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Joel Miller
After Midnight - @hsispunk - joel is feeling lonely in austin, so he calls a sex hotline.
Taco Tuesday - @time-for-my-weekly-spanking
No One But Me - @koshkamartell - your relationship with Joel Miller was a secret, one in which he would break you over and over. Tired of mistreatment you leave. But what happens when Joel cannot handle losing the control he has over you? And what happens when another man catches your attention?
Let Me Teach You - @aurorawritestoescape - your boyfriend begs you to have anal but knows jack shit about the act. Much to your surprise and pleasure, his dad steps up and teaches him. By example.
Take my hand where you want it - @time-for-my-weekly-spanking - After you discover that your husband is cheating on you with Joel's secretary, Joel becomes your confidant. One night, after your husband comes home late yet again, you rush to Joel for comfort. And Joel makes sure you get everything you deserve.
stay away - @coolgirlmonolog - you left your small town in austin to study in new york and, after graduating, found a nice job in the big city. every year you go back home to visit your parents and your high school best friend, tommy miller. last year you went back for a whole week during the summer, and joel wasn’t exactly friendly with you. you were never friends, but after 10 years of knowing each other, his attitude caught your attention. this summer you’ll see him again… how will it turn out?
Unfaithful - @peepawmiller - Joel takes you on a date. And then he takes you home.
Humiliated - @broad-shouldrs - joel accidentally comes inside you
Bad Neighbours - @koshkamartell - Joel Miller is a grumpy old man who enjoys peace and quiet. Ever since you moved into the neighbourhood he can't seem to escape you.
Happy Campers - @baronessvonglitter - Joel Miller, the new head counselor at Camp Happy Trail, makes sure this summer will be one you won't forget.
What happens behind Buc-ee's, stays behind Buc-ee's - @kindahecticinside - 56 year old Joel Miller spends his days as a blue collar contractor busy on the job site, though his idea of being 'busy' involves standing around cat-calling ladies all day long. One day he tries his luck with you and he gets more than he bargained for in the process.
Your Needs, My Needs - @honey-moon-13 - The worst part about injuring his hand isn’t the pain. It’s having to take off his wedding ring—and being unable to jerk off properly. Luckily, Joel has a wife who’s more than happy to lend him a hand.
Sloth | se7en collection - @milla-frenchy - after you promised Joel to try something new in bed and managed to make him skip patrol and stay home, he makes sure you mean it. So you enjoy a chill morning with him, and then you make good on your promise
Tess & Joel
Awakening - @time-for-my-weekly-spanking - When you join Joel, Tess, and Tommy, you shake Joel to his core. But he may not be the only one awakened by your presence.
Frankie Morales
Frankie - The Best Friend | Guy-Crazy - @baronessvonglitter - After a disastrous breakup, Daisy's best friend Frankie offers her the jumpstart she needs to get over her ex.
Javi Gutierrez | Guy-Crazy - @baronessvonglitter - We go back several years to find Daisy healing her very first broken heart.
Tommy Miller
Maid Discreetly - Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Series - @mountainsandmayhem - After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man?
Joel Miller & Javier Peña
Lust (Taste in Men Part 2) | se7en collection - @milla-frenchy - you’ve spent a perfect night with your best friend Javi and your ex-boyfriend Joel, and the next day holds the promise of what’s to come
Javier Peña
Puff, Puff, Smash - @half-moon16 - When you're reunited with your old crush, Javier Peña at a get together at his dad's ranch, you proposition him with a theory he just has to test out for himself.
Clint Flood
Changes (In the House of Flies) - @quickiesgirl - Clint recognizes a familiar face while conducting business at a strip club, someone he'd known quite intimately.
Summary: after a long day you grab your favorite drink with your favorite guy.
Pairing/WC/Tags: Tommy x gf!reader / 546 / established relationship, coffee date, fluff
A/N: that’s that meee espresso but make it Tommy. For day one of AU-gust with @thepromptfoundry ‘coffee shop’ one day I’ll do a SnS series and this will be part of it!!
You let out a yawn as you step into the cozy coffee shop, Tommy’s hand in yours. It’s late, and you both decided to swing by for a little late-night coffee date after a busy day. You can feel the warmth of the shop wrapping around you, a stark contrast to the cool evening air outside. The chill of the night lingers just enough to make you pull your jacket tighter around yourself.
“I swear, I’m going to fall asleep on this couch,” you laugh tiredly as you take a seat at one of the plush armchairs, still feeling the heaviness from your full stomach after dinner.
Tommy chuckles, sitting across from you. He raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “You sure that espressos gonna help? You look like you’re about to pass out any second.”
