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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

Text

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

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f10werfae · 1 year

Note

Hey beautiful I was wondering how lumberjack Henry would react to shy wife getting drunk? Is she a happy giggling drunk? Or just randomly confident and not shy at all? ❤️

Lumberjack!Henry Dealing with Drunk Shy!Short!Wife

A/n: Loved this idea so much I made it into a spicy sweet drabble

Disclaimer 18+ / Lumberjack!Henry Masterlist

“Hey pretty girl, I missed ya” Henry whispered helping in his drunk wife, who was clearly having a damn good time at her best friend’s hen party; too precious for her own good. “I-I miss m-my hubby n-n my m-marly” She hiccuped hugging onto Henry’s side tightly for balance, his hand subtly running down her back to give her ass a tight squeeze.

“H-hey only m-my husband can do that Mister!”

Y/n scolded wagging her finger in the older man’s face, still not recognising that it was indeed her grumpy lumberjack husband, her Henry. “Oh sorry bunbun, my apologies” He smirked helping her onto their shared bed, which was full of anything pink, from pillows to small fluffy blankets; it was all for her. Henry’s cabin used to be the epitome of dark, if possible any piece of furniture was black, but now with this little light in his life that was changed. His lunches for work had tiny love notes in them, their toothpaste was strawberry flavoured, his couch had pink covers and his bedsheets were no longer black, but a dusty pink.

That wasn’t even all of it.

“Wait! Y-you just called- called me b-bunbun, n’ o-only my husband does t-that” She said squinting her eyes as he took off her heels, massaging her poor feet, before pulling down the stockings she was wearing to protect herself from the Winter cold. “I am your husband sugar, your one n’ only lumberjack” He chuckled hovering over her as she pulled him down on top of her, her hands tracing over his nose bridge as usual, “O-oh baby i-it is you! M-missed you s-so much, need y-you so bad. I-I got a little d-drunk so am sorry, b-but I love youuu” She sang out in a little song, throwing her arms around his neck, his lips raining kisses on her face as she giggled.

“S’okay bun, remember I told ya to enjoy yourself, as long as ya text me to pick ya up, n’ ya did” Henry replied slowly, pulling down the side zipper of her black sweater dress, her head lazily nodding along to his words. “Are ya p-proud of me? M-made sure to keep an e-eye on my drinks n-n’ I didn’t go t-to the toilet a-alone, and AND! I r-replied to y-your hourly t-texts” She hiccuped smiling proudly to herself, her arms coming up so Henry could pull the dress off her, leaving her in her favourite pair and comfortable pair of granny panties; which Henry swiftly took off because of the rule, no panties indoors.

“Mhm so proud of you bun, couldn’t make me happier, did ya enjoy yourself?” Henry smirked placing a kiss right above her pussy making her shudder, before pulling up her sleep shorts, which were actually Henry’s that shrunk in the laundry. Her giggles filling his ears as she tangled her hands in his mop of curls, his hands lifting hers up to put the shirt on, but not without unclipping her bra first. “N-no, don’t wanna shirt, s’too warm” She whined flopping around like a fish, making him sigh and just throw the shirt to the side, not like he was complaining much.

“n’ what if ya get cold baby?” He quirked helping her crawl under the soft crisp covers, his hands coming to push a headband on, keeping her hair away from her gorgeous face. Reaching for the micellar water on the nightstand, he took a few cotton pads and began wiping the light makeup she had put on that night, her mouth jokingly trying to bite onto the cotton.

“Ey, no bitin’ or else no sexy time” Henry smirked instantly watching her stop and straighten her face, but her lips filled into a pout. “I-if I get cold, then I-I have you s-silly” She smiled once he finished, her head bouncing side to side on the pillow, her energy still bouncing off the walls. “Mhm you’re right bun, i’ll keep ya warm, all night” He whispered sliding into his side of the bed, his hand patting his chest invitingly as she wiggled over, her head landing on top of his pec. “Y-you’re so fuzzy n’ warm, I-I kept tellin’ the girls, th-they were sooo j-jealous. Course I told them, y-ya were mine, LOOK AT MY FINGER!” She rambled holding up her left finger, pointing at the golden wedding band sitting snugly, a giddy smile on her face as she felt Henry’s hand rubbing up and down her side.

Henry’s chest swelled with pride at the thought of his precious little wife getting the confidence to tell people she was his, proudly showing off how they claimed each other with the rings on their fingers, the next step of putting a baby in her already cooking in his head. “Gah maybe I should let you get drunk more often sugar, you’re like a little sprout of energy, but I miss my little sugar pie who needs me” He grumbled kissing her cheek wetly, hearing her squeak in delight at the affection. “I-I do need you bear, m-more than ya know, am y-your woman af-after all”

Grinning she leant up and kissed his lips sloppily, the taste of Vodka on her tongue causing Henry to smirk and deepen the kiss, her whimpers and moans being swallowed by him readily. Her fingers trying to direct his hand to her needy clit, but she failed. “W-why not?” She whined against his lips, a string of saliva connecting their mouths, her eyes glistening like stars. “Not right now bunbun, not when ya drunk alright?”

“S-so I have ta wait till mornin’ t-to h-have sexy time?”

“Well the quicker ya sleep the quicker ya wake up my love” He chuckled softly caressing her cheek, her skin soft n’ smooth to touch, the scars from her acne only defining her beauty further. “Hm okay!” She replied closing her eyes tightly pretending to sleep, before yawning and opening her eyes, “Is it morning?”

“Not funny sugar, go ta bed” He growled nipping her nipples gently, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “fine fine i’ll go to bed, mr grumpy” She whispered nuzzling into his chest, and within seconds her small snores vibrated against her husband’s hairy chest; Henry smiling triumphantly.

——-

A/n: I found this so cute and fun to write🥹🥹

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25 @helenaellie

lots of love xoxo

lots of love xx

lots of love xo

Lots of love🫶

#henry cavill #lumberjack!henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x shy!reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Treat Me Like A Slut

Title: Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 2K

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Warnings: m!Dom/f!sub, Dom!August, sub!reader, bondage, flogging, gagging with panties, butt plug, unprotected vaginal sex, unprotected anal sex, creampie

A/N: I wrote this because I needed to get it out of my head. August Walker needs to start paying rent in my head. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by Me

My Masterlist

“August, please–” You tried to plead with your Dom but he cut you off so fast that it made your head spin.

“You’ve lost your privileges to use my name, Angel. Now, as I was saying, panties off and give them to me.” He reached out his hand expectantly.

You rose from your chair and reached under your dress until you hook your fingers along the waistband of your thong. Pulling it down slowly, you maintain eye contact with August. You step out of it and put them in his waiting hand. Putting the underwear in his pocket, he nods.

“Kneel.” He commands, unbuttoning the cuffs of his deep purple dress shirt and then rolling them up to reveal his hairy, vein-streaked forearms.

“Yes, Sir.” You reply and lower to your knees, knowing that you can’t talk your way out of this one.

“I think it’s time to remind you who’s in charge here, Angel. You seem to have forgotten.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You keep your eyes lowered to the unforgiving wooden floor beneath you.

“I wish I could believe you. Follow me, Angel,” You start to rise before August stops you, “No. You’re to crawl behind me. And one more thing,” He leans down and pushes the button on the bottom of the plug currently nestled inside you.

When it comes to life, you let out a strangled moan. You had been wearing the new plug for hours and weren’t aware of the vibration feature. Starting to squirm, you open your mouth to plead with August.

“Before you even start, this was your doing, wasn’t it? Bothering me while I worked earlier today. And then doing so again not a handful of hours later. It’s almost as if you like being punished, Angel,” He smirks down at you, knowing the last bit to be true, “Hands and knees, follow me.”

Leaving his office, you move as fast as you can behind him. With every movement, you can feel the vibrations against your hole. You try and hide your arousal but your frail resolve betrays you. You let out a groan and are surprised to bump into the solid wall that is August’s leg.

He sighs deeply but doesn’t turn around as he addresses you, “If you cum before you’ve been given permission, there will be hell to pay. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” You force the words out as you struggle to steady your breathing.

When August starts to walk again, you follow him. In your bedroom, happy to be on plush carpeting, you feel yourself begin to relax. Too soon, you find.

August sits on one side of the four-poster bed you share and beckons you with one finger. You stand on wobbly legs and he pulls you forward and over his lap. You could have figured this is where this day was going to go, but you were too busy being a brat to think of the consequences.

Pulling your dress up over your ass, he massages the flesh of your globes. “You’re going to count these out, Angel. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” You answer and feel August reach over you to the nightstand drawer. You know what’s in that drawer and you stiffen in his lap.

“Oh, now you see the repercussion, huh? If you didn’t want the flogger, you shouldn’t have misbehaved.” He allows you to hold onto his pant leg as he pulls out the aforementioned tool.

He lets the leather tendrils ghost over the skin of your calves and thighs. Raising the flogger above his shoulder, he delivers the first blow.

“One.”

“Hm. This angle…I don’t like it. Up, Angel,” He walks around to the other side of the bed and has you lay down on your stomach in the center of the bed, “Just like that. Now, you are going to keep your legs open for me. If you can’t do that, I can restrain your ankles to the bed just as easily.”

You turn your head behind you and see that the cuffs are already attached to the foot of the bed and your eyebrows raise.

“Angel, if you want to be cuffed, just say so.” He smiles down at you, relishing your excitement.

“Sir, I would like to be restrained.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you. Would you like your wrists cuffed as well or just the ankles?”

“Wrists and ankles please, Sir.”

“My sweet Angel, as you wish.” He goes about locking both ankles into the heavy cuffs, planting a gentle kiss just above where the leather sits against your skin. Moving to the head of the bed, he locks your wrists into the restraints as well.

You test your mobility and you get a thrill out of the thought of giving complete control to August. You look at him and nod that you are ready to begin.

“You’re going to count to ten, Angel. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

As he begins his assault on your ass, you count aloud. Every thunderclap is harder and louder than the last. More than once, one of the tendrils falls between your spread legs and slaps against the plug or your netherlips.

Thwap! “Ten!”

August grunts and throws the flogger on the bed. He walks to the end of the bed and surveys his handiwork as he begins to undress. He can see where there will be bruising tomorrow, he’ll remember to go easy on you later. He grins when you wriggle your hips, showing off your still-vibrating plug and leaking cunt.

Taking your panties out of his pocket before taking his pants off, he walks to the head of the bed where you turn to look at him.

“What color, Angel?”

“Green, Sir.” You smile lazily.

“Good. Open your mouth,” You open your mouth and he stuffs your underwear inside, “Now that you’re gagged, we’re gonna use fingers. Thumb out means good, your first finger means to slow down, and your middle finger means stop. Okay?”

You extend both thumbs and smile around your panties. He caresses your cheek and crawls on the bed, kneeling behind your ass and stroking his thick, hard cock. Reaching over you, he steals a pillow and props your hips up to give him easier access.

Using a finger, he collects some of your pussy juice and swirls it around your clit. You didn’t expect him to use the other hand to scratch down one abused cheek. When that wrangles a moan out of you, he licks and lays kisses upon both cheeks. He peppers in some nibbles on a few sensitive spots on your hips as well.

With you savoring the attention on your bottom, you weren’t expecting for August to enter you in the next breath. The heat, the warmth, the tightness. They welcome him in and elicit a hiss from both of you.

Pulling out slowly and then slamming back in rocks the bed and it feels amazing. August puts one hand on the back of your neck and one on your hip. Starting his rhythm again, he crashes his hips against yours in an almost animalistic pattern. Rutting into you, he praises you for being such a good girl for him.

