#the folds the creases jesus
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Be Mine [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE
Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)
The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.
For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.
It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.
The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.
“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”
His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’
Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.
The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.
Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.
Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly.
“It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”
“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.”
“Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”
Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.
“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head.
“I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.”
“There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.
“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.
“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.
“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.
Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.
Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours.
“What?” he snarled.
“Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing.
An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.
“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted.
“Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.
You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.
Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider.
“You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable.
“Huh?”
“At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”
This time it wasn’t a question.
“I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?”
“He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?”
There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.
“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.
“No.” Loki said.
“Excuse me?”
“No,” he repeated.
You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.
The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.
“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper.
Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows.
“Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised.
“I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.
“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.
You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.
You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.
His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable.
Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?”
“I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head.
“I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”
He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.
“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.”
Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.
The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.
“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?”
You swallowed thickly.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut.
“I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”
You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.
Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”
His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”
He raised his eyebrows.
Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.
“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”
The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.
Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.
In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.
“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”
“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.
His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher.
“Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow.
“More...” he rumbled.
“I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”
His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?”
You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.
“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.
A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.
Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.
“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.
Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.
Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last.
Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.
“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.
Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.
“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants.
“Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.
In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest.
“Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,”
You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.
“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.
You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.
“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.”
“Or worse?”
“You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.”
You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”
Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.”
Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.
“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”
Taglist (continued in comments)
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#loki x reader#loki smut#loki laufeyson#loki x reader smut#loki x female reader#loki x you#loki x you smut#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#lokismut#loki oneshot#loki laufeyson smut#loki laufeyson x reader#loki imagine#loki x yn#loki x female reader smut#loki gifs#loki marvel
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shower thoughts.
tags: pussy drunk! seungcheol x reader, established relationship, oral (f receiving), face sitting, pet names (baby, princess) | wc: 1.3k
it had started as a fleeting memory in the shower — memories of an afternoon where seungcheol had eaten you out over and over until you were all out of orgasms to give him. somehow, he could taste you on his tongue now, and if he shut his eyes, he could feel you quiver in his palms.
as he grabs the shampoo, massaging the fragrant liquid into his scalp, his mind wanders to the noises you’d made when you came, and how you gushed with sticky arousal all over his mouth. he feels his cock twitch for attention, looking down to see he’s fully erect. and by the time seungcheol’s grabbing his towel, he’s a man possessed. he steps out of the bathroom to see you right where he’d left you — sitting on the bed, a laptop warming your lap. in quick, hurried strokes, he dries his hair, tossing the towel aside before walking over.
‘hey’ he speaks softly, grazing your cheek with the back of his fingers.
‘hey’ you smile, pulling out an earphone ‘how was your shower?’
‘good. what are you doing?’
‘nothing, just watching something’ he takes a peek, his gaze falling on how your t-shirt (his t-shirt) is riding up to reveal a hint of your panties. it’s your comfy pair.
‘give me a kiss’ he bends to take one, and you know from the moment your lips meet that this isn’t a goodnight kiss. it’s deep, borderline desperate, and it makes you wonder what’s gotten into him.
seungcheol grabs your laptop, shutting it gently, and keeps it aside before getting on top. at no point does he break the kiss, instead sliding his tongue into your mouth to deepen it.
it’s your neck that he tastes next, his pillowy lips latching onto the skin to suck softly. the scent of his shampoo lingers in the air as he makes his way down — to your collarbone, to the curve of your breast, your firm nipples, but he just can’t concentrate.
seungcheol can smell your arousal now, so overwhelmed by it that he abandons his task halfway to make his way down, ripping off your panties and diving straight into your heat. before you even register what he’s doing, his tongue is already on you. his first lick is quick, rushed even, the second less so, his tongue flat and slowly sliding up your core, and on the third, he parts your protruding lips with the tip of his tongue, exploring inside you.
‘you. taste. so. fucking. good’ his voice is thick as he grabs your thighs, pushing them back and apart for better access. you watch as he licks his lips impatiently, snaking his long tongue out, and begins to run it up and down your folds, slurping up the juices that are starting to seep out of you.
he eats it like he’s starving. like it’s his last meal on earth. he’s made this joke before, once when you were discussing what your death row meal would be. it was just a joke then, but with how he’s devouring you now, it may as well have been the truth. he’s insatiable, disappearing between your legs for minutes at a time without so much as coming up for a breath of air. somewhere in the middle, he inserts a finger, his middle, into your hole, moving in and out of you in twisting motions.
‘oh my fucking god’ you gasp, gripping the sheets under you and pulling, the fabric bunching in tight creases ‘t-that feels amazing. fuck cheol, fuck’ seungcheol lives for your praises — the ones you put into words ‘you’re so good at eating pussy' 'your tongue feels incredible’ and the ones he sees in your body — your curling toes, arched back, those breathy pauses in your pretty little moans.
they only spur him on and he’s desperate to make you feel even better. so he takes two fingers, creating an inverted ‘v’ and places them on your pussy to spread your lips apart. ‘jesus’ he groans at the sight of your engorged clit — puffy and poking out from its hood. with a soft kiss, he cushions the nub in between his pillowy lips, and starts sucking. he pulls on it gently, like he’s sipping from a straw. seungcheol doesn’t want to overwhelm you with the sensation, he wants only pleasure for his princess. his pretty, pretty princess.
‘cheollie’ you whine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours ‘you feel so good on my clit’ he smiles, keeping his pace.
‘so so good’ you tangle your fingers in his damp hair, tugging sharply when he switches to feathery little flicks on your nub all of a sudden. ‘fu-hck’ your thighs clamp shut around his face, and without even realising it, you start rocking your hips up and down, grinding onto him. seungcheol groans in approval, letting you know that’s exactly what he wants from you. ‘that’s it, princess. use me to make yourself feel good’ he takes a precious breath to let you know.
so you use him, his tongue matching the fervour of your hips ‘don’t stop, please’ you beg, your moans rising and falling, and then, silence — the one that sets in when you’re almost at the edge. no, no, no. he doesn’t want it like this; he needs to be buried under you when you go over.
‘sit on my face’ he hurries to switch positions, laying down, and in his rush, the band of his underwear gets pulled to expose his cock. pink and swollen, it pokes out of his boxers, lying flat against his toned stomach. seungcheol props his head up on a pillow as you take your seat, holding onto the headboard to distribute your weight so as not to smother him with it.
‘no’ he locks his thick arms around your thighs, ‘sit on me. ride my face. suffocate me. do anything you want. i don’t care. just use me and please, please princess, cum on me’ and pushes you down on him.
is this euphoria? he wonders, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, coating his tongue with your taste. you slide across the ridges of his face — his sharp nose, pointed tongue, his jutting chin — each bringing its own kind of pleasure. he licks you next, dragging his tongue from your taint to your clit, before pushing the tip of his tongue inside your hole. ‘seungcheol, fuck. just keep doing that, don’t stop’ your grab onto his hair with the same intensity he grips the soft flesh of your tummy, squeezing, as you ride him.
‘i’m going to cum. fuck cheol, i’m going to cum all over your pretty face’ you whine as he slaps your ass, making you ride him even faster. he knows you’re there, right at the edge again, so he grabs your hips, steadying you in his strong arms. you clench and relax your cunt till the pressure reaches its crescendo and then, release.
release that shoots through you like bolts of electricity, lighting up every nerve in your brain and body as you spasm with pleasure. release that causes watery ejaculate to gush out of you, and onto seungcheol’s face which he laps up like it’s his reward. you hear him groan at your messy orgasm, and then suddenly, he feels something warm on his stomach. he realises that he’s cum, just a tiny bit, too, and he’s reminded once again of the effect you have on him.
you catch your breath, lifting yourself off him, but he pulls you right back down, not done with his licks until you stop quivering in his palms. finally, a minute later, you climb off, leaving seungcheol laying there with every inch of his face drenched in your fluids, and his stomach wet with his own. seungcheol breathes heavy, his chest heaving as he looks over at you. he licks his lips one last time and laughs ‘i think- think i might need another shower’ he sounds floaty, free, and fucking delighted — like a man finally satiated.
#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#scoups#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#scoups drabble#seungcheol drabble
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reader x sarah x jb where sarah and reader are making out in front of johnbee- he’s in trouble so he doesn’t get to touch 🥺
𐙚🦢🩰⋆.˚❆
“okay, i get it — i’m reckless, alright? i suck, how long is this gonna go on for? you know what this is? it’s cruel. the agreement was that we both get to have her, sarah.” john b scolds, sat with his hands tied by the blue bandana, his blonde girlfriends handiwork. she smirks, pulling away from your mouth, looking at him over your shoulder where you lay panting and nude against her — legs split embarrassingly wide, hole twitching around nothing as she circles at your clit. his mouth practically waters at the sight of your glossy folds, all open and needy — a hole he knows he can stuff well.
“the agreement was that you stop putting your life at risk for this bullshit treasure hunt. suffer the consequences, john b.” sarah hums with a smile, dragging her lips down your ear. “you really could’ve been in my place right now. touching her tits, grabbing her ass, fingering her pussy. but no…” she shrugs and it’s just to rile him up.
“jesus christ.” he pants. “what do you want me to do huh? get down on my knees? sarah i’ll do it.” he shakes his head, brow creased in desperation. seeing a man that was usually so in charge and calm get all urgent just for a taste of your pussy made your legs quake, squeezing more drool from your swollen, puffy pussy lips. “she needs me.” he states.
“do you… need him, babe?” sarah tilts her head with a jokey smile, craning round to look at you. you didn’t know what to say, you did want him — but you didn’t want to let her down so you simply shrug, avoiding all eyes. sarah sighs, rolling her eyes before sliding out from behind you and wandering over to john b, releasing him from the constraint carelessly. “fine. have at it.” she quirks an eyebrow and he marches over, looming over your spread open body.
“do you need me?” he pants, eyes doing all the touching for him. you drag your eyes from sarah and nod pitifully, lip wobbling as you force your legs even wider. he huffs out a smirk, swivelling his head to look at sarah where she stands with her arms crossed in just her seamless bra and panties. “ouch. all that being cruel for nothing, sarah cameron.”
“eat me.” she smirks, coming back over to join the two of you.
“uh-uh, not after that stunt. our pretty girl right here however,” he marvels at you, hands on the insides of your trembling knees holding you open sliding inward to reach your folds where he spreads them, inspecting your holes and pulsing clit. “oh i’m eating it all night.”
𐙚🦢🩰⋆.˚❆
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PREVIOUS PART
Hopelessly Devoted (PART FOUR)
Summary: After spending the remainder of the day at your mother's house restlessly trying to keep you worries at bay, Finn, the youngest member of the Shelby family accompanies you to the Garrison after telling you the news of Tommy's victory. Taking your mother's advice you enter the pub in hopes that you and Tommy will finally be able to talk and clear the air. But with the betrayal Tommy believes you made still firmly at the forefront of his mind, the nights events threaten to take a different turn.
Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood
"Y/N are you listening to me?" your mother asked as you sat at the table beside the window in her kitchen, pulling back the embroidered netted curtains as you peered out onto the empty streets of Watery Lane.
" Yes I'm listening" you huffed back as you let go of the fabric, your hands coming down to rest on your lap as you nervously pulled at your fingers, wishing your thoughts would settle. After leaving Tommy in the cemetery you had the stupid idea to visit your mother, clearly you hadn't had enough gloom for one day. You had been told that morning by Polly to stay home until Tommy and his men had returned. So, ever the sucker for punishment you decided to forgo the cramped bedsit you called home and come here to your childhood home, to your mother who was currently sat across from you, her brows knitted together in frustration at your lack of response to her relentless rambling. She had taken this rare opportunity in which you visited to badger you with endless questions as to what it was you was actually doing with your life. Admittedly, It had been a good distraction from Tommy and the anger still churning in your stomach after your heated row in the cemetery. But what you couldn't seem to distract yourself from was the real reason as to why he followed you there. His ridiculous excuse as to why was exactly that, ridiculous. Just as Tommy had picked up over the years as to when you was lying, you too had picked up on when he was holding back, unable or unwilling to express what was really bothering him. Closed off and straight face was a demeanor he had adopted for many years. The only difference now was he wouldn't let you in when you had once been his first port of call. You thought to yourself as you stood up, aimlessly walking around the kitchen as you opened various draws and pots to further distract yourself whilst your mother watched on, the crease in her brow deepening.
" You need to get your life together Y/N" she said as she walked over to you, nudging you out the way with her hip as she shut one of the cupboard doors you had carelessly left open, her orderly home disrupted by your inability to stop fiddling with things." Find a man, and stop wallowing in self-pity over that Shelby boy" Boy...Jesus, did she still see you as the unruly teens that used to wreck havoc on the streets of Small Heath? " He was trouble then, and he's trouble now" she added as you rolled your eyes feeling the lecture that was coming your way.
" I'm not wallowing" you said crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall, squinting at the window to see if there was any movement outside. The street was quiet, eerily quiet. Was something wrong, had word come back that Tommy's plan had fallen apart?
" Off" she replied, ushering you away from her freshly painted kitchen walls.
" He was never trouble, he just got into trouble" you said as you looked down at your feet, tucking your hair behind your ear. " Or trouble finds him" you mumbled under your breath, defending him like you always had as you bit the corner of your bottom lip, looking up to see the picture of your little brother sitting on the shelf across from you.
" He liked him you know, your father too" your mother said with a sigh, her voice softening as she glanced up to your brother's picture whilst she folded the tea towel in her hand for a second time, a flash of sadness spreading across her face.
" He liked him because he wanted a big brother instead of a sister. And dad always did like a rebel" you replied, a small chuckle leaving your mother's lips as you tried to comfort her in the only way you knew how with your strained relationship.
" Georgie liked him because he made you smile. And your father liked him because he reminded him of you. Two peas in a pod he'd always say. He was convinced you'd get married one day" she said as you sat back down next to the window, your hand coming up to brush through your hair.