You groan playfully. “It’s not my fault! I’m full from dinner, and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Tommy grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You sure it’s not just the fact that you’re getting old and need a nap every five minutes?”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile creeping onto your face. “You’re one to talk. You’re barely keeping your eyes open yourself.”
He leans back in his chair, taking a slow sip of his coffee, still watching you with that teasing grin. “I don’t need a nap, though. I’m just here, enjoying the night… unlike some people.”
You sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes for a second, the hum of the shop and the soft chatter around you almost lulling you to sleep.
Tommy watches you with that soft, affectionate gaze, his smile fading a little as he realizes you really are tired. “Maybe I should’ve gotten you something with a little more kick. But you know, you’re cute when you’re tired.”
You snort. “Cute? I’m practically falling asleep in front of you, and normally I can’t sleep.”
“Baby, I know, but you look like a sleepy little kitten. It’s adorable.”
You try to stifle a yawn, but you can’t help it. “It’s not my fault, I swear. The coffee’s just not working fast enough.”
Tommy chuckles again, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you’re still tired after all that espresso. You should’ve seen yourself at dinner—so full and barely keeping your eyes open, then this.”
You laugh softly, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to push away the exhaustion. “It’s not just the food. I think I could fall asleep right here on this couch.”
Tommy leans forward, tapping your shoulder gently. “Well, if you’re that tired, go ahead and close your eyes for a bit. I’ll just keep watch, alright?”
You nod, curling into the armchair, feeling the weight of the evening finally catching up with you. You let your eyes flutter shut, the warmth of the coffee shop and Tommy’s presence beside you making you feel safe enough to drift off.
Tommy smiles at the sight of you so peacefully relaxed. He knows how easily you trust him, how comfortable you feel next to him. And even though he teases you about being tired, he would never wake you up. He’s happy to stay by your side, let you rest, and carry you home if he needs to.
Story Summary: After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man?
Chapter Summary: Tommy invites you to the club, but you are barely in the building when confessions start to pour from both your lips.
AN: Trigger warnings are underneath the cut in small red letters to avoid spoilers.Thank you so freaking much to every single one of you little cutie patooties who love Tommy and his girl so much! I've honestly loved creating their little world and making so many of you fall for Tommy.
Word Count: 2.5k
TW: biting, tying hands together, kissing, dirty talk, oral (Female receiving, multiple orgasms, use of safe word, aftercare
You
Tommy puts you down in the middle of a room that’s not nearly as luxurious as his. He didn’t need to scan his watch to get into this one, which you assume means that it’s a public space. You glance over your shoulder to see a dark curtain drawn over part of the wall. The room is nothing ostentatious which surprises you. Aside from a chest of drawers and a large bed, the room is empty.
Click.
You head swivels back to Tommy, who’s standing beside the door, his hand on a small dial, the source of the sound you just heard. “What’s that?”
“Microphone,” He juts his jaw to the wall behind you. “They can hear everything happening in here now, sweetheart.”
A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth and you bite at your lip to stop it from forming. Tommy, on the other hand, smiles wide, a small laugh leaving his lips; lips that are stained just a tad from your red lipstick.
“Are you going to let them see?”
Tommy doesn’t answer you, but that’s how you like it. You don’t want to make decisions and that’s the best part of that little checklist you slid under his door - he already knows what you like and what you want to try. Tommy spins away from you towards the set of drawers. His movements are confident and calm, but something dangerous radiates off of him. Your heart rate elevates, your vision honing in on Tommy. You feel like prey, like a deer in a meadow who suddenly senses danger. Unlike the deer though, you don’t want to run - unless it’s towards the one who’s about to tear into you. He opens a drawer, his broad body making it so you can’t see what he’s grabbing. It’s equal parts unnerving and so fucking sexy. You ball your hands into fists, your fingernails digging crescent shaped moons into your palms, the pain of it distracts you from running to him.
“Hands in front of you,” he barks, his voice rough and commanding. When his eyes meet yours they’re nearly black. This is the man who spanked you in his library, not the man who just spent time kissing your entire body. The shift of it startles you, a gasp filling the silence as he walks towards you, a thin black rope in his hands. He continues speaking as he winds the rope around his hands, creating a bow. “Before I let them see you, I need to make sure they know who you belong to.”
He holds up the loops and you slip your wrists through. “It’s only you, sir,” you say through another gasp as he tightens the rope with a single flick of his wrists.