Writhing beneath him, you’re forced to take every thrust he dishes out. Feeling him so deep inside you at this angle, you thank your lucky stars that this is what happens after you accept your fate. You get to have this god of a man pounding out your insides in the middle of the day.

You were too in your head to notice when August turns up the vibration on the butt plug. The muffled wail that comes out of your mouth is music to his ears and you feel him twitch inside you, but he doesn’t stop.

No, he’s not going to cum before you do.

“Don’t hold back, Angel. Come for me. Come all over my cock.” He breathes, the hand on the back of your neck is now moving around to the front as he applies slight pressure to the sides.

Your legs start to shake and you can feel the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. The hand that was at your hip now reaches up to remove the thong from your mouth just in time for you to release a heavenly howl that reverberates through the both of you.

Before you come down from your euphoric high, you feel the plug being removed from your ass. It’s being replaced with the blunt tip of August’s cock and you love the sensation of being stretched around him as he sinks in.

“Fuck, Angel. You’re like a fucking vice, so good for me.” He loves the moments like this where you’re all fucked out. Your semi-lifeless body underneath him is just for his pleasure at this point.

What neither of you expected was for your breathing to pick up in a manner that could only mean one thing. You could feel the knot inside you tightening again. Before you even try and ask, you’re commanded.

“Come for me, Angel.” He’s wrapping an arm around your neck and the other around your upper torso as you let go.

You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing and your asshole gripping his dick so much so that he has to pause in fucking you.

But, he doesn’t mind it for long as you feel him engorged and pulsing inside you within seconds. He rests his head against yours for a beat while he comes down. As he begins to soften, you can feel him slip out of you followed by some of his spend.

He lays a kiss on your shoulder before unwrapping himself from around you. He trails kisses down your back, stopping just before your plump rear. He uses both hands to open your ass and watch as his jizz drips down your ass and pussy lips.

He releases you from the cuffs, rubbing the space where they sat upon your skin. He retrieves a wet washcloth from the en suite bathroom and wipes you down before laying in bed next to you and pulling you close.

He smiles down at you as you tangle your fingers in his chest hair.

“All you wanted was attention, am I right?” He asks, his hand tracing patterns on one hip.

“Yes, but–”

“But, you thought you could interrupt me and not be punished for it.”

You hide your face in his shoulder and try and end the conversation. He grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.

“Sounds like this won’t be the last time that you interrupt me for attention. Do I even get a ‘sorry’ for the time you took me away from my work?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

When August deems your apology to be sincere, he places a chaste kiss on your lips. When you furrow your brows and whine, he rolls his eyes before leaning back in to claim your mouth. Not wanting to rile you up again, he lets go of your chin and lays back down.

“Ya know, I spoil you, Angel.” He winks at you as you nod exuberantly.

“I know, Sir. And thank you.”

“Now, where was this polite girl an hour ago?” He raises an eyebrow and shoots a look at you.

“Busy being ignored, Sir.”

He opens his mouth for a retort, but he doesn’t have one.

“Valid point,” He laughs inwardly, one arm going behind his head, “Can you forgive me, Angel?”

Leaning up on one arm and donning a serious face, you answer him, “I think I can be persuaded to forgive you.”

“That serious, huh?”

You nod gravely, “I think it might cost you, Sir.”

“Ah, and what might that be?”

“A weekend away. Just you and me, please?” Your eyes couldn’t get any more adorable than they were at that point.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “I think I can arrange that.”

“Thank you, August,” You say, kissing his cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rubs soothing circles on your hip until your breathing even out and you both take a much-deserved nap.

A/N: I got the title from the Kim Petras song, Treat Me Like A Slut. That song never fails to make me think of August and I had to write out my thots.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

@rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker smut #august walker fanfic #august walker x reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #mission: impossible fallout #mission impossible: fallout #mission: impossible fallout #mission impossible fallout #mission impossible

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ghost-whump · 6 months

Text

For Your Own Good

Second part to my first post!

CW: Institutionalized whump, (mental) hospital setting, vaguely creepy whumper, doctor whumper/patient whumpee, [discussed] shock therapy/ECT, restraints, implied future electricity/shock whump. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

Whumpee didn’t struggle. Couldn’t struggle.

“Come on,” Whumper held on tight to the front of the straitjacket, hand wrapped around the belt, “We shouldn’t waste time, should we?” A vicious smile tugged their lips.

Whumpee remained silent, biting at the skin of their lip. Their feet dragged slowly forward, a death march into the dark, dark room. The fear that shot down their spine at every step couldn’t hold a candle to the fire that lit under their heels, pressing them forward still.

Then, kck! shhhh… whoomph. Door closed.

No more escape. Even without the jacket, even if Whumper couldn’t catch them, the air-locked door wouldn’t budge for anything. Only illuminated by the glow of the various screens and panels and buttons and keypads, the room is a void.

A single cold slab of a “bed” stands menacingly in the center. Adorned with worn leather straps that rubbed skin raw, scuff marks from banging and scratching at the surface, all topped off with a tasteful spatter of blood near the middle.

Though, large hands undid each buckle on their person, leaving the jacket to fall to the floor. Whumpee immediately wrapped their arms around their torso, trying to cover as much bare skin as possible. Not that it would help, but it made them feel better.

“Well?” Whumper, who had pulled away by now, “You know what to do.” They gesture vaguely to the table and turn around to play with the buttons and screens.

And the doctor isn’t wrong. Whumpee does know what to do. Lay down, head forward, legs together, stare up and up and up at the ceiling.

“You’re getting quite good at this, Whumpee.” Whumper’s face came into light above them, a wicked grin twisting their face into one even scarier than usual.

Whumpee closed their eyes. They couldn’t look anymore. If they didn’t look, maybe it would stop. Maybe they’d wake up in their cell (…or their home, if they dared dream that far) and would behave this time. Never have to—

“Ah!” A thick strip of leather tightened suddenly around their wrist. Whumpee yelped and their eyes flew open.

Whumper shook their head, “Tsk, Whumpee. You were doing so well,” They buckled the strap, far too fast and tight than anytime before. They tilted Whumpee’s head, doing the same to their other wrist. “You know, I was even considering letting you off easy with some solitary. Yet you had to go and look away from me. You’re usually so good at eye contact.”

“That—agh, that hurts!” Whumpee pulled at the restraints, though they knew it was futile. “P-Please, I’m sorry, I—mmpf!”

The final strap of leather struck their face, its specialised rubber gag worming between their teeth. Protests now barely audible, Whumper smiled and pulled away. “There you go, Whumpee. That’s better now.”

Phantom pains shot through their veins, preparing for what’s to come. Each sticky node placed under their shirt wracked another sob from their chest. No matter how much it happened, it never got easier. Feeling their body seize with each passing second, flashing colors and lights that didn’t really come, nightmarish terror that never stopped.

“It’s alright,” Whumper flashed their teeth, placing the final two nodes on Whumpee’s temples, “The ECT is for your own good. Don’t you feel better after it’s done?”

They tried to shake their head, No! It feels bad! Bad bad bad! It hurt! But it didn’t stop Whumper. The doctor turned around, taking their time in approaching the large lever on the wall.

Whumper’s hand gripped the lever tight, throwing one last glance to their writhing patient. Readjusting their grip, they get ready to finally pull down. “Don’t worry, Whumpee, you’ll feel much better after we’re done.”

really not sure how happy i am with this one, but i figured it be best to post it! enjoy :]

#whump #whump scenario #whump prompt #whump community #whump tropes #whumpblr #asylum whump #medical whump #electricity whump #shock whump #anticipation whump #?? is that a thing #let’s hope so #creepy whumper #my stuff

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kitixie · 9 months

Text

Gardens of Babylon / T.S.

word count: 4k

information: whew. y'all, this one is long but i am so so proud of it. i loved getting to write this, and i feel like "cowboy like me" now belongs to Tommy. please enjoy!!

warnings: sadness, a lot of self introspection

There had been parties around Birmingham all year, but this one was poised to be the best. Large, white tents covered the ground of the luxurious backyard, the grass freshly trimmed. The pristine flower bushes were banked in sprays of purple, pink and yellow flowers, filling the air with a refreshing scent. Taking in your surroundings was one of your favorite parts of the job. You learn so much about people based on the smallest detail, like how they arrange tables, how well they dress for their own event, how well people try to hide the skeletons in their closets for the night.

When you were 16, you became your fathers right hand woman. Taking charge of stake-outs, surveying the people your father saw as a threat, and other tasks that most fathers would never let their daughter do. But your father was blinded by his power, only seeing what he could gain, never seeing what others would lose. That’s how you wound up here, five years later, striding through a stranger's yard, using a fake name to get into the event. You just had one specific mission tonight: make contact with Thomas Shelby.

You found him an hour after the party had started, lounging against an outdoor wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. You waited, pulling your own smoke from your small purse, and lighting it up. Standing casually with your shoulders relaxed against the wall, you breathed in, deeply inhaling the nicotine. Immediately, any of the nerves you had relaxed. Thomas was just a man, albeit a dangerous one, but he would never even know your real name. No matter what came from tonight, you would end up back home in your bed. Closing your eyes and opening your ears, you could hear the sounds of music. It was a slow tempo song, but the melody was beautiful. It was a familiar song, although you couldn’t put your tongue on the name of it. Softly humming the song, you stamped out your cigarette and followed the music past Thomas towards the courtyard. Just as your kitten heels touched the dancing floor that had been laid over the grass, a tall figure stopped beside you.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” The man asked, only visible in your peripheral.

“It is, I-“ You turned to face the man, it was Thomas.

You took him in, he looked much different up close. His file only said ‘brown hair, blue eyes, average build’, but you could see nothing average about the man. He was thick, with wide shoulders and a well defined waist. His eyes weren’t just blue, they were pools of sky and ocean and reflections of the string lights hanging above your heads. His hair was varying shades of brown, ranging from lighter pieces of caramel to deep strands that were almost black. His eyebrows were dark and prominent on his face, but they weren’t too much like some men. His pink lips were turned up into a small smile, and your eyes scanned his face again before catching on his mouth for a moment. You looked him in the eyes as the music changed, the new song catching your attention.

“Care for a dance Miss….?” He trailed off, waiting for you to tell him your name.

“Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr. Shelby. But yes, I’d be happy to dance with you.”

He offered his hand, and the two of you stepped into the crowd of swaying people. He placed his left hand on your waist. The right hand gripping yours. He slowly began swaying the both of you in time to the music, before he spoke.

“I still don’t know ya name, Love. How come ya already know mine?” He asked, meeting your eyes.

“My name is Taylor, and I’m not sure if ya know, but you're quite famous around here, Mr. Shelby.” You said, trying to rain in your anxiety.

Had you fucked up by calling him by his name? He knew he had enemies, and if he was smart, he’d see right through the little innocent girl facade you were using. But maybe, he wasn’t that smart. Maybe, he’d see you, you’d be his perfect type, and there would be no more questions. Maybe the two of you would spend more time together after this and you could cover for yourself even more… no. The rules your father had given were very specific, and you were to stick to them tightly. No unauthorized time with the subject of the mission, at any point in time. The rules were rules for a reason, and there was no questioning them. You had worked to hard, come home too many times with your hands caked in both literal and metaphorical blood to stray now. But this was different, he was different. He wasn’t the usual rich prick who got off too far in debt or the typical middle men who worked for your father than needed to be eliminated. He was someone, something, else entirely. He was kind, and his hands were gentle. His voice was soft yet commanding, and you knew that this man could tell you to drop to your knees and you would, even if your father was standing right behind you. Perhaps dancing with him was more of a dangerous game than you thought.

