring out into the open, refusing to move just one bit

he can’t even deny that anymore. Aeddie is most definitely fucked

—

a smile painted on your lips as you take a good look at yourself in the mirror. damn you look extra fine.

you had called one of your good friends earlier for some advice. thankfully she knows exactly what she was talking about when you mentioned about aiming the cher’s look.

yes, yes, you thought about going as cindy crawford but come on! who could resist cher? she’s the queen!

you’ve chosen a black floral lace bustier that compliments your breasts. and by that, it means having your tits barely covered by the material but you don’t mind. you love showing off your assets. paired with a short black sequin denim skirt and crystal platforms that your best friend would classify as ‘stripper shoes’ which you take as a compliment. strippers are hot. you refer to it as cinderella heels though.

the makeup is pretty glamorous you might say. it’s all colorful and you’ve added glitter in the corner of your eyes, topped with dark red lipstick that you know would make everyone go crazy. as for hair, you let it down naturally. no farah fawcett’s crap that steve told you to do.

as you fix yourself up over and over, there’s a sudden knock on the front door. a signature six knocks that you know very well. eddie munson is here to pick you up!

“coming!” you call out, quickly snatching your purse from the dresser and speed walk towards the door. cursing to yourself when you nearly trip over,

since your mom isn’t home, there’s no point of leaving her a note or anything like that. she’d be here tomorrow at lunch time anyway, she always does

you aren’t ready to witness the sight before your eyes when you open the door.

there he is. eddie munson in flesh. looking extremely—handsome, rockstar sexy, bite-able and…. god you can’t believe you’re saying this, delicious ?! Is that even the right word to describe someone, let alone your best friend?

“holy hell. ozzy pinch me” you mutter to yourself, eyeing him up and down to check him out.

eddie is dressed in an all-black tank too that’s tucked under his dark-washed jeans, showing off his chest and tattoos. if you could even call that a top because it barely covers anything?! who knew he could be such a slut sometimes. and he had the nerve to put his hair in a low ponytail. loose waves framing his pretty face. he looks completely different from any other day.

and—hold up, he’s wearing an eyeliner?!

“who are you supposed to be?” you can’t keep your eyes off him. he looks so good. “tommy lee?”

“close. richie sambora. guitarist from bon jovi. i figured tommy lee has been getting way overrated and i wanted to try something different” he says confidently as he also takes a good look on your appearance,

dear god, help the fuck outta him.

“a-and you are…”

“cher!” you smile, rubbing the material of your skirt. “wait a minute, didn’t richie sambora and cher-“

“dated? hell yeah! oh, sweetheart would you look at that. we read each other’s mind!”

with a giggle, you hush him up before closing the door behind you. linking your arms together as the two of you walk towards his van. cigarette hanging over his mouth. you frown at that. clearly not very supportive of him smoking but since he’s your best friend, you let him do your thing.

“don’t we look so good together! look at us. strutting and shit and about to steal the spotlight.”

he must think that you don’t understand how those words affect him and how badly he wanted it to be true.

“most definitely” he fakes a smile to hide the hurt in his heart. “most definitely.”

—

post arrival at the party, you tug Eddie's fingers towards the house despite his pleas on wanting to leave already. telling you how he changed his mind after seeing the number of people that were going to be there. yes, he hates crowds. which confuses you because this man performs in public with his band!

he keeps on whining and promising a good time together when it’s only the two of you. even tries to bribe you with an entire bag of greens he carries tonight.

but that doesn’t work.

“just for a while, okay? and then we can go and get high until the sun comes up” you hug his waist, “you’re gonna have so much fun. with me!”

eddie could only scoff, slinging his arm over your shoulder as both of you walked into the party. super freak by rick James blasting over the speakers with pretty LED lights attached to the ceilings. endless drunk chatters and laughter from the people. it’s just like any typical high school party

“i better. or else it’d be all for nothing.”

“no it won’t” you smile, “you should wear this more often. you look very handsome.”

his cheeks go hot when you feel the material of his top. “I’m nothing compared to you though, sugar” he puts his hand over his heart, pinky finger links with yours as the two of you reach the kitchen to grab a booze. “you’re going to make people’s head turns and shit. i turn around for a sec and some guy would sweep you off your feet.”

“nooo” you shake your head, pouring yourself vodka with coke into the cup and grabbing a beer for eddie. “you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“is it working?” he grins, cracking the beer open not breaking eye contact with you,

“a bit” you nod, hoisting yourself up to sit on the kitchen countertop with eddie standing in front of you. “you say that to all the other girls?”

“only my favorite,” he responds, referring to you as he sips on the cold beverage,

that makes your tummy tickle. eddie just has his own way of making you blush and create a tingling sensation through your body. he does it better than anyone you’ve come across to.

he truly is a heaven-sent.

“not that bad right? want to try some of mine?” you offer,

“i’m driving, remember?” he raises an eyebrow.

“one sip won’t kill you! when have you become a party pooper?”

“i’m not! I’m being careful” he laughs, “the principal wouldn’t like hearing his favorite student turned into a party freak, you know?”

“hey!” you slap his arm, dragging the word. “i am not a party freak. i just happen to know how to have fun unlike you!”

“you take that back” he pokes your sides, earning a giggle from you. “of course, I know how to have fun! you’re forgetting who brought the weed?”

“yeah yeah” you give him an eye roll but a smile remains on your face, “i’m so glad you came with me tonight. it means a lot to me, thank you.”

he beams at that, heart beating faster with the way you look at him. he finds your gaze so… hypnotizing. he could be so lost in those gorgeous eyes of yours and doesn’t ever want to be found.

It has been months that these feelings he has for you. they never truly disappeared, only becoming stronger each day. and he doesn’t want them to. he wants to drown himself in you, to taste every single lipgloss you have off of your mouth. to hold you in his embrace, when everything gets too much for him. he wants everything good in this world, but he doesn’t want them if you’re not with him.

and not just physically there with him but emotionally too. to tie his heart with yours because there’s no person he’d rather be.

“listen y/n, i need to tell you something—“

“hey y/n? you finally made it!”

eddie is interrupted by a loud noise coming from behind. he looks over your shoulder and grits his teeth to see Danny, one of Jason’s friends coming over. he fucking hates him. he hates his stupid blonde hair and baby blue eyes, two beautiful traits that he knows would have you falling in love.

how does he know you ask? you mentioned it to him before. danny is the one guy you have your eyes on for a while and he seems sweet based on brief conversations you’ve had with him.

he doesn’t like the sound of that. he doesn’t want you falling for another guy. he wants it to be him that you love. no one else

“danny, hey. yup i sure did!” you wave at him and watch him getting closer. “oh and I brought eddie here with me.”

danny looks over at him with a tight smile, nodding his head as a form of greeting. “sup, dude”

eddie doesn’t return it, only glaring at the jock, which he hopes you don’t see. his grip around the beer is tightening once he sees how danny looks at you. like you’re some piece of meat.

“how are you enjoying the party?” danny asks lamely, clearly not interested in small talks but you barely recognize it,

“like any other party. but the costume idea is cool. that’s why we’re going as a couple”

“oh, the two of you are dating?” danny points out, almost ready to get rejected,

and eddie wants to confirm it. to say yes to that question just so he can leave you the fuck alone and have you all to himself. he’s pissed because he can’t even get one minute alone with you at the party without some guy walking in and ruin the moment.

but before he could answer, you beat him to it. “no we’re not. just the costumes.”

danny releases some sort of sigh of relief that eddie can’t help but pick on. “oh well then can i talk to you for a sec?”

eddie isn’t stupid, he knows what danny means by that.

“uhm sorry I promised eddie, I’m staying with him for the rest of the party. plus it’s the only reason why i came here”

“I’m sure eddie can wait few minutes without you here. right man?”

one punch. that’s all it takes for him just to knock this dipshit out. but he can’t and he won’t do that. especially in front of you. despite the disgusting lust glinting across danny’s eyes, eddie knows how much you like him. and he doesn’t want to ruin that chance.

even if it means getting his heart broken. all that matters is if you’re happy.

“sure” he shoots a not-so-genuine smile. “i’ll be here.”

“are you sure? i don’t want to leave your side” you take his hand in his, giving it a squeeze

“I’m a big boy sweetheart, I’ll be fine” he jokes, pulling you down from the table. “not going anywhere.”

still, you feel unsure about leaving him. you feel bad because you did actually promise to stay with him until the two of you got sick of the party then ditch the fuck out to go have a smoke.

“okay” you give him a comforting smile. “i won’t be long”

eddie nods at that, glancing at how danny is quick enough to hold your hands so he could scurry you away from his presence. he hates it.

“come on, sweetheart”

—

you feel shy when it comes to talking to guys you are attracted to. it’s like you have no idea how to act normal around them, fear that they might look at you differently if you did one thing wrong.

and danny is one of those guys. he’s the second-star of a basketball player, popular with the ladies, and just overall—dreamy. has girls tripping over this pretty boy

he’s super nice too. letting you borrow his pen, walk you to classes, trying to pull a joke just to see you smile, and even engage in your favorite hobbies. seems like he is very much interested in you and it makes you feel hopeful.

he leads you upstairs so the two of you can have a little more ‘privacy’ because it’s far too loud downstairs. obviously you still haven’t caught his drift, thinking to yourself that danny actually wanted to talk to you. probably ask you out on a date, if you’re lucky enough?

“here. better, huh?” he smiles once you enter the dimmed light bedroom.

your mirror his expression, playing with your fingers as your eyes take a look around the place. hearing the door clicks and his footsteps from behind.

“you look gorgeous tonight.” his hands find its way around your waist making you gasp in surprise. “relax—you’re so jumpy”

“yeah—just nervous i guess.” you let out a breathless laugh before turning around to face him, lips just inches away. “s-so uhm, what did you want to talk with me about?”

his knuckles softly graze your shoulder blade and down to the side of your breast. “that can wait. you don’t mind, do you?”

“not at all” gulping when he begins to touch you like that, “j-just you know um—i can’t be too long”

he just nods, being completely dismissive. and in a second his mouth is on yours. hungrily kissing you while he palms your ass under the skirt. catching you by surprise

he’s being quite aggressive but this is what you wanted, is it? to be pushed down onto the bed while he hovers on top of you. hands roaming over your body as his mouth never leave yours.

the thing is though, this is not how you wanted it to start.

“wait wait stop” you push him off, “can we just take it slow? talk or something because i really don’t want to do this right now.”

he frowns, “what do you mean? we’re gonna talk later. come on baby, don’t shy away from me now”

danny leans back in to kiss you again but you back away. “no i know! It’s just, we haven’t gotten to know each other lately and—it’d be nice to have that”

he stares at you for a moment before standing up straight. you smile nervously, thinking that he’d agree, but instead, he scoffs. an annoyed expression taking over his face

“seriously, y/n? what the actual fuck?” you’re taken aback by his tone. not to mention the mockery laugh he heaves out.

“talk? that’s all you ever wanted to do. talk and talk! my god you fucking infuriating, you know that?! who the fuck do you think you are?!”

watching how he swiftly turns into a whole different person, terrifies you so much. something you truly never expected.

the smile drops from your face. “w-what?”

“you’ve done this to me for like—what, the third time? tease me then leave me hanging. you think i asked you to be in here because i was interested in you? in what you have to say? i don’t sweetheart” he plasters a sarcastic smile before continuing,

“wait, what do you m-mean?” fear and confusion starting to take over as you hear him voice another scoff

“god you’re fucking dumb” he hangs his head low. “you actually thought—when you talked to me about things you found interesting in is gonna make me like you? I’m only here just to fuck you, y/n not so we can be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

tears starting to form in your eyes, but you try your best to hold them in. not wanting to cry in front of him. nails digging into the skin of your palms, shoulders slumping as his words continue to pierce through your heart.

“everytime you open your mouth all i could think to myself is ‘who the fuck does this girl think she is?' y/n you’re so fucking. boring. nobody cares about that shit. i just played along hoping that i could get my dick wet but nope. shit didn’t work either.”

you watch how danny continues to throw insult after insult. ripping you apart until you have no dignity left inside. and you feel so, so stupid. stupid to think that anyone would ever like you for you. not just your body.

it hurts you that danny turns out to be someone who has such cruel intentions and you were so blind to actually see that. to think that he’d be sweet enough to ask you out and be the perfect boyfriend.

all that goes into the drain.

“i’m gonna tell you the truth since everyone is a little too chicken shit to say it.” he crouches down to your eye level with a scowl. “any guy who’s interested in beyond fucking you— is full of shit. you’re only good for a pair of nice tits and a hole to put it in. I’m pretty sure munson feels the same way.”

that does it. you push him off hard enough so you’ll be able to stand in your feet and walk out of the room. tears start to stream down your face as your rush downstairs to hide yourself in a bathroom before anyone could see.

you lean your back against the bath tub, sitting there with knees tucked against your chest. both hands covering your mouth to muffle the loud cries you let out. words cannot describe the pain you’re feeling right now. the way it’s taking over your mind and soul, that all you wanted to do is just to dig yourself up a hole and lay there.

you have no idea how this one will last

—

eddie has no idea how it happens. one minute he was drinking alone then the next, he has a girl coming up to his direction and flirt with him. at first, he thought about her only using him to get weed so he told her off,

but she insisted that it wasn’t about that. letting him know that she’s genuinely interested in having a conversation with him. so fifteen minutes later, eddie finds himself enjoying a presence of another person.