“Oh, I know that already little hellraiser,” he moves to stand behind you. The sound of cotton on skin before his shirt comes over your shoulder and falls to your feet. You don’t dare look, even though a shirtless Tommy Miller is enough to create world peace in your eyes. Seriously, who could continue arguing and fighting when they could just stop and stare at all that sinew and tattooed skin? His warm breath hits your shoulder blade as he says, “But the crowd I’m sure is gathering behind that curtain certainly doesn’t.”
Pain, red hot and sharp, explodes along your shoulder blade. It’s gone before you can react, but when the same sensation erupts along your hip you cry out.
“Tell me about the colours,” Tommy commands, his lips pressing softly to the spots you’re pretty sure he just bit.
“Green means go,” you say as his teeth sink into your side, confirming your thoughts just a few second ago. “Fuuuuck.”
“Keep going,” he encourages and you squeeze your thighs together.
“Yellow means I’m close to my limit.” Teeth pinch the skin of your other shoulder blade, your cunt clenching.
“Ouch,” you whimper, but the moan he pulls from you as his tongue soothes the pain is all the permission he needs from you to keep going.
“R-red means stop,” you breathe, Tommy’s mouth kissing along the globe of your ass before he bites the back of your thigh.
“Ow, fuck, sir.” Your clit throbs with each graze of his teeth and press of his lips. Each pinch of pain is quickly soothed by his kisses or lap of his tongue.
“Give me a colour, baby.” He rasps, his breath heating along your skin.
“Green,” his teeth meet your other side next, sharp and piercing.
“I’m going to open that blind soon,” he says roughly between light kisses down your hip. You arch, pushing your ass towards his face. “They’re going to see every mark, every indent of my teeth on your perfect skin.” He nips at your thigh, just below where your ass meets your leg. “Spread your legs, show me how wet you are.” You shuffle your feet apart, preening at the whimpered praise Tommy gives you. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, sweetheart. This fucking cunt is going to destroy me the first time you let me fuck you.”
You cry out as he bites your ass cheek, your pussy dripping at the thought of people listening just beyond that flimsy little curtain. You imagine them squirming, shuffling from one foot to the next. Them, like you, feeling like they are going to jump out of their skin as they eagerly await Tommy’s next move. With every mark Tommy leaves on your skin, you picture more people crowding the window, some of them so turned on by what Tommy is doing to you that they have to rent rooms of their own; fucking each other with a raw and carnal need as they replay the scene in their minds. Your wrists burn against the rope that binds them together, throat dry from the heavy gasps of air that are forced into your lungs with each bite. Earlier you were so deep in your own head. His lips and hands felt amazing, but every time you were about to relax you started worrying about how intimate everything was, the little voice in your head telling you that this isn’t real, it’s an act, a show. With everything you know about love, passion like this doesn’t exist in real life. But now, the pain as he marks your skin jolts you out of your own thoughts.
Finally, after what feels like hours, Tommy pulls away and wanders back to your front. You blink up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “It hurts,” you pout.
“The bites? They were supposed to hurt.”
You shake your head and he draws his eyebrows together in confusion. “Not the bites, my pussy. Please let me come now, Tommy.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes dancing along your face. Whatever it was that you just said has shifted something in his face. He’s softer, some of the honey flecks returning to his eyes, when it dawns on you.
Tommy…
Tommy
He should be mad, furious really. In these walls he is only referred to as Sir. In fact, in the last decade he can’t remember a time someone called him Tommy while they were naked. But he does know one thing, his name leaving someone’s lips has never sounded so…pure, so full of reverence. He glances up to the ceiling, then tugs at one of the long ends of the rope to remove the cuffs. He cradles your forearms gently, checking over the faint red lines the rope left behind. He presses on the pads of a few fingers, watching them go from pink to white and back to pink.
He nods in approval, and turns to head back over to the wall. His favourite part of this room is that it appears to be vanilla, and for the most part it’s used by the less kinky members of the club, but there’s always something salacious hidden in the shadows of JMKink. When he spins back to face you, you’re looking at him with a sense of regret, like you know you fucked up by calling him anything but Sir. He presses the second button on the panel by the door and the curtain pulls open with a soft whoosh. Your eyes flick to the side, like you want to look but he shakes his head, stopping you from looking behind yourself. He wants them to see the red marks, the sparkling rhinestones that spell out “Yes, Sir” along the waistband of your thong. He pushes another button and you flinch at the grinding sound that comes from above you. He watches your breathing speed up, your tits rising and falling rapidly. This time, you don’t look away from him, and that earns you more praise.
“That’s my girl, keep your eyes on me. Don’t worry about them.” The metal bar that he lowered from the ceiling is at the perfect height now, just enough out of reach that you’ll have to go on your tip toes to reach it. He taps the button to stop it, then slips off his shoes and socks before padding back over to you. Something about being in only jeans while making his partner fall apart again and again is like a drug to him and the with the way your eyes trail down his body it feels like that drug is being injected straight into his DNA.