“You’re right about that one, Love. Sometimes I just forget who I am when I see a beautiful woman.” He crooned, swinging your arm and making your skirts furl around you as you twirled.

A blush crept across your face, a laugh breaking through your lips.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby, I-“

“Please, call me Tommy.” He interrupted.

“Tommy,” you repeated, letting his name run through your mouth, “I appreciate the compliment but I’m sure there are prettier women at this party.”

“I didn’t say pretty, Taylor, I said beautiful.” He spoke, sliding his hand from your waist to cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to hold his gaze.

“Actu-, never mind. Thank you, Tommy.”

Fuck. You had almost corrected him on your name. You needed to get away from him, his scent filling your head and making you feel almost high. It was intoxicating, and it was trouble. No man had ever made you feel like this, not ever. No one had ever taken away you sharpness, and without your wits you felt naked. You inhaled a deep breath, and thanked God when the song ended and he stepped back from you.

“Taylor, if ya would be willin’, I’d like to spend more time with ya.” Tommy spoke, something sparkling in his eye.

You swore you knew that look, it was the same look you always gave to targets, to draw them in and make them trust you. To make them do as you said. Before you could even think about it, your mouth opened.

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You smiled, willing that feeling of mistrust to go away.

You deserved this, to enjoy him. Even if he was wrong, even if he was your target. You had never wanted love, you had always wanted other things for yourself. But you wanted Tommy, and so for tonight, you would allow yourself to have him.

“What’ll ya have to drink, Love?” Tommy spoke, turning his entire body towards you.

He had taken you to a place called The Garrison, which you knew he frequented, but ‘Taylor’ had to act like she’d never heard of it. You’d spent many nights holed up in the dark back corner of this bar, watching him and his brothers pass in and out of the back room.

“Just a whiskey, please,” You smiled at him, “Whatever kind you’re having is fine.”

“So and Irish then?” He asked, and you nodded your head in response.

At least that wasn’t a lie, you did enjoy whiskey on occasion, but never while you had been working. Always the professional, you were thinking of how to use this to your advantage. Drunk Tommy would surely divulge some sort of weakness? Right?

Tommy grabbed your drinks, and led you to the backroom of the pub. The room was empty, now except for the two of you. He sat down, choosing the table that was circled by a booth seat. He sat with his back to the door, which was an interesting choice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. You sat on the opposite side of the semicircle, and that small creeping feeling came back into your mind. You knew him, more than he would ever know. Thomas Shelby would never put himself at a disadvantage, never. So why put his back to the only door in the room? Why let you be the one with a clear path to escape if somehow this all went wrong? Was he that confident in his ability to charm and wow you, that he would dangle an exit in front of your face, only to be sure that you wouldn’t take it? Your brain was running a thousand words a second, never letting up on the thought that Tommy, who had yet to show any hint of cruelty towards you, was one step ahead. Had he figured you out? It wasn’t possible, your father made sure you stayed hidden until he wanted you to be seen, and even then, you were only seen by those you wanted to see you. How would he have known you were an operative for your father? Did your stumble earlier when he said your alias give you away? Was it the way that you clearly did not belong in the crowd at that party, feet slightly swollen by the tight heels, shoulders hunched over due to the many days you spent curled in a chair by the window? How could he have kn-

“Drink, Love. A blind man could see that somethings on your mind. What is it?” He spoke, sliding a glass of whiskey across the table toward you.

You shakily wrapped your fingers around the glass, pulling it to your lips and taking a long sip.

“It’s nothin’, just reliving some family troubles in my head. I’d much rather be focused on you though.” You said, allowing a sultry tone to enter your voice; men could never resist.

“If it's botherin’ ya, it’s not nothing. Tell me about it, believe me, I understand family troubles.” He laughed, taking a swallow from his own glass.

“I don’t want to rehash it, Tommy, if it’s all the same to you.” You put a stern face on, not liking him questioning you.

He raised his hands in an apologetic movement, sitting back in his seat. He grazed his eyes across your face, looking over you. Suddenly you felt small, sitting in front of him, telling him half-lies and half-truths. Not that he’d ever know, but you did. The realization that you felt bad for lying to him shot a sharp pain of sadness through your chest, only to be beaten by the overwhelming sense of anger that you felt for feeling bad at all. This was a job, and while yes, you had agreed to let yourself enjoy tonight, that didn’t mean forgetting your assignment.

“Tell me about you, Tommy. You have this sense of mystery that I can’t figure out for the life of me.” You said, tracing your fingertip around the rim of your glass.

“Not much to tell, darlin’. I live here in Birmingham with my family, we run a small business. No mum or dad to speak of, I spend a lot of time here, just watchin’.” He spoke, and you felt like he was telling the truth.

Not that he had said anything you didn’t already know, you knew about his mom and dad, and you knew a hell of a lot about his ‘small business’ as he put it. You knew all about his family, you had almost decided to go for Arthur instead of Tommy, but then you realized that just because Arthur was older didn’t mean he was in charge, and then Tommy became your main target.

You nodded your head at him, storing all of the information he had said in exact detail in your brain. Tommy studied you, almost as if he was doing the same thing you were. Except now, you thought that he was only studying you because he was interested in you. He watched your eyes, holding contact anytime you accidentally met his. He looked at your cheeks, your mouth, all the way down to your slightly exposed collar bones. He gave you another moment, before speaking up again.

“Would you like to dance with me, Love?” He asked, extending his hand to you.

“There’s no music Tommy, what do ya want to dance to?” You laughed, accepting his hand into yours regardless.

A spark of electricity flew between your connected fingertips, and instead of flinching, you pulled him closer. Now standing in front of him, you had forgotten how tall he was in the short time the both of you had been sitting.

“I was thinking you could sing, or I can hum if that’ll suffice. I just want to dance with you, Taylor.” He spoke, his shining eyes looking into yours with what seemed like only adoration.

“Start humming then, Tommy, because I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” you laughed, “My mother could sing wonderfully, but I never inherited that talent.”

Tommy began to hum, a soft song coming from his lips. It sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Not that it mattered, if you ever recognized the song, this would be the moment it was tied to. This second in time, burned into your brain for the rest of your life. His hands delicately on your waist, with your hung over his shoulders. Your fingers lightly scratching the nape of his neck while he rubbed his hand up and down your back, slowly swaying the both of you in rhythm to the song he was creating. The skirt of your dress swishing around the both of your feet, the quieted sounds of the pub outside going silent in your mind. Here, in your space, it was only you and Tommy. Over the years, you had charmed countless men, telling them anything they wanted to hear, even doing some of the questionable things they wanted to do. Whatever it took to get the job done. This felt different though, this felt soft and warm and inviting. Tommy felt like he belonged in your arms, and that if he were to leave them, the awkward limbs would never fit against your side again. He felt like a home, a breath of fresh air, a lover. This was romantic and sweet, and the longing in his eyes and gentle touch of his hands only escalated that feeling for you.

Tommy stopped humming a few minutes later, but he continued swaying with you in his grasp. He leaned his head towards yours, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling the scent of tobacco and whiskey. He let his lips linger on your crown, not moving from his spot.

“I think I should take ya home, aye Love? It’s pretty early in the morning.” He softly said, almost not speaking loud enough to hear.

“If that’s what you want, Tommy. I’d be content to stay here dancing with you for a very, very long time.” You tilted your head up at him.

Tommy slid his hands up your back and over your shoulders, ending with his palms against your cheeks. He stared into your eyes for the hundredth time that evening, and there was something unfamiliar in them. Whatever he was feeling, you couldn’t read it, but you didn’t care. All caution and sense gone to the wayside, you perched on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He deepened the kiss, pulling your entire body into his. The two of you fit together perfectly, bodies molding into each other, forming one being. This kiss was only your second kiss ever, so there wasn’t much to compare to, but it was mind blowing. His warmth spreading all over your body, from your connected lips to the spots his hands rested to the way he had situated you with your legs on either side of one of his lean legs.

Eventually you pulled away, finally needing air. He still cupped your face, both of your foreheads pressed together. His chest was heaving, panting breaths coming from both of your mouths.

“It’s time to get you home, Love. Before I lose all composure and ruin this perfect night.” He breathed, untangling your bodies and pulling his face from yours. He still held your hand, leading you toward the door that would lead into the main pub, then out of the bar altogether. You took in the scene one last time, knowing that this could never happen again after tonight. You had let your ambitions slip, almost too far to come back from. Your heart beat wildly, the organ not caring about the betrayal you were imposing upon your father. How could you care about that miserable man, when the God that was Thomas Shelby was holding your hand, escorting you to your apartment?

Tommy deposited you at the door to your small apartment, the walk to your home having been mostly silent. No words needed to be shared between the two of you, both of you having the dreading feeling of something coming. You didn’t know what was coming, but none of it mattered as he pressed his lips gently to your cheek, before pulling back to speak.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Love. Would you mind if I called you sometime to do it again one day?” He smiled, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You grinned back, writing your phone number down onto a small piece of paper you had in your purse.

He took the paper, pressing one last kiss to your lips. His mouth was firm against yours, yet it moved so softly and swiftly that the fierceness in his actions didn’t scare you. Your body reacted, back arching into him while your mouth matched his movements. You gripped the side of his face, daring him to try and back away before you were done with him. His hands clasped around your waist, tugging on your already arched back, trying to get you as close to him as possible. The both of you tugged and moved against each other, not caring that you were in a hallway and that any neighbor, all of whom worked for your father, could step out at any moment. Almost sensing your tensing, Tommy slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes while his chest heaved.

“I’ll see you later, Tommy?” You asked, hoping and praying that he’d say yes.

“Goodbye, Taylor.” He smiled, kissing your hands before turning and walking down the hallway, your paper still tucked in his left hand.

It had been four days since you met Tommy, and two days since you started being paranoid. You would not leave your machine unattended for more than 10 minutes at a time, and when you had to leave its side for things like food and cleaning yourself, you made sure no other noise was going on so that you’d be able to hear it when it rang. He had to call eventually, he had said he would. You knew he was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of his descriptors in his file. He had never been known as a man who didn’t tell the truth, his truthfulness was honestly one of his greatest downfalls. It got him in trouble quite often, causing him to blurt off whatever he was thinking, with no care for the consequences.

This time wasn’t different, right? Surely he didn’t charm you all night, walk you home, ask for your number, make out with you outside the door of your apartment, then just not call?

The anxiety had begun to take its toll, your skin becoming more pale and dreary than usual, eyes slightly hollowing from the lack of proper food and sleep. No time could be wasted, not when he could call at any hour. You waited, and waited, and waited. He would remember what the two of you shared, surely. He would.

On day seven, you found a small paper slid under your door. It wasn’t from your fathers office, and you didn’t recognize any of your few friends stationary. Cautiously, you unfolded it, reading the words scrawled in ink.

‘Taylor, or should I say Y/N, I hope this letter finds you well. Truly. However, I do not like being lied to. You have not received any calls from me because I never intended to call you. I let my wits leave me that night, and it will never happen again. You are not who you said you were, and for that I cannot ever trust you again. If you ever see me in Birmingham, do not approach me and pray my brothers do not see you first. I liked you, Darling, I am damn near certain I loved you, but that does not matter if I cannot trust you. I know who your father is, I have known from the moment I saw you smoking in that courtyard, yet you were so beautiful I could not help myself. Do not worry, for your sake, I will not speak of this to anyone if you do not. If you do, I will know, and I will be forced to retaliate. I wish you the best in this life, Love.