“you’re emma, right?” he asks, seeing her nod. “y/n told me that you like me.”

“oh god” she laughs, covering her face in embarrassment. “she didn’t have to say that! she made a promise not to tell.”

“i’m her best friend, of course she tells me everything” he proudly says, downing the rest of the beer before chucking it onto the bin,

“you don’t feel weird about that?”

“no why would i be?”

“usually when someone learns that there’s a guy or a girl like them, they usually avoid them like a plague.”

“oh, not me” he shakes his head. “I’d be so flattered to know someone actually like me.”

“kind of like you and y/n there?”

“huh? no, we’re just friends.” he confirms

she cocks her head to the side, “just friends? are you sure?”

“yes? why are you asking?”

“dunno it’s just—you look at her differently. like she’s your soulmate or something” with a shrug, she watches how he gulps and runs his fingers through his hair nervously,

“oh t-that’s nothing. we’re just friends.” he confirms yet again, “plus, she has his eyes on someone else and he’s taking her upstairs just now.”

“who?”

“danny” he almost groans at the name being spoken. “that fucking pretty boy who could easily sweep any girl off her feet and now he got y/n hooked too.”

he almost wanted to say ‘my girl’. almost

“you sure about that?” emma narrows her eyes over his shoulder. “because danny is there and y/n isn’t with him”

confusion written all over his face as he follows her gaze. turning around to find danny fist bumping with his friends before sipping on his drink. he looks displeased to say at least.

something’s not right…

“i gotta go—i need to look for her” he bids without even looking at her before walking away from the kitchen. hearing her protests but he pays no mind to it.

eddie think twice about going over to danny and give him a piece of mind, however you’re far more important than punching a jock right now.

“y/n?! y/n!” he fights through a sea of people, screaming your name. “it’s a party dumbass, she’s not going to hear you.”

his head frantically looks over to the sides, eyes trailing from upstairs and back to the party. bunch of curses falling over his lips as he fails to find you,

“hey you—with the… never mind, have you seen y/n?” he asks a random stranger who only shrugs in response, eddie jumps from one person to another. asking about you and give them brief description about your appearance,

“she went to the bathroom” one girl points her finger down to the hallway, “i don’t know what happened but she looked like she was about to have a break down”

hearing that just makes his heart drop, what could possibly go wrong?

“okay, thanks” he mutters, speed walking towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. which thankfully there aren’t people crowding the area, they’re all far too busy with get shitfaced.

“sweetheart?” eddie calls, knocking softly on the door. “it’s me—your eddie.”

you don’t give him a verbal answer. just a choked sob that leaves your throat, causing eddie’s heart to break even more.

“i’m coming in, okay?” he doesn’t wait for your response, twisting the door knob as he opens the door. a sight of you, breaking down on the floor, body shaking is enough just to create an unbearable heartache for him.

“oh, sweetheart” he closes the door softly, walking towards your figure as he kneels down. “what happened?”

you ignore him for a few seconds and eddie doesn’t push it more. after a while, you lift your head up to look at him. eyes red and teary with smudged mascara. cheeks coated with fresh tears.

is it bad to think how pretty you look even in this state?

his hands reach out. aching to hold your hands in his, he feels internally relieved when you don’t push him away.

“mind telling me what’s wrong? was it danny? did he do this to you?” he needs to control his rage when he speaks the name. yet how could he when that motherfucker just made his favorite girl cry.

a shaky sigh escape your mouth, broken gaze then falls down to the marble floor. a question builds up in your throat, one that you need to ask him after the horrible exchange you had with danny.

“do you think sex is the only thing I’m good for? am i—boring, apart from that?”

“what?! y/n why the fuck would you ask me that! of course it’s not true!”

again you ignore him, “i feel like there’s nothing else i could ever offer except my body—i mean isn’t that what most guys think of me?”

“no y/n! no! w-what, danny said that?!” he asks, gripping your hands tightly,

you sadly nod, inhaling a sharp breath,

“what exactly did he say to you?” eddie wants nothing more than to walk out of this room and beat the shit out of him,

“h-he said I’m only good for a pair of tits and a h-hole to put it in” you find yourself breaking again, hard sobs leaving your mouth. “and that guys who think their interested in me beyond that are liars—you included”

his eyes are widen, head shaking in furious manner that make his curls move. “y/n you cannot possibly believe that scumbag! why would you think that i-“

“you don’t have to lie eddie, it’s okay”

“i’m not!” he almost screams, “i’m not lying to you—you do know that you are far more interesting than anyone that goes to our fucking school?”

you only shrug, not knowing what to believe anymore. and it hurts him. it hurts him that you somehow trusts danny’s words over his.

“god y/n” he lets out a breathy laugh. “sweetheart, look at me”

he tucks his finger under your chin to get you to see him. and when you do, eddie feels like it’s the right time to say what he needs to say to you.

“y/n y/l/n you’re so unbelievably perfect.” he tells, hands moving to cradle your cheeks and he melts when you lean into his hold. “you are so brilliant—funny, gorgeous, caring and overall fucking. perfect. in my eyes” he breathes out,

your eyes slowly soften at his confession, heart finding its steady beat as your sobs slowly sink away.

“and-and i—fuck it— i made at least 37 songs about you. written so many love letters i lost count knowing that i will never have the balls to say it to you.” he admits, almost too shy. “you’ve become my muse— i look at you and i see home—for once in my life i feel like i could belong because you make me feel so special. you’re the heather locklear to my tommy lee sweetheart. wouldn’t want anybody else on my side when i sell out arenas except you.”

a short silence falls between the two of you before he continues,

“sweetheart all of the things you do—man, you wouldn’t want to know” he jokes, earning a small smile from you. gaze never tearing away from his. “you know, sophomore year? i used to sit in the back of the class, counted the times that you smiled at me and i died on days that you didn’t”

he smiles at the memory. you walked into the classroom in pretty little pink skirt that looked so adorable on you, from that moment on he was sure he fell down into the pit of love.

“y/n—“ he closes his eyes for a moment, because the next thing he’s about to say is going to change everything.

“i am so totally, completely, head over heels, bend over backwards, ten thousand percent, in love with you—have been for two years and it grew even more when i heard you recite lord of the rings with me—and my feelings are not going to change wether you’re capable of letting me or not—so fuck, okay that sounds so demanding—i’m sorry if this is out of line-“

you cut him off by smashing your lips against his, keeping your figure steady by holding onto his shoulders. you swallow the surprise gasp that he lets out.

eddie feels his heart is going to burst—his mind is going ballistic over the fact that his dream girl just kissed him.

holy fucking ozzy, you kissed him! he finds himself melt under your touch right away.

as for you—oh god his lips—where do you even begin? it feels so soft and warm molding against yours. but most importantly it feels so right.

how on earth could you be so blind all these time? months of pining and struggling to find the perfect someone when there has always been the one standing right in front of you but you never even took the time to actually see it.

eddie is the one,

as someone who holds the title for being a straight A student, you sure are fucking stupid when it comes to love.

after for what it feels like eternity, both of you pull away from the kiss. eyes slowly opening up to find another, a smile break out on each other’s faces. his grin though, far bigger than yours.

“holy shit” he laughs, holding you by the waist, “i’ve been wanting to do that for a long time”

“yeah?“ you bite your lip, giggling after. thumbs moving to graze his cheeks lightly, then down to his lips. “was it good?”

“sweetheart it’s even better than i imagined” he sees how you immediately shy away from the comment, head ducking down to avoid his stare. “i love you—fuck i love you so bad”

“i—i love you too” you finally say, brushing out the frizzy bangs that are covering his handsome face. “have been for so so long and i didn’t know you feel that way eds, i thought you had a thing for chrissy and i figured you know—i should back off and move on to someone else just so i can get over you”

“don’t” he quickly replies, not wanting to imagine her being in someone else’s hold. “i’m glad you didn’t because i don’t want you to ever get over me, baby”

you nearly go putty at the nickname, “you’re the only person I want from now on—only you”

his heart grows when you give him the reassurance he needed to hear. brown pupils even dilated when he looks at you—that’s when he knows for sure, he’s got it bad

and he wouldn’t want it any other way,

“all this time” he starts, tugging you closer to him as he buries his face in your neck. his curls tickling you and making you giggle. “i could’ve had you in my arms for two damn years”

“we are two idiots huh? but you finally got me anyway” you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. feeling him smile through it.

“i finally got you”

—

i feel like this is bad…sorry bsjdjdjd i just had to finish it quickly and empty out my drafts

anyways please do reblog and comment ! xx

#eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fics #eddie things

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peacexatxlast · 1 year

Text

Thomas Shelby; For a Good Cause a/n: After geeking to a dear friend about the slutty Brummie ganster... I had this idea. Shoutout to @jvstsaywhen for helping sort out my messy thoughts and giving me a good laugh in the process. You are an angel for dealing with my dramaticize.... ah.... however it's spelled ;) I hope you enjoy this chaos... Er... that's all... <3 plot: Tommy is in a mood and snaps at Frances. His wife does not approve... Warnings: Smuttttt, swearing, terrible plot and messy structure Word count: 3,098

There were days where Tommy would traipse around the house with docile ignorance to time. When life was in his command and the very March of the clock seemed to tick, tick, tick to his orders. ‘On the up’ he used to say, having his ducks lined in a neat row to be sent out and executed accordingly. Everyone enjoyed Tommy in this state, finding his company to be much more approachable and welcoming than the latter when hell seemed to burn in his stare.

His wife thoroughly enjoyed his good moods, praising his tactical brilliance all the while as he would share his plans to expand the ever increasing wealth of Shelby Company Limited. He liked strategies, and when one was perfectly flowing by his bullet points, it gave him time to relax into her touch and devote attention to her. God, she loved when the world revolved around Thomas Shelby and bowed to his will accordingly.

That day… was not one of those times.

The house was torn into a hurricane. Thomas didn’t walk nor traipse, stuck in his office since dawn. No, he simmered, brooded, boiled. Whatever familial, political or business related issue he was stewing over, she thought better than to interrupt or disturb him. His sharp tongue and quick wit was only favorable when the dark cloud above his head wasn’t there striking lightning and crackling a roar of thunder. He was intolerable when he was struck under these moods, and so she busied herself that day on the other side of the house and ignored altogether his office.

That is, until she caught word through the walls of the house of an episode involving their dear, loyal head maid and her moody, tempered husband. He’d snapped at her! Two younger maids were gossiping in the corridor, the woman of the house’s steps light and airy as she descended into the madness. She was not one to play into the whispers and traveling gossip, never sure how much truth was seeded through the game of telephone. However, the news she’d captured was not all that unbelievable. In fact, she believed every single word of it.

Even so, she went straight to the source, confronting the maid about her husband’s behavior. She came on behalf of Frances, in favor of the woman, and she made that very clear as she approached her. “I have overheard Thomas has said something to upset you, Frances…Please, before you try to defend him, I am coming to get the truth so I can proceed and make sure this is dealt with properly…. No, Frances, his behavior is not alright! ….No matter what tantrum he has conjured within himself, he is not to unload it upon you! ……I assure you, this will be handled immediately. …..Take the evening off, I insist. As well as the other maids. I will be sure he eats something…” Yeah, a stale loaf and murky bath water… The lengthy exchange had come to an end with permission to relax and recover from Thomas’ short temper. She sincerely apologized on his behalf, embracing the older woman fondly. She had been a constant in the midst of the ever changing staff who were scared off by the Shelby man.

The woman stopped short of the office door, glaring daggers into the polished oak as she debated entering inside and ripping into him. Her better judgment stalled her fantasy, knowing the outcome of such frivolous escapades. Thomas, much like an impetuous child being reprimanded, did not respond well to arguing and the rise of her voice. Yelling and screaming would only fuel coal into his burning fire. She did not wish to stoke this outrage but to smother it in water and cut off its supply of oxygen before it further burned anyone in the household. Had he kept his mood to himself, she wouldn’t have even bothered to address it. He lost that privilege the moment he spoke against Frances. Now, he must be scolded…. But craftily.

Other alternatives were needed besides yelling. As his wife of sometime now, she had learned how to best escalate these outbursts: by meeting him in the middle… Of his body that is, speaking through his cock- on his cock- while his mind was clouded by pleasure and would adhere to anything and everything she said. Men were really, truly simple-minded creatures at the end of the day… and the sun had just begun to descend from the sky.

She popped back up into their bedroom and slipped into something a little more uncomfortable for the evening. Adorned in a silk slip with sheer lingerie hidden beneath, she padded downstairs after a few spritz of perfume and a light toss of her hair on her shoulders. The clothing she wore was not for her benefit but his, remembering a comment he had made about how he so adored her in such apparel. As a good, devoted wife would, she remembered these things to spark erotica into his heart when the mood fancied her more than him. She’d never been turned away blatantly, but sometimes it took a retreating reprieve to lick her wounds and come back with vengeance, looking good enough to eat. And eat he would.

Out of respect, she knocked. Time ticked by, moments stretching into a minute before she heard, ‘Come’. It was gruff and calloused, her eyes narrowing as she pushed the door open, adjusting the tie at her waist. It was late enough in the evening to assume she would be in such attire, batting eyelashes to clear the glare from her gaze as she sought his form out.