" Yeh well things changed, he changed" you said as you felt the past few weeks emotions well in your eyes, threatening to escape in front of the last person you would ever want them to. Shaking her head your mother walked over to you, digging in her apron as she pulled out a small white hankey.
" Here" she said as she sat down handing it to you.
" Don't need it" you said defiantly as you turned your head away in attempt to hide the tears now staining your cheeks.
" Take the bloody rag child and wipe those tears away. They'll do no good sitting there, building up. Just let them out...dear" she said as your bottom lip wobbled, your face reddening as you tried to hold back from completely falling apart.
" Mum..." you sobbed as you covered your eyes unable to keep up with the assured image you always tried to portray in front of her. Standing up your mother walked around to sit next to you, bringing you into her arms for what felt like the first time in a very long time, her chin resting on your head as she held you close to her.
" You may be two peas in a pod but shelling the stubbornness out of you both is enough for anyone to toss you in the bin" she chuckled as you smiled, wiping your tears away with the hand stitched cloth. "He's never stopped being trouble dear but his heart has always been in the right place, right here" she said pointing at yours as you looked up at her. " Don't fret child, he will come back. He's just brewing over his thoughts"
" He's been brewing for five years" you said with a huff as you sat up in your seat handing the hankey back to her.
" Yes we'll he's a man, it's what they do. Talk to him, clear the air. No doubt there's been a fair amount of misunderstandings, hm?" she said as she pushed your hair away from your face, pausing before her eyes darted to the window. " Jesus bloody Christ, it's that Finn Shelby again!" she said abruptly standing up, pulling back the curtains as she furiously knocked on the glass. "Putting sticks down my drain, i won't have him clog it up for a second time" she said as she stormed over to the kitchen counter. " He'll feel the back of my tea towel on those scrawny little legs before he has a chance!" she huffed as she picked up the checkered kitchen towel ready to march outside.
" Wait, wait I'll deal with him" you stood up wiping your cheeks as you walked past her to open the front door. " You're about to have holy hell come down on you" you said stepping down onto the porch as the youngest of the Shelby family was about to put a large stick into the drain, mischievously grinning from ear to ear.
" My brothers said if anyone hits me I'm allowed to hit 'em back twice as hard" he said as he stood up straight peering around you to see the scowl on your mother's face, the tea towel grasped tightly in her hand.
"Your brothers says a lot of things, a lot of things that will get you in trouble" you said as you bent down taking the stick from him.
" Tommy says your mum's a witch. Is she?" He asked, watching your mother squint her eyes at him as she turned to walk back into the kitchen.
" What a witch?" You replied biting your bottom lip, trying to hold back your laugh as he nodded his head in reply. Of course Tommy would say that, you thought to yourself. He and everyone else in the neighborhood had felt the back of her tea towel at least once in their lifetime, earning her a formidable and now whole new other reputation thanks to him.
" Yes, and she cooks up naughty little kids in her big cauldron for shoving sticks down her drain. Tommy should know he nearly ended up feet first into the hot bubbling water for doing the very same thing" you winked to him as his sudden wide-eyed expression relaxed into a toothy smile.
" I think you're telling porkies Y/N" he giggled as you stood up smiling to him " You coming" he said grabbing your hand pulling you with him down Watery Lane.
" Finn wait hang on, where are we going? " you said coming to a stop as he tugged at your hand adamant on continuing. "Finn?"
" The Garrison. We won Y/N. Tommy won!" he said as he smiled to you, your own smile unable to hide itself as relief washed over you, his promised good mood the perfect opportunity to take your mother's advice and finally clear the stagnant air that had been looming over you both for the past five years.
As you both approached the Garrison the laughs and chatter of the punters inside radiated from within the small pub out onto the mud and dirt filled streets of Birmingham, a celebration was in tow for yet another step up in Tommy's never ending endeavor for more control, more power. Pushing the large wooden door open you was met with the smell of sweet tobacco filling the air, a wave of beer and whisky engulfing your senses and what you were pretty sure was vomit, this was Small Heath after all. With a quick glance around the room you spotted Tommy with his back to you talking to Polly on the opposite side of the room. Swallowing harshly you walked forward into the middle of the pub, your hands resting on Finn's shoulders as he led the way when you felt a hand grab your arm spinning you around.
" Arthur!" You said turning your head to face him, your eyes lighting up to see the eldest Shelby standing in front of you unscathed and in one piece." Finn just told me, congratulations" you smiled as Arthur's attention quickly darted behind you, a flash of worry washing over his eyes as you furrowed your brow in confusion at his unfamiliar demeanor. "Arthur?"
" Did he now" he replied as he looked down at his younger brother, taking his hat off then ruffling his hair. " Y/N..." Arthur said as he smoothed down his mustache, his arm resting on your upper back as he started walking you away from the middle of the room and back to the Garrison door.
" Arthur what's going on ?" You quietly asked, taking note of the small sigh leaving his lips.
" Nothing love, nothing" he replied sending you a quick smile before his eyes cast down to the floor ahead of him. " It wont be long until it starts getting rowdy in here. There's been too much drinking, brawling will start soon" he said as he cleared his throat, his hand on the door as he glanced behind his shoulder " Be an angel and take Finn home for us, ay? " Arthur asked as you let out a small laugh in response. Finn had seen more than most grown men ever would in his short eleven years of life, a few potential pub fights was a teddy bears picnic in comparison to what his innocent eyes had already endured. You thought to yourself as you looked up at Arthur, his eyes barely able to meet yours. Something was wrong and you wanted to know what.
" Arthur what's goin.."
" Y/N!" Tommy shouted from across the room cutting you off as the pub suddenly went a deathly quiet.
"Tommy" you smiled as you turned around letting go of Finn as you walked towards him. " Congratulati.." you started to say when you noticed the expression on his face, his jaw clenched, his eyes piercing into you as he stood there staring at you without saying another word as you felt Arthur trying to pull you back from what he knew was about to unfold. "Arthur?" You said turning to him, looking for an explanation as to why everyone had their eyes on you when he gave your forearm a gentle squeeze in a small reassuring manner. Reassuring you for what though?
" You dare to fucking show your face after what you did?" Tommy finally spoke as Polly tried to pull him away, her attempts only brushed off as Tommy stalked forward towards you.
" What? " You replied the heat rising in your cheeks as you met his stare. Confusion spread across you face as your eyes darted around the room to everyone nervously diverting their attention else where, namely the bottom of their drinks or the wooden floorboards below them.
" Tommy not here " Polly said trying to stop him for a second time only to be ignored once again.
" How long had you been planning it, hm?" Tommy asked, now only a few feet from you as you tried to step back when he grabbed your wrist, his mounting anger towards you making the uneasy knot in your stomach tighten tenfold.
" Tommy what...what are you talking about?" you replied as you looked down at his strong grip, his fingers inching further into your flesh.
" You hate me that much?" Tommy said through gritted teeth quietly against your ear, his voice laced with hurt and fury. Pulling your head away you was met with his eyes boring into you, glazed over with a film of unspent tears from the rising anger within him. " You betrayed me" he said quieter than a whisper his voice shaking as he let go of you with a push taking a step back, fearing what he would do next.
" Betrayed you?" You questioned, your eyes widening at the mere suggestion you would do such a thing to anyone let alone to him.
" You fucking betrayed me!" Tommy yelled. His contained anger erupting into a loud bellow that boomed from wall to wall within the small room.
" Out! Out, everyone out!" Polly shouted as the whole pub scrambled through the door leaving you, Tommy, Arthur, Polly and John alone in the Garrison." You too" Polly said as her head snapped to Grace standing in the corner by the bar, her eyes briefly meeting yours as she turned around, placing the white rag in her hands on the counter as she casually walked off.
" Will someone please tell me what's going on? " you asked wiping a lone tear as Tommy scoffed in reply, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his suit jacket. His hands shaking from the fury rapidly coursing through his body as he attempted to light the end of one between his fingers.
" Y/N" Polly said as she hurried over to you, her hand resting on your upper arm. " Y/N, someone let slip about Tommy's plan to take Kimber out. You was seen with his men the other day. Tommy, Tommy thinks.."
" That I let slip?" you replied, your own anger at the accusation now building within you as you stormed over to Tommy sitting on the edge of the table, his thumb rubbing across his brow.
" What you think I told Kimber?!" You said standing in front of him." Tommy they pinned me against the wall, threatened my..."
" I don't want to hear your lies, I don't want to fucking hear them. Danny's dead because of you!" Tommy cut you off as he stood up, his intimidating figure looming over you
" That's enough Tommy!" Polly shouted as your eyes widened.
" Danny's dead? Rosie, the boys..." you said as you looked back to Arthur watching him sniff back his emotions as he downed the glass of whisky in his hand.
" Widowed and fatherless, your doing" Tommy pointed at you, staring you down as you blinked away the tears, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. Not only was he accusing you of betrayal but now he was blaming you for the death of Danny Owen, the boy who used to live only three doors down from you when you were kids.
" Tommy you're talking bullshit" John said defending you as he threw his tooth pick on the floor, pushing the chair in his way to the side. Tempers were high, too much liquor had been drunk. Arthur was right, alcohol only added fuel to the flames.
" Just get the fuck out Y/N" Tommy said ignoring John and anybody else's attempts to reason with him.
" No" You said adamantly as you stood in his way, your voice catching in your throat from the tears pouring down your face." Tommy look at me, please..." you pleaded as you held onto the front of his suit jacket. " You know me. You've known me my whole life. I'd never do this to you" you sobbed as you gently placed your palms on either side of his cheeks, his skin scorching hot from the fury bubbling beneath him."Tommy" you said softly, turning his head to face you as he raised his hands, resting them on your arms while you gave him a small smile, gently rubbing your thumb across his cheek.
"You never loved me" Tommy whispered in your ear, pushing past you as you stumbled back, tripping on the leg of the chair behind you as your hand came down onto a broken whisky glass on the floor, missing the table you hoped would steady your fall.
"Fucking hell!" Polly gasped as she rushed over to you, clutching your hand in hers as blood poured down your wrist whilst Tommy looked on, brushing his hand down his face. " Tommy hand me that cloth" Polly said motioning behind him at the towel siting on the bar counter.
" Just get her out of here"
" Tommy..." his Aunt replied, her eyes wide from his lack of response, from his unrelenting hostility.
"Get her fucking out of here! Do you here me? I never want to see her face around here again. You're fired Y/N, get the fuck out of this town!" he shouted as he turned around, his hands resting on the counter of the bar as his jaw clenched at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. Pushing past his brother Arthur picked up the cloth beside him, giving Tommy a sharp elbow to his back.
" Git" Arthur said through gritted teeth as he turned around, walking back to you and Polly.
" Tommy..." you sobbed as you walked to the door wrapping the cloth around your hand. "Tommy! I didn't do anything I swear" You pleaded when he refused to turn around and look at you.
" Don't you worry love we'll get to the bottom of this" Polly said quietly in your ear as she opened the door not wanting the situation to escalate any further, unsure the love she knew her nephew still had for you enough to stop him from doing something he would regret.
" I'll walk you home" Arthur said as he took your arm.
" No" you replied shaking your head as you turned back to Arthur, John and Polly in front of you, your eyes looking past them to see Tommy still looming over the bar. " No" you answered again turning around, suddenly feeling like an outsider as they all watched you leave. Did they believe the same as Tommy, did they believe you betrayed them? As the door to the Garrison shut Polly stormed over to her nephew about to swing at him when Arthur pulled her away.
" You fool, you fucking fool!" Polly hissed, her eyes boring into him as her face trembled with anger. Grabbing her bag Polly stormed out as John followed behind, leaving Tommy with his own choice of insults.
" You're on your own with this one brother" Arthur said picking up his coat as he marched outside, slamming the door behind him.
" Fuck!" Tommy yelled as he threw the glass beside him at his reflection in the mirror, his nostrils flaring as his knuckles turned white from the strain of his clenched fists.
" Tommy?" Grace said as she reappeared from around the corner, slowing approaching him as she gingerly looked around the empty pub. Snaking her hand up his back, she rubbed the side of his neck as she placed the other on his chest, her head resting gently on his shoulder. If her intention from the beginning was to stay back and console him after the bitter row she knew Tommy would have with his family she was in for a rude awakening. It only took a few seconds after feeling the heat of her body pressed against him for Tommy to push her hands away, not entertaining nor giving her an ounce of his attention before he stormed out the Garrison doors leaving her alone and seething for the second time that day. Had Tommy finally realised his mistake?
It's only me" Polly said as she knocked at your front door. It had been a week since that night at the Garrison, the night when Tommy accused you of the unthinkable. Pulling the bed sheets off you walked over to the door opening it then quickly returning to the spot you had barely moved from for the past week, back to staring at the small crack in the wall beside you. Walking in Polly let out a sigh as she looked around the darkened bedsit. Marching over to the opposite side of the room she threw open the curtains, unbolting the window to let in some much needed fresh air. "Tea?" She asked cheerfully as you pulled the covers up to your chin. " You haven't touched any of the food I brought you " she said as she opened the glass bottle of milk in the small basket, its pungent smell making her eyes water as she quickly discarded the contents down the sink. " Y/N?" She said walking over, sitting beside you as she pushed your hair away from your face. You were pale, the colour from you drained. Had you even slept? She thought to herself as she turned your chin to look at her, the wells of your eyes filled with tears. "Oh love, come here" she said as she pulled you up into her arms. The warmth of her embrace comforting you the same as it did when she would cradle you in her arms after your father's death.
"Tell me again love" she said as she collected your hair in her hand, twisting it around her finger into one large curl.
" I've already told you Pol. Kimber's men, they approached me after I left the Garrison. Told me they heard Tommy was up to something and that if he didn't play by the rules both our lives were on the line. Pol, he put my name out there, they knew who I was" you sobbed looking up at her as she wiped the tears from your face with her thumb.