All the best,

Thomas Shelby

& The Peaky Blinders’

You dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the floor. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. How could you ever be so foolish? You had let this man control your life for the past seven days, dictating how you ate, how you slept, how you looked at yourself. Every doubt of his character from that night came rushing back. You had been right to think those things of him, to not trust him, but he was so beautiful and gentle, and he sucked you in. He devoured you, and you were happy to offer yourself up for him. You would have been happy to do anything he asked of you.

Your breaths began to become short and exasperated, your face hot and wet from the tears. It felt like a chokehold around your throat, but there were no hands on your throat but your own. You clawed at your skin, willing it to tear open just so you could breathe, but it didn’t happen. You scratched and scratched until you bled, only stopping when you saw the crimson underneath your fingernails. Breathing still did not come, so you laid on the floor, sobbing and heaving, until you had no more tears and oxygen entered your lungs once more. You clung to the piece of paper, the last bit of Tommy you would ever have. You could not have him, but you had his words and his handwriting. You had the faintest smell of him in the paper, the littlest bit of him still with you. His words would be all that you were left with, while he was saddled with his love and your guilt. You wished you had just told him your name, just told him who you were. Damn all of this if it meant you could have him, but it was too late. You would never get to see him again, never get to smell him, never get to touch him. You would never have any part of Tommy Shelby ever again except for this letter and your memories. No man would compare to him, no man could. The way he held you, the way conversation was so effortless and comfortable. The way that even in silence, he filled up a space, never letting you feel alone. He was something so special, so tangible, and you had lost him. There would never be another love for you, never be anyone else. He was your love, even if only for that night, and you knew in your soul that you would never love again.

#tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #kitixiewrites

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sexualtensiongrowing21 · 4 months

Text

Prompt: “Just a while longer.” // Stiles Stilinski x reader

Trigger Warnings // None?

I got home from the hospital this morning. Five days of being stuck there and I was finally home. Scott and Isaac haven't left me alone since they helped me lay down on my bed.

“You don't have to babysit me. I'm fine, really.” I flash a smile their way.

“Y/N, you were attacked by an alpha. We could have lost you.” I grimace. I had snuck into the abandoned bank with Allison to try and help the boys. Before Ennis fell with Derek he had thrown me into a wall. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital and Derek was dead.

“Yes, but I'm okay. I promise. I'm not going anywhere. Now please. Leave me alone. I need to shower and I don't think either of you want to be here while I change.” Scott makes a face of disgust while Isaac raises his eyes in thought. He clears his throat “Well, I mean if you’re offering…” He smiles while my brother grabs him by the shoulder and makes him follow him out of the room.

I get up slowly and walk to the bathroom. Turning on the water as hot as it will go I let it run while I undress. New scares litter my body. Across my collar bone, nail marks along my wrists, scratches down my thighs. A completely different person stares back at me from a year ago. Before I knew of werewolves and there were no crazy darachs trying to sacrifice anyone. Sighing, I step into the shower.

I wrap a towel around myself as I step out of the bathroom into my room. I come to a stop when I see Stiles on my bed. He stands quickly once he finally notices me.

“Uh- Scott let me in. Said you got home this morning.” I look at him. He looks awful, like he hasn't slept in days.

“I did.” As if just realizing I am only in a towel his face reddens and he turns around while covering his eyes. A small laugh escapes my lips as I grab my brother's Beacon Hills lacrosse t-shirt and some shorts. Once I am dressed I make my way to the bed grabbing Stiles hands and pulling him to sit with me on the bed.

He is examining my face closely as if trying to memorize all my features. He places his hand on the side of my face and leans his forehead to mine. “I thought I lost you.” He says barely above a whisper “Never.” I said, closing my eyes and meeting his lips with mine.

We are cuddling under the blankets watching Twilight when I finally have the nerve to ask him the question that's been on my mind since I woke up in the hospital five days ago.

“Why didn't you come and see me?” I pause, moving in his arms so that I am facing him. He closes his eyes with a pained expression.

“I was there.” he swallows. “But I couldn't bring myself to go into your room.” I furrow my brows in confusion. “What? Why?” He won't look at me so I bring my hands to his face so that I can see his eyes. I always get lost in his honey brown eyes.

“I was supposed to protect you. But when I looked around you were gone. You had left and I didnt notice.” a single tear escapes his eye. “If I wasn't so distracted I could have stopped you and you wouldn't be hurt.” He puts his hands on top of mine and pulls them from his face to intertwine his fingers with mine.

A pang of guilt hits my heart. “Oh Stiles, it's not your fault. I knew you would try and stop me.” I squeeze his hands. “I promise I will always tell you when I'm leaving, but just know I will always try and help. No matter what. I can't lose my brother.” he slowly nods his head. “I know.. I was just scared. You mean so much to me Y/N.” I smile and lean over and kiss him which he returns.

After the movie was over I had fallen asleep and started to wake up to the feeling of Stiles trying to get out of bed. “Stay.” I mumble sleepily. “It's late. Scott wouldn't be happy if I stayed the night.” Reaching around the bed with my eyes closed I find his chest and push him down to me. I place my head back on his chest. “Just a while longer, I sleep better when you're here.”

He finally gives in and his arm comes to wrap around my back. He kisses the top of my head. “Fine. Only for you.”

Just before I am about to fall asleep again I whisper. “ I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

#stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski #writting prompt #stiles stilinski x you #teenwolf fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #scott mccall imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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softtcurse · 2 years

Text

You found this, You need this

contains 18 + content , please do not read of you are not 18+

“Jack I really have to go” You laugh as you feel him place kisses all over the underside of your neck. His hands gripping your hips teasingly. He didn’t want you to leave, and you knew that. Unfortunately for him he knew your situation. It wasn’t an easy one but he understood the premise of it. You wanted to be with Jack, the timing was just off. A deep out of guilt always sets in your gut when he talks to you about your future together. You wanted it to happen as soon as possible.

Just a little more time

“Why do you have to go hmm? You don’t even want to leave, practically soaking my fingers through your panties baby” He spoke into your head. A shudder made its way up your spin. His voice always did it for you. His hands were heaven sent too. He knew what he did to you and it’s not like you minded anyways.

“He’s gonna start being annoying and asking me where I’m at again” You pouted. Your hands finding his curls. You were laid back on his bed, where you have found yourself more than once before. Nearly three months of sneaking behind your current boyfriend’s back to see Jack. It’s like his house is your home now too. He’s made it evident that he really does want it to be. You looked down at his lips. They were already a little bit and even you couldn’t help yourself to lean it to give him a kiss. His tongue chasing yourself. Your body was like his kryptonite. He always wanted to find himself buried in the opening of your thighs, having you whimper his name.

“You don’t have to tell him shit” Jack said with a roll of his eyes. His hands tugging at your shirt. You obliged. Blinking your eyes up at him as he worked in his own shirt. Tossing it aside and then looking down at you. “So many damn clothes on” He tsked. “I should punish you for that” He said jokingly with a grin. You let out a laugh of your own and rubbed your hands down his back. Perfectly manicured nails that the man above you himself had paid for. You always did love a man that spoiled you and he always did it without you even having to ask. By no means were you a goldigger, Jack liked taking care of you. Who were you to say no? Your soon to be ex boyfriend Jamie couldn’t give less than a fuck about paying for you. He wasn’t a real man, you had told yourself one too many times. Jack changed your perception and made you understand that you wouldn’t settle for him.

“You think so?” You asked him. Your hands under the hem of your shirt.

“Come on, stop playing” His laughed echoed against the walls of the room again.

“I dont knowwww, you gonna be a good boy?” You felt yourself almost out of breath from how hard you were trying not to laugh. Talking to him this way always riled him up. You had never taken charge in the bedroom with him and you preferred in that way. He knew how to play his role just like you knew how to play yours.

“Man, you know just as much as I do that’s not how this shit works.”

“So then remind me how it works”

It didn’t take long for him to start tossing article of clothing everywhere. You could’ve sworn your panties had landed somewhere in the nightstand, because Jack wasted no time in starting to kiss you again. His hands roaming from your breasts giving them the attention he always gave them. Before moving on to your thighs that were always waiting for their time to shine. That was one of his favorite body parts of yours. They just did something to him that he couldn’t quite describe.

You felt his lips leave yours and soon enough they were traveling down to the valley of your breasts, to your stomach, down your hips, and opening your eyes you saw him down under the covers. Hands gently parting your thighs open to see a sight that he was always happy to set eyes on.

“How badly do you want it?” He asked you huskily. Your hands firmly placed on his hair, curled tickling your palms. He knew what he was doing to you, and you loved every second of it.

“Im here with you am I not?” You challenged, a quirk of your eyebrow and he raised his eyebrows like he was impressed.

“Hmm, I’ll take that answer” He chuckled softly. With ease he started to go down on you. You succumbed to his touch, his mouth. He lapped at your pussy with need. His tongue hitting all the right spots and his hands squeezing your breasts. No other man had made you feel the way Jack Harlow did. You weren’t sure you were willing to have it any other way either. Your clit was being flicked by his tongue, he knew all your spots and what go you going. It didn’t take long for him to learn.

“F-fuck” you whimpered. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his tongue worked quicker to ensure your orgasm. His left hand came down and he started to play with your clit with his thumb. Speeding up once he felt your thighs clench. Your legs shutting closed and he wasn’t complaining about the way he was buried in your arousal. The sweetest taste he ever had the pleasure of having.

“Ready for me to drop you off?” He asked you. Pulling away suddenly. He looked as if it was a regular day occurrence. Your orgasm was denied, snatched right from under you. You looked at him. With your jaw open and blinking at him as if he was crazy. All while he searched for his clothes. Moving away from you and picking up his boxers from the floor. Sliding them up and then searching for his pants.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You asked him. Your hands moving to sit yourself up. Leaning against the headboard of his bed. Your thighs felt like jello, and your core was still very much in need of some type of release that Jack simply was not going to give you.

“No? Im taking you back to your apartment, that’s what you wanted right?” Jack spoke with a smirk on his lips.

“What type of game is this?”

“A new one, it’s called ‘how far Can Jack push her before she’s begging for it again?’”

If this man wasn’t so attractive you would’ve killed him by now

///

“I love you ma, text me when you get inside. Okay?” Jack asked as you leaned up to press a kiss against his lips. He was parked a few parking spots down from where you apartment entrance was so Jamie would happen to peek outside and possibly see the two of you. You nodded your head. Your hand on the back of his neck as you brought him in for a another kiss. He always opened your door for you, always making sure you got in safely and even closed it for you. Which you weren’t really used to a guy caring that music about you. The year you and Jamie dated you could probably count on one hand how many times he opened the door for you.

“I will, love you too.” You smiled tightly at him. You really didn’t want to go inside. Not that you were scared of Jamie. But because he always made it a point to stay in your apartment because he felt he had the right to. He annoyed the fuck out of you most times. Not only was his mood always shifting but he was also almost always trying to gaslight you into thinking him cheating on you was crazy. Even when you literally had almost caught him in the bathroom of a club Jack performed at the first night you met him.

Jack held his hand out for you. You grabbed your overnight bag and let out a huff. “You’ll be back before you even know it” Jack told you, offering even the smallest bit of encouragement he could. As soon as he had pulled up to your neighborhood and waved at the security man. You were already counting down the days in which you would see him again.