Stress cloaked the shadows of his face, earning a soft hum from her lips as she followed the maze of chairs and coffee table to appear before him. “I know you’re busy, so I will keep it short and sweet.” She purred decadently, a sultry glance offered in jest as she removed the silk from her body to be devoured by the glaring gaze of her husband. He was upset to be interrupted, jaw tightening further at the new material offered to gaze at. Whether or not he enjoyed this view was beyond her, but she bathed in the heat of his stare nonetheless. Her name fell across her lips, either in plea or warning… Again, she was unsure of the origin, but it didn’t matter. She pursued on with her mission, rounding the desk. He leaned back in the throne of his palace, a good sign she noted. She was not above fucking on paperwork like a needy whore she often was; however, the wise woman was attempting to make his life a little less irritating. Wrinkled papers and soiled cardstock would only upset him further, so she began neatly piling the mess onto the side with enough room for her to be splayed out in front of him later however he saw fit.

The undergarments she wore left little to the imagination, swaying her hips in a tantalizing manner while she worked. Her ass, one of her better features in her opinion, was perfectly on display in front of him covered in pale blue. Straightening, she turned to address him once more. He hadn’t spoken, a sharp glare slicing into her. “I can see the ungreased gears grinding in your mind, Thomas. You’re running off of smoke and fumes, and you’re reasoning and decision making will suffer for it. So,” A grin slipped over her lips, dropping to her knees with a look of need so saturated in exaggeration it was almost too satire to believe… Either way, he didn’t seem to notice or care, head cocked in interest. Jesus, he looked divine, the burdens of the world resting atop his shoulders working for him. And that damned waistcoat… His sleeves rolled in the sluttiest of ways to his elbows. She melted, biting her lip. “Let me help you clear your… head…” Teeth tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, pushing her palms onto his thighs as she rolled between his legs. Her head tilted, seeking his lips for a kiss. It was ultimately his choice to agree, eyes fluttered at half mast with a beckoning gaze.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as his lips brushed hers, reaching further to seal their agreement in a kiss. He was so fucking easy to draw in, lips quirking into a smug grin as his hand wrapped around her throat with a delicate squeeze. Pressed further into his palm, she extended her vulnerability towards him. Even in his worst of mood, she trusted him wholly with her life. He would never allow harm to come to her, either by another’s or his own hand. That much she could count on.

The unholy darkened gaze of lust pooling in his icy stare was enough to drench her thighs in arousal, mouth watering and nearly forgetting her reason for this visit. It was so easy to be trapped in the riptide of his attention, treading dangerous waters as if she were in the shallows. She wanted to drown in his affection, tightening fingers around his thighs, scratching at the fabric which was now proving to be an annoying barrier. She had come prepared for this, the least he could do was catch up!

“How do you want me, Mr. Shelby?” She whispered against her hungry embrace, nipping at his bottom lip while trailing her palm up his thigh and towards his groin. There was no doubt in her mind of his hardening state, only solidifying what she knew to be true while stroking his growing arousal. “How can I help you relax, sir?” Fingers twitched around her throat, pulling a low groan from her lips, tilting her head back eagerly. “Bent over my desk, Mrs. Shelby. First piece of business crossing it that I’ve enjoyed working on.” The gravel in his voice was thrown down at his feet, collecting at her knees where she hurriedly moved to obey his command. Her heart pattered on incessantly in her chest, wiggling from her underwear; the fabric pooled at her feet in a soft flutter, kicked aside as rough hands found the new expanse of flesh.

Her wiggling in search of something to grind against earned her behind a quick slap. She yelped, more out of surprise than anything. It hardly hurt, the blushing print of his hand fading as quickly as it had come… much to her disappointment, but the thrill of his reprimand remained, stepping aside to flaunt his goods for him. It all belonged to him anyways, something he was all too aware of given his patience…

“Please, Tommy…” She whined, shuddering delightfully as his fingers traced the inner flesh of her parted thigh. He strayed from where the subtle ache began to grow, needy and impatient for the relief that only he could offer. She arched in such a way to find the edge of the desk brushing teasingly against her swelling bundle of nerves. A moan caught in her throat, hissing softly at the sharp pain receding into pleasure. It wasn’t enough to satiate her, and if anything it only brought a renewed rush of desperation to settle in her belly.

He chuckled, kneading the flesh of her thigh with one hand while the other handled the buttons of his trousers. “Thought this was for my stress relief, hm? Looks like you’re in need of a reliever as well.” His words unnerved her, eyes rolling backwards with a shiver rolling under her spine. Remember the mission… Right…

“You’ve not touched me in more than a week, Thomas. Do forgive your wife for seeking out your affection once in a while, ey?” She bit playfully, reaping the reward of her snarky attitude as Thomas adorned another smack to her ass. In the process of recovering from the delicious prick of pain stinging her flesh, he introduced her to a new sensation of minor discomfort: one she never truly grew accustomed to no matter how prepared she was. The head of his cock pushed past slick folds and buried himself within her cunt in a single thrust. A hot moan burbled from her lips, unbridled need spilling unabashed in the presence of her creator and destroyer. With one word he could build her higher than the tallest mountain or steepest building, and the slightest brush of his hand could have her crumpling harder to the floor than the burning of Rome.

“Then it’s all too overdue, isn’t it?” He rasped, finding the natural handle to grip of her curved hip, recoiling back and striking fast. Even despite his girth and size, she would always adjust, but in the initial moment of penetration she relished the twinge of pain brimming with tension as it dissolved deliciously into pleasure. Part of the reason for dismissing the maids for the evening was her inability to withhold the melodic chorus of praises falling from her mouth, blessing the gods for creating such a man to ravish her so thoroughly. It’d become a rule to not withhold her sounds of enjoyment from him, and she made no effort to do so at that moment as he decided on a pace that best suited his mood then: brutal.

With a pace that would surely bring a bruising hand print from how tightly he held her, pulling back and snapping his hips back just as quickly, she smoothed her hands against the top of the desk towards the edge where she curled her fingers to give hold to something. It was all the stability she had, the balls of her feet lifting from the floor while he moved her where he wanted, how he wanted, and when. Her nails clawed into the pine or oak or whatever the hell he wanted his damned desk to be, sure to have ruined a perfectly good manicure, but for a good cause. The color could easily be reapplied at a later date, then focusing on keeping her footing as she was propped on her tippy toes. She trusted him further to not let her fall into a mess onto the floor, and he ever so kindly secured her faith with a hand snaking into her scalp and pulling. A choked moan fell from her lips, taking every inch of his borderline abusive thrusts. She was greedy for his attention, hungrily devouring every gruff grunt and groan that parted his scowl. “I want to see you, Tommy… please.” She murmured, rolling with what little power she had to match his relentless pace. Three times he slammed into her again, relinquishing enough to spin and toss her body onto the desk like a rag doll. Desire hooded her gaze, reaching blindly to grasp at his shoulders and pull him in for a heated kiss. Masterfully, he maneuvered himself once more between her thighs, drawing a shared sigh of relief from them both. She would have thanked him if she could form a coherent fucking thought then, too busy clawing and grasping at his clothes to shed them. The waistcoat, his shirt, exposing every layer until his chest was bared before her.

Her lips attacked him with as much abandon as he fucked her, spreading her legs further, tucking them appropriately around his waist to latch onto him. His breath was hot against her neck, teeth sinking into her pulse point while she lay siege to his back with an assault of her nails.

“Thomas, fuck, right there!” Over and over again he drilled the head of his erection in the most calculated way to curl her toes and see stars beneath her eyelids. She whimpered softly, the guilt brushing over her intense pleasure that it prolonged her release. Agitated, she clung tighter to him, begging for more of him: harder, faster, deeper. Thomas was all too kind to comply, filling the office room with her sweet, sweet cries paired with the harmony of skin meeting skin. Pressure built within his abdomen, muscles tightening, flexing, burning for release. The tell of his impending orgasm came in the subtle loss of his rhythm, arm snaking around her waist for support as he chased after the high. His needy behavior pulled her father into the swarming heat boiling within her stomach, whining for his attention, demanding he satiate her needs as well. She didn’t have to ask twice, finding relief in the flick of his thumb over the slick of her bundled nerves, circling her button with relative ease; it seemed as though he hardly had to put effort into causing her downfall.

“Oh, fucking- Tommy, fuck me, please… Fill me, love,” Her sweet coax was his own demolition, cresting the mountain and quickly crashing down in a crescendo of blurring release. She held her orgasm until he came, coming undone in the very capable hands of her husband with breathless cries of his name which would disperse evenly throughout the room and haunt him later while he attempted to finish his letters. Good. She would reduce herself to nothing more than his panting, begging whore if it meant he would return regularly to their marital bed.

The moment directly after an orgasm was possibly her favorite. Silence enveloped them safely in an embrace, sweat coated bodies relaxing into one another while they panted into one another’s mouth for oxygen. No words were needed in exchange, holding onto him for a moment longer before allowing him to part from her and collect his composure. A breathless giggle, blissed to heaven and back in the warm delusion post orgasm. “You will apologize to Frances for the harsh comment you made to her earlier.” She breathed, her tone soft but sincere, rounded with an authority she only carried when necessary. As he tucked himself within his trousers, he nodded curtly, shifting his glance to her suspiciously. A smile graced her lips, waiting for him to hand her undergarments to her like a gentleman should, accepting them with a soft ‘thank you’.

“This is how you relieve built up tension, not snapping at your staff in undeserved anguish. Especially Frances. I’m your wife; I’m made to take it.” she slipped from the desk, wrapping the robe around her body once more. Her hand threaded through his scalp comfortingly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Try not to spend all night working. I will be in bed when you decide to join me. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

The faintest quirk of a smile met his lips, pecking her lips before she escaped him. “Goodnight, my love.”

#tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #champagne writes; thomas shelby

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anarcoqueer1994 · 2 years

Text

Dustin does not expect to see Steve sitting on his couch, shirtless, covered in blood and shaking when he got home from Hellfire. He was supposed to be spending the night at Mike's with the other guys but he forgot his bag, so he was going to stop home and grab it, Eddie waiting outside, offering to drop him off. He wasn't expecting Hopper, in uniform talking to his mother. He wasn't expecting Joyce Byers to be sitting next to the almost canatonic Steve, fussing over him, wrapping bandages over large gashes on his arm and shoulder. There were bruises everywhere, arms, stomach, face.

No one noticed him yet. And he was freaking out. He needed to tell Eddie, he needed to understand what was happening. Most of all, he needed Steve to be okay. Steve looked different. These weren't battle wounds from the upside down or Russians. This was something worse.

Without thinking, he runs back out the door to Eddie’s car, everyone but Steve looking up as the door slammed shut. Eddie immediately saw the panic in Dustin's face. He gets out of the car.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Eddie asks

"It's Steve...." and for the first time since Eddie knew Dustin, it looked like this was to much for him. Unfortunately, Eddie wasn't much help, panic filling him at the sound of his boyfriend's name being spoken like that. Steve can’t be hurt, Steve was supposed to be waiting for him at his trailer."What do you mean? Dustin...What is happening?"

They came home unexpectedly. Steve was just stopping by his seldom lived in home to grab some clothes and a few VHS tapes he wanted to show Eddie. But they came home. His father called him into the kitchen. He looked angry. His mother sat silently by, not even looking at him.

"Had a conversation with Mr. Hagan. He said Tommy told him you were hanging out with that murderer, Eddie Munson." His dad says.

"He's not a murderer and he's my friend." Steve says plainly, hoping they don't know more.

"Cut the bullshit, Steven. Tommy saw you two kissing behind the movie theater like a couple of faggots." Mr Harrington says sternly, the cruel word leaving his lips.

"Tommy doesn't know what he's talking about." Steve tries to brush him off.

Suddenly Mr Harrington is on his feet grabbing Steve’s shoulder hard enough to bruise. From this distance Steve can smell the alcohol on his father’s breath. "I don’t like liars, Steven. " he crushes his grip further into Steve’s shoulder making Steve wince at the pain. "You are to stopping seeing Eddie. Even you deserve better than trash like that. And no son of mine will be a faggot."

The toxic words hurt Steve more than his father’s grip. "No? Then I'm not your son. Eddie is a better person than you will ever be and I fucking love him." He spits.

With that Steve is on the floor, when he tries to get back up his father pushes him back down landing painful punches through out his body, the trauma leaving bruises and open wounds. He grabbed a beer bottle from near by when Steve tried to fight back, busting it over his head and digging the jagged end of the bottle into his shoulder. When Mr Harrington finally stands up, he lands one more painful kick to Steve's stomach. "Get out! Get the fuck out here now. You are going to fucking die you know? All you fags eventually die of AIDs. Good riddance And don't take the car, it's in my name." His mother sat quietly doing nothing.

Steve can barely make out what his dad said, just knowing he had to leave. He struggles to get himself up, limping painfully to the door, holding his torso. He is vaguely aware of the blood trailing down his body.

He makes it outside. He doesn’t have a plan on where to go. He just starts walking, but eventually 3 blocks later walking gets hard, and he collapses cradling his stomach. He throws up, it's too much. But then a car drove by, headlights hitting him. It's Claudia.