" Fucking idiot" she huffed under her breath thinking about her nephew as her brain ticked over, trying to think of her next plan of action. " When did he tell you he was going to make a move on Kimber?" Polly asked, she was determined to get to the bottom of this mess.
" The day after his birthday. He wanted me to write down the dates John gave when I saw the black star in his diary"
" And you're sure you didn't write that black star down yourself?"
" I'm sure " you sniffed as Polly's head turned to look out the window. " Y/N, does Tommy's diary always stay in the betting shop?"
" No, yes...I don't know, he takes it with him sometimes, to the Garrison" you said as you sat up straight to what you really wanted to say. " Pol I was talking with my cousin who lives in London, her landlord has a new letting advertised " you said as you reached into your bed side table pulling out a piece of paper then handing it to her.
" A train ticket to London King's Cross for today, one minute past noon" she said as her hand dropped into her lap, her eyes widening.
" I can't stay here, you heard him. He never wants to see me again. Small Heath belongs to him, I'm not welcome here anymore" you said as you swallowed back your tears. "I have a few savings I can use while I find work, this place never cost much to rent" you said as you looked around your small bedsit.
" Fuck him and his weak threats. Because that's what they are Y/N, weak. He won't do a thing" Polly said as she folded the ticket back in half throwing it beside her onto the bed as she grabbed your face in her hands." I will sort this out" She said nodding her head in attempts to reassure you.
" Polly I've already packed"
" Wait for me until the last minute, if I'm not on the platform then you go love" she said as she brought you back into her arms, squeezing you tight. You may not be blood but Polly always treated you as one of her own, and the one thing she wasn't willing to do was let you turn your life upside down for the sake of her nephews deluded accusations. Standing up Polly walked over to the door, hooking her handbag on her arm. " Pretty sure I saw a rat lurking around the Garrison. We're long overdue a good culling, don't you think?" She smiled sending you a wink as she fixed her hat on her head, shutting the door behind her. Falling back into bed, you pulled the covers around you, your head turning to face the wall as your eyes fixed on the crack you had been endlessly staring at, wishing you had as much confidence in Polly's abilities to get to the bottom of what felt like a neverending pit of hopelessness and despair.
Leaning against the side of the Garrison bar with a cigarette resting between her lips, Grace lit a match when the sound of the pub's heavy wooden doors swung open and a gust of wind blew out the flame in front of her eyes. "We're not open yet" she huffed in irritation as she looked up to see Polly standing by the doors, removing her hat from her dark brown locks.
" Why don't you pour us both a drink " Polly smiled as she graciously sat down at one of the chairs in the middle of the room, pulling out a long sharp pin from her hair. Polly had never been a gambling woman, but she was willing to take a bet that the ace up her sleeve was worth the risk. Or as they called it in the gambling world, calling someone's bluff.
" Ever heard of knocking?" Tommy said as he sat up in his office chair flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette in the small glass dish beside him as Polly stormed in.
" There he is" she said with a satisfied smirk on her lips as she walked over to his desk " Boss of the Peaky Blinders, King of Small Heath and now the proud owner of Billy Kimber's business. Was is worth losing the only thing that truly matters to you?
" What do you want Polly?" Tommy huffed as he opened his pocket watch. Twenty to twelve, he noted as he snapped it closed, his hand coming up to rub the bar of stress sitting along his forehead.
" I've just been to see Grace" Polly replied as she dropped her bag on his desk. " You're not so clever Tommy" she added as she crossed her arms. "She didn't half scurry out of there when I told her you'd be coming for her, gun loaded after hearing what I just heard. You got played Tommy" she said pulling out his diary in front of him, turning the pages back to the black star noted down a week ago. " Y/N wasn't the only person you told about your plans, was she?" So caught up in your own bitterness and self-pity you overlooked that scheming little wench that's been digging her claws into you for the past few months " Polly said as Tommy's brows furrowed, his throat suddenly going dry as he looked at the small black star in front of him. " Called her bluff... She's been working with Campbell. She's the one that betrayed you, she's the reason your plans fell apart" Polly seethed, slamming the book shut as Tommy's eyes widened at the realisation whilst Polly stepped back watching the wheels turn in her nephew's brain. " Yeh let that sink in. The girl who has been hopelessly devoted to you since you were teens, still is. The love that poor girl bears for you has no match" she added enforcing her point, letting him feel the guilt and pain he had unfairly forced upon you for the past five years.
" Call the train station, tell them to stop all the trains" Tommy panicked, brushing his hands through his hair as he abruptly stood up.
" What?" Polly replied as she moved to the side watching Tommy frantically put his coat on.
" Y/N's getting on the train to London Kings cross in ten minutes" he said feeling a heavy surge of nausea settle in the pit of his stomach.
" You bloody knew? Do you also know every time that girl takes a breath?" Polly sighed as she pinched the middle of her brow." Tommy I was meant to meet her, I won't get there in time and neither will you" she said as she grabbed hold of his arms.
"I'll run. And believe me, if I could know everything she does every minute of the day I would" Tommy replied as he put his peaked cap on opening the door to his office.
" Jesus fucking christ" Polly mumbled under her breath." It's too late, you're five years too late!" She shouted to him as she hurried out his office after him.
"Then I'll spend the next five years making things right " Tommy shouted back as he ran out the betting shop onto Watery Lane.
"London Kings Cross now boarding" the rail dispatcher shouted blowing his whistle as you glanced back behind you.
" Mam, your bags" a young employee said as he approached you, offering you help as your eyes darted around the platform, suddenly realising you was the only passenger left standing there.
" What's the time?" you asked him as you both walked to the the carriage door.
" Twelve mam, the train will be leaving in one minute" he replied opening the door, placing your bag inside as he gave you his hand to help you up the large step. The last minute, you had waited just as Polly said. Turning around you watched as the train door closed, your choice to leave cemented as the sound of the lock closed on the opposite side.
" Hey stop the train. Stop that fucking train!" Tommy shouted as he ran onto the platform, slamming his hands on the side of the carriage as he walked along the side of the train trying to open each door when the whistle blew.
"Sir, Sir! Step away, the train is about to leave" The rail worker instructed as he grabbed Tommy's arm pulling him away as the engine started.
" Here, here take it!" Tommy said holding onto the man's suit jacket as he pulled out a bundle of cash pushing it into his chest as he looked back, his eyes widening in panic." No no no, Y/N!" Tommy shouted letting go of the employees suit jacket as the bank notes he was holding against his chest floated down to the platform floor, the screeching sound of the train wheels turning muffling his desperate calls for you.
Sat in the carriage you clutched onto your bag, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as the train started to leave, feeling as is your heart was parting with everything and everyone you had ever known and loved.
" Probably a late comer" an elderly gentleman chuckled to his wife as them and a few other passengers curiously looked out their window at the commotion outside.
" Y/N!" Tommy shouted desperately as he started to run along the platform, banging his fists on the sides of the train. "Y/N wait!" Tommy yelled stopping in his tracks, unable to keep up as the horn blew and a large cloud of smoke funneled along the top of the train. Sitting back in your chair you turned to face the window, wiping the tears away from you blurry vision, the panel for Small Heath passing you by, the final goodbye.
NEXT PART
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#tommy shelby#thomas sheby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic
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Cola
Chubby!Francisco Morales x fem!reader
Summary: Frankie loves how you taste so sweet…. “My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola”
Content and warnings: Pussy eating like a mad man, ass eating, madly in love, desperately horny, feral Frankie, object insertion, fucked with a foreign object, don’t do this at home, premature ejaculation 💕
Immersivity: reader is AFAB and wears dresses, uses she/her
A/n: inspired by all them pics of Pedro in the Coca Cola shirt… yummy. Finals are DONE and it’s time for my return after a month of no fics!
Special thanks to @hornystan for proofreading and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for this amazing header! Thank you for making my return so special
Support writers, reblog and comment!
*************
Surely, this was what heaven was like.
Sprawling green meadows and rolling hills, your handsome husband flying you out on a helicopter to a private property. A wicker basket full of a picnic he packed himself had been tossed aside in favor of you humping Frankie’s leg as you both laid on the quilted blanket.
“Baby,” Frankie chuckles, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched up a little as you peppered his scruffy beard with kisses. Sunshine warmed your back in your red sundress, Frankie’s large hands pushing it up and over the swell of your ass cheeks. “We haven't even had lunch yet.”
“Don’t care, need you.” You mutter between kisses, desperately rutting against your dear lover like a bitch in heat.
“But the ice will melt!”
“Don’t. Care.” You kiss his sweet, pudgy face covered in salt and pepper facial hair. “Need. You.”
Frankie laughs again, but his strong arms lift you off his full tummy. “Baby, it’s hot out,” he smiles and sits up, prompting you to do the same despite your cute little pout. “C’mon, have a drink.” He reached into the basket where a few cola bottles sat in a tin bucket? full of ice next to some sandwiches and fruit he cut up himself, just for you. Sweet, sweet man. You packed his favorite, homemade red velvet cupcakes. The cream cheese icing was sitting in the iced tin along with the cola, ready to be added to the cupcakes, nice and chilled.
He opens a bottle, placing the lid inside the basket, careful not to litter, but you don’t drink right away. Instead, you watch as his hands flex to open another bottle, tilting his head back to chug it. His profile was immaculate. Your eyes scan down, taking in the curve of his nose, his softened jawline, plush lips wrapped around the tip of the bottle… but quickly move to his throat. He was a marvel, Adam's apple bobbing and a small trickle of cola down his neck…
With a refreshed, “ah!” Frankie places his trash in the basket, folds in his creasing stomach twisting as he turns. When he looked back, his eyes went wide. First, his eyes went to your discarded panties. Then to you. There you sat, legs spread open and bent, holding your coke bottle in one hand and pumping your desperate, needy pussy with the other. “Jesus, baby…” He licks his lips and you lament the leftover sweetness on his skin wicked away before your tongue could taste how the sugar mixed with his sweat.
“Frankie…” You whine, desperate and mewling for his touch, your desire so intense there was no way you could wait for lunch to end. No way in hell. Tears pricked at your eyes from the burn of the sun and the overwhelming need you had for him. It was always like this with Francisco, intense and burning and all-consuming even after all these years. It didn’t matter, you still fucked like there was no one else on the planet. To him, and certainly to you, there wasn’t.
Frankie mumbled a swear under his breath, his own chest heaving and already tight pants growing tighter. He orders you to lay down and like a good girl, you obey but he stops you. Frankie takes off his hat and plops it down on your head. “For your eyes.” With that, he kisses your lips and you get to taste the lingering traces of his drink. Then, he pushes you down.
*
You clutch the cold, undrank coke bottle in one hand, Frankie’s sweaty brown curls in the other, the bill of his hat protects your eyes from the sun. You were two orgasms in, drenched in sweat and probably smelling terrible, but he didn’t care.
“Baby?” Frankie asked, making your eyes flick down to him. His eyes were wide and wet, intense and brown. Fuck, he was handsome.
You’re panting, but answer him. “Yeah?”
“I’m real thirsty…”
Normally, you would assume he’s talking about wanting to drink your cum, lap at your pussy as you squirt all over him, hips bucking against his mustache… but honestly, it was hot and you assumed he wanted a drink.
“Here” You hand him the coke bottle in your hands sweetly, sitting up as you do but Frankie orders you to lie down as he grabs it.
You look at him confused but do as he says. Frankie always took care of you, you trusted him, so you laid back down on the heavy quilt, feeling the grass move under the weight of your head.
Knelt before you, Frankie looked a bit of a mess. His curls were all over the place, brown curls every which way, as sweaty as his beard was wet. It wasn’t even that hot a day, but you were working up an appetite.
“You belong to me, right?” He asks you, eyes roaming over your body up and down in your pretty sundress. He looked like he was about to eat you alive, like it was taking everything in him right now not to pounce on you like a werewolf. Francisco’s hands move up and down your bent legs, a sheen of sweat gliding them down, fingernails lightly digging into the meat of you r thighs as if only a thread of sanity was preventing him from digging his claws in and making you subject to his insatiable hunger.
“Yeah baby.” You whisper, breathy but without hesitation. “Every inch.”
Francisco's eyes were locked into yours, pupils black as night, threatening to swallow the whites of his eyes. “Tilt your hips up for me.”
Confused but obedient, you feel your brows furrow as you reach under yourself and hold your hips up. Your eyes couldn’t leave his, not if you tried, his hands so steady and sure he didn’t even need to look down as he slowly inserted the tip of the opened coke bottle into your tight hole. You gasped, though not so much at the intrusion; his fingers hadn’t stretched you yet, but you were used to taking his whole cock. No, the bottle was cold. Not freezing, not after being out of the ice a few minutes, but cold. Francisco pauses, eyebrows cocked in a question of your comfort.
You didn’t want him to stop. “Keep going.”
With a growl, it takes everything in him not to shove the full bottle straight up your cunt, but he knows better. Instead, he took his time. The first time he inserted the foreign object. Once he knew you were okay, all bets were off. Francisco vigorously pumped you, forcing your eyes to tear away from his as you lost yourself in pleasure, feeling the cool drink pour into your channel.
“Such a needy little pussy… she’s so desperate, isn’t she? She just needs to be stretched and filled all the time…”
“Fuck! Frankie! Shit, that feels - ohmyfuckinggod - so good! You feel so good, fuck, I love you so m- shit!” You were approaching a third orgasm, the fizzing of the carbonation a strange sensation in your sensitive insides, and his cock hasn’t even been inside you yet. Frankie couldn’t stop staring at your pussy, licking his lips and palming the erection in his jeans. He had so far been neglected, edging himself in order to bring you, and subsequently him, as much pleasure as possible. Your pleasure was his, your lust was his, your pretty cunt was his to do as he pleased. He could play games with you, shove whatever he wanted into whatever holes and you’d let him… but Frankie didn’t get off on humiliation, he got off on you.