“Three weeks, I’ve waited longer for other things.” You shrugged and felt your eyes get blurry from tears. He would be going on his Europe tour the next day and you wouldn’t see him for almost a month. Jack offered to fly you out so you could see him, you and PG had grown a bond in the three months you knew them. They loved having you around and they treated you like you were their little sister. They of course also knew about your situation with Jamie and didn’t say much about it. They even had offered to pop his tires for you if he got out of hand at any point. You were entirely grateful for Jack. He brought a new light in your dim life. Jamie had sure sucked the life out of you even without you knowing it.

“Exactly” Jack pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You immediately embraced him. Squeezing him a little too tight, but he want going to tell you that.

“I’ll FaceTime you everyday”

“You always go Jack”

“I’ll do it every second then”

You tearfully laughed. Letting go of him. “Okay, I love you so much”

“I love you too sweet girl. See you soon”

You nodded your head and wiped off the tears that stained your cheeks. Your heart beat speeding up just a little bit as you watched Jack get back in his car. He didn’t look too thrilled either. But his eyes locked yours and he pretended like he was okay. You made your way on the pavement, Jack keeping an eye on you and making sure you go into your building safely. Three months would be hell, but seeing you in the end would all be worth it.

A few minutes later you found yourself opening your apartment door with your key. The sound of tv playing, immediately your mood got even more sour.

You turned on your living room lights and jumped at the sight of Jamie. His phone in his hand and he was sitting in your love seat. He was relaxed and leaning back laughing at something stupid on the tv. YOUR tv. You just wanted to go lay down and sleep. One day closer to seeing Jack again.

“You scared the shit out of me” You said. With annoyance laced all over your voice. “I told you to stop coming in here when I’m not here, it scares me. Makes me think someone broke in. ” You dropped your keys on the coffee table. Placing your bag down and watching as he had helped himself to a drink from your kitchen. Ciroc, Jack’s favorite that you had stored there specifically for him. He didn’t drink but occasionally he would have some when he was over.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to come see my girlfriend” He spat at you. Rolling his eyes. You fought the urge to kick him in the balls and shove his stupid phone in his throat.

“Im not fighting with you today, I’m so tired and ready to take a shower” You mumbled at him. Pulling your phone quickly from your jean pocket and texting Jack to let him know you where home safe.

‘just got home, he’s here but I’m about to make him leave lol, lmk when you get babe ily 💓’

You sent it and turned off your screen. Grabbing your bag from the floor and making your way into your bedroom.

Jamie followed you. His drink clinking with the ice in his glass.

“How was your weekend with the girls?” Jamie asked you. As if he really cared. You pulled some drawers open after turning on your light. Finding a pair of soft cotton sorts and a t shirt to wear after your shower.

“It was good Jamie, are you almost on your way?”

“How’s Jack by the way?”

You paused. Shorts and shirt still in your hand. You turned around. Wondering if you had heard him correctly. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“How. Is. Jack?” Jamie smirked at you. Watching as your face turned pale.

“Don’t say his name”You muttered. Your cheeks heated up. The idiot had the audacity to laugh at you.

“What was that baby?”

“I said dont fucking say his name You stupid fuck!” You yelled back. “What kind of sick joke is this Jamie? You couldn’t have done this shit over text?!”

“No, seeing you knowing that you got caught sneaking around with some rapper makes my day just a little bit better. Huh? You thought I wasn’t going to catch on? Why your thighs are littered with bruises? Why we haven’t had sex in three months? You think I’m fucking stupid or something?” Jamie said to you, spewing his venom lace tirade at you.

He wanted to hit you where it hurt, but the fact that you didn’t care about him anymore made you laugh. He really thought you were going to sink to your knees and beg for his forgiveness? It was only a matter of time before you dumped him anyways.

“Yes, you are fucking stupid. You have to be the single most idiotic person I have ever met.” You gripped your clothes tightly. “You think I’m sad that you found out? You think I’m upset that this is ending?” You put your hand up when he started opening his mouth. “How do you feel knowing that ‘some rapper’ was fucking your girlfriend for three months? How do you feel Jamie, knowing that I was begging Jack to fuck me so hard that I forgot my own name?” You stepped closer to him. His face was red of embarrassment. Good.

“You’re a sorry excuse of a man, and I’m so happy this night ended the way it did. Now get the fuck out of my house before I get the apartment security on your ass you weird motherfucker” You smiled at him, and blew him a kiss. You watched with pure amusement and a full heart as he muttered cursed at you.

“You’re a fucking whore” He slammed your spare key on your vanity and a few minutes later you heard the door slam shut. At least he had some sense not to try anything stupid.

Realizing what this meant you reached for your phone again. Jack had already responded but you didn’t even bother to read it. Calling his phone as you sat on the bed. The biggest smile on your face your cheeks almost started to hurt.

“Everything okay ma?”

“You got room on that private jet for one more?” You laughed.

#jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow #jack harlow drabble #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x you #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x oc

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cyber-byte · 5 months

Text

Stay

Tomtord fanfic

The soft blue light bouncing off the even bluer walls and the soft sounds of a snoring Tom made me smile softly to myself. Why was I in Tom's room you ask? I didn't know the answer myself. I was so tired, my eyes could hardly keep themselves open, but for some reason I wasn't able too fall asleep. It's been like this for weeks. The guys were starting to catch on to my lack of sleep. I couldn't find a solution, until tonight. My feet carried me off by themselves, taking me to the room I hated most. The room that belonged to the man I despised.

Looking around I noticed how much of a slob this pathetic alcoholic was. There were empty bottles of smirnoff littered about the room and a few piles of dirty clothes scattered on the floor. There were clutter on top of all the surfaces. Most of it was dirty dishes and empty cans of cola he must've stolen from Edd with some empty bottles of smirnoff as well. In spite of the mess his room looked pleasing. Tom's bass was placed neatly in the corner on display and there were posters of bands strung up along the walls. Above Tom's bed was a checkered tapestry matching his checkered sheets. What was this man's obsession with black and white squares?

Finally my eyes were on Tom. He was sleeping on his side with the sheets only covering half his body. He was missing his shirt so his weirdly attractive dad bod peaked out from the covers. Without even thinking my body lugged itself over to the sleeping form of Tom. As I approached I noticed he was hugging something that looked oddly familiar. In the LED lighting it looked like a blue hoodie, but as I crept closer I noticed it was more red. Did he steal one my hoodies? But why would he... never mind I don't want to think about it.

Now that I was standing directly over him, Tom blinked his eyes open with a puzzled yet surprised stare. "Huh? Uhh the fuck do you want commie?" The drunk slurred his words, voice cracking from sleep. The sound sent a shiver down my spine.

I stopped debating my actions as soon as my feet carried me over to his bed. "Don't ask just move over." My voice muttered out. Tom glared in confusion which only earned a shoved from my hand on his face and climbed into his bed. With that Tom didn't say a word. Only groaned and turned around to face the wall.

The alcoholic had a oddly soft bed, cushioning me perfectly. His sheets were fluffy and swallowed me whole. Tom's body heat definitely helped make it comfier. I pressed spine to his while my eyes slowly fell. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep, but before I lost consciousness completely, I felt Tom flip over once more and wrap an arm around my waist.

That morning I was the first to wake. I was confused, not remembering where I was. Though it didn't take me long to figure it out. I felt strong arms holding me in place, along with a steady warm breath hitting the back of my neck. The sensation alone was enough to make every tiny hair on my body stand on end. The first thing I did was try to weasel my way out of Tom's tight grip on my body. Each wiggle and shift I made only caused the alcoholic to hold on tighter. I looked at the clock above Tom's door; 6:30 am. I knew I needed to leave before Tom woke up. As much as my heart lurched at the thought of leaving the warm bear hug, I knew Tom would not be happy waking up to me in his bed. Or that's what I thought until I heard this.

"Stay."

#eddsworld #tom eddsworld #ew tom #tom ew #eddsworld tord #tordtom #tord eddsworld #ew tord #tord #tomtord #fanfic #eddsworld fanfic

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btsgotjams27 · 2 years

Text

bad habits | pjm

summary: you go to jimin's one last time.

✨ title: bad habits | ✨ pairing: jimin x f!reader ✨ word count: 1.1k | ✨ rating: m/18+, minors dni ✨ genre/au: pwp, smut | idol!au, fuck buddies ✨ warnings: language, kissing, dirty talk(?), groping, breast play, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing ✨ a/n: i was inspired by the song bad habits but from a cover that i came across hehe. give it a listen! & happy birthday to my jiminie.

Bad habits led you to his place, his hands, his lips, his bed, and to mornings alone. But that was the deal. When Park Jimin, a member of BTS, calls, you answer.

It's been rinse and repeat for the last year or so, but you knew you couldn't keep living life like this. You'd constantly leave your friend hangouts without explanation and give some stupid excuse. You couldn't date someone even if you wanted to because being with Jimin was all-consuming.

PJM 1:30 AM

Need you.

You were already tucked in bed when your phone buzzed, the phone illuminating your face as you stared back at the two words teasing you.

It's been a while since he's texted you, and you figured he moved on to someone new, but you supposed with this text that maybe he hadn't.

You 1:32 AM Be there in 15.

You didn't want to text him back, but he needed to hear your truth. He needed to understand why you couldn't be his fuck buddy anymore.

When you arrived and knocked on his door, he immediately opened it, pulling you in, connecting his mouth to yours, giving you no time to breathe. "Jimin, we can't keep doing this," you whimper as he continues pressing open-mouth kisses on your jaw and down your neck.

He grinned as he briefly looked at you. "But you love it when I do this," referring to the kisses on your neck, which was your weakness. His hands began to untie the trench coat you were wrapped in.

You gripped his hand from continuing, but it wasn't long before he got his way. "This--Jimin--us," he elicits another moan from you when you feel his erection pressed against your stomach. "I always say one thing and do another, you know that." Again, another bad habit of yours, and you didn't want to be wishy-washy anymore. It was time to cleanse yourself of your sins - the biggest one being Park Jimin.

He smirked when he had full access to you, finding out that you had no clothing underneath your trench except for a matching set of black lingerie. He groaned at the sight, causing his strained cock to twitch under his black silk robe. "Like when you say you're a good girl, but you're begging for me to put my cock in that pretty little mouth? Doesn't sound like a good girl to me."

Fuck--you hated it, but he was right.

Jimin took both breasts in his hands, kneading and pinching your nipples. He slightly removed the black lace bra, just enough to lean down to take a nipple in his mouth. "I love it when you do the opposite of what you say, and it drives me fucking insane."

You groaned at the loss of his mouth. You would miss how he was shameless when it came to you, to sex, and to that mouth of his.

"Jimin..." you whimpered when he began trailing kisses down to your navel, lightly brushing above the elastic of your underwear. He hummed on his knees, continuing to the one thing he wanted. It was a bit embarrassing when his fingers parted your underwear - your arousal already sticking to it as he pulled it away. Jimin connected his mouth to your clit, causing you to moan. "Jimin...please," you pleaded, holding onto his soft cheeks, trying to pull him away from you. "Can we just focus on you tonight?"

He peered up, conceding with what you asked of him, and he wasn't going to deny if you were offering. Jimin stood, slightly towering over you, his hands caging you against the wall, waiting for your next move.