"Oh my God, Steve!" She says getting out of the car. He can't even respond. He lets her usher him into her car, taking him back to her house. He knows she calls the ambulance(and the Sherriff, Hopper.) She asks him what happened but he can't talk. Everything is too much.

Joyce shows up with Hopper, delicately pulling him into a hug. He doesn't fight it. He is aware Claudia is talking to Hopper, aware of Joyce, but he just wants to die. This wasn't supposed a burden. He wasn't supposed to make this there problem.

But he hurts. His body is on fire. And the thoughts of his parents finally confirming what he already knew, that they do not love him, is destroying him. His father thinks he'll die of AIDS.

A thought crosses his mind. Oh no, he was supposed to meet Eddie. Eddie is going to worry. He tries to speak but finds that no words come out. Then he hears the door slam but he can't acknowledge it. Moments later he loses consciousness.

As Dustin stands at Eddie’s car trying to explain what he saw, they both see an ambulance pull up. Thier worry gets worse, both instinctively follow the paramedics inside. There they see it. Steve unconscious on the couch, Claudia, Joyce and even Hopper panicking. They all watch helplessly as Steve is loaded on a bed and rushed out of the house.

They all crowd into Claudia's car except Hoper, giving them a police escort to avoid the lights. It's a long night of waiting in the ER, as doctors try to stabilize blood loss and the concussion. The waiting room gets fuller as Dustin and Eddie get ahold of thier friends. Around 4am, the doctor comes out, says he's stable but sleeping. Tells them they could go home. Of course, none if them do.

When the hospital tries to say that it's family only for staying over, Hopper flashes his badge. All of them crowd into a tiny hospital room.

Steve wakes up around 8am. His head is killing him and the rest of his body doesn't feel much better. He's bandaged up covering the wounds from the glass. He feels tight bandages against what he is sure is broken ribs. Memories from last night flash into his head, guilt and shame flooding in.

He feels a weight against him. He turns his head gently to see Eddie laying next to him in the small hospital bed. Eddie is careful to lay against but not aggravate any of Steve's wounds. He carefully looks around, and he wants to cry, not sure out of happiness or guilt.

All his frineds were there...his family, asleep. Joyce and Hopper were crowded onto a hospital pull out cot. Robin took the chair near his bed, Nancy on the floor with her head in her lap. Claudia sleeps in a chair in the corner. The kids, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, Will, El, and even Erica were sleeping against the wall on the floor. Jonathan and Argyle were even there, sleeping against the other wall.

His movements must have been enough to wake Eddie, who admittedly could barely sleep anyways. When he sees Steve is up, he whispers "Thank God..."

This is enough for Steve to look at him. Yellow and brown bruises staining his beautiful features, and Eddie, afraid to touch him, carefully puts his hand against Steve's cheek. "Baby..." He whimpers, on the edge of tears " I am so glad you are awake. I was so fucking scared, Stevie."

Steve tries to flash a smile but it falters when he sees the fear in Eddie's eyes. "I'm sorry...I didn't want to worry you."

"Oh sweetheart" Eddie coos, heartbroken that Steve is apologizing. "You have nothing to say sorry for. That bastard who did will be fucking sorry though." Eddie’s voice goes uncharacteristically dark, hatred boiling up for who ever did this.

"No Eds..." He whispers. "He isn't worth it.. "

"Who was it?" Eddie asks, fully intending on going after them.

"My dad..." He says softly. "And if you go after him, " his voice starts to shake "He's got the money to lock you up a long time....and then I'll lose you too. " A stray tear rolls down his face, causing Eddie to pull him in gently, whispering "Okay baby...I won't....you won't lose me."

Robin is the next to wake up, hearing Steve and Eddie talking. She immediately stands up, walking closer to the bed, waking up Nancy. "Steve..." her voice sounds hoarce, like she was actually crying.

Steve looks at her, and smiles "In the flesh..."

And just like that, she is ducking down hugging Steve. "You had me so worried, dingus." Steve wraps his arms as tight as he can given the circumstances, not wanting to let go.

After they finally pull apart, Nancy is squeezing his hand saying. "I'm so glad you are okay..."

One by one they all wake up, relief covering their faces seen Steve awake. Claudia immediately offers her home, knowing about the Harringtons and taking an educated guess on what happened, suspicions confirmed when Steve has to give his statement to Hopper.

Dustin's eyes were blood shot when he woke up, obviously having cried. He see came up to Steve, smiling but a little tear still in his eyes, seeing Steve like this. Steve flashes him a smile "Going soft on me, Henderson." He jokes.

"Shut up." He laughs before leaning down and hugging Steve. "I am so glad you are alive. Who else is going to drive me around?" He laughs but hugs Steve like his life depended on it.

The other teenagers all hug Steve, so happy he is alive. Everytime Steve tries to apologize for making them worry, they brush them off.

Over the next week, Steve stays at the hospital to recover. They all pop in to visit, with Robin, Eddie and Dustin practically living there. Unfortunately, due to money and lawyers, his dad is going to get away with it.

But it's okay, he has his real family. He comes home to Claudia's house, guest bedroom set up for him. Eddie and Robin are there everyday helping him recover. Eddie even spends the night, just holding him, drowning away the nightmares he has replaying that night.

But overall he's happy. He has people that love him, he has "parents" that love him. He does not need Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. He has all the love he needs right here.

#stranger things #steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #robin buckley #the party #claudia henderson #found family #steve harrington has bad parents

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modelbus · 2 years

Note

can i please request a tommy x reader where the reader has a cat, a kid if you will, i just need some tommy interactions with his girlfriend’s cat 😭

I’m actually deathly allergic to cats so I had to ask my friends what cats do… they told me cats are either the devil reincarnated or cute fluffy guys, so let’s assume your cat is a cute fluffy guy.

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Gn!Reader

Cute Cat

Tommy is more of a dog person, but because the cat is important to you, he’ll tolerate it. If your cat is nice, he’ll warm up to it after a few visits, but if your cat is mean he’ll call it Satan and rant about it on stream.

He will refuse to call your cat anything but pussy. It’s gotten so bad that your cat responds to pussy as a name more often than its actual name.

“Here Pussy, Pussy!” Tommy yells.

“You know that’s not-“ you begin but get cut off by a loud meow coming from somewhere. “THE FUCK?!” Your cat doesn’t even respond to its actual name, but it’ll respond to pussy?!

If your cat ever scratches him, accidentally or on purpose, he definitely complains about it on stream like “HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT THAT EVIL MOTHERFUCKER DID TO ME?! WIL, WILBUR, IT TRIED TO KILL ME!”

He talks to it like it’s an actual person though, creeping you out sometimes.

“Stop staring at me like that, mate. I think you’ve got a staring problem.” Tommy points at your cat with the TV remote, “close them eyes before they dry out king. I know I’m hot, but you can’t have me. I’m a taken man.”

He's mean to your cat constantly as a defense mechanism because he’s meant to be a dog person. Don't worry though, he secretly loves your cat.

And he keeps trying to show off your cat to streams, constantly badgering you until you just give in.

His Twitter and Instagram are occasionally graced with cat photos, which he also uses as a sub goal.

The first time your cat brought a dead animal to you while he was there was certainly traumatizing for him...

"Hey Puss- what's in your mouth?" Tommy asks, cutting himself off.

"Huh?" You hum, turning to look at your beloved cat. All too used to owning a cat, you immediately recognize the dead animal being deposited on your carpet.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Tommy, don't freak out, okay?"

"IS THAT A FUCKING MOUSE?! IS IT DEAD?! YOUR CAT IS A MURDERER!"

Despite the trauma your cat has put him through, he still loves to play with it. His favorite is definitely one of those dangly feather things because he's amazed at how high your cat can jump.

Although he is very sick and tired of your cat trying to fight his feet and sitting on his shoes.

Tommy convinced you one time to get your cat "high" on catnip, which ended in a very weird Tik Tok.

"No, no, no, trust me. It's just a little catnip. He'll only get a little high."

"A LITTLE HIGH?! YOU WANT TO GET MY CHILD HIGH?!"

After you make a big deal out of it, he buys something for your cat's birthday like a good boyfriend <3

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #mcyt #dsmp #tommyinnit #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit imagine #gn!reader

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beardedjoel · 11 months

Text

closer | part nine

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: your friend sofia is visiting austin, and she drags you out for drinks and dancing, where you have some unexpected surprises in the form of joel. 12.8k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, squirting, dirty talk, praise kink, reader being cute and teasing joel a bunch, joel is so insanely boyfriend this chapter it actually fucking hurts

a/n: this is probably one of my favorite chapters i wrote! it’s a lengthy one too so hope you all enjoy the sofia and joel shenanigans ♡

You’re very deliberately letting Joel come to you tonight. After his promise earlier today, you want to see what he’ll do, how far he’ll go. The thought of all the possibilities alone has your head spinning and heart pounding.

Now all that’s left to do is wait, to anticipate, unsure of when he’ll make good on his word and come take what he wants from you. You put on a gorgeous, silky lace trimmed powder blue slip that barely covers your ass and tits, leaving practically nothing to the imagination.

You get in bed, thinking if you just pretend to sleep, it’ll come to you more quickly. You want Joel to come in and see you sleeping innocently, maybe seemingly forgetting about what he promised you today. You bet it would rile him up even more, and the thought makes you laugh and then shiver slightly. But he should know better that you wouldn’t forget that when the promise of his cock being inside you is involved.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but the next thing you know, your eyes flutter open gently and you know it’s been hours. All night, actually. The pale dawn light is streaming in through your shades, signaling the start of a new day. You stretch a little, rolling over before everything from last night comes back to you, hitting you hard right in the gut.

Joel never came.

The disappointment sinks deep into your stomach, leaving a swirling, nauseous sensation. You try not to get too caught up in it, but your mind is immediately latching onto all the possibilities, most of them making your heart sink further. It’s entirely possible you had read him wrong, that what he said wasn’t a promise to come over at all. You cling onto the hope that it’s something easily explainable that you can hear about the next time you see him. You reach for your phone, seeing he hadn’t messaged you at all last night. Your fingers twitch over your phone screen, feeling desperate to reach out and make sure everything is alright.

A frantic, solid knock on your door gets your attention, and you slide out of bed, rolling your eyes as you catch a glimpse of your slip out in your periphery. You’d even gone so far as to dress up for him, and you feel completely foolish for it.

You whip open your door, and Joel is standing there, looking haggard. He seems out of breath, like he rushed over here. His mouth is open to speak, but his eyes move back and forth from your face to your slip several times before he shuts it, sighing.

“Oh, sweet girl, I’m so sorry,” he spills out, reaching forward and grabbing your face. You immediately usher him inside, not wanting to accidentally be seen by your parents. You try to fight the urge to completely give in to him the second he touches you, wanting to understand his absence from last night first. His warm, strong hands holding you so desperately is making it so fucking difficult, though. You don’t respond, don’t touch him back, as he pulls you into him.

“It was Tommy, I’m so sorry,” he says.

“Is Tommy okay?” you ask, concerned. The tension in his voice and mention of his brother immediately snaps you out of your frustration at him.

“Yeah, it’s nothin’ like that. He needed to get bailed out… again,” Joel says, sounding exasperated. “That’s why I didn’t come last night, all of it took longer than normal. Fightin’ with the fuckin’ officers since he’s been in more than a few times the last few years. All of it got so… out of hand.” He sighs, melting into you as you finally reach up around him and hug him back.

“I’m sorry, Joel. That sounds like an awful night,” you reply, feeling a wave of relief for yourself rush through you, and one of worry for Tommy. “Everything’s alright now, though?”

“Yeah, bastard’s back home, no thanks to himself,” Joel says, lingering frustration lacing his tone. “Swear, one of these days, he’s gonna have to deal with it on his own. That’s enough about that though,” he says, leaning back to grab the sides of your cheeks and look down at you. His eyes look tired, almost hurt as they search yours for any clue as to how you’re feeling. “I should’ve texted to let you know, too. I was so damn mad I just couldn’t even think straight, if I’m bein’ honest. I’m sorry, darlin’,” Joel adds, as if reading your mind. That question had been on the tip of your tongue, wondering why he hadn’t just messaged you to fill you in.

“That’s okay, Joel, it’s really alright,” you assure him, touching your hand to his. “That’s the only reason you didn’t come, though? All that stuff with Tommy?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip nervously after you ask.

“Of course, baby. Why else wouldn’t I come?” Joel tilts his head in concern, eyes still glued onto yours.

“I just… wasn’t sure. I was worried I’d read too much into it.”

“If you don’t think I'd rather have been here all night doin’ everything I planned to do to you, you’re out of your damn mind,” Joel says, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Planned to do to me?” you echo, furrowing your brow with curiosity.

“You have no idea…” he sighs, stroking your cheek. “I have a lot to make up to you.” He leans down and brushes his lips onto yours, kissing you lightly for a few moments.

The confirmation from Joel that he had wanted to be here last night lifts the weight off your chest that had been there since you woke up and realized he wasn’t there with you. You finally crack a little smile, and it looks like his own expression lightens.

“I don’t think making it up to me will be a problem,” you tease, running a hand lightly down his chest, and Joel chuckles.

“Tonight?” he asks eagerly.