He watched your pussy lips repeatedly swallow the bottle, bits of coke and cum leaking out of you as he began to overwhelm your body. His hand squeezed his dick, throbbing in his pants and he knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d have to recuperate and fuck your face into the grass after lunch. Right now, though… he was thirsty.
Frankie yanked your hands out from under you, pulling the bottle out as you whimper and feel the leftover spill all over your pussy and thighs. That would be annoying later, but that didn’t matter now, not when your loving, adorable husband was dropping to his stomach and latching his lip around your hole. Frankie was drinking coca cola out of your cunt.
He lapped and sucked and licked and drank, the pop fizzling out on your pussy lips as Francisco, whining and crying into your cunt as he came, desperately licked every inch of you. He needed to make this last, he needed to taste every drop, tasting your thighs for the sweet you were so desperate to suck off his lips a moment ago. His tongue was impossible to please, spreading your asscheeks to taste what had trickled down. Only when he seemed to run out of energy, his orgasm satiated, did he slow. You could feel the wetness from his eyes on your lips.
“I just love you so fucking much.” He kissed your swollen, fucked out pussy and closed his eyes, head resting on your thigh as his eyes drooped. He must’ve really tuckered himself out. “So sweet for me.”
*************
Please consider reblogging, if this flops I’ll scream
Inspo comes from Ozzie’s amazing Joel fic, beer bottle insertion
If this does well I’ll write part 2 with reader licking that cream cheese off his dick….
Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me through a difficult month, it has not always been easy between school, and everything that happened, but I got through it and I’m looking forward to something new. I finished up all my assignments and papers even though it was absolute chaos lol and now all I have left is a couple online next semester and then I graduate. 💕💕💕💕
Each and everyone of you so so much, please take care of yourselves!
#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales smut#Francisco morales#francisco morales smut#Francisco morales x reader#triple frontier#triple frontier smut#francisco catfish morales#Francisco catfish morakes smut#chubby Frankie
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being in a secret relationship with rudy and having to limit your scratching during sex so he can be shirtless for scenes, once he's done filming ready and him go at hard but the following morning rudy gets called in for a retake and shit hits the fan
hush hush
Pairing- Rudy pankow x fem!reader
Summary - above ^
Warnings- scratching, biting, sexual intercourse, fingering, hand job. 18+ content
A/n- apologies for any grammar or mistakes, haven’t written in over 6-8 months. Please leave feedback 💗
“I’m done” Rudy states, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that" He stutters the second he sees the colour drain from your skin. "I meant filming is done”.
You let out a loud exhale and whacked his arm with the back of your hand. “Jesus, way to give a girl a heart attack”. He let out a chuckle and his warm breath tickled the skin on your neck, his grabby hands pulling your body as close to him as humanly possible.
“I have waited a long 6 months to feel your nails on my skin, I am going to devour this body of yours” He purred, enveloping your lips with his.
There was no fight for dominance this time, your tongue submitting to his in a matter of seconds. His large hands gripping the mound of flesh on your backside, urging you to jump up onto the desk behind you.
“Right here?” you moaned, letting your head fall back to grant him more access to your neck. His teeth nibbling at your skin whilst leaving behind small purple bruising. He hummed against your neck; words lost in the back of his throat as he his taste buds went into overdrive from the taste of your sweet flesh.
You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, the buckle of his belt sending shivers down your spine.
Your relationship was a secret, the two of you choosing to keep things hush hush until he had finished filming and you could both have a moment to yourself to discuss what you wanted from each other.
It was nice the way it was, you could spend all weekend in bed and gaze into each other’s eyes without the prying from your friends and family. He had gotten really close with his obx crew; you knew he wanted to introduce you to everyone as his ‘girlfriend’.
“Hey, get your head back into the game. Did you not hear me? I am done filming, no more being cautious.” He growled, gripping your jaw tightly. His eyes had darkened with lust, his body warm under the skin of your thighs.
“Take your shirt off” You ordered, he had to always wear a shirt when you made love. You were prone to scaring his gorgeous skin under the scratching of your claws. "It's me who is doing the devouring".
His shirt was across the room in seconds, his hands immediately tugging at the suddenly suffocating material of your dress. Helping him to yank it off your body and onto the floor. His eyes drinking in the curves and creases of your flawed body.
Your lips found their rightful place on the curve of his neck, teeth digging into the soft flesh. You could taste the salt from his damp skin, his fingers reaching under the band of your knickers until he could feel the warm wet juices that drenched the black silk. “Fuck” he groaned, the heat from his breath hitting the bare skin of your breasts.
Your nipples hardened under his gaze and the groans of pleasure caused your hips to buck towards his fingers that touched your pussy oh so delicately. “Please” you whined, your body buzzed with excitement and lust. He pressed his digits against your sensitive nub, you let out a shriek of excitement and your nails dig into the skin of his back. “That’s it baby girl” he urged, fingers sliding through your wet folds until he was so deep inside of you that you shouted incoherent words.
It didn’t take him long, he had you a bubbling mess within minutes of his fingers arching and stroking the inside of your pussy. Your nails leaving sharp red marks down this back.
Your fingers laced around his cock that pressed harshly against the confinements of his jeans. A shudder running through his body as you tugged him free, pre cum staining his boxers. “That looks uncomfortable, let me help” you whispered, his lips pressing against yours as you moved your hand up and down his shaft.
Both his hands coming down onto the table to hold himself steady, his lips never leaving yours as you tugged and rubbed. The head of his penis reddening as he came close to the end, but instead of him letting you finish him off. He pulled your hand away and griped the small of your back.
Pulling you harshly against him until the tip of his penis sat directly at your soaking entrance, he grabbed your legs and brought heels of your feet to the edge of the table. His eyes taking in the sight of you naked and spread in front of him, he reached into your small purse that sat beside you and grabbed a condom.
You watched intently as he pulled it over his cock, his eyes landing on you as he finished. “Fuck me Rudy” you begged, he pushed himself into you without a second thought.
The sounds of your moans filled the small room, his cock entering you with a slow lazy thrust at first. Your fingers racking through his hair, lips pressed firmly against his and tongues caressing one another. He began to speed up as your nails danced against his back once again, his arm coming around to hold you against him as he pounded into you.
You were both a sweaty mess, your hair sticking to the back of your neck as he nibbled on your collar bone. The feeling of his tip hitting your g spot over and over again had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
His thumb rubbing lazy circles against your clit. “Oh yeah, oh Rudy, I think- I- think I’m gonna cum” you stuttered, wrapping your arms around his neck and he squeezed you against him tighter. Your breasts pressed firmly against his chest.
The sound of your ass cheeks hitting the desk and the sloppy sounds of his cock moving in and out of your pussy tipped you over the edge. “Shit! I- shit RUDY!” You yelped, black and white spots blur your vision, and your body shook with pleasure.
Your heart racing and sweat dripping down your forehead. “Yeah baby, scream my name. I’m coming, fuck- yeah” he groaned, he too reaching his climax as he clung to you for dear life.
You could feel him empty himself inside the condom, his cock twitching against your swollen walls. The both of you never let go of one another until the vision was clear and both your hearts calmed to a steady pace.
“Jesus, Rudy. I fucked your back” you gasped; the deep red lines decorated his back. He shrugged gripping your chin between his fingers. “No more filming baby, I want you to do that to me every night” he laughed, your lips once against pressed to each other.
---
“Wait, what do you mean?” The morning groggy voice of Rudy awoke you from your slumber. You searched around the room but couldn’t see your boyfriend, pulling the covers away from your body you began to stand.
“Fuck!”
The door opened and he stood in the entrance, he was dressed in sweats and a white shirt. Annoyance written all over his features. “What happened?” You question, making your way over the room and wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I’ve just been called for a retake” he groans into your hair. You exhale and give his collarbone a kiss. “It’s alright, I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m sure it’ll only be a few hours”.
What you had thought would be a few hours turned into several hours because it turned out to be a beach scene. The second he took his shirt off without even thinking and the gasps coming from his cast mates, he knew he had ruined the secret relationship.
“Damn Rudy, who did this to you” shouted Chase, both he and Maddi rushing over to inspect the damage you had left not even 24 hours earlier.
“Shit, I forgot about those” Rudy groaned, he turned to look into the mirror and the lines where still as red and deep as the night before. “Well, the retake scene is going to have to be a full reshoot” the director stated.
Rudy could see the annoyance written on his face, the snippy tone coming from him was not good. “Can’t I just wear a shirt for this scene, and we edit something into the other part of the scene? I’m sorry man, you said it was all done” Rudy apologises, reaching to the pull the shirt back over him.
“Hold up. I wanna take a better look! I also wanna know who’s this freaky lady friend of yours” Drew shouted, rushing from his seat across the room. Everyone began to close in on him, taking in the art you had left behind.
“It’s nothing, let’s not talk about it! We have a scene to retake.” Rudy laughed, urging for the conversation to be over. He knew they had an idea on who it was, no other friend of his had been to set more then you had.
They kept nodding when Rudy would call you his best friend. But they all had that feeling, there was something going on. And this time they would get it out of you.
“I bet I know who it’s from” JD said, giving him a wink from across the room. Rudy looked away but a tinge of red began to appear on his cheeks.
“Aww your blushing! It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Madi gushes, clapping her hands together like a high school girl. Rudy shakes his head and begins to walk away from the conversation. He wasn’t going to admit to it, not until he had spoken to you and warned you about what had happened.
“Knew it!” Shouted Chase, Rudy rushes to a quiet place and pulls his phone out. Pressing the icon of your photo in the call log. Not even 3 rings later your voices echoes through.
“They know”.
“Knew it!” Shouted Chase, Rudy rushes to a quiet place and pulls his phone out. Pressing the icon of your photo in the call log. Not even 3 rings later your voices echoes through.
“They know”.
#jj maybank#outerbanks rudy#rudy pankow#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow smut#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x you#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x reader#outerbanks netflix#outerbanks smut#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks cast
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I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 10)
(Part one) (part eleven)
playlist | pinboard | ao3
um. So. I don’t know how to write kissing. And like…yeah, just have whatever this is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
(More notes and taglist under the cut)
Steve woke up that evening with his face pressed into Robin’s side, red creases on his cheeks from the folds of her t-shirt. She was half curled around him, a hand in his hair and one leg thrown over his, the other kneeing hard into his thigh.
He could faintly hear the doorbell ringing, pressing his face back into Robin’s side and huffing. Robin squirmed slightly, tugging in his hair, and Steve reached up, moving her hand away from his head. “Your dad gonna get that?”
Robin shook her head, here eyes still closed. “You go, M’not getting up.”
“Gee, thanks, Robs,” Steve muttered, sitting up and stretching, grabbing one of Robin’s t-shirts and pulling it over his head. It had Freddy Mercury on it.
His feet felt heavy as he made his way downstairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and opening the door. It was raining—a quiet kind of rain—and there was Kendall, Eddie hovering behind her, his face ducked and his cheeks pink.
“Oh,” Steve whispered, looking Eddie over. Kendall just smiled and waved slightly.
“Thought I got the wrong house,” she admitted, looking around again. She had done the the first time, too. “Thought you lived up in Loch Nora, not here.”
“I do—this is…my, uh…my friend’s house. She’s upstairs. Sleeping. Yeah,” Steve mumbled, looking down, his face flushed and his brain still fuzzy from sleep.
Kendall nodded, looking Steve over, and then over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. Steve turned to see Robin stumbling down the stairs, just in boxers and her other Madonna t-shirt, since Steve had left the first one at Eddie’s. “Steve?”
Steve glanced back at Eddie, who caught his gaze before looking away again, his eyes a bit glassy. Steve’s probably were, too. “Hm?”
Robin’s eyes widened and she stopped next to Steve, her cheeks pink. Steve followed her gaze to Kendall, his eyebrows pressing together. “Robs? Hello?”
Robin didn’t look over at him, just staring down at the floor in front of her. “Who’s this?”
“Eddie. And Kendall.”
“Huh. Uh…cool. I’m gonna, um…”
Kendall glanced back at Steve and then Eddie, before motioning to her truck with one hand, a quizzical look on her face. Robin nodded and pushed past Steve.
“Be back in a sec, Eds, gonna go and show…?” Kendall trailed off.
“Robin,” Robin supplied.
“Yeah—gonna go show Robin the car. For a bit.”
Eddie’s face scrunched up and he rolled his eyes. “You’ve still gotta drive me home in that, you know.”
Kendall flipped him off.
There was a pause of silence, and then Eddie sighed, pressing his face into his hands. “Jesus, okay—look, man, could I…Come in?”
Steve hesitated. This wasn’t his house, and he didn’t know how Mr. Buckley felt about visitors, yet, but he eventually nodded against his own better judgment, stepping aside for Eddie to walk through into the kitchen. A part of him wanted to let Eddie talk, to hear him apologize—if that was what he had come to do—and to say he forgave him. Because he already had, even if it still made him upset to think about it. But the rest of him wanted Eddie to leave—so that Steve could feel bad for himself just for a little while.
Eddie leaned against the counter, closing his eyes and sighing.
“Steve…”
“Don’t. It’s—it’s fine—“ Steve started, his words sounding choked off and strained. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad over this. The thought of that made him feel sick to his stomach, even if Eddie had hurt him. He didn’t want Eddie to feel guilty anymore.
“Stop,” Eddie said softly, opening his eyes, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach over to Steve, but he didn’t, keeping his arms crossed. “I want—I want to apologize, okay? Because—fuck I feel…I feel horrible, Steve..”
Steve shrunk into himself slightly, shaking his head. His insides were crawling around under his skin, twisting and pinching and curling in ways that made his head spin and his hand shake. He was well aware of the tears falling down his face—how Eddie was looking at him like he was something important to him that he had broken, something that he could never get back--but he refused to acknowledge them. Eddie could have him back—he could have all of Steve back, he just needed to ask.
He just needed to let Steve know that’s what he wanted. That he wanted Steve. And Steve would have been okay with it if he lied, too.