“Remind me, hellraiser. Why didn’t I let you come last time?” This is his favourite part of having an audience. The storytelling; creating a scene, building the anticipation, working in well timed twists and turns, before the…well…climax - both metaphorically and theoretically.
“Because I didn’t listen.”
You look malleable right now, fully immersed in subspace, ready and willing to listen to everything he says. He nods, pushing his hands into his pockets before walking towards you. “Grab onto that bar.”
Your head tilts adorably to one side and he can’t help the small breathy laugh he lets out. “Above your head. Just reach up and grab onto it.” You try to follow his instructions without look away, but when your fingertips wiggle looking for the bar he laughs quietly again and gives you permission to look away to find it.
Yep, she’s deep into subspace alright.
“I’m going to make this a little easier on you than last time, okay?” You nod as he steps into your space. Your warm body pressed against his, still so much shorter than him even when you’re pushed up onto your toes. He pulls you flush against him by your waist. “You are allowed to make as much noise as you want this time, but you are not allowed to let go of that bar. Understood?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
His eyes flick to the window then back to yours. “Your cries of pain drew in quite the audience. I can only imagine how many more will gather around that window when they hear how pretty you sound when you come.”
Before you can respond he’s on his knees, tugging your panties down and then lifting one of your legs over his shoulders before burying his face in your pussy. There’s no slow movements this time, no letting you adjust. Your clit is so swollen that it’s pushed free of its hood. Tommy pulls it into his mouth, rolling his tongue along it. His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, steadying you while simultaneously pushing you harder against his face. If he suffocated to death right now he’d die a very happy man.
The world melts away, your moans become louder, morphing into groans and gasps. He’s not sure how long has passed, or how many times you’ve announced that you’re going to come. He doesn’t care and has no plans to stop, you know what to do if you need the break. So, he drinks you down, his ears greedily wanting more of the moans and sobs and whimpers. His knees ache under the dark wooden floor of the room, your legs shake with a mixture of exhaustion and yet another orgasm.
“Red,” your voice is a hoarse rasp.
“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, catching you as you let go of the bar above your head and slump forward. Since he’s not that much shorter than you while kneeling, he guides you to the ground. When a submissive uses their safe word that grants them access to a safe space - all contact stops immediately and only after he’s asked for consent to move into aftercare will he touch them again. As he lowers you to the ground your arms wrap around his neck, plastering your overheating body to his. Still, he keeps his hands as much to himself as he can without letting you fall. His next words are whisper, quiet enough that he knows only the two of you can hear them. “Do I have your consent to carry you to the bed and hold you until you come back to yourself?”
“Yes, but not that bed,” You manage to whisper back. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, making it easy for him to slip his arms around you. Your mask slips as you bury yourself into his chest, and that’s all the cues he needs.
Tommy pulls you tighter to his body, “Keep your face towards me,” he says in a soft warning, then stands and takes you back to his private room.
Story Summary: After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man?
Chapter Summary: Tommy invites you to the club, but you are barely in the building when confessions start to pour from both your lips.
AN: Trigger warnings are underneath the cut in small red letters to avoid spoilers. Hello my little friends!! Sorry for the long wait, buuuut I feel like you're used to that from me lol. Anyhoo, hope you fall even more in love with them after this. I absolutely did not get anyone to beta or proof read this sooo....
Word Count: 2.2k
TW: kissing, dirty talk, flashback of shitty men being shitty, mentions of body insecurities
You
You’ve always loved when opposing things come together and make each other better, build each other up instead of tear it down. Like a dollop of sour cream on cherry pie, or dipping a grilled cheese in apple sauce. In this case, it’s the juxtaposition of Tommy’s private room and his cabin. It’s almost like the two spaces are written in a different font while still remaining…well, Tommy. Where his home had large floor-to-ceiling windows to let in tons of natural light, this room has none. Instead, brushed gold scones illuminate as he leads you into the space. The flooring here is a plush, dark chocolate carpet as opposed to the chestnut brown wood of his home.
Tommy closes the door and wraps his arms around you from behind, the heat of his body spreading a chill through you as you look around. You’re not sure what you expected to walk into when he begrudgingly put you down on your feet and then held his Rolex up to the security pad on the door to unlock it. Maybe a sex dungeon or a bunch of chains and apparatus’s to strap you down. Instead, there’s two oversized plush armchairs and a table to the left; a chess board set up on top of it - the board and pieces in matte bronze and iridescent ivory - and a dry bar just behind it. The counter and backsplash of the bar is the same granite as his cabin’s kitchen. You squirm at the memory of him teasing you with the strawberry, coating it with your arousal and then feeding it to you.