Untangling the tie holding his robe, he was clearly aroused. You glanced at him before palming and gently stroking him outside his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. His eyes never leaving yours. He loved watching you put his cock in your pretty little mouth, loved the way you swallowed him whole, loved the way tears would fall as you continued to push him further and further until he hit the back of your throat. But unfortunately for him, this would be the last time he'd get to see you like this.

Dropping to your knees, you peeled his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you. Your mouth was salivating, ready to take him in. God, it's been too long since you've had him in your mouth, and to be honest, you'd miss this. Holding the base of his cock with your right and gripping the back of his thigh with your left, you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, causing him to hiss.

"God-I missed your mouth so much."

You scoffed a little before sucking his tip fully, starting to bob up and down his length. He held his palm against the wall to keep himself up, his breathing ragged as you were focused on switching between sucking him off and stroking him. The saliva dripping down your mouth indicated that you were working overtime to hurry and end this as soon as possible.

"Fuck--baby, if you keep doing that. You're gonna make me come."

That was your intention, you thought. Your eyes flitted to his, "You don't wanna come?"

"I do, but I want that pussy first."

Well, that's not going to happen. You shook your head. "I'm focused on you tonight."

Jimin chuckled. "If you say so."

You licked the pre-cum leaking out from his tip, causing him to moan and speak curses along with your name. You could feel the hardness of his length in your hand as you continued to stroke him rapidly while hollowing your cheeks to get him hitting the back of your throat.

The muscles in his abdomen begin to tighten as he chases his climax, the throbbing of his cock going wild in your desperate attempt to make him blow his load. Deep grunts and lewd-sucking noises echoed throughout his apartment.

You knew Jimin was going come when he started playing with your hair - it was his favorite thing to do. His fingers gently stroked your scalp until it wasn't so gentle. The fire in his abdomen finally reached its peak as he released warm spurts of his cum into your mouth. He let out a few shaky breaths when you continued to milk him of everything he had.

Pulling away, you swallowed everything in your mouth, wiping away the saliva and dribbling of leftover cum. You rose to your feet from the ground, your knees reddened from the cold tile.

Jimin giggled, connecting his mouth to yours, tasting himself on you. "Damn, baby."

You didn't even acknowledge his comment. Instead, you said what you came here to say. "I met someone."

And that's when Jimin knew he couldn't let anyone else have you.

#jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin drabble #bts fanfic #bts fic #park jimin #jimin x you #bts smut #bts x you #jimin x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x reader

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allkordelia · 1 year

Text

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (33)

"Fucking bastards. How dare them." I hiss slamming the door to my old chamber open as I walk in, I start to pace the room.

"The nerve of them to blame me for this, as if I was the one who animate the rebellion. I..." I point at myself as I face meleah who was watching on the bed, " did nothing but try to restore my name and give a home to my children, and yet this is my fault." I let out a bitter chuckle, foolish old man, those bastards, those...argh.

I grabbed the pitcher from the table and threw it against the wall above the fireplace before it fell to the floor, I grind my teeth as I stare at the empty space that use to have a painting there long ago before I threw it away.

"...my queen, what is going on," I snap my head around to look at meleah as she stare at me worried, "What are you talking about? What happened in the chamber–"

"Those bastards is incompetent that is what, they are blaming me for the rebellion that iron islands are starting because I am queen."

"What do you being queen have to do with the rebellion," I rub my temple as I stand still.

"Apparently, now the last old king of westeros is gone, lords are wondering if I will bend the knee to viserys. Which I will never do not even if he held a sword to my neck," I spit angrily, "So, now a rebellion is starting in the iron islands saying they want to be kings again, and the one whose trying to act like a king and viserys thinks the other houses will follow." I sigh putting my face in my hands, this all so tiring and stupid, I can easily stomp out this little rebellion easily with my dragon but no that will only make it worse they said.

"What do they want you to do? Do they want you to bend the knee?" Meleah ask, I drag my hands down my face and look at her.

"They gave me options." Meleah raise a brow.

"Options?" I nodded before looking down, this wasnt fair, I don't understand what I did to deserve to be put in this hell.

"They said I can either give up my crown to Aeron or bend the knee to house targaryen and become lady of the serpent islands."

"But if you don't." I look up at her with a small frown.

"Than, they will go back on our deal and isolate us from westeros, which mean we will have to go back to exporting our goods through Dorne and Esso." The idea of that might sound good but it isn't, many of the things we grow and make is from essos.

To westeros our goods are the finest things they ever eaten and worn, while in essos they are nothing more than sand to them. It will put us in ruins and dorne won't be enough for us from going penniless, it's hard to say but we need the seven kingdoms to strive.

"What are you going to do." I sigh walk over to the bed and flopping down next to meleah, my back hit the bed as I look up at the familiar patterns I grown to count and look when I was bored.

"I never wanted to be queen," I said looking to meleah as she stayed sit up watching me, "All I wanted was for my daughter not to end up like me, broken and hollow, nothing to her name but the men that surrounded her." I shook my head as I could feel the burning sensation behind my eyes, I covered my eyes with the palm of my hand to keep the tears from falling.

"I would have been happy as a lord's wife, no matter how they treated me, if they ask for heirs I would have given them all until it killed me, if it meant my daughter didn't have to do it." I sniff rubbing my nose with the sleeve off my tunic, "I never ask for this...I didn't ask to be queen, or to rule a kingdom or be the reason a rebellion is started. I just wanted to my life in peace away from viserys."

A soft knock came from the door making me and meleah look at it, meleah at me as I look back at her before she turn her head and got up. I use my elbows to lift me up to see who was at the door, when i saw it was a servant I drop down and went back to looking at the patterns of the sheet that cover my old bed, the door was shut a second later before the bed dip. I look at meleah to find her looking at me as she hold up a message.

"Daemon and Caraxes were seen flying over the city, the king wishes for our presents to welcome him back." She said before tossing the message, I sigh closing my eyes, I wish I can wake up and be back where I was when I was a little girl. In my bed back at Driftmark waiting for my mother to come get me for my flying lessons. What I would give to be that senseless and innocent little girl again, and not this shell of a woman who had to grow up so fast and be maneuver around like some puppet on the strings.

What am I going to do? Is my reign as queen over, I mull over that thought, Am I ready to give up the crown and title.

"Should we get going, my queen?"

I mean the thought of giving up the title as queen didn't really pain me bit the thought of having to bend in front of viserys and surrender to him is what irks me the most.

"Rhaelle."

I don't care about being queen, I will still be lady of the isles and it's not going to be a big adjustment for me.

"Rhaelle?"

But, I don't want it to seem like I gave up and make viserys and otto feel like they won, no I want ro make them think that they did, they like to play their games with me. I can easily do the same, I still have a few things up my sleeve and they will see.

"Rhaelle." Meleah voice snap me back to reality making me blink multiple times before looking over at meleah to see her lean over looking at me.

"What." She furrow her brows and tilt her head to the side.

"I said should we get going," I frown a little before shaking my head and move to sit up making meleah to lean back, "Do you want to leave?" She ask making me look at her with before saying no.

"...I have made my decision," I said getting up and walking over to the chest near the wardrobe.

"And?" She ask behind me as I shift through my gown trying to find a gown to wear.

"I have decided..." I trailed off as I push aside the other gowns to get to the one that I needed.

"You have decided." Meleah repeats edgy me to go on making me sit up with the gown I was looking for before going back to the bed.

"That I will step down as queen and give my crown to my son, if..." I stop as I admire the gown before putting it neatly on the bed for me to consider, as I look at it my stomach starts to turn and luckily not for the worse reason.

"Do you think they have pomegranates here?" I ask moving my hand to my stomach before rubbing it, meleah glance at me before she stood.

"I'll can call a servant and ask." I smile.

"Please, do I am famish." I move to go back to my chest to pull out matching shoes and them back to the bed.

As meleah pull the string for the servant, I started to undress with my back to her. I start at my boots tossing them to the side before going to unbuckle my belt and shimmy my trousers off before discarding them on the couch leaving me in my undergarment, i turn my head to see meleah talk to the maid in the threshold of the door making me turnnback around and look down as I start unbutton the tight corset vest, I sigh in bliss finally getting the tightness of the corset off my stomach and breast.

"Meleah, can you help me get my gown on," I say turning to face the woman.

"Of course, my queen." I watch her turn around before stopping making me give her a raise brow in question, she recover whatever shock or stunness she wss experiencing before making her way towards me with a look of bewilderment in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" I ask looking st her warily, she look at me confused making me narrow my eyes at her, "Meleah? Are you okay." I ask again making her brow twitch before nodding her head.

"Yes, my queen. I am okay, " I hummed watching her as she move to get the dress off the bed, "Are you okay?" She ask as she glance at the dress and me.

"Yes, I'm fine." I said looking at her unsure, why was she asking me I was okay she was the one who looked like she saw a ghost.

"Good. Thats good." She mumble.

I raise my brow at her as she held the dress against her arm, I used her shoulder to balance myself as I step through into the dress. I frown a bit when meleah start to pull on the strings to tighten it.

"Can you not tighten it so much," I ask softly, "...it's making my breast and stomach ache." I heard meleah let out a sound before feeling the fabric loosen a bit.

"All done, my queen." I step away from her and when to the mirror, soon meleah was right beside me looking at me through the mirror. I nod my head as I turn left and right inspecting it.

"How do you feel. Is it to your liking, my queen." Meleah ask, I stare at myself for a second before nodded.

"It's uncomfortable as hell, but it will do." I ran my hand down the front of the gown with purse lips, it makes my breast look swollen and my arms look a bit chubby.

"Does this thing make me look fat." I look at meleah to see her gape at me.

"W-what, n-no. You look fine, my queen." I clench my jaw as I stare at the mirror, shes lying you do look fat, I sigh and bow my head in annoyance before lifting it.

"It's fine. Let's see if we can use my hair to take attention off my body," I sigh sadly moving over to the table with the mirror to take a seat, as I started to play with my hair I have yet see meleah in the mirror in front of me.

I called her name waiting for her to come as I try to run my hand through my hair to get the tangles out, I finally saw meleah and pinch my brows together at her timid look. I ask if she was alright and she nodded her hair with purse look, I made a face before trying to figure out what I can do with my hair.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @avidreader73 @green-lxght @spderm4nnnn @supermassiveblackhope @watercolorskyy @stargaryenx

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon targaryen x black!reader #blackoc #black reader #x black reader #black oc #black!reader #hotd imagine #hotd oc #hotd fanfic

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serene-sun · 1 year

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I’m leaving what I just found in my notes from a few days ago, uhhh have fun? Obviously a WIP I will never finish

18+

A nameless Ghouls diary insert, 2/8/23

How it feels to eat out a sister of sin, from a ghouls personal experience.

Oh it’s magical, intoxicating. And I say that in all truth. It’s the way her skin tastes. No, her liquid thoughts. Actually, her arousal. But what’s the difference? Her energy basically leaks out of her pores. And she is far too distracted to understand anything, so it’s so very real.

First, I’ll meet her at her door. I’ll knock, softly so she knows it’s me. And then, when she lets me in, I’ll run her up against the wall. I know she likes it, the way he instantly goes limp to the feelings of my claws digging into her habit. I’ll rub my body into hers, grinding myself into her thighs, right where she craves most. Oh god the way she moans, I’ll kiss her. Is kiss a good word for it? More like chew on her lips and play with her tongue. And oh satan, help me, the trail of saliva from her lips to my fangs is enough to push me over the edge. But she knows this, she knows that the way she fixes her habit to ride up her ass makes me lose myself. Maybe just a little drop of blood from going over board. Words can’t explain how much I love the way her breasts bounce a little when I pin her hands above her on the wall. I’ll ask for her permission to destroy her need for touch.