“You don’t have to, it’s not your fault,” Steve whispered, trying to steady his voice and failing. “I—“
“Steve, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, his voice so so soft. “It was. I…I’m sacred, okay? And I know that doesn’t excuse what I did, but…I’m scared that you’re still…King Steve, or whatever. So I…was trying to get you to leave. To hate me, maybe, get mad at me. But you just got sad, and…and I was so fucking scared. That you only like me because…because you want to hurt me in the end. Or at least I think you like me?”
“I do,” Steve whispered back, his words caught in his throat as he held back a sob. “I wouldn’t do that I—I wouldn’t—that’s not me, please..” he knew he sounded a bit hysterical, but the fact that Eddie still didn’t trust him, even after everything, made him want to curl up some place far away and die. And he knew—like Robin had told him—that him being nice now didn’t change what he had done in the past, but he was trying to be better. And being better was hard when people didn’t look at you any different—when they refused to look at you any differently—than you once were.
“Hey, hey—Steve…” Eddie sighed and held his hand out, fingers shaky and unsure. Steve took it instantly, the metal rings Eddie always wore feeling cold against skin. “I know. I mean—it’s hard, okay? You were an asshole, and I know you’re different now, but I’m maybe a little bit in love with you now, and I don’t want to get my heart broken. Which is shitty, because I hurt you over that.”
“Please stop apologizing—“ Steve tried to cut in, and maybe he was actually crying, now, because Eddie had said that he loved him, if only a little bit. But Eddie just kept talking.
“And—and I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway. I shouldn’t have done that, and I get if you don’t want to…I don’t know, talk to me again? Hang out anymore? But—but I think Wayne misses you or something, which is weird, and—“
Steve grabbed Eddie’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together to shut him up. For a moment, it was like kissing a fucking wall with his still Eddie was, his whole body tense, but then he sank into it, his hands digging into Steve’s hips.
He moved away from the counter, shuffling them so rind until Steve’s back was pressed to it, but he was still mostly still, like he wasn’t sure what he was meant to do.
“Gotta kiss back,” Steve muttered into Eddie’s lips, one hand reaching up into Eddie’s hair and tugging lightly, which made Eddie let out the quietest, most desperate noise, and Steve felt himself unravel a bit inside. “If you want.”
“Course I want to, baby,” Eddie whispered, pulling away. “This isn’t my first time kissing someone.”
Steve felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he frowned and tugged Eddie back. “You’re acting like it is.”
Eddie scoffed and held onto Steve’s hips a bit tighter, almost in a way that stung, but Steve just leaned into the touch anyways.
“Do you want this or not?” Eddie muttered, that bitchy tone creeping back into his voice, almost like he couldn’t help it. Steve felt his cheeks flush at that and he nodded, eyeing Eddie over. It was kind of hot, he thought—which was immediately followed up by no, that’s weird.
Steve moved back to press his lips against Eddie’s, tugging at his hair a bit harder this time so that maybe Eddie would take the hint and just fucking kiss him back already. And Eddie did, but the sound he made was now closer to a whimper—and Gods, they really shouldn’t be doing this in Robin’s kitchen, it felt weird. And Steve told that to Eddie, who just laughed and bit at his bottom lip, tugging him closer, and Steve laughed, not really making any attempt to push him away.
“Eds—“ Steve tried to say, gasping, and Eddie hummed in response, biting his lower lip again, his tongue running across it.
“Hm?”
“We should—we should,” Steve shivered slightly when one of Eddie’s hands slipped under his shirt. “We should stop.”
“You want to?” Eddie asked gently, pulling away. Steve nodded, and Eddie let go, stepping back. “Yeah, cool. Alright.”
“We could…go back to yours?” Steve offered, shrugging, hating the way his cheeks flushed bright red when Eddie grinned and laughed again.
“Yeah, sure. It’s late, Wayne’s not home.”
“Right,” Steve said quickly, nodding, and this was really fucking awkward now, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind.
“So we…wait for Kendall and Robin to come back?”
Eddie nodded. “Are they, like…?”
Steve laughed slightly and shook his head. “Knowing Robin, they’re probably just sitting there while she talks Kendall’s ear off.”
Eddie nodded, before eyeing Steve over with a small smile on his face. “You have weird friends.”
Steve just smiled back and sighed. “I do, don’t I?”
This isn’t the final part, there’s more of the story guys :)
as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥️
taglist which is open:
@estrellami-1
@randombibitch
@insteviewetrust
@anne-bennett-cosplayer-cosplayer
@hack-saw2004
@lolawonsstuff
@goodolefashionedloverboi
@slowandsteddie
@ellietheasexylibrarian
@mugloversonly
@littlebluejane
@zombiethingy
@steddie-island
@rozzieroos
@ohimamarigold
@origamiplushie
@mamafaithful
@stillfullofshit
@gleek4twd
@swimmingbirdrunningrock
@anaibis
@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx
@honhonbaguettegofuckyourself
@kickpuncher2punchkicker
@dissociatingdemon
@itsall-taken
@pluto-pepsi
@lawrencebshoggoth
@manda-panda-monium
@flustratedcas
@here4thetrama
@silentiumdelirium
@limpingpenguin
@samsoble
@hotluncheddie
@sangrientojoe
@moomkin77
@jamieweasley13
@private-jett
@eyeharttarr
@y4r3luv
@ultimatezuku
@emelieluckwood
@foundintheshadows
@archermightbegay
@queenie-ofthe-void
@saramelaniemoon
@chrystal-lovee
@disrespectedgoatman
@nailbatwielder
#Finn writes#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steve x eddie#steddie fic#Wayne Munson#Wayne Munson fic#wayne Munson fanfic#Steve Harrington fanfic#eddie Munson fanfic#my fic my writing#stranger things oc#robin buckley#robin buckley fic#Robin buckley’s parents#Stranger things au#Stranger things fic#st3
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𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒏
pairing: jack daniels x fem!reader
genre: smut, romance, minors dni
word count: 1.4k
summary: you and jack have a lazy afternoon.
warnings: established relationship, mentioned piv, mentioned creampie, brief fingering, explicit oral sex (receiving), soft dirty talk, excessive use of pet names (sugar, sweetheart, darling, babygirl), soft!jack, no y/n
a/n: this was not planned at all and came to me completely random. My legs were aching and I was laying down thinking "wouldn't be nice if jack was here to give me a massage?" so here we are
Sun trickles down from the windows, soft curtains dancing with the warm wind as beams of light tickle your skin. Your lay on your stomach, naked, bare for the man next to you. Jack’s thumbs dig into the back of your thigh, following an imaginary spine, he gradually moves them up. Then back down. You groan into the pillows and instinctively raise your hips. He lets out a humorful chuckle.
“Does that feel good sunshine?”
“Hmmm, it does…” you sigh, a lazy smile on your lips. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do after wearing you out.”
You stretch your legs, toes curling into the warm sheets. You let out a soft whine at how the fibers of your muscle ache and relax. Jack’s hand moves to your other thigh, squeezing before repeating the movement. The sides of his fingers reach the swell of your ass, this time he cups the mounds, parting them slightly. A whimper echoes in the back of your throat. You’re still sore and wet between your legs. Despite that, you lift your hips, allowing him to get a better look. Jack dips his thumb between your folds, stroking down, he circles your sensitive clit.
“Jaack,” you object, albeit halfheartedly. “As much as I would enjoy having you inside me…I don’t think my body can handle it.”
He clicks his tongue with a teasing grin, “Poor thing.”
The pads of his fingers continue to softly circle your clit, you moan into the pillows. It smells like him. Your legs start to shake, exhaustion doing little to douse out the fire gradually growing once more. You can feel your nipples hardening. His finger abandons the sensitive bundle of nerves, moving back up. With two fingers he parts your folds that stick wetly together, he pushes in his middle finger. You wince, slick coating the digit, you clench around him.
“So god damn wet,” he whispers out, sounding as if smoke was clinging to his voice. “Jesus, sweetheart. I can still feel traces of me inside. You enjoy feelin’ me inside don’t you, baby? That’s why you’re holdin’ on?”
“God, I do,” you let out a groan, walls fluttering.
“Does it hurt?”
“Just a little.”
He pulls out his finger. With a feather touch, he moves down the back of your thigh, leaving wet prints on your skin. Your skin tingles, goosebumps rising across your skin. You feel his hands on both sides of your waist.
“Can you lift your hips for me, darlin’?”
You do as you’re told. Honestly, at this point, you’d do anything he asks for, your mind a blissful haze of lust. He kneads your ass and shifts behind you, his cock lays heavy between the crease.
“Atta girl,” he says, drumming his thumbs against your skin. Your eyes roll back, more wetness gathering between your legs. You know it’s going to be a bit of a challenge to take him again, especially after ruining your insides so thoroughly only an hour ago, however, you’re willing to give it a shot.
Jack touches his cock softly before leaning between your legs. You wait for the sting of the stretch. Without even noticing, your body tenses, every nerve buzzing with need and anxiety.
You jump as you feel something warm and wet licking into you. Jack holds you still, nails biting into your skin. He licks again. And you feel the reverberations of his groan that resonate from somewhere deep.
“Oh sugar,” he coos wetly, rolling his tongue. “We taste so good together.”
“Jack—Oh, fuck—I d-didn’t,” you break off with a sharp gasp. You’re shaking.
“What?” he chuckles, warm breath fanning your dripping pussy. A chill runs up your spine. “You thought I’d fuck you? When you’re sore? My goodness gracious, babygirl, you must really think so little of me.”
“I think the world of you.”
You’d said it with a certainty that surprised you. It’s the truth. Yet your heart still beats like it’s about to jump out from your chest. Jack is a good man. He has his faults, sure. But who doesn't? He takes care of you, supports you. You know that he’ll always be here, no matter how crazy you might act sometimes. You appreciate it and he should know. Pressing your lips together, you breathe heavily through your nose. His silence is loud. You don’t feel his tongue anymore, only his hands holding onto you in fear that you might disappear along with the sunset.
“Well,” he chokes out, his voice low. “I think the world of you too, sweetheart.”
You want to take advantage of the tender moment of vulnerability and say more but Jack has other plans. His mouth is wet and warm against you. Burying his face, he laps at you, groaning and moaning as he squeezes your ass. You moan openly into the pillows. Saliva drips down Jack’s chin, you can sense that he’s grinning. The smug bastard. He pushes your tighs open, pushing his tongue deeper. He’s gentle when he starts playing with your clit. Soft waves of pleasure washing over you with every tender caress of his fingers.
You don’t think much as you start grinding your hips, seeking his tender mouth. His tongue moves up and down, he parts and puts his mouth onto your sopping cunt over and over, repeating the movement with the added broad strokes of his tongue. You’re visibly shaking now. Your stomach flips and your hips jerk towards him, your fingers burrowing themselves into the messy sheets.
“S-Sorry about that,” you moan, forcibly stilling your hips.
“What’re you apologizin’ for?” he slurs, inhaling you. You clench around the soft muscle, your walls left fluttering. He guides the sloppy roll of his hips. “Use me, darlin’. Make yourself feel good.”
Fuck.
Pleasure prickles at your skin. Jack takes you apart and puts you back again. He has no trouble doing so. It comes naturally to him. And you find yourself shattering like glass as a way of nature. He replaces his fingers with his mouth and flattens his tongue. After giving it a leisurely lick, he sucks the nub between his lips and moves his tongue rapidly.
The room is filled with the sounds of ragged breaths and the soft squelch that makes you whimper. You gasp for air, your chest heaving as Jack's fingers trail lightly up and down your back. The warm summer evening air is thick with the heady scent of sex. You can feel the sweat trickling down your temples and between your breasts.
Your skin heats up, your pulse skyrockets. He’s drinking you like a man starved, groaning and moaning into your tingling skin. You’re breath hitches. Your composure long gone, you cry out his name, again and again. Moaning that you’re about to come, that he feels so good. From the way he starts pulling you towards his mouth, shoving his tongue deeper, he must’ve enjoyed your sultry confessions because he starts pulling you back with an iron grip.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he rasps. “Come for me darlin’.”
Your whole body stiffens, the only part not frozen being your throbbing cunt. An elongated moan echoes from your throat. You soak him, gushing into his mouth as he continues to lick and suck. His hands slip down to your tights again, squeezing and massaging the trembling flesh. The added pleasure of it makes your eyes roll back, and your orgasm hits you again. It rolls up and down your spine, forcing the breath out of your lungs. Only garbles nonsense and confessions slip from your spit-slick lips.
You think he’s praising you. His tone is soft and soothing, and the thought of what he might be saying makes you melt. You smile, arching your back like a cat. Slick trickles down the inside of your thighs, coaxing a soft whimper. Jack kisses your sex, a tender touch of his lips, before pulling back and gently smacking your ass.
Pushing yourself with a heave, you fall on your back. Jack settles between your legs, sitting back down on his knees His thumb leisurely circles the outside of your knee, you let out a giggle and jerk your leg away.
“Looks like you had a grand old time,” he teases, mustache curling over his lips.
Your eyes drop to his cock, heavy and hard between his legs. You point down where your gaze still lingers. “I’m not the only one it seems.”
Jack looks down and narrows his eyes, “Traitor,” he hisses to his cock. “We’re supposed to be on the same team.”
“Can’t blame him, he knows I’m about to rock his world.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, eyes glinting with mischief. “How so?”
You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kneel in front of him, your wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. Moving up your hand, you kiss the tip. Jack groans.
You look up at him between heavy lashes.
“I think this answers your question, cowboy.”