“What are you thinking?” Tommy rasps, moving your hair from your shoulder and kissing your pulse point as you glance towards the large four poster bed to your right. The frame is the same brushed gold as the light fixtures, the silky sheets a deep raspberry.
“I need you,” you hum, leaning back into him and tilting your head so he can reach more of your throat. As your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, you see hooks and rings on various places around the walls and the bed frame.
So, I wasn’t entirely wrong about apparatus’s to tie me down.
Tommy runs his nose down the slope of your neck, his moustache tickling roughly as he goes. “You are so incredibly beautiful, sweetheart, even more so when you tell me what you want.” His hands burn paths along your body, one trailing up to cup your breast, pinching at your nipple through the thin fabric of your top, the other reaching for the hem of your skirt. “Tell me. I want to hear how much you miss my lips on your skin, my tongue on your pussy, and my fingers buried inside of you.” His hand moves quickly, pulling at your skirt so he can cup your pussy in his palm.
Heat explodes from your core, running up your spine like vines along a fence. You cry out, grinding into the heel of his hand. “I’ve been craving the feeling of you, sir. No one feels as good as you. Please, it’s been agony.”
Tommy straightens slightly, forcing you onto your tippy toes, your head falling back. You can only imagine how he looks behind you; his large frame bent down so he can reach your cunt. The pressure sends stars behind your eyelids. With no intention of pulling away - and every intention of making you suffer a little longer - he says, “Walk to the bed, hellraiser.”
Your hands grip at his arms for balance as you walk on shaky, unbalanced legs. Each step brings you closer to an orgasm that you’re sure will tear you in half. It’s been ten days since he ruined your orgasm in your office. Nearly two hundred and forty hours of your clit twitching and throbbing, practically begging you to give in. As fun as being a brat is, you know that you wouldn’t be able to handle a punishment from Tommy, your sir, just yet. When you make it to the edge of the bed, Tommy’s fingers slip between the snaps of your bodysuit and your panties. He chuckles deeply at the desperate moan you let out and then rasps, “Such a perfect little pussy, gettin’ so wet for me when you want something.”
A few weeks ago, a comment like that would have had you pulling away and apologizing, embarrassed of your body’s natural response to pleasure.
“Please, sir,” you whisper, looking up over your shoulder at him. The lace of your mask catches on the soft cotton of his shirt. When your eyes meet his there’s something both domineering and gentle painted across his face. He pops the buttons of your bodysuit, his nearly black eyes locked on yours. You whimper when his hands move away from the spot that’s been practically screaming for him.
“Shh,” he soothes, his lips pursing. He moves to the zipper of your skirt, talking to you as he lowers it and then moves to pull your top up. “I told you I would take care of it, there’s no need to whine. You’re going to be my good girl tonight, right? Have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to listen, to be patient, and do as I say?”
The body suit is pulled over your head, and in those few seconds where you can’t see him you miss him. You also fear that when the light returns this will all have been a dream. Relief settles like a rock in your stomach when he’s still there, and even though you know those were rhetorical questions, you respond with a slow nod and soft, “Yes, sir.”
Your nipples pebble as his warm hands fall to your hips. He hasn’t looked anywhere but your face, yet you feel his cock pressing into your back. A flash of a memory pokes at your brain. Preston having to fist his cock to get hard, his eyes slammed shut because he told you your pussy wasn’t normal. You don’t let the thought linger, not anymore. It’s too empowering knowing that you have the ability to turn Tommy on this much by just being you. Just as you’re about to ask him to kiss you, he kneels just like he did in your office. As if it’s as natural as breathing, which is something you suddenly can’t seem to do, you bend at the waist, planting your hands on his mattress.
“Fuck me.” His voice is barely a whisper, you’re half convinced you’re hearing things. Tommy peels your skirt agonizingly slow down your legs. You bite down on your lip to stop from whimpering again, determined not to whine. After pulling off your flats he dots kisses along your calves and thighs. Something about the reverence in his touches tonight, about the privacy of the room feels too…intimate.
His fingers trace along the rhinestone letters of your pink lacy thong. “Leave these on, sweetheart. Lay on the bed, on your stomach.”
You don’t look back at him as you follow his request. Crawling across deep red sheets that are softer than anything you’ve ever felt, the rich fabric cool to the touch along your heated skin as you lie on your stomach, a pillow tucked under your chest. His lips meet your calf, the bed dipping with his weight as he pushes your legs apart to settle between them. All of your previous interactions with Tommy were fuelled by lust and taboo desire. This, however, feels like worship and the fear of never being treated this well after him seeps into your brain.