You wince a little, then press your lips together and sigh. “My friend from Chicago is coming today, I have to pick her up in a few hours, and she’ll be here all weekend,” you tell him.

Joel considers this new information for a few moments, his hands tracing along your hips and back. “You excited to see her?”

You nod, unable to help the smile spreading across your face. “I am, yeah. This is my closest friend for the entire time I lived there. We even lived together for a bit.”

He now seems to be smiling for your sake. “That’s great,” he says, looking excited for you. “I bet you’ll have a good time together, then.”

“She’s practically the opposite of me, totally outgoing and crazy, so we always end up finding something fun to do when she’s in charge,” you say, laughing a little.

“You sayin’ you aint fun?” Joel chides, pulling his brows together. “I think you’re plenty fun,” he says, pulling you close to him again so that your bodies are flush with each other.

“Oh, you think so, huh?” you tease, feeling a flirtatious smile tug at your lips.

Joel nods, bringing his lips close to you, brushing against your cheek, then making his way down to your neck. He places a few light kisses downwards towards your collarbone.

“Can’t make it up to you tonight, but I can certainly give you a little taste right now,” he murmurs close to your ear. You feel your body immediately melt into his, pressing into his solid body, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

“I was just about to take a shower…” you say as an invitation, your voice going low with the desire suddenly flowing through you. Joel answers by picking you up from underneath, carrying you into your bathroom before setting you on the counter, letting your legs straddle his body as he pushes in between them.

“You even wore all your pretty stuff for me, huh?” he says, looking down at your slip and examining it more closely, running a finger along the lace trim at the top, dangerously close to your nipples. You inhale sharply as he brushes over them in the process, and he catches his eyes on yours. “Such a shame I didn’t get to play with you all night wearin’ this…” he breathes out with a shake of his head. He pushes the slip all the way up your legs and marvels at the matching thong you’re wearing.

“I’m gonna kill my brother,” he says sternly before hooking his fingers into the straps of your underwear and tugging down - you lift your hips to help him and he promptly tosses your panties on the floor. He tugs your hips to the edge of the counter and kneels before you, sinking his mouth between your legs and tasting you. His tongue licks a stripe up your slit and you push your hips into it, the first few touches of his mouth feeling like absolute heaven. You breathe out a moan and Joel makes an appreciative noise in response to you.

“Fuckin’ wet already, sweet girl,” he says quietly, pulling his mouth off of you for a moment.

“I was waiting for you all night, of course I’m wet,” you say plainly, and Joel smirks up at you, a fire igniting behind his eyes.

“Never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” he asks before leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue in a few, quick strokes. Your hips tense and move into it, but you try to keep your composure to mess with him.

You laugh a little and then shake your head. “We’ll see,” you tease him, “Depends on how well you make it up to me.”

Much to your dismay, Joel stops moving his tongue immediately, then brings his gaze back up to your face, the look in his eyes completely devilish now. “Oh, really? You gonna be a little brat again when I’ve got my mouth between your legs, about to make you come? I could stop at any time, y’know.” He swipes a finger through your slit to tease you, adding to the effect of his words.

You lick your lips and inhale slowly, considering your options. The ache between your legs from his few touches is already almost unbearable, pulsing with need for him to continue.

“N-no, don’t stop,” you say, whisper-quiet, and Joel’s brow arches.

“What was that?” he asks, fingers now teasingly tracing around the outside of your pussy.

“I said don’t stop.” You force your voice a bit louder, closing your eyes as he glides one of his fingers over your clit.

“Good girls say ‘please’, don’t they?” he says, every word laced with the gorgeous, commanding bite that you’ve grown to adore and crave from him.

“P-please,” you say, swallowing hard. “Please don’t stop, Joel.”

“That’s what I thought,” he drawls, teasing your clit once more. “Really needed to teach you that lesson last night, didn’t I?”

His mouth is back on you, and you can only nod in response as he licks in strokes along your cunt, long and drawn out. You whimper, wanting to feel more, and he continues to draw this painful pleasure out of you, dipping his tongue in and out of your entrance and tasting you deeply. His tongue flicks along your slit, landing on your clit before his entire mouth sucks on the bundle of nerves there. You cry out, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sucks even harder. You almost can’t breathe, the sensation is so strong and he’s not letting up. You grip the back of his head, fingers sinking into his hair, when he releases you and your breath catches in your throat, hips rocking forward with the sudden absence of his mouth. He slides his tongue in tight circles around your clit, bringing out the warm, spreading feeling of a building climax inside your core. Your body is tensing into it already, on the cusp of something so fucking incredible that only Joel can bring out of you, when his lips close again and suck mercilessly.

You cry out loudly, moaning as your grip on his hair tightens, making sure his head doesn’t move an inch from where he’s currently uprooting your entire world. Everything tenses and explodes at once, your hips pushing into his mouth as you tremble, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over before you can finally relax back slightly, steading your breathing.

Joel stands, placing his hands on your thighs and leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. “”Off to the shower with you,” he says.

“You’re not joining me?” you ask, blinking in your post-orgasm stupor, confusion written on your face now.

“I’m already pushin’ it with time, I gotta get to work, baby,” he says apologetically, and you frown, disappointed that this short time was all you got to spend with him after the let down of last night.

“Oh, alright,” you mumble, biting the inside of your lip again.

“I know you’re upset, I’m sorry, darlin’. I promised I’d make it all up to you, though. You trust me?”

You nod, a small smile cracking through the frustration you’re feeling. “Yeah, I trust you.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your lips quickly. “Give it a few days, and when you’re free again you’ll forget this even happened.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, despite the little flutter it gives you.

When he leaves, you sit on the counter for a few more minutes, silently processing the entirety of this morning and last night. You’re unable to feel anything but warmth for the man who’d rushed over here to apologize to you as soon as he could, and then shown that apology by pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you and promising to do better, to make things up to you. You almost wish you could just be angry at him for anything at all, it would certainly be easier than whatever the hell these emotions you’re having right now are.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you sigh, hugging Sofia again as you enter your apartment.

She arrived a few hours after Joel left this morning, and you picked her up from the airport, eagerly waiting for her outside her terminal before she ran into your arms like you were two lovers that had been separated for years. She’s always had a flair for the dramatic, but it’s part of what you love about her. Sofia knows how to see the good in most situations, and she’s one of the most loyal people you know. You couldn’t be seeing her at a better time, as you’re starting to get completely consumed by everything going on with Joel. You just really need a friend like her here to help you process the complex feelings that have been swirling through your mind recently.

She returns the hug and chuckles a bit into your ear. “Struggling that bad, huh?” she asks, pulling away from your embrace. You both sit down on your bed, pulling your legs underneath you and getting comfortable.

“It’s not even that, I’m just like this crazy, obsessed girl, and you know I’m not like that ever,” you tell her. Sofia ponders it with a thoughtful look and then nods her head.

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen you obsessing over any guy, until now,” she smirks. Sofia loves this kind of thing - she’s absolutely enjoying your escapades with Joel a little too much, you think. She’s usually the one filling you in on her sexual adventures with people, not the other way around.

“I know, and I hate it. I feel pathetic,” you groan, falling back into the bed dramatically.

“Okay, pathetic or not, you know I’m here for it. I haven’t heard any updates for a little bit, so…” she trails off, looking over at you expectantly. You haven’t said anything, pressing your lips together tightly, giving her an innocent look. “Come on, you know I’m asking if you guys fucked yet.”

You sit back up and nod slightly, biting your lip, and she goes crazy. “Oh my god! Okay and? Tell me everything.”

“Okay, I’m not giving you every single detail, Jesus. But yeah, it was pretty much the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Sofia groans. “Ughhh, why aren’t I having the best sex ever with my sexy, forbidden, older neighbor? Count your blessings,” she shakes her head, eyes wide. You both start laughing, clutching your bellies.

“Your time will come, Soph. And I’ll be there to guide you.”

“Okay, so you two have done the deed. And it was amazing? Tell me just a little more. C’mon, I haven’t hardly gotten a peep out of you about this yet.” She crosses her arms, waiting for you to answer. Her light brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t resist the desperate plea for information that’s behind them.

“Fine,” you sigh, and she squeals, clasping her hands together. “We’ve… done it a couple of times. Lots of other hand and mouth stuff before that. He eats me out like it’s his last fucking meal, is known to give a good spanking, uh, what else…” you trail off, trying to overload her with information, and her jaw hangs open, rarely hearing this much brazen information from you about any of your sexual encounters. ”He just makes me do and feel crazy stuff,” you conclude, trying to shrug casually despite knowing the wild knowledge you’re dropping on her.

Sofia simply shakes her head, mouth hanging open as she processes the information. “You two are little fucking freaks, you know that? God, I envy you right now.”

“Sofia, you honestly fuck more than anyone I know, how are you jealous?”

“I’m in a little dry spell, okay? I haven’t had any… relations for over a month.”

“A whole month, heaven forbid,” you tease her, putting the back of your hand to your forehead, acting dramatically faint.

She laughs loudly and pushes you hard. “Shut up, I’m desperate,” she replies. “It’s your turn to be the crazy sexual one now, so wear the crown with honor.”

You roll your eyes but placate her with a regal bow of your head. “Come on, let’s go shopping,” you say, and she perks up immediately, jumping off the bed and completely forgetting about her so-called ‘dry spell’.

Sofia catches up with your parents for a few minutes, having met them when they came to visit you in Chicago, before you let them know where you’re going and head out. Sofia is eyeing Joel’s house curiously as you pull out of the driveway.

“Yes, that’s his house, the one with the big porch,” you grumble, and she can’t stop smirking at you.

“Hot,” she says.

“What does that even mean! His house is hot? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. Ridiculous you still haven’t shown me a photo. Everything you say about him sounds hot, though.” Sofia rolls her eyes. She’s so ridiculous, and you missed her energy since you relocated here. You can’t believe she came all the way here so soon after you moved, and in the middle of a Texas summer, no less. You’re hoping she can keep you anchored a bit while she’s here, but you know for a fact she’s very likely to do the opposite with her blasée personality and encouragement of you being the one to go a little crazy.

You two shop for a few hours, and of course Sofia ends up with several new outfits, claiming that it’s too hot here for all her clothes she brought. She makes you try on dresses because she’s desperate to have a night out with you while she’s here, and you cringe at first, but find a rather tight black dress with a low cut back and little cutouts on the sides that makes you actually feel like going out. She squeals when she sees it, and you can’t help but immediately wonder what Joel would think of it, but you think you already know the answer.

“Mr. Hot Neighbor is going to lose his fucking mind if he sees you in that dress you got,” Sofia says on the way home, as if she could read your thoughts.

“I do… think he’d like it, based on the other clothes he’s liked on me,” you admit a little shyly.

Sofia sighs. “Ugh, that’s so hot.”

“Stop saying everything about us is hot,” you laugh.

“But it is! You two are so hot it’s killing me. When am I going to meet him?” She’s bouncing a bit eagerly in her seat now.

You pause, feeling your eyes widen. You honestly hadn’t really thought about it, assuming you wouldn’t see Joel much for a few days while Sofia was visiting. The thought of introducing them makes you feel a little nauseous, just because it’s like two worlds colliding, and you know Sofia will have something completely insane to say to him.

“I actually don’t know…” you confess. “Maybe we’ll run into him since he lives right there.”

Sofia eyes you, knowing you are starting to overthink things, so she stays quiet on the matter. When you pull up you see Joel’s truck is in his driveway, eliciting a comment from Sofia that even his truck is sexy, but you don’t see any sign of Joel outside, so the coast seems clear. You two are laughing with your shopping bags, passing through the gate to go back to your apartment, when you see Joel walking out his front door and making his way over to his truck parked in the driveway. You bite back a groan, knowing he’s going to see you and Sofia, and you desperately want to avoid the awkwardness.

Joel approaches, smiling, and Sofia stops her chattering to turn and see what you’re looking at over her shoulder. “Oh…” she says quietly under her breath. “Oh,” she repeats, with a bit more suggestion behind her voice as she continues to inspect Joel.

“Well hello there,” he says, coming up where you’re now standing and waiting for him. His face looks entertained at the fact that you seem completely uncomfortable and embarrassed about where this is going.

“Joel, this is my friend Sofia. The one I told you about,” you say, trying not to grit your teeth.

“Pleasure,” Joel says with a thick accent, holding out his hand, and Sofia shakes it with the biggest smile on her face. Joel’s eyebrows twitch at the suspiciously large smile on your friend’s face and he glances at you for confirmation.

You nod slightly with a slight eye roll, letting him know that yes, Sofia knows all about you two.

“It’s so great to meet you. Thanks for being such a good neighbor to my friend here,” she says, her tone sweet but the devious implication behind it is not missed on any of you. You snort out a laugh, and it sends Sofia cracking up, Joel shaking his head slightly but laughing along with you two.

“What’re you ladies up to?” Joel asks, continuing to shake his head a little.

“Shopping,” Sofia announces excitedly, waving her bags around. “I think you’ll be very pleased with some of our purchases,” she says, and Joel’s eyebrows raise. Jesus, you think to yourself, she’s being so… Sofia right now.

Joel chuckles, looking to you for confirmation, and you giggle a little bit. “I can’t deny that she’s right,” you tell him, and a look of curiosity flashes across his face. You did also buy a thong that you’re dying to show him, but that’s going to have to wait.