#jack daniels x fem!reader#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x f!reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey smut#agent whiskey x f!reader#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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MP100 3x5 is actually so fun to watch just because it’s kind of satisfying to watch Mob be so unbelievably pissed the fuck off. He’s not even at his 100% rage or anything, which makes it better. He’s genuinely so blinded with a middle schooler’s inextinguishable malice and hatred for Dimple in that moment that it’s like watching a bar fight. It takes a lot for Mob to start punching and slapping and throwing bitches to the ground when he wasn’t even really physically attacked first. That boy let Toichiro the domestic terrorist—who leveled an entire city of people and beat the jesus out of his own 13 year-old son directly in front of Mob—beat the fucking brakes off of him before even considering violence, but a few poorly considered words out of Dimple’s mouth and he comes in with a steel folding chair and a pure lust for blood.
Shit gets real when his eyes start creasing like this. I’ve never seen a bad bitch so enraged before in all my life, good fucking god.
#if i ever caught mob looking at me like that my only hope is international witness protection#even teru in that second pic is like 😨#mob psycho 100#mp100#mp100 spoilers#mob psycho season 3 spoilers#mp100 s3#divine tree arc#shigeo kageyama
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Red Letters to Nowhere spicy sneak peek ~
(Stepbro!Billy x Mayfield!Reader)
Summary: Tension has been building between you and Billy since you and your little sister, Max, moved in. You never know quite where you stand with him, and you could swear he's flirting with you at least half of the time. It's about time he made his intentions clear...
[No smut, slight NSFW below the cut, 18 +, MDNI as usual ✨]
You had spent the last few hours studying in your room. A lazy Saturday with Max being out with her new friends, your mom and Neil taking another shopping trip to the city, and Billy having weekend practice for the upcoming tournament gave you the house to yourself. You were enjoying the space and freedom, paying bits of attention to the radio droning in the background and making sure you were up to speed for Mrs. Click’s quiz on Monday.
Hearing the familiar sounds of keys jingling, you checked the clock on your bedside table and knew it was Billy returning home from his practice. Your door was open, but he didn’t seem to notice you there as he stalked to his room.
Your doors faced each other at both ends of the hallway with the bathroom in between, so you had an immaculate view when he peeled off his shirt and tossed it to to the ground, the muscles in his back creasing in symmetry as he stretched, his broad shoulders moving in time with his arms as he brought his hands together, clasping his palms and pushing them forward.
You didn’t even realize you were staring, mouth fully agape, taking in the sheen of sweat sprinkled across his golden skin, the dip in his lower back where his waistband sat just below, and the definition in his strong calves as he went through the motions of stretching out his hamstrings, still facing away from you.
You wanted him.
Wasn’t that wrong on some level? Of course you’re not actually related, but what would he think if he knew? Did he know?
You averted your eyes immediately as he dropped his shorts to the floor, covering your mouth and turning to face the other way in your chair. Your entire body tensed as you tried not to make a single sound for fear that he would notice you and put two and two together.
You didn’t look at him naked, at least. That would’ve been too far, and you didn’t want to disrespect Billy, your new step brother, who had been so kind to you despite the reputation he seemed to have with everyone else.
You heard Billy’s bare footsteps padding up the hallway, so you turned back to face his direction once again. Damp, messy curls framed his face, a green towel secured around his waist, and a knowing smirk resting just above his sharp jawline, he shot you a wink before turning into the bathroom and closing the door. Your cheeks seared with panic as you tried to process what you just experienced.
He had to have known you were looking at him. He obviously knew. Did he do that on purpose? You tried your best to refocus on your studies, but it was no use. You heard the sprinkling of the shower in the next room and couldn’t stop fighting with yourself over confronting Billy about what he had just done.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You had been busying yourself with folding your laundry while your mind turned the idea of Billy wanting you to see him like that over and over. You had resolved not to address anything with him right now, but to wait it out just to make sure you weren’t imagining things.
You had just moved here, and you didn’t want to make things awkward for the family. You especially didn’t want to get Billy in trouble with Neil. You folded another Van Halen t-shirt and added it to the neat pile of folded shirts on your stripped mattress. You heard the buzzer on the dryer go off, signaling that your sheets were ready for pickup, and you turned toward the doorway.
“Jesus, Billy!” You jumped when you saw Billy leaning on your doorframe wordlessly, his hair dripping tiny water droplets onto his shoulders that hung like dewdrops on his chest, smirk still in place with his towel around his waist. “How long have you been standing there?”
He scoffed and looked toward the ceiling. “Long enough,” he said simply. His eyes met yours, dark with something you couldn’t quite identify, and you felt the scarlet heat creeping back up to your cheeks, forcing you to look at anything else in the room.
“Did you need something?” He took his hand down from the doorframe and stepped closer to you, still blocking the exit to your room.
“Did you?” His voice darkened, and as he neared where you stood, you could see that his pupils were blown out. He was close enough for you to touch him at that point, and you ached for him. You wondered what would happen if –
“Correct me if I’m out of line, Y/N. But I swear you look at me like you want something from me. Am I wrong?” His eyes burned into yours, his gaze never wavering as he asked the most candid question he could without really giving it away. You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn’t get you into trouble if you were somehow misinterpreting things.
“No,” you finally replied sheepishly. “You’re not wrong. But Billy –”
“I thought so,” he murmured, his jaw clenching. You were afraid of his reaction. You couldn’t tell if he was about to fly off the handle, and you could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. “I notice you watching me, you know,” he continued, his words like suede slathered in melted honey.
“Billy, please. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not trying to –” He took another step toward you so that your noses were almost touching.
“And you don’t know it, but I watch you, too. I can’t help it. The way you pretend to have your nose in a book on the swing in the front yard, stealing glances at me working on my car. Do you ever wonder why I have my shirt off in October?” He chuckled, looking around the room. You really hadn’t put those pieces together.
“Billy –”
“What if I want something from you, too?” he drawled, his gaze gliding over your lips before meeting your eyes once more. “What if, every night while I’m lying in bed alone in the dark, I’m thinking of your strawberry perfume and the dimples in your cheeks when you try not to smile every time I say some smartass shit? What if I count your curves instead of sheep while I try to sleep?”
His husky voice was barely above a whisper. He looked down and hissed out a small laugh. “You don’t think I notice that you leave your door cracked every time you change your clothes or that I know for a fact you’re wearing a black lace-trimmed bra and matching panties right now?” His tongue trailed over his bottom lip as he eyed you up and down.
You were completely speechless. Your mind was working a million miles a second trying to piece together all of the what-ifs and scenarios that could come of what you two were about to do, and you knew he was waiting for your answer.
“Billy, we can’t –”
“Can’t what? Have fun?” His devilish grin was torture to your core, and you couldn’t help but echo his expression. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He ghosted his lips over yours while he spoke, and you were immediately intoxicated by the scent of his honey shampoo and the remnants of mint gum.
“Pinky promise?” You held your pinky out for him to take, confident he wouldn’t buy into your childish game, and you were shocked when he held his hand up, dropping his towel to the floor, and hooked his pinky with yours.
“Pinky promise, babe.” He lit up his blinding smile, knowing there was no turning back, and tugged at the hem of your sweater, helping to lift it over your head. “Good thing you haven’t put those nice, clean sheets back on yet,” he teased before connecting his lips with yours, warm, wet, and insatiable.
You had no idea how this would end, but in that moment, neither of you cared. All you knew was no one else would be home for hours, and you both needed what was coming after the last month of agonizing sexual tension, somehow kept a sweet secret between the two of you.
*This is a republish of my original preview because I CANNOT find the old post no matter how hard I try.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#red letters to nowhere#stepbro!billy hargrove#mayfield!reader#billy hargrove imagine#stranger things fanfic#sneak preview#sneak peek
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Eddie had Steve’s number in his pocket.
Eddie had Steve Harrington’s number in his pocket.
The slip of paper felt heavy somehow, like he’d stuck an iron plate in there instead of a folded sticky note. (It was possibly not the best mental image to be mulling over; made him think of hands around his biceps and sinking to the bottom and no no no no—)
He wrestled the note out of his pocket. Smoothed the creases out against his thigh and dialed before he could overthink it.
Or think about it at all, apparently, because the second Steve finished his bizarrely polite greeting, Eddie blurted: “Hey, uh, this isn’t just some weird ploy to, like, lure me over to your house and drown me in the backyard as some sick sort of free entertainment, is it?”
“Okay, what the fuck??”
“Um.” Yeah. Yeah. He winced as he replayed his own words in his head. “Shit, sorry; I don’t-”
“Jesus, Munson! You think I’m gonna drown you?”
“No?” Eddie tried.
Steve made an offended noise in the back of his throat. “I literally just did the exact opposite of that, if you recall.” His voice was so flat that Eddie could practically hear the eye roll through the phone.
Eddie’s voice, on the other hand, only rose in pitch, climbing up and up with each response until he was squeaking like a frightened mouse. “Mmhm! Yep. Yes, I do.”
Then Steve demanded to know why the hell Eddie thought he would do something like that, and Eddie screeched, “Well, I didn’t, but it felt important to confirm!”
Silence down the line for a long moment. Steve cleared his throat. “…Are you high right now?”
-
@thefreakandthehair context for the sentence game lmao, poor boy is having a terrible bout of stoner paranoia mixed with negative twelve impulse control right now
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I AM IN LOVE WITH A HERO THAT DOESN'T SURVIVE TO THE END OF THE STORY.
HE IS A DEMIGOD, STEPPED DOWN FROM THE CRADLE OF OLYMPUS TO GIVE THE GIFT OF HIS BLOOD TO THE SOIL. WHEN WE MET, I THOUGHT HE WAS JESUS, FOR WHEN HE RAISED HIS HANDS, HE CALMED THE RAGING SEAS OF MY GRIEF. HE WAS THE STILLNESS, AND IF THAT WERE ALL THAT HE WAS, I WOULD HAVE DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND CALLED HIM MESSIAH, AND KISSED THE THIN SKIN STRETCHED ATOP HIS FEET. BUT MY LOVER IS NOT JUST THE STILLNESS, HE IS CHAOS INCARNATE. HE IS THE GALE THAT RISES FROM THE BOWELS OF THE WAVES AND THE DAMP FIST THAT PUNCHES THROUGH THE HULLS OF THOSE WHO TRY TO CROSS HIS STORMY DEPTHS, AND THE ONLY REASON I HAVE NOT DROWNED IN THE ENORMITY OF HIM IS BECAUSE HE KEEPS ME CLOSE TO HIS CENTER. HE IS THE TENDER EYE IN THE MIDST OF UNFORGETTABLE MADNESS, AND IN HIS ARMS, I KNOW WHAT IT IS TO REST.
MY LOVER’S DEATH IS A FATED THING. HE IS DESTINED FOR THE CROWS AND WHEN WE LAY ON THE SHORE AND WHISPER PROMISES WE WILL NEVER GET TO KEEP AGAINST THE SOFT SKIN OF EACH OTHER’S EARS, I CAN SEE THE INKY BLACKNESS OF THEIR FAT BODIES CIRCLING OVERHEAD. THEY ARE HUNGRY CREATURES, CORVUS CORONE, AND WHEN THE RAIN FALLS, IT FEELS LIKE THE HUNGRY DRIP OF THEIR SALIVA, THE MEAT OF HIS FLESH ALREADY NOTHING MORE THAN A RECOLLECTION THEY CANNOT HELP BUT YEARN FOR.
I FIND MYSELF COMMITTING HIS EVERY MOVE TO MEMORY.
HIS BODY IS FOREVER IMMORTALIZED WITHIN THE SLICK CORNERS OF MY HEART, AND THE WAN FOLDS OF MY HIPPOCAMPUS, BUT OH, WHAT A PALTRY REPLACEMENT THOSE MEMORIES WILL BE! OH, THAT THERE WOULD BE A WAY TO CONVERT THE RISE AND FALL OF HIS CHEST TO THE STROKE OF MY PEN, FOR THERE IS NOTHING MORE SACRED THAN THE EVIDENCE OF HIS BREATH. HE HAS NEVER LOOKED SO HOLY AS HE DOES IN SLEEP, WHEN THERE IS NOTHING BUT HIS BEAUTIFUL BODY SPREAD OUT AGAINST THE FEATHERED DOWN OF MY SHEETS AND THE CREASE OF A PILLOW TUCKED INTO THE SOFT SKIN OF HIS CHEEK.
OH, IF I COULD DIVEST HIM OF HIS LUNGS AND REPLACE THEM WITH MY OWN! THEN HE WOULD NEVER KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO INHALE AND NOT CATCH BREATH. OH, THAT HE WOULD BE SPARED THE EVENT OF HIS DEATH! OH GODS, HEAR ME! KNOW THAT I SHALL GLADLY BEAR THE WEIGHT OF MY OWN DEMISE IF ONLY HIS BEAUTIFUL EYES GET TO WITNESS ANOTHER SUNRISE!
I KNEW FROM THE BEGINNING THAT THE RIGHTEOUS AND DIVINE ARE NOT BLESSED WITH HAPPY ENDINGS. I KNOW OUR STORY WILL BE NO DIFFERENT. OUR STORY WILL END WITH MY TEARS FALLING INTO THE SEAM OF HIS COLD LIPS, AND MY HANDS SNAGGED IN THE FOLDS OF HIS TATTERED CLOTHING. I WILL BEG LIFE TO RETURN TO HIS BODY AND MY CRY WILL GO UNANSWERED. OUR STORY WILL END WITH A HOWL OF GRIEF THAT WILL RATTLE THE STARS, AND A CRY OF PAIN THAT WILL ALERT HIS FATHER AND MOTHER TO THE FACT THAT THEIR SON IS COMING HOME. DUST OFF HIS SEAT, O HERA, FOR HE WILL BE RETURNING TO DIVINITY BEFORE THAT DAY IS DONE.
BUT THAT DAY IS NOT TODAY.
TODAY, HE SMILES AND I CANNOT HELP BUT SMILE WITH HIM. TODAY, HE LAUGHS LIKE THE SUN AND I AM POWERLESS TO THE WAY HIS JOY PAINTS THE WHOLE WORLD WITH UNFETTERED BRIGHTNESS. TODAY, HE IS MINE AND I AM HIS, AND I WILL WRITE POEMS ABOUT HIS BODY BEFORE THE WORMS TAKE MY PEN AND WRITE POEMS ABOUT HIS BONES.