Needless to say the moment she nods I’m pushing her onto the fluffy bed and ripping her habit off. I’ll cover her mouth, I can’t let the other ghouls know I am in possession of such an angel.

Fuck! She’s even prettier than I thought.

She knew I would need her today, why else would she be wearing my favorite lingerie of hers? Oh god, black lace does her right.

I can’t stop.

I can’t stop the way I’m rutting into her. I think I have lost all dignity, like a dog in heat I can’t stop rubbing into her.

Oh, oh no. What will happen when all of this lace is off? Will her nipples perk up? Will she be flustered?

There’s only one way to find out.

Taking my hands, running them up and down her curves, I take her last bits of clothes off.

I step back, unable to except that a flower, as delicate and kind as this sister is lying before me naked. She wants this? Really?!

My goodness, they are so…so…

Fuck!

I can’t do this, it’s far too great of a power.

“Please, lock the door.” She asks, so kindly and sweet.

No.

It’s simple, I don’t lock the door, needless to say it’s still cracked. The light from the lit hallways shining a thin streak of gold across her tangled nude form.

No, no I want them to hear.

I want them to see.

This angel, this angel deserves a portrait, no a statute, no a carving of this beautiful sight into walls of the porcelain walls in the worship room.

I can’t wait any longer, I know she needs me.

I wonder,

I wonder how she feels, he watchful gaze is hauntingly beautiful.

I’ve been told that my eyes alone touch her, my words caressing her curves and slowly…slowly…slowly reaching up to her neck, squeezing slightly. My veiny hands will snake inbetween her wet silky folds and rub her gently, sliding my fingers up and down while playing with her Clit with my thumb. Her arousal dripping down her pussy, so gorgeous how it glistens in the hallway light. I’ll slide my mask off, revealing my face to her. And when she is done examining it, she takes a fist full of my hair, and pushed my face into her cunt, wriggling her hips around in need. And I am glad enough to devour her sweet pussy. I’m happy to oblige to her sinful needs. I’ll lap my tongue

#serene sun writes #the band ghost smut #the band ghost x reader #the nameless ghouls x reader #the nameless ghouls x reader smut

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youretoosweetforme · 10 months

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21 is not enough (it’s 1:39am and I’m alone)

Is it too much to ask?

1 She lays on top of me like a weighted blanket. We had put a movie on. Neither of us will watch it. 2 I run my fingers through her hair and let my knuckles catch on the tangles. 3 We stand outside in the rain and dance. I let her push me down to the pavement. We are happy. 4 It’s three in the morning and she wants to bake. I sit on the counter and dust her nose with flour. 5 The sun rises. The curtains did not get closed. Neither of us move. 6 It’s autumn and the leaves are turning. Each colour is mirrored in the way the sunlight dances through her hair. 7 We are on a roof, looking up at the stars. Each one looks like her. 8 She grins at me. She looks like warm honey and cinnamon. 9 I lay my head on her stomach, and listen. Each sound reminds me that we are alive. 10 We are standing in the street, lit by neon and street lamps. It is dark. The light reflects off the snow on the ground like a kaleidoscope, and shines in her eyes. I cannot help myself. 11 We are in a grocery store. She asks me to push her in the cart. I do. 12 She hands me a sticky note covered in doodles. I fold it up and put it in my wallet. It never leaves. 13 She stands in the sea, waves to her knees, letting it soak through her jeans. I snap a picture. The one in my mind lasts longer. 14 I am barely awake enough to stand. She wraps her arm around my waist, and takes me inside. 15 I look at the hundreds of photos I could hang on the wall above the bed. I try to fit as many as possible. There could never be enough room. 16 A crack of thunder, and the power goes out. She has plenty of candles. 17 I don’t know where we are. I don’t know what time it is. We are in the back seat of a car, her head is on my chest, and the music is still playing. I don’t want to leave. 18 There are a million words we’ll never tell another soul. 19 We sit in silence, listening to the other breathe. We do not move. The sun sets, and rises again. 20 We are on a boat, in the middle of a lake. We can see the stars; she is soaked in moonlight. I take another picture. I can’t take my eyes off her. The picture comes out blurry. 21 The little things mean so much.

Is it too much to ask?

#kinda hate the title but I can’t think of anything else #if someone has suggestions please tell me #also don’t know how I feel about this. it’s kinda saying a lot #this is a product of me being sleep deprived and gay and really emotionally repressed #I tried to keep it non-specific but. idk #she’s really special to me #god I need sleep #don’t look at me #mack writes poetry #poetry #sapphic poetry #<33

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smurphyse · 1 year

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The Avocado I Didn't Have | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, depictions of gore, monster fights, descriptions of blood, overuse of 80s song lyrics

Summary: Because your friends won't let you have just one day to yourself, you venture out into the Darkness only to find Edward Munson bleeding out

Sunlight filters in through the windows, a soft breeze billowing the curtains, making them dance along with the wind. The chimes on the porch tinkle while the suncatchers spread colors along the walls. Warmth from the morning sun washes over my legs as I swing them off the bed and stretch out the stiffness in my shoulders.

Reaching high and rolling my neck, I intertwine my fingers and let out a little groan. Recently I've been sleeping like shit, and last night wasn’t any better. Dreams of the Darkness and the lab haunted me through fitful tossing and turning along the sheets. They used to happen every night, sometimes during the day, but they had become fewer and further between. This uptick in nightmares rocks me to the core every time they decide to rear their ugly head.

I let my arms down slowly, feeling a bit better and loose. The hardwood is warm from the sun streams under my bare feet as I make my way to the kitchen. I mutter my usual hellos to my army of houseplants I have scattered around the cabin, and I'm rewarded with their bright happy flora and leaves trailing about. The pothos enjoy their spots up on the bookshelves I’ve got lining the walls while the succulents bask in the warmth on the windowsill.

It’s just one big room -open kitchen with a window facing the front yard that hides my cabin with its array of trees in the dense forest, rugs along the hardwood and crappy armchairs I’ve found over the years sit in front of the fireplace- but it’s home. I found this cabin in the secluded off-the-trails area of Hawkins some years ago and fixed it up the best I could. It took a lot of learning and reading, but luckily I have a little telekinesis that comes in handy when it comes to lifting heavy things and turning tight bolts into wood.

I push aside a few errant vines I keep forgetting to trail along the nails I’ve put in the beams, but once again decide I’m not going to worry about it today. Pulling the coffee pot from the carafe, I slide it between the greenery and fill it with water. Where I am, the water is infected where it’s not dried out, so I bring in water jugs and fill it in the reservoir I’ve set up out back behind the cabin. Another reminder I’ve made my life harder than it needs to be.

But this is safer. There’s safety in seclusion.

"Hey… Hey… What’s the matter with your head, yeah," Redbone croons through the speakers as I putter around in an old flannel and underwear. “Hey… hey… what's the matter with your mind and your sign and oh.”

My sleeve rolls up as I pour the water into the coffee maker, and even all these years later my eyes go straight for the tattoo on my wrist. 000 stands out like a brand. I suppose that’s exactly what it is. I’ve thought about covering it almost every day since escaping Papa and his military goons, but I’ve never been able to make myself get new ink. One, it would require going to a more populated area and showing an ID that I don’t have to prove I’m above the age of eighteen. Two, it’s a part of me.

A painful soul wrenching part that will never leave. Covering the ink won’t fix me no matter how much I wish it would.

You have to know, daughter, Papa’s voice echoes from those deep caverns of memory, always at the worst times. I do these things because I love you. You’re capable of greatness, and we need to bring it to the light. Do you understand?

“Do you understand?” I mock to the empty room, making a face and scoffing. I slap the carafe into the pot and let it percolate, then head outside to check my garden.

In the mood for something yummy after such a shit night, I wander through the thick grass and enjoy the sun on my skin as I make my way over. The garden’s expansive, full of more food than I’ll ever realistically eat on my own, but it doesn’t matter. What I don’t use I take down to Stoney Hightower at the Farmer’s Market in Greencastle, the next town over from Hawkins, and he gives me enough for my troubles and my out-of-season fresh strawberries.

I have everything, from tomatoes to potatoes, from bananas to avocados. The half acre of vegetation is spattered with high stalks and fruit trees, plumed with green bean sprouts and cabbages. My powers had been honed long ago, the initial telekinesis I showed as an infant growing until it included element manipulation.

When I finally learned it was all chemistry, simple mathematics and formulas taught by my father, it all made more sense. Papa wanted to turn me into a weapon. All I’d ever wanted to do was create. He wanted me to destroy, and when I refused I was punished.

Eleven years after escaping him and Hawkins’ lab, I hadn’t gone far. I retreated to the Darkness and inside created my safe space. At twenty six I’ve been alone almost half my life, and I like it that way… but it gets lonely here sometimes.

I pluck a few avocados from a tree, eyeing the Darkness at the edge of my property. The red and purple clouds seem to breathe on their own as they wage their constant war to entreat on my home, only giving way to the sunshine dome around me. I’ve kept myself hidden in this little enclave, masking the area so only I can enter. It’s hard some days to keep up the shield around it, to make sure Henry can’t enter, but so far he hasn’t stepped foot inside.

I can see the creatures circling in the distant crackling sky, and I cock my head as I wonder what food they’ve found in the desolate Dark. Deciding I don’t want to know, I turn on my heel only to come face to face with one of the creatures themselves.

Shrieking like a scared rabbit, I fall hard on my ass and scramble away until my back hits the avocado tree. My precious fruits bounce away and my fucked up brain grieves the avocado I didn’t have before dying. Chest heaving, I blink through the harsh sunlight as its shadow covers me and it’s twitching head cocks to the side.

The head is a giant bird skull with no visible eyes and thin skin, with leathery wings and sharp claws. It’s the size of two grown vultures, massive and imposing. It lets out a little brrup and hops toward me, so I reach out to pet its beak.

“Screech! You scared the shit outta me!” I huff, letting out a relieved chuckle. Screech pats his foot in bliss as my heart rate slows to normal, humming happily and nuzzling his bony chin further into my hand.

I push him away and get to my feet, ignoring Screech’s little groan of disappointment and the insistent fluttering of his wings. He’s always so needy. I put my hands on my hips and cock a brow at him, “Where’s Clem?”

The creature shrugs and looks away, not wanting to give his cuddles to his sister. I hook one finger under his beak and pull at him until he faces me. Though he’s at least twice my height, he knows I’m in charge and after a few tugs he relents.

“Where’s Clem, Screech?”

A small gurgling bark from behind makes my eyes go wide, and I turn just in time for Clem herself to barrel into my chest. I hit the ground harder than the first time, sliding through the grass as she nuzzles into me and licks every inch of skin she can reach. Laughing madly, I pat her leathery skin, the tickling feeling of her flower-bud mouth tingling all over.

I finally manage to roll out from under her and get to my feet, holding out my hands playfully. She wags her tail, her bulky body coiled to pounce on me once more. The size of a small horse, Clem acts like a dog. Just like Screech, she has no eyes, just that flower-shaped mouth that spreads wide when she opens it.

“What are you two up to today?” I ask suspiciously. “Dinner isn’t until six. You guys know that.”

They exchange a look as well as they can with no eyeballs, but it’s clear enough. Just as I’m about to demand an answer, Screech hangs his head and points one bony wing to where the creatures circle the sky.

Something is out there.

“Well, shit.”