“Well, you two ladies have fun,” he quips, the smile not leaving his face.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around while I’m here,” Sofia winks, and you can’t even be mad at her for it because you know the winking is all on your own behalf. You practically drag her up the stairs, waving to Joel as you go.

You burst through the door of your apartment, and Sofia immediately pretends to pass out on the floor. So damn dramatic, you think with amusement.

“Oh my fucking god,” she says, her chest heaving from the laughter. “That man… that is who you’re sleeping with right now? Like, you are fucking that man right there?” Sofia is completely beside herself.

“Get a grip, Soph. Yes, somehow I’m fucking that man.”

“Listen, I didn’t doubt you when you said he was hot, but this is another level,” she says, propping herself up on her elbows.

“You’re telling me!” you reply. “How the hell did I even end up in this situation?” you ask, more to yourself than anyone, but Sofia shakes her head.

She blows out a breath, getting to her feet. “Good for you, seriously,” she says, gripping you by the shoulders and shaking them.

“Oh, it’s very good for me,” you quip, and you both start laughing all over again.

The next evening, Sofia has managed to convince you to go out downtown and find a bar or club to blow off some steam. She says that you “need this” since you seem so tightly wound about the Joel situation, and you think she might be right.

You’re sitting on the floor with Sofia across from you while she does your makeup. She’s infinitely better at this than you are, and she makes you look flawless anytime she puts makeup on for you.

“Okay, so how big is it?” she asks, seemingly out of nowhere as she’s brushing highlighter onto your cheekbones.

“No way,” you say, shaking your head with a tight lipped smile.

She pulls back, holding her hands up, makeup brush still held in between her fingers.. “Just stop me when it’s the right size,” she says, expanding her hands outwards, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s big,” you reply simply, and she throws her hands down in exasperation.

“Fine, I’ll accept that answer. For now,” she scowls.

Sofia continues on your makeup, until she scoots back a little and gives you a once over. “Perfection,” she comments, giving you a proud smile. You stand up, going to the mirror in the bathroom to inspect her work. She’s done a perfect winged eyeliner with a smoky, sparkly eyeshadow look, blush, highlighter, and given you just the right lipstick color to tie it all together with your new dress. You marvel at how good you look and feel right now, starting to actually look forward to your night out together.

“Always perfect, Soph,” you say, tousling your hair a bit. She comes over and stands next to you, inspecting the both of you in the mirror together with an excited look on her face.

When you make your way out to the street, you both decide to order a ride so you don’t have to drive after the drinks you plan on having. You’re both standing there at the end of the driveway, waiting for the car that’s still several minutes away when Sofia turns to you.

“Why don’t you go show Joel your new look?” she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t that be weird, though? Just knock on his door and be like ‘look at me!’ and then run away in a few minutes when our ride gets here?”

“You said he’d like that dress, and not to toot my own horn but… you just look so good right here too,” she gestures a circle around your face with her hand, and you laugh. “Go,” she pushes you, then checks her phone. “It says this guy is still like 5 minutes away.”

You begrudgingly trot over to Joel’s, feeling a little unsteady on your heels - you haven’t worn shoes like this for a while. You reach your hand up tentatively and knock on his door. There’s no answer for a moment, increasing your anxiety but finally the door opens, and Joel’s eyes scan you, a quick flash of recognition crosses his face and his mouth hangs open, unable to speak for a moment.

“Shit… now what the hell is goin’ on here?” he smirks, taking you in with slow glances over your entire body, and the way he’s taking you in feels like it’s setting your skin on fire.

“Sofia is dragging me out, and I wanted to show you how I look,” you wring your hands in front of you, trying hard to maintain a confident air about yourself.

“Christ, that’s a look for sure, baby,” he says, continuing to inspect every inch of your body in this new dress. “Sure you can’t just stay here and let me look at ya all night?”

You giggle a bit. “Tragically, no.”

“S’alright, I’m actually goin’ out tonight too,” he tells you, and you try to shake off the creeping jealous feeling that sneaks in at wondering who he’s going out with. You know it’s hypocritical, but infatuation with Joel doesn’t seem to have any logic.

“Come here real quick,” he says, pulling you by the hand inside and just behind the door, leaving it ajar. His hands immediately go to your ass, pulling you into him and crashing his lips into yours, and both of your mouths open as your tongues slide over each other. One of Joel’s hands threads through your hair, and you’re gripping the back of his neck desperately as you two passionately devour each other for a few moments.

He pulls away, breathless. “Fuck, I know you gotta go,” he says. You nod, your eyes already filled with unrelenting desire as you look back at him.

“You’ll see this again, I promise,” you tell him, hesitantly pulling out of his arms and shooting him a wry look.

“I better,” he replies, smirking as he watches you make your way back over to Sofia, who is waving you over into the car.

You feel your phone buzz in your bag, and Joel is texting you once the car is down the street.

Joel: You look beautiful, by the way. I didn’t say when you were here.

You: Thank you ❤️

Joel: Where are you two going?

You: Some crazy bar downtown. Called Cowgirls? I think?

Joel: Don’t get too wild now 😉

You: I’m always going to be a good girl for you, you know that

Joel: Don’t get me started, baby. The outfit was already too much for me tonight

You: If you’re lucky, I’ll let you take this dress off of me sometime 😘

Joel: Not if I’m lucky

Joel: I will be taking that dress off of you

You start to feel flush, knowing that if this conversation continues you’re going to start getting a little too worked up to handle in the back of this stranger's car, so you breathe out and reign yourself in. Your phone buzzes once more, and you look down at it.

Joel: Have a great time tonight 🤠

Sofia eyes you curiously with a knowing smile as you have been smiling down at your phone for the last few minutes.

“I take it he liked the dress?” she asks, a brow arched in curiosity.

“Once again, you were right. He’s dying right now, I just know it,” you laugh.

“As he should be!” Sofia replies. “Don’t think I can’t tell you two just made out behind his door,” she whispers, eyes staring at your mouth. You slowly reach a hand up to touch your lips, and Sofia nods, confirming that your lipstick absolutely needs touching up.

You feel yourself get hot, embarrassed, starting to work on it using your phone camera. “Sorry,” you grumble, and Sofia laughs.

“No need to be sorry. You know I support this, right?” she says, more sincerely now. You glance over at her and catch her eye, smiling gratefully.

“You’ve definitely made that clear,” you tease her, but then sober up a bit. “Thank you,” you tell her, and she returns your beaming smile.

You and Sofia are on your second drink at the bar, plus a shot of tequila when you first got there, so you’re feeling… well, great. This bar is some kind of weird, bar-club hybrid it seems, because they have a small dance floor and music playing, but it seems people are into it, as it’s completely packed. Sofia drags you out and you two dance together, laughing the whole time. You’re feeling fun and alive and sexy and it flows through you with the rhythm of the music. You and Sofia eventually step away for a refill on your drinks and you quickly pull out your phone and open your messages with Joel, knowing it’s a bad idea when slightly inebriated but doing it anyway.

You: I miss youuuuuuu

You: I like you so muchh

Sofia orders drinks, and a young, attractive guy around your age with dark hair and blue eyes approaches you two and you try not to snort, excited to see Sofia flirting in action. It’s always a highlight of your night to learn some tips from her this way. You pretend to be interested in what he’s saying to you two, but then your phone goes off, vibrating in your bag.

Joel: Oh so we’re having lots of fun already, huh?

You: So fun I love Sofia so much we’re dancing and it’s the best

You: But I haven’t fucked you in two days and I’mm sad 🥺🥺🥺

Joel: We’ll fix that problem soon, baby… Just try to enjoy your night

You: But I’m being your good girl. Some guy is talking to us and I don’t caree cause I like you

You: Wanna feell you inside me

Joel: That’s all you’re thinking about, huh? Insatiable girl

You: Ignoring him to text you.. Sofia is a better flirt than me anyways and you’re hotter

Joel: Be my good girl and stop taunting me or else I’ll have to come there and fuck you in that sexy dress

You: Then I’m badddddd so you’ll come fuck me

You don’t get a response from Joel, so you sigh and put your phone away, tuning into the conversation at hand. You’re jumping in at a completely random spot, the guy hitting on Soph seems to completely have given up on you, and you don’t blame him as you’ve been on your phone the last few minutes looking completely uninterested. You catch Sofia’s eye and give her a wink before feeling just tipsy enough to get on the dancefloor by yourself. You don’t know how much time has passed but you’re enjoying the hell out of yourself while vaguely keeping an eye on Sofia in case she needs an out from this conversation. Either way, the Gemini in her loves an opportunity to hone her flirting skills, even if it doesn’t lead anywhere.

You suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around you, and you almost thrash a little, unable to believe that someone would be so forward with you, but then you remember you are out at a kind of skeevy bar. You know you’re not taken, technically single, you suppose. but you don’t want a random stranger, you want Joel. You blink hard and furrow your brow when you turn to chew this person out but stop short when you see it is Joel. He looks so damn good, a beautiful glow on his skin from all the time he spends outside, his dark hair is brushed off his face and into slightly messy, curling swoops over the top of his head. He has on dark jeans and a white linen button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone. You can barely believe someone could look so sexy as you ogle him.

“Wh- Joel?” you say, feeling your quickly blinking eyes go wide. You know you’re drunk, but not so drunk you’d imagine him there, right?

“Come here, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you, swaying with the beat for a moment as he holds you and slides his tongue into your mouth. You melt into it, feeling everything soften as you bite his lip gently. Joel brushes his fingers through your hair, landing on the back of your head and pulling you even deeper into the kiss.

“What’s goin’ on here mister?” you slur, giggling slightly, and the look Joel gives you makes you stomach flip. He’s amused but turned on, you can see just by the way his eyes are lighting up right now. He leans in close now, his lips right next to your ears, and you breathe in with anticipation for his next words.

“If you haven’t learned by now, baby, I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t say things I don’t mean. So when I say if you don’t stop tauntin’ me then I’m going to come fuck you in this dress, I fuckin’ mean it,” he says, every word charged with pent up desire and lust. You breathe out shakily, and before you can craft a response through your slower, tipsy mind, Joel suddenly threads his fingers through yours, pulling you through the crowd of people. You’re following along blindly, still a bit stunned by his words and the fact that he actually came.

He pulls you into a bathroom, and you open your mouth to say something, but still find that nothing is coming out. A few people eye you from the sinks as he pulls you along and into a stall, and you give them an anxious, apologetic look, despite the fact that they look slightly impressed by what’s going on.

Joel latches the door behind you two and dives in, his lips immediately on yours, then trailing down to your neck. You’re definitely still buzzed, and the haze of it is adding to the moment, feeling like you’re just able to be completely free and let Joel do this to you without any worries. You let out a breathy moan as he flicks his tongue right at the top of your neck, near your ear.

“I’ve missed you,” you breathe out. Despite it being barely even days since you’d last truly spent any time together, you’d already gotten too used to seeing him as often as you were.

“So I’ve heard. What’d you miss, sweet thing?” He’s not wasting a moment, his tongue and lips traveling all around your neck and down to your chest now. You arch yourself into him, and one hand reaches up to squeeze your breast while the other squeezes your ass, eliciting a quiet groan from him as he does it.

“Missed being with you,” you say breathless and quiet, trying to keep it as low profile as you can in this very public bathroom. “Missed your big cock inside of me.” You are completely flattened against the wall, leaning your head back while he continues moving his lips over you, using the way you’re exposing your neck more as an opportunity to kiss everywhere he can there.

Joel groans again, pushing his hips into you. “Yeah, I bet you did, my fuckin’ cock hungry girl, wanting to be fucked all hours of the day.”

“Mhm,” you manage to make a noise, and you immediately notice the familiar feeling of your pussy beginning to ache for him, needing exactly what he’s saying. You need to be fucked, and right now.

“Is that what you want right now, baby? My cock inside of you?” he coos, and you nod, your eyes fluttering shut and head leaning back again as he reaches a hand into the top of your dress and rolls your nipple between his fingers. You try to bite back your moan as his other hand reaches up the bottom of your dress and drags a finger along your cunt outside of your underwear.

“Yeah…” he groans lightly, feeling your soaked panties. “That’s exactly what you want.”

You can only continue to nod as he undoes his belt and pants, pulling out his cock. One look at it sends another pulsing wave of desire through you and you press your hips forward towards it. Joel’s hands go underneath your thighs, pulling you up and pressing you even harder against the wall of the bathroom stall, and your breath hitches at how roughly he’s handling you. You help him by pulling your dress all the way up your thighs, and he peers down between the two of you, his already throbbing cock pressing against the fabric of your underwear. Your legs are tightly wrapped around him, pulling his hips in even closer, a silent ask for him to give you what you want.

He grunts, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his hips forward, the head finding your entrance and pushing in hard. You whimper and cry out, trying to bite down the sounds that threaten to come out of you as he slams his cock into you.

“Had to check that you’re still being a good girl for me tonight,” he says with a thrust of his hips, and you find that you like his obsession, his possession of you. You and him both know that you’d do anything to keep him calling you that, but the fact that he came all the way here because he couldn’t stand the sight of you in that dress without fucking you has your head spinning. You both have your vices, it seems.