Tommy
His lips graze the curve of your side eliciting an involuntary twitch and a muffled giggled. “Fuck, I love how ticklish you get.” He’s been kissing along the back half of your body for almost an hour, his fingers occasionally grazing the gusset of your panties.
Typically, scenes with a submissive are pre-agreed upon. They may not know his every move but a conversation of their needs or desires for the appointment is a non-negotiable. Yet, with you, he’s breaking his own rules. Sure, you know the safe word system and he knows what it is that interests you, but all of this isn’t his usual way of dominating someone.
Tommy noticed a shift the moment you crawled onto the bed. You tensed up, your breathing pattern wholly different than what it was as you walked towards the bed with his hand cupping your sex. Experience tells him that this is normal for the first session at the club. There’s usually a lot of nerves from both parties, not to mention all the new sounds and sensations. It can be hard for anyone to get out of their heads enough to just enjoy it. He hoped that by bringing you into his private room first that you’d feel more comfortable, but as his fingers dip between your soft thighs and push your panties to the side, he’s met with warm, dry flesh. Years ago, that would have been a metaphorical right hook. Now, he’s smart enough to know that wetness isn’t a sign of how turned on someone is or isn’t. He can tell that you’ve been enjoying yourself; none of your muscles are tense anymore, you’ve let out plenty of sultry giggles and husky moans or groans. Each time his fingers found your core you’d twitch and arch your back, silently asking for more.
Your voice fills his ears, “We were out on the lake, and the thought of someone seeing us or hearing me... Well, it made me come.”
Doubt creeps in. You want to be in the voyeur rooms, and he brought you here because…well, if he’s brave enough to really look into why it’s because he’s not ready to share. He’s witnessed what you look like when you come twice and it’s fucking magical. Selfishly, showing that to the world means it’s just another thing that’s not for him. He guides you to roll over, bright green eyes clashing with his. He has his job because of his brother, he builds homes for other people to build lives in. Yes, part of this club is for him, but it’s really so others can learn and explore a new side of themselves. Nothing is truly his, aside from you, but that’s not what you want. His stomach feels like it’s doing a free fall. And then, you smile at him and suddenly his stomach is in his throat and his tongue is too big for his mouth and he is so fucking fucked when it comes to you.
I’m falling in love with you. It’s on the tip of his tongue, like a champagne cork, ready to burst out into the room like a celebration. He forces himself to swallow the metaphorical cork - and all his organs - down. Unlike Champagne, it doesn’t feel bubbly and happy. Instead, it feels like bourbon, and not the good kind that’s stocked behind the bar at JMKink. This is the cheap kind that you buy when you’ve had a bad day, that you slam back to temporarily block out the pain and insecurity, the thoughts that scream louder and louder until the amber liquid burns them away.
“Please don’t stop,” you groan, spreading your legs to land on either side of his kneeling form. His eyes trail along your exposed skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest, his mouth going dry at the slightest hints of the tan lines on your shoulders. You sit up, looking up at him through the mask, your almost fully naked body so close to his. “What’s wrong?”
I might be in love with you. I’ve never been in love with anyone, and now I’m having these feelings I can’t explain for a woman I cannot have and is my friend’s daughter.
“T-this,” he clears his throat. “Sorry, just, this is…it’s not what you asked for.”
“Yes it is,” you counter, pulling back and bringing your knees to your chest. The fire in your eyes contradicts the way you’re curled into yourself right now. Determination and vulnerability all wrapped into one little green-eyed brunette-haired package.
“That so? Because I do believe that on that little checklist I told you not to fill out, you wanted people to watch.” He looks around his private room, hoping he’s fooling you into seeing that this isn’t about him feeling overwhelmingly head over heels for you and instead about this being a transaction and an agreement about your desires. “There ain’t no one here but me and you, sweetheart.”
You move towards him, your soft skin not making a sound along his 100% silk sheets that cost him more than his first car. You raise onto your knees and kiss him, moaning into his lips as he kisses you back. It starts soft, and it fucking kills him. But someone out there must be watching over him because it quickly transforms back into that familiar forbidden, lust-fueled desire he’s used to with you. He sinks into the kiss, his hand meeting the back of your neck. He pulls at your hair, his tongue pushing into your mouth. This is easier, this won’t get him hurt - as badly. Before he knows it, he has you tossed over his shoulder as he hauls you out of his room and into one of the more - seemingly - vanilla voyeur rooms.