TODAY, I LOVE A HERO.
TOMORROW, I LOVE A GHOST.
to love a hero | j.s.
#my writing#jack.txt#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#merlin x arthur#merthur#full disclosure: I haven't even finished this show but the vibes were there and I went with them#funny how all my best poems have to do with some guys. sickening#anyways#greek mythology#spilled ink#poetry#writerblr
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‘guns for hire’ — unwanted rescue #34
previous · masterlist · next
content warnings: intimate whumper, conditioned whumpee, whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, implied dub-con (not explicit), manhandling, handcuffs, stockholm syndrome
“Steven.”
The detective heard the rage dripping off that voice, but he didn’t bother to take his eyes off the board, even when he noticed the thumping footsteps approaching him from behind. His narrowed eyes were intently flickering over various pinned photos and pieces of important, information filled paper.
Summers’ hand dug into his shoulder, whirling him round with a force that almost had him staggering over his feet. A nasty scowl spread over his face, jerking himself out of her grip.
“Jesus, keep your hands to yourself, why don’t you?” He scoffed.
“We don’t have a warrant for Roy Gatlin’s arrest,” she seethed, her voice dripping with venom. “Why is there a SWAT team being assembled, huh? You don’t have the authority to do this.”
Sharpe folded his arms over his chest, his demeanour much calmer compared to his counterpart. A cheeky smirk even tugged at his lips, but it was gone in a second.
“It ain’t under my authority,” he shrugged. “I got support from the Captain.”
“The—?” Summers cut herself off. She turned, taking a few steps away from him, and inhaled three deep, measured breaths. She fixed her hair, before slowly turning back to him, her anger reigned in. “You’re gonna cost the Captain his job.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“Steven, Leo Whitlock’s case has been closed. He’s gone.”
Steven’s expression hardened inexplicably. A wave of something pungent stirred in his chest at those words. He still had this fiery determination in his gut; he didn’t care what anybody else told him, or the hopelessness of it all. He was going to find Leo.
“I know the kid’s out there,” he sneered, jabbing a finger at the board, where the pictures of potential suspects were strung up. Even though Summers was still working on following leads on each suspect, Sharpe had his reasons as to why he believed it was Roy Gatlin. His gut feeling always punched through. “And I know he had something to do with it.”
“So your answer is to swarm his house with an unauthorised SWAT team? Without a warrant, Steven. Jesus. This is insane.”
The detective reached into his pocket, pulling out another much needed cigerette and lighter. Summers glared at him, waving her hand.
“Don’t you dare. Go smoke outside. You’re giving me enough of a headache as is.”
“I’m positive, Summers,” he murmured, still intent on lighting the end of the stick. Her eyes softened slightly at the quietness in his voice. Her mouth closed, clenching slightly. “I just have a—”
“Gut feeling,” she groaned, rubbing the crease in her brow. “You and your gut feelings. Dammit—”
Her hands dropped in frustration, and she deflated with a defeated sigh. How could she refuse the notorious Detective Steven Sharpe’s gut feeling? There was a reason he was one of the best detectives around. He took a short drag, blowing the smoke to the side.
“I’m still arresting that bastard,” he murmured.
“We don’t have hard enough evidence on him to hold up in a court,” she countered, softer this time, as if desperately clinging onto the hope he might drop it. “Hence, the fact that you don’t have a warrant for his arrest. We can only hold him at the station for forty-eight hours.”
“That’s enough,” he shrugged, confidence spilling into his grin. “Because once we’ve found the kid, his testimony will be hard enough evidence to convict him.”
Summers grimaced. “And what happens if Leo isn’t there? If you storm the house illegally and it’s all for nothing?”
Sharpe pinched the cigerette between his fingers, patting his stomach. “Like I said. Gut feeling.”
There was a tense, almost awkward silence in the air. Summers’ eyes flickered over to the board in their office, lingering on the faces of the suspects. It quickly snapped towards the one of Leo, and a look of remorse flashed in her eyes.
“I’m not keeping this kid waiting for another year,” Sharpe huffed under his breath, and Summers turned to find a look of hardened regret shared in his eyes. “We let him down by waiting so long to do something. Legally or not.”
“Even if he’s there,” she sighed, her arms folded over her chest. “The Captain could still lose his job.”
The detective’s smile lingered for a moment, nodding his head. “That’s a risk he’s willing to take.”
Sharpe watched her expression morph through a multitude of different phases, before she finally scoffed, and waved her hand in dismissal. She shook her jacket off, reaching for a warmer one instead.
“Then fuck it,” she decided, tilting her head in his direction. “You coming or what? Commissioner is going to notice a missing SWAT team soon.”
The detective smirked, nudging her side playfully as he crossed the threshold of his office. He loaded his pistol and clicked it carefully onto the side of his belt, covered by his long coat. Summers did the same, closing the office door behind her.
“I knew there was something I liked about you,” he teased, ignoring her dark glare.
“Watch your mouth.”
They swiftly left the building, bickering quietly amongst themselves about who would be driving. The SWAT team was ready to go at exactly thirty seven minutes past four in the afternoon, loaded up into the police vans, and both the detectives followed closely behind as they made for the secluded house outside the city.
. . .
The shrill ringing of Roy’s phone on his desk suddenly erupted into the room, the obnoxious noise drawing them both from their entanglement in the sheets. Leo’s hips stuttered to a surprised stop, his lips peeling away from Roy’s own as his gaze slid over to the lit up screen. The mercenary did the same, and his lip curved into a somewhat annoyed smile.
“Sorry, lion,” he hummed, the hands on his waist shifting to the bed so he could sit up. The secretary suddenly looked equally annoyed, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. “I’m gonna have to get that.”
“Do you have to?” He murmured softly, his fingers tangling in his hair to play with it. The ringing was still going, but Leo didn’t budge from his lap. “They can wait.”
Roy chuckled lightly under his breath, leaning forward to kiss him teasingly, but not enough to satisfy him. “Get up.”
Leo frowned, but did as he was told. He clambered off his lap and tucked himself under the blanket with a miffed little frown, while Roy languidly slipped some pants on as he stood up, plucking the phone off the desk. His eyes lingered on the screen, and a scoff rose in his throat.
“Joey,” he sighed, answering it with a roll of his eyes, before promptly leaving the room. Leo watched him go intently, his voice fading as the door was closed behind him. He let out a small huff, shifting onto his side so he could slip his arm under the pillow. Roy’s voice was too muffled to make out what he was saying, but that was a good thing. Leo wouldn’t dare eavesdrop, otherwise the mercenary would be angry with him. A good minute must have passed before the man came barging in.
The door hit the wall a little too hard, enough to jolt Leo from his peaceful quietness, a shock of alarm passing through him. The mercenary tossed his phone on the bed, and even though it was subtle, Leo knew something was wrong.
“Roy?” He croaked, alarmed. “What’s going on?”
He answered smoothly. “Cops are coming.”
The statement made his heart sink straight down to the pits of his stomach. He sprang up, holding the blanket close to him.
“What?”
The man dipped down, pulling out his laptop, and switching it on. As he picked up his phone once more and began calling someone, he jerked open his closet and pulled out a plain shirt. He swiftly tossed it towards Leo, who got the message quickly enough. He scrambled to get off the bed, throwing the shirt over him with shaky haste.
“Roy, what do you mean?” He blurted, his wide eyes pinned onto him. The mercenary tapped away at his laptop rapidly, the screen blaring to life with numerous different coded tabs, things that Leo couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“Lion, wait downstairs for me,” he ordered softly. Leo ground his teeth together, torn between grabbing the man and not letting go, or following his order. After a tough internal battle, he went with the latter. His bare feet padded down the stairs with buckling knees, his eyes frightfully dancing to the windows as he passed them, as if expecting a swarm of flashing police cars to be waiting for them. He bit down anxiously on his thumb as he lingered by the bottom of the stairs, unable to stop himself from pacing.
The idea of the police brought him this horrible, crushing weight of despair on his chest. His mind stirred with the memories of Michael, the fact that he was the one who had got him killed. The thought of what might happen brought horrible, anxiety filled tears to his eyes. When he heard Roy coming down the stairs, he could feel them slipping down his cheeks.
“What’s going on?” He softly whispered, his voice shaking as he scurried behind him, unwilling to leave his side. “Are they really coming? Roy, please, just…”
The man began to descend down the steps to the basement, but Leo’s feet were securely glued in place. He nervously fiddled with the hem of the long, much too large shirt, where even the distinct scent of Roy clinging onto it didn’t seem to ease him right now. The man worked swiftly in clearing out anything he needed. Tools that didn’t seem so supicious were placed in their rightful places, and anything that was disappeared. The chair was slotted under the table, and Roy shut the door with a bang on the way out.
Although he moved with such speed and urgency, he didn’t appear to have a slither of panic on his face. Even when he cupped Leo’s cheeks in his, and pressed a long, comforting kiss to his lips. He pulled away, keeping his warm hands where they were. His thumbs occasionally brushed away any fresh tears, making sure he had Leo’s eyes trapped within his own.
“Listen to me very carefully,” he whispered quietly, and when Leo opened his mouth to speak, the man shushed him. It quickly closed. “There’s some things that I need you to say for me.”
Leo hiccuped, his fingers grasping onto his wrists desperately. “Roy, please, I—”
“I know it’s going to be scary, but they’re going to bother you with questions, lion,” he interrupted, keeping a firm grip on him so he couldn’t squirm away. “Questions that you have to answer very carefully.”
Leo choked on a sob. It felt like the whole world was spinning, like everything he’d worked so hard for was about to come crashing down on top of him with no mercy. He burned the very image of the mercenary’s face into his mind, feeling as though he was going to throw up.
“Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, frantically shaking his head. “I love you. Please don’t go.”
“I won’t. Not forever,” the mercenary smiled. “As long as you say exactly this.”
Everything that Roy told him, Leo’s mind clung to like it was holy. He wrapped up each and every letter with desperate care, storing it in the front of his mind where it was always waiting. He desperately nodded his head, promising with the utmost sincerity that he would. Because what use was he if he couldn’t do what Roy wanted?
His stomach churned with nauseating pain when he was ushered upstairs and told to lock the bathroom door behind him. Leo wanted nothing more than rip it open and seek out the mercenary, hold him tight and stay as close to his side as he could, but when he heard the thunderous bangs and the terrifying hollering, he couldn’t find the courage to.
It felt like they were vibrating through the very walls, and a cold shock of terror stabbed through his heart. Leo pressed himself tight against the tiled corner of the bathroom, as far away from the door as he could manage, legs curled up to his chest. He tried to pinch his eyes shut and ignore all the booming voices, but it was growing too loud, too suffocating in his own ears.
A sudden pounding erupted on the other side of the door.
Leo yelped, slapping his hands over his mouth. He could see it practically shaking from the impact, the locks splintering with each measured, powerful push.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he whispered frantically under his breath, fingers fisting in his hair. Each smack matched the heavy beat of his heart. He knew the exact moment the door was smashed open, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out. The shouting was coming from all over the house; upstairs, downstairs, in the kitchen, above him. Heavy footsteps spilled into the bathroom, and he barely caught a glimpse of the black suited men surging on him.
He could only just make out a few clear voices, saying things like “we found him” or “use force if necessary”, and Leo’s heart dropped to his stomach when he felt a hand clamp on his arm. He was hurled from the corner of the bathroom effortlessly, unable to get his feet under him before a uniformed member was dragging him out of the room.
“No!” Leo screamed, seething through his teeth as he jerked and twisted away from the invading hands on his body. “Let go of me! Get—”
The blood rushed through his head, working himself into dizzying hysterics, no matter how many people he could just barely make out telling him calm down. The evening sun hit his face, but he hadn’t stopped thrashing like an animal for even a second.
The secretary managed to find Roy through the crowd. His arms had been twisted forcefully behind his back, making him grimace, locked with silver cuffs. Two men were flanking him, donned in their black helmets with their eyes covered by a deep visor, and they roughly shoved him forward towards a flashing car.
Leo’s chest felt like it was being ripped in two. He desperately tried clawing his way out of the grip on his arm, tears sliding down his cheeks as they caught him around the waist instead, tugging him in the opposite direction. It was almost painful, the idea of being separated. There was nothing he could do to stop it, no matter how much he screamed and thrashed against them.
There was a grunt, and then a muffled voice caught his ear. “Get the detective.”
Leo watched helplessly as Roy was forced into the police car, a rough hand on the back of his head shoving him in. He just barely caught his eyes as he went, making a horrible feeling punch through his gut. The panic of being torn away from him was too overwhelming, even when a new pair of arms found their way around him.
This time, they followed him to the ground, no longer held up by other hands.
“Hey, hey, kid,” a deep voice murmured, the least stern he’d encountered. “Look at me. Look here.”
Leo shook with pained sobs, but he managed to do as he was told. He found himself staring at the face of a middle aged man, dark hair and beard covering his features. His hands were firm on his shoulders, keeping him grounded as he spoke.
“There you go,” he nodded. “You’re safe now, kid. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
He frantically shook his head. That wasn’t true. He was safer with Roy, and he was being taken away, trying to separate them both. The very thought made it hard to even breathe, his chest constricting painfully. A hand rubbed at his back, easing the wheezy coughs choking in his throat.
“It’s alright,” Sharpe hummed, his eyes catching Summers. She looked relieved, her eyes glossy and a hand on her chest, tightly gripping the fabric there. The detective himself kept the shivering kid close, motioning towards her. “Get him some sweatpants from the boot of the car. And some water, quickly.”
Summers nodded.