I kick aside the avocado I didn’t have before dying, resenting it more than grieving it now. Stomping back to the cabin, I wave my hands as Screech and Clem follow me closely up the hill.

“I fully intended to have a me day, y’know? I was gonna have a bath, a glass of wine,” I call to them as I bang around in my room. I pull on a pair of jeans and heavy boots for the coolness, snag a jacket off the back of the door. “And you two show up and now I have to go into the Dark.”

Clambering into the kitchen, I glare at them through the porch window. I pour fresh coffee into a thermos as they watch me, letting out little chirrups of embarrassment while they wait patiently. I huff and squint at them, “This isn’t something you can handle by yourselves?”

Clem and Screech shake their heads, so I let out a dramatic groan and head for the gun closet. I’ve collected a handful of useful weapons over the years, made a few myself, but I instinctively reach for the pistol holster and their respective pieces. I grab the shotgun and loop the strap over my shoulders before closing it and snatching my thermos off the counter.

Kicking the door open, I step onto the porch. It creaks with my weight, slight as it is. I’ve been meaning to replace the slats but that would mean going into the real world and I haven’t been up for it lately with all the nightmares. I frown at my two little monsters as I pull my long curls into a ponytail.

“This better be good, guys.”

I head off the porch to the side of the cabin, hopping into the ‘84 robin’s egg blue Jeep that lay nestled between the trees. I’d… procured it some years ago and brought it through a gate I’ve since closed. I keep it in tiptop condition, proud of my car that nobody gets to see with its registration that once belonged to someone named Haley Goddard. Poor Haley. I’m certainly never going to give it back.

I’ve found myself capable of a lot of things since leaving the lab when at first I was like a scared puppy in the rain, unsure and terrified. I find books in bargain bins and when I have enough money I buy better ones on everything from mechanics to architecture to horticulture. Learning’s in my DNA thanks to Papa, so I enjoy it even though the thought of him makes my skin crawl.

Clem and Screech lead me through the trail of trees to the edges of my property, which I affectionately call The Haven. We venture into the Darkness, the sunshiney dome of the Haven shifting quickly to the deep purple storms. While I have reception in the Haven, it’s spotty at best in the Darkness, so I pop in a mix-tape I found at the record store to let some semblance of my morning routine happen while I sip my coffee from the thermos.

“If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me,” ABBA comes through on the speakers, a little crackly, but I don’t mind. I pull a face and decide to roll with it, swaying in time with the music as I enter a storm.

The rolling clouds surround us as we drive around the vines, creatures swarming the Jeep but they know to leave us be. I’ve killed enough of them that they avoid me and my bright blue car. I only really have to deal with them now if I get in their way.

I drive through the Dark Hawkins, following Screech and Clem through winding roads in the boonies until we reach the trailer park. Once, before the Darkness took over this place, the buildings were pristine, beautiful. Better looking than they were in the real world. Now, the vines and monsters have taken over and encircle everything with a flurry of dust and violence.

It’s a shame. This world was my safe place once. The entirety of it mimicked the Haven, not just my little property. Henry and I spent hours exploring and mapping all of it, playing with the creatures before they all turned to blood and death. Before Henry’s own demons followed and destroyed everything.

“'Cause you know I've got so much that I wanna do. When I dream I'm alone with you,” I sing along as we go deeper into the Darkness. Clem and Screech lead me through the haze of those flying ratbat fuckers that Henry created, about five miles from the Haven. “It’s magic.”

A group of them were crouched around something, pulling and biting as I hop out of the Jeep. Deciding it might be best to make a quick getaway, I leave the door open as my feet hit the ground, careful to avoid the vines. I don’t want Henry to know I’m here.

The music plays as I approach, tiptoeing around the tendrils embedded in the dirt as Huey Lewis & The News echoes around the Dark, “I was walkin’ down a one-way street, just a-lookin’ for someone to meet…”

I swat away the swarm, poking at them with the butt of the shotgun. One of them turns and hisses at me, swinging out a clawed hand. I smash the gun on its head and kick another, and soon enough they back off, skirring as they slink away.

“Now I'm hopin' (hopin') that the feeling is right, and I'm wonderin' (wonderin') if you'll stay for the night…”

Clem and Screech push them further away as I inspect their prey. My lip curls into a disgusted snarl as I approach, eyeing the splattered blood and hardly recognizable jeans. An electric guitar hangs limply in one of the person’s hands, the strings snapped and the body cracked.

They must have made their way through to the real world and dragged some poor bastard inside.

Skin and bone sticks up from leather and cotton fabric, shredded and glistening far too brightly in this dimmed and darkened place. While Clem and Screech keep the creatures at bay, I kneel beside the body and reach to the blood-covered face of this person. I press the back of my hand to their cheek. It’s sticky with drying blood but still warm.

I let my fingers trail down the mess of broken bones and snagged skin, wrapping my hand around the wrist and feeling for a pulse.

"If you believe it, take my hand, and I'll take your heart…”

I can faintly feel something, but it’s hard to tell like this. I set the gnarled hand down and press my fingers to the throat. Matted hair and sweat lines the person’s skin, and I have to peel some thick curling strands away. It’s fading…. But I can feel it.

This person is alive.

Making sure Clem and Screech are holding their own, shrieking and clawing at the flying ratbats, I push away some hair from their head to get a better look at them. I inspect them as I cup their face gently in my hands. Taking a deep breath, I let myself relax for what I’m about to do.

Any medical combat situation starts with this question, Zero, Colonel Sullivan’s voice comes from the back of my mind, How do I stop the bleeding?

I suck in air through my nose as I focus, letting my friends protect me while I help this person. Platelets stick together around wounds to stop the bleeding. They need help though. Protein binds with platelets to form a fibrin clot.

I need to form a fibrin clot.

I’ve done this enough times on myself but this person is bleeding badly. Barely able to fathom how they’re still alive, I hope they were at least unconscious for the creatures eating into their belly.

Picturing the blood vessels shrinking to slow the blood flow, the energy in the body kickstarts to healing with my help. As they constrict, I hum to focus. The platelets move to cover the injuries, the brain activating to begin coagulation. Sticky blood pools beneath my knees as I work, and my nose begins to drip with the effort.

Guiding protein to the platelets, I let the body begin the process and let go, doing my best to ignore the copper scent of blood as I wipe it away from my upper lip. There will be a lot of work for me to do on them, but for now this will last until we get back to the Haven. Pulling a handkerchief from my back pocket, I spit on one corner and begin to wipe away the blood and dirt.

For a moment I think they might be a woman, they’re so pretty. Soft rounded cheekbones give way to full lips, but the Adam’s apple on his throat tells me he’s a man. He’s young, probably my age, and much too gentle looking to be in a place like this.

Patting him down as the creatures hiss around me for taking their food, I feel until I find the thin lining of a wallet in his back pocket. I dig it out and flip it open, reading the name on the license in the little window.

Edward Wayne Munson, DOB 10/31/1965.

There’s a few other interesting things in his pockets, such as one of those twenty-sided dice nerds like to use in their games. I’d read about D&D, but seeing as I have no friends I’ve never played. A slip of paper folded up in one reads, Corroded Coffin, tonight only! with a picture of a curly-haired guitarist on stage with his band. I also find a joint in his jacket pocket, pre-rolled and in good condition, and I chuckle as I stuff it into my jacket along with his other things for safe keeping.

“Do you believe in love? Do you believe it's true?” Huey Lewis sings from the car as I zip his jacket to keep his organs inside during the drive. The last thing I need is to clean guts from the upholstery.

I loop the shotgun and guitar over my back with the straps, then lean over and grab Edward Munson under the armpits and drag him back to the car. I try to avoid the vines, but as I pull him along, Edward gasps and jerks one of his arms from my grasp.

“Fuck,” I hiss as I scramble to hold onto him. “Stay still!”

He struggles anyways, panic and pain likely taking over despite his weakness and the damage to his body. I grip his hair tightly at the crown, pull his head back to look at me. I find myself gazing into bright brown eyes that are full of terror and glistening with tears.

“I’m going to help you,” I say sternly. “Let me help you.”

Edward lets out a breath of relief, and I let his head drop back down. But then he spots Screech, Clem, and the ratbats. His legs kick out in a panic. Right into one of the vines.

“Well… shit.”

Lightning flashes across the sky with a thunderous crack! The clouds turn red, pulsing in the dark and rolling straight toward us, and I drop him in my fear. He hits the ground hard, but I pull him up again in a flash, a mad dash of panic to get the hell back to safety.

Screech jumps back from the swarm, snapping his beak at the ratbats. He snarls as Clem takes pleasure in biting the heads off any that she can reach. I drag Edward to the Jeep, yelling and cursing even though I’m sure he’s unconscious again.

“You stupid fuck!” I scream as I pull him under the open door. More of the swarm appears, and one tugs at my ponytail, dragging me back until I fall on my ass on the cold ground.

My hand flashes back to grip it at the base. Tears spring to my eyes as it jerks my head back and forth. The wings flap loudly, only the roaring of the rising wind audible over it. Letting out a screech, I manage to pull one of the pistols from my holster and point it behind my head.

The pop is deafening, a dull ringing bursting across my eardrum as the wind howls in my other. The creature yelps as the bullet hits meat, releasing me and flopping across the ground in pain. I scramble to my feet, holding my hand out as I force the ground to raise Edward to the level of the Jeep seats. Quickly rounding the car, I jump into the passenger side and pull him in, then lean the seat back as far as it will go and shove him down on it.

Pulling the passenger door closed, I climb over him to the driver’s side, slamming it shut. Throwing the car in reverse, I back up enough to give Clem and Screech room to defend us, then slap it in drive and tear off toward the Haven.

The sky booms with lights and electricity. The storms burst from the area of town where the old Creel house is, where Henry hides, and my jaw drops as it heads straight toward my little car. Fear bursts through my veins at the thought of him catching me. I stomp down on the gas, the Jeep rattling and bouncing over each bump and vine I’d taken care to avoid on the way here.

Edward groans, struggling to sit up with every bounce of the shocks on the crappy road. His voice slurs, deep and husky as he asks, “What the fuck it going on?”

“Shut up, dipshit!”

He looks my way with bleary eyes. Still bleeding, still damaged, likely beyond repair. I’m not sure I’ll be able to save him, and all I can think about is that damned avocado I should have had before venturing out into a waking nightmare. He nods and goes limp, and I curse to nobody, “Great! Just great! I just wanted to have one nice day!”

I spot Clem and Screech in the rearview mirror, just as fast as the ratbats though they are much bigger. The speedometer hits 80 mph before I reach the borders of the Haven, winding through trees and the trails. I don’t slow until I see Clem and Screech follow me inside.

The creatures hiss outside as they approach the sunlit patch of land, coming up short and snarling at me from a distance. Even though I know they won’t, I sigh a breath of relief that they don’t follow us inside.

By the time I park next to the cabin, my body turns to jelly. My fingers and hands shake as I peel them from the steering wheel. Looking over to the man slumped over in my passenger seat, I shake my head.

“You better be worth it, Munson.”

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: Okay, I've been working on this for a while... I need to know what you think of Zero and if you like her/the story so far. I'm really excited for this story and I want you guys to like it! <3

Also, the faceclaim for Zero is Adria Arjona because I think she looks similar to me even though I'm Siksika and she's Latina. We share very similar features ngl Zero is a projection of parts of myself

Stranger Things Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23

#Zero to Hero #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #smurph writes #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #Eddie Munson/OC #ocapp #ocappreciation #ocfairygodmother #eddie munson imagine

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