Okayyyyy call me crazy, but I got an idea. What about inexperiended Firefly reader x Tommy Miller? Boston QZ era? Inspired by one of my favourite tommy fics, Edge of Town, It will be basically a reversal of roles hehehe. Tommy owes Marlene a big one, so he has to take her newest recruit into hiding till she recovers from her injuries. Age gap and obvi she fell first but he fell harder????!!!!
Deciding whether it should be a wip or fully blown one shot.
Also I'll start making collages more often it really sets the mood.
CAGED - ALL BETS ARE OFF || TOMMY SHELBY X READER || PART 06
Outline: Your father sold you to the head of the Peaky Blinders to pay off his debts. Now you're stuck with the most notorious mobster in Birmingham. Is he as bad as he seems?
Word Count: 1,738
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dark themes, multi-part
Part 01 | Part 02 | Part 03 | Part 04 | Part 05
Despite the fall into insanity, you dressed quickly. Another Maroon dress - since he liked the first so much. I pulled my hair back into an elegant bun and slipped into a pair of comfortable shoes before heading downstairs. I was nervous. Why the hell was I so nervous? I quickly made my way to the dining hall, spotting Tommy already sitting at the head of the table. He looked up from his paper, his eyes scanning my form for a moment. My chest clenched. Did he not like it? Why did I care so much? ’You look lovely,’ he said, and you realised a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding. ‘Come and sit, have something to eat before we head into the city,’ he gestured to the chair beside him, the one where only yesterday I was sitting, cowering in fear. I slipped into the chair, watching as Tommy poured some coffee into my cup. ’I think we both need it after last night,’ he gave me a warm smile, probably the first I had seen since I moved in here. It made him look a lot more handsome, the warmth, the kindness in his eyes. Things I hadn’t seen since my mother. When his eye caught mine, I blushed and looked away, picking up pastry and adding it to my plate to distract myself from the warmth I could feel all over my body from him.
‘I know you haven’t been into the city much, but you’ll be fine.’ Tommy explained, sipping on his own coffee, but his plate was empty. ‘We’ll go straight to the betting shop, you can stay in my office while I handle the business. But if you get overwhelmed or bored, I can have one of the boys bring you home.’
‘You should eat something.’ I said quietly, my brow furrowing at his empty plate. Tommy paused, his eyes narrowing on the paper. Panic set in, my chest clenched, and for a second, I thought I had done something wrong. I parted my lips to speak, to apologise, but the words lodged in my throat as Tommy silently reached across the table with a fork, stabbing a sausage and adding it to his plate. He filled his plate without a word, eating slowly as he continued to read the paper. I couldn’t help but smile down at my plate, pulling apart the pastry for my own breakfast. We ate in a peaceful silence until a man showed up at the door.
‘The car is ready, Sir.’ he said, Tommy nodded to him, turning to me. ’The betting shop is a busy place, so you’ll need to stay close to me unless I say so. Understand?’
I nodded quickly, the tone already told me there was no room for argument.
The betting shop was a different world—a chaotic, smoke-filled labyrinth of desperate men and fluttering paper. The air was thick with the scent of cheap tobacco, stale sweat, and the sharp, nervous energy of people praying for a miracle.
The betting shop was a different world—a chaotic, smoke-filled labyrinth of desperate men and fluttering paper. The air was thick with the scent of cheap tobacco, stale sweat, and the sharp, nervous energy of people praying for a miracle.
As you stepped through the threshold, the noise died down instantly, a ripple of silent, fearful acknowledgement that only followed a man like Tommy Shelby. Your heels clicked against the uneven floorboards, each step echoing in the sudden quiet.
Tommy stopped at a desk with a woman sat behind it, she was pretty, dressed professionally.
‘Morning, Tommy,’ she said, her voice smooth, though you saw her fingers tighten around the pen she held. She spared you a tight, meaningless smile. ‘Morning.’
‘Lizzie,’ Tommy acknowledged, his tone clipped. ‘You remember my wife, Y/N. Don’t you?’ he spoke as if you had met before, but you had no memory of her. However, Lizzie smiled politely.
‘Of course. Will she be with you all day?’ Lizzie asked, her tone was strained, she definitely wasn’t happy you were here.
‘Yes.’ Tommy gave the single word answer with a tight tone, ‘Get the ledgers. We have work to do.’ he ordered, moving towards the office behind her, gesturing for you to follow. You stuck to him like a shadow, keenly aware of the burning gazes from the men on the floor.