Leo’s head fell against the detectives shoulder, screwing his eyes shut. A hand patted at the back of his head, but it wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t Roy.
tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight @enigmawritesstuff
#guns for hire#whump series#whump writing#whumpblr#whump scenario#whump fic#whump community#whump#whumper#whumpee#leo and roy#rescue#caretaker#my writing#writing#don't worry they were just wrestling at the beginning#place your bets on if this is going to end well#:)
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my love, might i request 12. ‘you could say I’m fond of you.’ 🥺🍄 👑
“Eddie, save yourself. Go home,” Buck urges, but it comes out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
It immediately sends him into a coughing fit, the air rattling painfully in his chest as he hacks into a fist. He grimaces, throat feeling raw like sandpaper was dragged over it.
The bed dips as Eddie sits on the edge, a sympathetic frown on his face as he smoothes Buck’s curls back from where they’ve stuck to his sweaty forehead. Despite his warning, Buck can’t help the way his body naturally moves towards Eddie, curling around him and seeking the comfort of his warmth.
“I’m not gonna leave you like this, babe.” Eddie keeps pushing his fingers through Buck’s curls. They’re probably sweaty and gross — Buck can’t remember the last time he showered, but it feels nice and he finds himself relaxing into the gentle scratch of Eddie’s nails over his scalp.
Sniffling, Buck grimaces when he feels a glob of mucus slide down the back of his throat. His already queasy stomach flips and Buck waits with bated breath to see if he’s going to have to throw the covers off and rush for the bathroom. But his stomach settles again, leaving him sagging back against his pillows.
“But I don’t want you to get sick too.” Buck turns his head, looking up at Eddie and dislodging his hand from Buck’s hair. He mourns the loss of contact, but tries not to let it show.
There’s an ache deep in his bones that has left him feeling exhausted down to his core. He feels gross and miserable — skin covered in layers of fresh and stale sweat. His fever broke during the night, but he can still feel the tacky marks of fever-induced tears drying on his cheeks and in the corner of his eyes, the saltiness clinging to his lashes. The last thing he wants is to be left alone, something in his chest feeling hollow — an echo chamber for the creeping loneliness and vulnerability he always feels when he’s sick. But he wants Eddie to get sick even less than he wants to be alone. Buck would hate himself if he was the reason Eddie felt even a fraction of how awful he feels now.
“Pretty sure I was the one that got you sick,” Eddie murmurs, resuming his gentle petting over Buck’s hair. “Remember? Chris came home with that bug from school— had me in bed for two days.”
Buck hums a noncommittal response, pulling away from Eddie when it triggers another coughing fit. Eddie holds him through it, a big hand curled around Buck’s ribs to keep him from folding in too far on himself and disappearing. When the coughing subsides it leaves Buck feeling completely drained, even more exhausted than before which seems impossible.
“Well, if it’s your fault—” Buck doesn’t miss the way Eddie flinches at that and he rushes to try and erase the worried crease from between Eddie’s brows. “I know how you can make it up to me.”
“How is that?”
“Come cuddle, I’m cold.” Buck tiredly pats at the empty expanse of bed next to him, waggling his eyebrows to try and draw a smile from his boyfriend.
Eddie takes a moment, looking like he’s actually deliberating about what to do. For a split second Buck worries Eddie is actually going to say no, his sick brain irrational and panicked. But Eddie turns to Buck, face breaking into that sun warm smile of his.
“I guess I could do that for you,” Eddie sighs, sounding put upon. But he’s already shuffling out of his shirt, his shoes getting kicked off and closely followed by his socks and jeans.
When he crawls under the covers, Buck greedily chases after all the warm skin, tucking his hands against Eddie’s chest. Eddie flinches at the chilly touch but quickly engulfs Buck in his arms.
“Jesus, Buck — you’re freezing.”
Shoving his cold nose into the hollow of Eddie’s throat, Buck hums, “Yeah, and you’re so warm.”
“Oh, I see how it is.” Buck can feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice more than he hears it with the way he’s wrapped up in him. “You just want me around to be your personal furnace,” Eddie says with mock offense.
“You’re a great furnace. But, I guess I’m pretty fond of you as a person.”
Eddie’s arms tighten around him. “You could say I’m fond of you too.”
Buck smiles, craning his neck to look at Eddie. “Even when I’m all sick and gross?”
“Even when you’re all sick and gross,” Eddie says easily, pressing a kiss to the crown of Buck’s head.
send me a soft prompt and I'll write a little something!
completed prompts can be found on ao3!
#my beloved my ride or die my baby angel i hope you LOVE THIS <3#i'm scampering through your window and leaving this on your bed like a cat coming in with a dead mouse#molly writes#buddie#evan buckley#eddie díaz#911 fic#911#911 fox#soft prompts#molly got mail#honestlydarkprincess#princess tag
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day 9: praise kink - benny miller.
warnings: f!reader. 18+ ONLY. praise kink, oral sex (f rec), somewhat of a sub!ben
a/n: 735 words. sunshine boi absolutely thrives off praise. enjoy! x
"Goddamn fuckin' jeans... I've been thinkin' about this all fuckin' day," he mutters, tugging impatiently at your pants and tearing the denim down your legs.
They disappear somewhere behind him and he dives forward, barely stopping to make himself comfortable on his stomach before pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to your covered pussy and putting a quick stop to your giggles, the breath freezing in your lungs as the heat of his breath melts through the fabric.
He doesn't bother taking your underwear off, instead choosing to just curl a finger around the leg band and simply pull the thin material out of his way.
You don't get a warning, a chance to brace...
His tongue dives between your folds, hungry and unforgiving, dipping low to teasingly trace over your entrance before moving back up to circle your clit, his broad shoulders stopping the automatic twitch of your thighs attempting to close from the sudden stimulation.
"Jesus Ben," you pant, a hand flying to tangle in his hat flattened locks as his tongue rubs frenzied strokes over the swollen nerve.
You don't know if you're trying to pull him closer or push him away, but you hold onto him nevertheless, riding the overwhelming waves of pleasure as he loses himself against you.
He clings to you, needy and desperate, thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh in an attempt to anchor himself to you. The heat of his mouth and the feverous way he all but devours you borders on the brink of too fucking much and you push weakly at his forehead, squirming under his hold.
"Benny, baby boy, slow down for me... fu—ck... yes, just like that—"
A groan reverberates against your pussy and you jolt at the feeling, eyes falling down to see where he lays between your spread legs.
His brows are pinched together in focus, his thick lashes brushing along the sun kissed skin of his cheeks as he all but ravages you. You trace the faint spattering of freckles with a warm flood of fondness.
"Look at you," you murmur softly, brushing your fingers along his forehead and sweeping the stray locks of hair falling over his face away. "You're so pretty, baby—my pretty boy."
You catch the way he shifts at your words, the crease between his brows momentarily getting deeper as he moves down to push his tongue into your cunt, lapping hungrily away at the arousal building there.
"You like that, don't you, honey?" You whisper, raking your nails along his scalp as you push his hair back, hips subconsciously grinding against his face as his tongue pushes to taste you deeper.
"You like knowing you're my pretty boy? You like knowing how crazy you drive me like this? You're so fucking good at this, baby."
He jerks at your words, briefly grinding down into the mattress with a low, tangled groan. His tongue probes your walls, curling and dragging along the soft flesh before making his way back to your clit, wrapping his plush lips around the swollen nerve and sucking at it softly.
"Fuck, yes... just like that. You gonna make me come, sweet thing?"
He makes a low noise of affirmation, pushing himself impossibly closer and tightening his hold. The pressure on your clit has the heat churning in your core, running along your nerves in electric waves and tensing each muscle along your frame with the promise of release.
"Yeah?" You breathe, relaxing into the mattress as your own eyes flutter shut, losing yourself to the way his mouth works at you. "Keep going baby, just like that—feels so fucking good... fuck, Ben—"
He holds you as you hit that peak and tip over the edge, cumming with a breathless cry and arching away from the mattress as the white hot ecstasy consumes your system.
You ride it out, jerking and grinding against his mouth. He groans when the taste of your cum floods his tongue and pushes it deep into your cunt, feeling the flutter of muscle and fighting a grin when you start to babble his name, drowning in overstimulation.
Finally, he breaks away and rests his head on your thigh, blinking up at you with a soft, relaxed gaze. He grins, boyish and charming, when you eventually blink away your post-orgasm haze and meet his eyes.
His tongue slides along his lower lip, "Round two?"
-
Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!
#foliskink22#benny miller x reader#benny miller x f!reader#benny miller x you#benny miller imagine#triple frontier fic
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thunder and lightning
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Awaken by booming thunder, you find that your source of comfort isn't sleeping next to you. He's sitting on the porch, looking fondly at the lightning illuminating the night sky, or you and Eddie cuddle on the porch during a thunderstorm.
wc: 1.1k
a/n: i don't know what it is but rain lover!Eddie just makes me so soft. We've had crazy storms lately and I wanted to write more about it...
It was a shock to your peacefully sleeping system. A crack of booming thunder jolted you awake, the pounding in your chest had you thinking if your heart would explode from how harsh it was beating against your chest. Your eyes remained closed as your breathing became shallow, it’s just the storm, you reminded yourself.
Turning over, you extended your arm lazily and reached out for Eddie who could unusually sleep through anything. The bed was cold, freezing like the rain beating on the trailer's roof. A deep frown formed on your face as the creased sheets smoothed out underneath your searching touch. “Eddie,” you called out meekly.
His smooth voice gave no response. One of your sleep-crusted eyes opened slowly, and after blinking away the blurriness, you found his spot was—empty. With a drawn-out groan, you sat up and let the warm blanket pool around your bare thighs. You dragged the palm of your hand over your tired face, the skin pulling while your eyes looked at the alarm clock. It was only midnight. “Jesus,” you groaned, sliding onto your feet and making your way out of Eddie’s room.
“Eddie,” you whispered out into the dark living area. The shadows of branches scraping against the window crawled over the cabinets. Not one long-haired metalhead in sight. It was rare that you didn’t wake up with him next to you, of course not counting the early bathroom usage and drug deals before the track team's morning run.
You scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary, but everything looked to be in its organized chaotic mess; except for the front door, its golden lock flipped horizontally to its unlocked position.
You were met with the cold wind and mist from the downpour as soon as you pushed open the door. Eddie didn’t hear you over the thunder that erupted from the gloomy sky. His soft brown eyes were locked on the new issue of Rolling Stone, his thumb fiddling with the silver band that adorned his left ring finger. Your breath hitched as his bangs blew in the wind, the rest of his long brown hair tied up in a bun on the top of his head. “Eds,” you called sleepily as you approached, your arms crossed in a sad attempt to protect you from the storm.
His eyes looked up at you, his face softening even more as he saw you standing near the door. “Hey, sweetheart,” he cooed, closing his magazine. “Did I wake you?”
You shook your head and walked to the other side of the torn brown couch, stealing the corner of his blanket to cover your chest while you sat beside him, your head on his clothed shoulder. “The thunder,” you grumbled bitterly. You could hear him laugh from above you, his amused chuckle made your heart melt.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, baby,” he apologized softly and kissed the top of your head. “Wanna go back to bed?”
Again, you shook your head and snuggled closer with your limbs folding together to create a ball beside him. “No,” you sighed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Enjoy your storm, I’ll be here.”
Eddie nodded and kissed you once again before picking up his magazine. You relished in the small moments of Eddie consumed by peace. His body never felt more relaxed, he inhaled the scent of the rain and your perfume beside him and every one of his muscles slackened. You adored the way his eyes lit up when bright bolts of lightning lit up across the sky; you could spend hours watching him the way he watched the storm.
Your head shifted so you could see him better and in return, his arm draped across your shoulders. You shivered at the new warmth and hummed in delight. Suddenly you stilled as the thunder shook the window behind you, your hand reaching out to grip the fabric of Eddie’s old Dio t-shirt. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” he soothed, shifting in his seat so that he could place you in his lap.
“I’m not afraid,” you pouted, your hands coming out of the blanket to fiddle with the red guitar pick that hung around his neck.
Eddie’s eyebrows lifted and a cocky grin adorned his lips, “Oh, yeah?” he taunted.
You rolled your eyes and nodded firmly, “Yeah,” you retorted.
The tension didn’t last long between the two of you, quickly you broke out into playful smiles and giggles fell from your lips before he kissed you soundly. His soft lips felt warm against yours, the faint taste of vodka now lingering on your tongue. A little whimper left his throat as you pulled away, returning your attention to the light show happening in the sky.
Eddie begrudgingly wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin fitting nicely on your shoulder. You gasped as a long bolt lit up the stormy clouds, followed by another flash that lit up the entire trailer park. “Did you see that?” you giggled, your eyes opening wide in wonder.
Eddie nodded happily, squeezing a little tighter to provide you with comfort for what was about to follow. A soft whisper fell from his lips, “one…two…three…four…fiv-” the low rumble of incoming thunder got louder and louder until it finally roared from above. Eddie loved the feeling of you backing up into him like he was your protector, your hands touching him and your head finding solace in his neck.
“Why are you counting?” you asked in a hushed tone that matched his.
The metalhead blushed and parted his lips to speak. “You can, uh,” he paused for a moment, not wanting to look at the amused expression you had. “Calculate the distance of the lightning in miles.”
You snorted at his sentence. As if the man you had the privilege of sitting on top of couldn’t get any more attractive. “Didn’t know I married you for your brain, Munson.”
“You gonna make fun of me, baby?” he questioned, tilting his chin upward.
Your nose scrunched as you put your hands on the sides of his face to bring him down for another kiss. “Never,” you whispered, “that was very hot actually.”
Eddie sat up while you repositioned yourself to straddle him, the blanket falling to the damp floor.
“I thought you wanted to watch the storm with me,” he pouted as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer.
Shaking your head, you pulled away. “Not when you say hot shit like that, babe,” you sighed as you attached your lips to the side of his neck. Eddie didn’t hesitate to push you off his lap and toss the fallen blanket onto the couch.
“Let’s take this inside..."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson oneshot#stranger things
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