“And am I?” you gasp desperately in a hushed tone.

His hips drive into you, sending him deeper and deeper, and you’re falling apart by the second.

“Oh yeah, look at you, taking all of me like that like the good girl you are,” he answers, looking down between your bodies and watching his cock enter you over and over. You shudder at his praises, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and bringing your head closer to him. He’s thrusting so hard, the build up of wanting this for the last few days taking over, and it’s no surprise when he starts to hit that spot inside of you that you love and crave.

“F-fuck Joel, oh my god,” you cry out, feeling yourself already wanting to clench around him.

“Already gonna come for me, sweet girl? Guess you did miss me,” he says with a smirk, and to devastate you further he reaches in between you two and rubs your clit, sending your hips lurching.

“Joel, I can’t…” you whimper, feeling a desperation rising up in you, more intense than usual. You claw at his back, trying not to release the loud moans that sit in your throat, so you reach a fist to your mouth and bite down.

“Oh baby, you can, look at how good you’re taking me, just let it out,” he praises, not letting up on his pace as he breathes and grunts with every single slam into your hips. “Let me feel you come on this cock, c’mon,” he urges you, rubbing your clit furiously as he pounds into you.

It’s an explosion, the pressure releasing as you shudder onto him, his hand holding you tightly against him and the wall behind you as your cunt squeezes around his cock, sending Joel moaning as well. He’s continuing his thrusts, pressing on your g-spot over and over with each one, and you almost feel like you could die with how intense this feels right now. He grunts, the feeling of you spasming around him sending him over the edge as well, and you feel him coming as his hips press all the way against you, his warmth pouring into you. You’re moaning into your clenched fist, seeing stars behind your closed eyelids and suddenly you feel something else. Like a gushing of something, almost like you’re peeing but not quite. Holy shit, you think with a chuckle as you come down from your climax, breathing heavily onto Joel’s chest.

“Damn, baby, did you just…squirt?” Joel chuckles, with a deeply satisfied grin on his face.

“I think so? Oh my god.” You let out a little laugh, still feeling the glow of your orgasm washing over you. He sets you down onto your shaky legs and you feel like a complete mess between your own wetness and Joel’s cum running out of you. Joel hands you some toilet paper with a sly grin and you try and wipe yourself off a bit.

“Never done that before?” he asks, leaning his forehead on yours.

You shake your head. “Never.”

“Good,” he says simply, tilting your head up for a kiss. “You know I like bein’ the only one.”

“I know,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I always want you to be the only one too.” You quickly realize through your drunken fog that what you’ve said could be completely misconstrued and scare Joel off or something. It’s true, you do want him to be the only one you’re seeing, but you don’t think that’s the agreement. You try to backtrack, slurring your words. “Th- the only one to, y’know, make me squirt in a gross bathroom.”

Joel chuckles, holding your cheek. “It’s okay, baby, I get it.”

You stare for a long moment into his eyes, so unreadable right now. Maybe you’re just imagining things, that he didn’t think the same way about your words as you did.

“Why don’t you go back out, I’ll be behind ya in a minute,” Joel finally says, and you force a smile to your lips and leave the stall.

You make your way back to the bar, where Sofia is still flirting with her random guy, sipping on her drink that he likely bought for her. You wrap your arm around her shoulder, squeezing her, and she turns enough to glance over at you. She does a double take, and then quickly excuses herself from her new handsome interest sitting at the bar.

“What’s all this? Did you just fuck someone?” she stares wide eyed, palms out in front of her as if to steady herself. She takes you in with her eyes as they dart to different parts of your body.

“What’re you even talking about?” you slur a little.

“Um, your hair is insane, your lipstick is… I don’t even want to get into that, and your dress is literally off kilter right now. I know a freshly fucked look when I see one.” She crosses her arms.

“Maybe I was dancing really hard,” you tease, and she smirks at you. You’re about to respond with the truth, when you feel two strong arms come from behind you and wrap around the front of your chest followed by Joel’s body leaning down into you until his chin is resting on your shoulder. The scent and feel of Joel immediately fills your senses and you give a guilty look over to Sofia, who has her mouth hanging open slightly.

Sofia scolds you, using your full name like an angry mother. “I can’t believe you two!” she says playfully.

“I didn’t ask him to come, he just…” you try to explain, knowing that you did practically ask him to meet you here in a way.

“Yeah right, I’d hope you asked him to come just now,” she calls out to you, chuckling at her own cleverness. You reach forward and push her, giggling in the way you only do when you’re tipsy.

“Sorry to interrupt girls night, but I heard you had your own man at the bar, so I figured,” Joel says, leaning even further over your shoulder to project his voice enough for Sofia to hear him. The rumble of his voice next to your ear always ends up sending a little shiver down your spine.

“I can’t even be mad because you two look so sexy together right now. And lord knows my best friend needs to get laid.” Sofia shakes her head, staring between you and Joel. You scoff playfully in disbelief, and Joel seems a little speechless at your friend's forward attitude.

“Well thanks for understandin’, and the compliment, I think.”

“So, are you some kind of stalker or something? I just need to check, since you showed up here,” Sofia asks suddenly, raising her eyebrows at Joel, resting her elbow on the bartop and placing her cheek in her hand as she looks him over.

“Stalker?” Joel laughs. “Lord, no. Just wanted to check on my girl,” he says, squeezing his arms a little tighter around you. The words ring through your head over and over, and you’re having a hard time focusing. My girl, he’d said, and it makes your heart feel like it’s skipping inside of your chest.

“Did more than check on her,” Sofia mumbles back, and both you and Joel chuckle.

“Alright, I’ll shoo now, you two have fun.” He squeezes you and kisses the top of your head, but when he pulls away you turn your head, grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back down. You kiss him long and deep, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Joel pulls off, shaking his head with that devilish grin he does when he’s turned on and forces himself to step back.

“Bye, ladies,” he calls out, and you watch him walk away. You reluctantly turn your head back to Sofia, who you know is going to have so much to say to her. Her expression is pure gold, and you immediately laugh at the way her head is tilted slightly down, mouth hanging open, eyes blinking dramatically.

“Don’t even say it,” you warn her, lifting a finger in warning, and she presses her lips together. “Yeah yeah, it was hot, I know,” you add with a roll of your eyes.

“So fucking hot,” she confirms, reaching for her drink again as she shakes her head.

Sofia turns herself towards you in the dark, her eyes more serious than normal. You two are laying in your bed with the TV on in the background, trying to fall asleep after coming down from your buzz. You’d made several stops after Cowgirls and drank a hell of a lot more, but it’s been a few hours, long enough to still feel pleasant but at least you’ve got some of your wits about you again.

“Can I ask you something?” she says, and you wince a little, having a feeling on what’s coming next.

“Sure,” you say, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

“Do you have feelings for him?”

You sigh and hold back your answer for a few quiet moments. “I don’t know, maybe…” You look towards her, hoping to convey the confusion you’re feeling in your eyes. “I don’t think he’d feel that way about me, so I’m trying really hard not to.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t he feel that way about you?” she says with a scoff.

“He seemed really quick to agree that things were casual with us. I don’t know. He’s never said anything more about it. We just… fuck, mostly. And hang out sometimes, I guess”

“Hmm,” Sofia thinks for a beat. “He looks at you in a certain way, like more than just lusting after you.”

“What? No he doesn’t. He only came to see me tonight because he wanted to have sex with me. Which is fine, that’s kind of what we agreed to, I think.”

“Or… he could want to fuck you and just want to see you because he likes being around you,” she counters, and you know she’s technically right, but you don’t want to believe it even a tiny percentage for fear of being wrong. So you shrug in response, finding it unlikely. Not that you think Joel doesn’t want to be around you, just that he wouldn’t have much of a reason to if you didn’t like your body, too.

“I know the whole friends with benefits thing can be kind of confusing sometimes,” Sofia says, rolling her entire body so that she’s fully facing you now. You do the same and you look at each other, ignoring the voices coming from the television now. You sigh, feeling a few tears prick behind your eyes. Damn it, Sofia is always good at breaking down your barriers like this, and the alcohol isn’t helping.

“I don’t want to be wrong,” you state simply, and she nods, understanding your meaning. “And I don’t even know what I’d want to do with my feelings. What, are we supposed to be an official couple or something? It feels ridiculous to even think about.”

“I mean, you two wouldn’t be the first people with an age gap to be together like that,” Sofia states plainly.

“I do like him, Soph,” you say quietly, feeling the tears stinging again. Something about being with one of your closest friends, someone so understanding and encouraging, is really turning on the waterworks for you. “Aside from the obvious stuff about him being insanely good at fucking me, he’s so… great. He never made me feel pressured or weird about our age stuff, and he does sweet stuff for me, like paying attention to things I like, treating me so well. What the hell does it all mean from him, you know?” you spill out, unable to stop this need to share all the thoughts that have been tumbling through your head recently. Sofia hums, thinking, and you continue.

“Like, he wanted to see me to have lunch, in a park… just to see me. But then the next moment he’s looking at me like I’m only a fucking meal and I start to doubt myself again… what am I supposed to do?” You groan and run your hands over your face, wanting to scream into your pillow. You had never expected this to go so far - you hadn’t even thought past just getting him to notice you, honestly. It’s been one step at a time with this whole situation, and now you’re feeling like you’re quickly approaching some kind of crossroads with Joel.

“Oh, babe, you really are in deep. And it sounds like he might be too, whether he realizes it or not,” Sofia replies. You chew on your inner lip, wanting her to be wrong because it would just be so much less painful.

“I don’t think I can risk saying any of this to him, though,” you tell her, shaking your head. “I don’t want to lose him, I’m already so… addicted,” you admit, cringing at the last word.

“Addicted or not, I think you should tell him. That, or you have to accept what you two are doing is just that, and nothing more.” Sofia purses her lips and gives you a sympathetic look.

“I hate when you’re right,” you say with a scowl.

“That must be tough, considering I’m right one hundred percent of the time,” she says with a laugh, prompting one from you as well. Sofia reaches over and drapes her arm around you, squeezing you tightly.

“No matter what, I’ll be here. I do hope he’s devastatingly in love with you, though.”

“Okay, don’t put ideas in my head,” you say, smacking her on the arm. The thought of that alone could send you spiraling. Joel loving you in any capacity seems far fetched, as you aren’t even sure what your feelings are for him besides fucking terrifyingly strong. But if someday he did… what then?

“Sorry. You guys would make a cute couple though, honestly. People might freak about the age thing, but if that’s what you both want, then I say why not? Fuck what anyone else thinks,” Sofia says with a defiant look on her face, one you’ve seen many times when she’s dedicated to a cause or idea.

“Easier said than done,” you say with a small shrug.

“Very true. So what do you want, hm?” she asks, trying to coax some finality out of you in this conversation.

“I just want… him. All the time. He’s invaded my fucking brain and I don’t even know anything else anymore. I just want to be with him any chance I can.”

“Good dick will do that to you,” she says, chuckling. “And also feelings,” she adds on more seriously.

“Feelings…”

“Yes, feelings. Feelings that you should definitely confess to him someday if you think he might have them back.”

“I’m too drunk to consider him having real feelings for me,” you say, rolling over and crushing your face into your pillow.

“Want to watch more trashy shit and forget about it for now?” Sofia asks earnestly, and you pop your head up off the pillow and nod at her.

“Yes, please,” you groan, readjusting yourself to face the TV again as Sofia puts on one of your favorite rom-com movies and you two laugh at the predictable drama unfolding in front of you. You’re immensely grateful Sofia knew exactly what you needed in this moment, and wish you could just keep her here in Austin with you for a bit longer to help you figure out what the hell you’re doing.

The next morning, you and Sofia groggily stretch out on your bed with mild hangovers plaguing you both.

“I want a fucking egg sandwich,” Sofia croaks out, the first thing spoken between you two for the day. That’s her go to hangover food - egg, cheese, and bacon on any kind of carb, but preferably a huge bagel.

You laugh, rolling over to check your phone. “We’ll get you your egg sandwich, princess,” you tell her, brushing your tangled hair out of your face as the screen lights up on your phone. “Oh, Joel texted me,” you announce. Sofia perks up a little, placing her head on your shoulder and trying to see your phone screen.

“Aww!” she coos, seeing Joel’s message inviting you both over for breakfast to cure your hangovers. “We’re going, right?” she says, the sleepiness in her voice now replaced with excitement.

“Uh…” you start, thinking for several beats. “Maybe…”

“This is some boyfriend shit right here, I see what you’re talking about. Fucking you in a bathroom and leaving, and then making you and your friend breakfast? That’s mixed signal central right there,” Sofia says, completely ignoring your half-assed protest. She stands up, heading to the bathroom as she’s talking.

“Exactly!” you exclaim. “I have no idea what the hell he wants from me.” You hear Sofia rustling through her things in the bathroom before she starts brushing her teeth.

“Well we’re going, so get ready,” she tells you, voice muffled from the toothbrush in her mouth. You groan a little, sliding out of the bed and joining her in the bathroom to get ready. You shoot Joel back a confirmation that you’ll be over in a bit, and half regret it, not sure what you’re about to get yourself into. Sure, it was entertaining watching Sofia interact with Joel last night, but in the light of day you don’t know if you can handle her questioning him.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve both brushed your teeth, thrown on your lounge clothes, and combed your hair out, barely able to bother with much else through the pounding headaches that have been creeping up on you. You urge Sofia to quietly head down the stairs with you and around the fence to Joel’s yard, trying to avoid getting in the sight of any larger windows in your parents place. She giggles a little, absolutely loving the drama of it all and you roll your eyes but can’t help but laugh because it really is ridiculous.