In the safety of the private office, you let out a slow breath. Tommy helped you out of your coat and hung it on the coat rack before steering you towards the desk, making you sit in the single chair behind it. Lizzie was back no long after, carrying large folders which you assumed were the ledgers. She gave you a disapproving look as he deposited the ledgers on the desk.
‘Didn’t think you’d like your wife to work, Mr Shelby,’ she quipped, giving him a light smile. But Tommy didn’t even full acknowldge her.
‘That’ll be all Lizzie.’ he dismissed her, her smile dropped as he left the office.
Tommy opened one of the ledgers in front of you, loose sheets of paper stacked neatly inside.
‘These are the stakes, the odds, and the payouts,’ he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that made your skin prickle. ‘Once they are submitted, they are carved in stone. The numbers never change. You understand?’
I nodded quickly, looking over the numbers on the scribbled on the paper.
A loud crash outside the office made me jump. Tommy looked up.
‘Stay here. I need to handle a dispute on the floor. Do not move.’ He stepped away, leaving you alone in the sanctuary of his desk.
The silence of the office was heavy. You looked down at the ledger. Neat columns of numbers, betting slips, and meticulous notes on debts owed. You stared down at the betting sheets on his desk, your brow furrowing. Something didn’t look right. You shuffled through them, noting the same thing on each. Every few rows, the numbers changed, almost as if they had been rubbed out and replaced; you could still see the slight indentations where the original numbers had been. It was pennies, a few pennies from each sheet, different rows each time. But Tommy said once the numbers are written down, they don’t change…
‘Y/N?’ You jumped at the mention of your name, your eyes snapping up to meet Tommy’s. When did he come back in? ‘Everything alright?’ he asked, looking down at the papers on his desk.
‘Oh… It’s nothing…’ I said quickly, I shouldn’t have been looking at the papers, he probably had a reason for whatever this way anyway…
Tommy stepped forward and rounded the desk, looking at the betting slips in front of me. ’You were looking pretty concerned for ‘nothing’.’ he said, staring down at me, a look that made my skin crawl with nervousness.
‘It’s just… Your betting sheets. You said the numbers didn’t change once they were written down.’ I said, my voice shaking slightly. Tommy nodded, his eyes moving from me to the sheets.
‘They don’t,’ he confirmed, his voice firm. I took a breath, tearing my gaze away from him and down to the papers, picking up one sheet.
‘But these do, right there.’ I pointed out one of the rows to him, ‘you can see someone rubbed out the number and put a new one on,’ Tommy snatched the sheet from me and I flinched, clenching my hand. Tommy’s gaze flicked to me for a second before going back to the sheet.
‘How many of these are like this?’ he asked, his voice growing rough. I quickly gathered up all the sheets I had found with the same marks and handed them to him, avoiding his gaze. I could feel it on me, burning through me as I tried to stop myself shaking with fear.
‘Arthur!’ he shouted, making me jump again. There was a crashing outside, but eventually, a man came through the door. Tommy’s brother, Arthur.
Arthur grinned at me, but I kept my head down. Tommy held out the sheets to him.
‘Find out who wrote these, they’re skimming off the top,’ he ordered, Arthur took the sheets from him, flicking through them and nodded.
‘Bastard…’ Arthur growled, leaving the office quickly. I could hear him shouting, but it was muffled when the door was closed. I kept my head down and my hands in my lap, and I still felt like I was in trouble for something that I had caused trouble from this.
Tommy leaned down, his breath fanning over my cheek.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, leaning forward. I thought he wanted to talk to me, to make me look at him. So I turned my head before it could be forced. I froze when I felt his lips touch mine. Gentle, chaste. My eyes widened for a second, but they quickly fluttered closed. His lips were soft, subtle. Tommy didn’t pull away either; he just stayed. Eventually, his lips moved against mine, taking my bottom lip between his. My breath would have hitched if I could have breathed, but I couldn’t; I didn’t want to. Because breathing meant pulling away from this, and I didn’t want that at all.
Eventually, Tommy did pull away from me, and my lips chased after him, only a few millimetres before I stopped myself, my cheeks flaming. Tommy smiled at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek gently.
‘You did well today, spotting that,’ he spoke quietly, ‘but I feel like I’m the one who got rewarded.’ If my cheeks could burn any redder, they definitely were at his words.
‘I’ll deal with this and then I’ll take you home myself.’ he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling away from me completely. I had to stop the noise in my throat that threatened to surface as he pulled away, the lost of his closeness tightening my chest.
‘I’ll be back soon, I promise.’ he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, heading out the door without another word.
I sat at his desk, the feeling of his lips still ghosted over mine.
What had I done?
☕ If you enjoyed this, buy me a coffee and I’ll brew up more filth... 👀🖤