You tap on Joel’s backdoor when you see him in the kitchen beyond. A cocky grin is on his face as he slides the door open and beholds the two of you.

“Oh, there are some fresh faces,” he quips, pressing his lips together to avoid laughing at your tired looks.

“Watch it, we will bite if prompted,” Sofia says, baring her teeth at him humorously.

Joel’s eyes are completely on you when he says “Hope so,” and Sofia groans immediately.

“Ew, guys, it’s literally too early for that,” she replies, sauntering further into Joel’s kitchen and taking a seat at the counter when he offers up the seats to you two. You sit down next to her and rest your head on her shoulder. You’re beginning to wonder why you thought this was about to be a mild hangover when you first woke up. Joel pours two cups of coffee and slides them over to you and Sofia, then goes to his fridge and pulls out a container of creamer, and your mouth drops open slightly. It’s the type of creamer you’d told him that you like the other morning, and he went and fucking bought it in case you were having coffee here? You give him a knowing smile and soft eyes as he passes the creamer to you, willing him to understand just how much this small moment means to you.

“Alright, ladies, what’re we having?” Joel asks, leaning on his elbows across from you on the island.

“What, we get to order like we’re at a restaurant?” You laugh, adding cream to your coffee and stirring it. Sofia does the same and you both take big sips, that first taste of coffee breathing a bit of life back into you.

“I’ve got pancake mix, eggs, toast, some sausages,” Joel lists off, and Sofia perks up.

“Do you have bacon and a huge ass bagel?” Sofia asks hopefully, leaning forward in excitement.

“I do have bacon, but it’s a no on the bagel. How ‘bout an english muffin?”

Sofia puts on a thinking face for a moment with a slight scowl. “Okay, deal.”

“Her favorite hangover food is a breakfast sandwich,” you tell him, and Joel nods in agreement.

“That’s a good one for a hangover, alright,” he replies, now looking at you. “What about you, darlin’?” Joel asks, and you feel Sofia slap your leg excitedly under the counter at his pet name. You want to slap hers back hard in protest, but you decide not to cause a scene in front of Joel.

“Same is fine with me. Bacon egg and cheese.”

“Alright, gimme a little bit. In the meantime tell me about your big night,” Joel says.

“Ugh, so fun,” Sofia begins to answer. “I wish I didn’t have to fly back later today,” she says sadly.

“Shortest visit ever,” you gripe, leaning your head on her shoulder again.

“I know, my job literally has me by the balls right now, it’s hard to get any time off,” she rolls her eyes, and you see Joel shoot her an amused look.

“How about that guy at the bar, huh?” Joel asks playfully.

“I scared him away from her,” you say, frowning dramatically.

“He wasn’t going to fuck me in the bathroom anyways, so what was the point, you know?” she teases, looking at you with raised eyebrows. You see Joel practically choke on nothing across the room as he’s cracking eggs into a pan and you furrow your brows, looking Sofia in the eyes with a warning look.

“That feels like a personal attack,” you snort.

“Agreed,” Joel chimes in, not looking over, and something about the way this conversation is flowing tugs at your heart. The way Joel is making you and Sofia breakfast sandwiches like it’s the most convenient thing for him, and how they’re getting along so well, despite you being able to tell Joel thinks Sofia is out of her mind in the best way. You feel like you’re going to burst, you can’t remember the last time you felt so happy in a moment.

“Thank you so much, Joel, seriously,” Sofia says fifteen minutes later as Joel hands you two plates with a steaming, delicious looking breakfast sandwich, standing there with one of his own. He slides over a bottle of painkillers for your headaches and smirks. “You’re one of the good ones,” she adds, pointing a finger at him.

You can’t help but smile even wider at her comment being so right before taking a bite of the meal Joel made for you two. It’s so good, just like the other few things he’s cooked for you recently. The man knows how to season his food perfectly, at the very least.

“Yessss,” Sofia groans out as she takes her first bite. You’ve seen this same reaction many times after a night out together when she finally gets her craving fulfilled.

“So good, thanks,” you say a bit more shyly than Sofia. Joel looks pleased that you both are enjoying everything so much, and his eyes are soft and kind as they watch you for the rest of your meal together.

Sofia even dares a hug with Joel when you go to leave a while later, and despite his raised eyebrows, he goes in for the hug, patting her on the back.

“You’re a little wild, but I like ya. I can tell you take good care of our girl here,” Joel states when they break the hug. There it is again, his words claiming you as his, as part of his life in a significant way. His girl, you ring the words through your head several times to see how they feel.

Sofia smiles brightly and links her arm in yours, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I could say something so inappropriate about you taking care of her too, but I won’t,” she laughs, and you look over at her as if to say you just did anyways.

“Nice to meet you,” Sofia says, waving to Joel as you leave, and he returns the sentiment. He winks at you when you turn to get one last look before sliding the door shut behind you.

You’re restless now, laying awake after lounging all day. You and Sofia spent the rest of the morning debriefing from your night out, and all the stops you made after Cowgirls, remembering only portions of it. You switched to binge a new drama that you promised to only watch the rest of if you were on the phone together before she had to finish packing up to go to the airport.

You drop her off, and a few tears are shed with both of you promising to call and text constantly, and once again, you’re alone and friendless in Austin. Having Sofia leave definitely strengthens your resolve to try and make some friends in this new city.

But now, you’re lying awake, feeling slightly sorry for yourself as you try to read and wind your mind down for the night. But truthfully, you can only think of Joel, and how you wish he were here, even if just to be here while you read. You just want his warm body next to yours, reminding you he’s there for you, holding you close to him. You debate for a few minutes before grabbing your phone and typing out a message.

You: Come over?

Joel: You come here

You: I asked first 😠

Joel: I have treats

You quirk your brow before receiving a photo of ice cream containers in Joel’s freezer, which makes you laugh. Food is definitely his favorite way of taking care of others, you’ve officially concluded.

You: Fine… be there in 5

You are there in less than five minutes, Joel opening the door and pulling you into his arms immediately. You breathe into his chest, the inviting, comforting scent of him instantly lifting your mood. You’d stay buried in this chest, smelling him forever if you could. He kisses your head and holds you longer, sensing your hesitation to pull away.

“What’s goin’ on baby, you feelin’ down about Sofia?” He rocks your body a little and you nod.

“I just love having her around, and I’m tired as hell, but I can’t sleep,” you mumble into his chest.

“Poor little thing. I’ll take care of ya,” he teases slightly despite meaning it. “C’mon in.” Joel pulls you into the living room, settling you onto the couch before disappearing and then reappearing with the ice cream and two spoons.

“You like cookie dough?” he asks, showing you the carton with that flavor listed on the front before sitting down next to you.

“Hell yeah,” you reply, tucking yourself in close to him, your spoon fighting to get into the ice cream.

“Patience, sweet girl,” he chides, opening the lid and seal of the carton, and you laugh. As soon as it’s open, he offers it to you and you take a large spoonful, a light moan of delight slipping out as it hits your lips.

“Keep makin’ noises like that and see what happens.” Joel looks at you with lifted brows, taking a spoonful of the ice cream for himself.

“Ha ha,” you tease back. “Wouldn’t you like that.”

“Wouldn’t you?” he counters.

“I would,” you say plainly, daring him with your lifted eyebrows, sucking on the spoon a little longer than normal as you have another bite of the ice cream.

Joel laughs and shakes his head. “Swear, you are always pushin’ me, girl,” he says.

“Not my fault everything I do makes you want to fuck me,” you tease confidently.

“Oh, isn’t it?” he quips back, nudging you with his arm.

“Anyway, I’m just here to eat ice cream and watch TV, so…” you tilt your head with a sweet, unassuming smile and then turn your attention towards the TV and grab the remote before Joel can. Joel growls in his throat, half irritated and half amused at your teasing, but he lets it go for now.

“Fine then, don’t come to me beggin’ later,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“Wait. Joel, have you been watching Lover’s Paradise since you saw it at my place?!” you blurt out incredulously, a wide grin on your face as you stifle a laugh. You can see on his most recently streamed shows that he’s a couple episodes deep into one of the seasons.

“W-well, you showed me just a little, and I’m a naturally curious guy, so y’know. One thing leads to another…” he rambles on, looking embarrassed at your discovery.

“This is turning out to be the best night ever, actually,” you reply, loving the sheepish look on his face. For once, for god damned once, he’s the one acting completely tripped up with you, you rather than the other way around. You click on the next episode and set the remote down, leaning back into Joel with the smug smile still plastered on your face.

“Stop it,” he growls when he notices your overly pleased expression.

“Nope,” you counter with a little delighted shake of your head.

“Alright, quiet now so I can see what Victoria and Henry have been up to,” he says, and you double over with laughter before you can even stop yourself.

“Yes sir,” you say, sitting back again and pinching your lips to try and keep more laughter from slipping out.

It’s not until Victoria throws a drink on Henry and then slaps him that Joel has a reaction and starts speaking again.

“Now that’s just crazy,” he says, stunned. The man has clearly not watched enough reality TV if this kind of behavior is shocking to him. “She slapped him for what again?” he leans forward, pointing his spoon at the screen and holding the ice cream container in the other. His eyes are glued on the TV and brows furrowed, and it’s such an amusing sight it sends you laughing again.

“He was talking about her behind her back, duh. Are you even watching?” you reply with sass.

“I am, there’s just a lot goin’ on, it’s hard to follow.” Joel huffs in response, still avidly watching the screen to piece more of it together. You can’t believe how seriously he’s taking this right now. Here you are, trying to avoid your feelings for him when he pulls adorable things like this and makes you want to smash your lips on his and tell him to watch reality TV with you forever.

“You sweet, sweet man, you will soon learn the ways of trashy reality TV,” you say with a dramatic flair. Joel tries to shush you again, so you wrap your arm around his chest and angle your head towards the show while it rests on his shoulder, craving closeness with him but not wanting to distract him further. His hand comes up to your arm, tracing back and forth along it to your hand as he watches. When the episode ends, he looks down at you, a questioning look on his face.

“Start the next one,” you say, answering his silent question. He smiles down at you before you two focus back in for another episode. Several hours later, you’re dozing onto his chest while Joel has watched two more episodes of Lover’s Paradise, staying equally invested through each one, and that’s when you know you’ve created a monster.

He nudges you and plants a kiss on your head. “You up, darlin’?” he asks quietly, and you stir, knowing you’ve been half sleeping for the last hour, coming in and out of consciousness trying to follow what was happening on Lover’s Paradise.

“Oh, s-sorry,” you mumble, sitting up and off his chest. Joel puts an arm around you and rubs your back.

“S’alright, glad you got some shut eye. Want to come upstairs with me?” he asks. You blink sleepily at him and nod, slowly standing up from the couch and trailing behind him. Your heart lurches in your chest when you see the bright pink toothbrush you used the last time you slept here is in a little cup by the sink, and you have to fight not to have an overt reaction to its presence. Instead, you grab it and begin brushing your teeth like this is a completely normal occurrence - you having things at Joel’s house.

“For you to sleep in, if ya want,” Joel says as you come out of the bathroom. He hands you one of his shirts to wear, an old looking college football one. You strip your own shirt off, revealing your lack of bra underneath, but you figured Joel had already noticed that much. He sucks in a breath, watching you unabashedly as you’re half naked before tossing his shirt over your head. You strip off your shorts and place all of your clothing on the same chair he had used last time. In the meantime, Joel has gotten into his bed, leaning back on the headboard as he’s been observing you.

“Look so damn good in here, baby, just doin’ your thing,” he says as you approach the free side of the bed and start to climb in.

“Oh stop,” you say, waving him off. Joel reaches up to his bedside lamp and turns it off, and you quickly do the same before laying down.

“Definitely not doing that,” he retorts, and you let out a giggle as he snatches you into his arms as he says it. You lay in the dark, feeling the warmth from Joel’s body seeping into yours. He’s laying in only his briefs now, and you like that you know how he sleeps. You revel in his bare chest underneath your hand as you trace your fingers along it.

“Thanks for everything tonight, I feel way better than I did earlier,” you tell him sincerely, giving his shoulder a quick kiss.

“What I’m here for - makin’ you feel good, baby” Joel replies. “In all kinds of ways.”

Your eyes are already closed, the heaviness of sleep keeping them from opening again despite your desire to look up at Joel. “Is that so?” you mumble into his shoulder.

“It is, but right now, I’m makin’ you feel good by letting you get some sleep,” he says, forgoing the flirty avenue the conversation was about to turn down.

“N-no, need to stay up with you,” you half slur out of sleepiness, attempting to blink your eyes open a few times.

Joel simply shushes you, rubbing his hand along your back in soothing strokes. “Sleep, sweet girl,” he commands in a soft, quiet voice, and as usual, you find yourself doing exactly what he asks of you as you give in to the sleep your tired mind is fighting for.

#joel is so boyfriend in this chapter i'm gonna screaaaaaaam #fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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