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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), spanking, fingering, PinV, choking, brat taming, slight bit of name calling (slightly dubious to have sex with someone after rescuing them from a kidnapping but we'll ignore that)

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a prolific genral who's been kidnapped while she was trying to party it up with her friends. Ghost and Soap are recruited to rescue her, and soon find out that reader's attitude might be more of a challenge than the gang they're trying to rescue her from.

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die.

Not because your family didn’t have the money, not because there weren’t enough resources to save you, or even because of your own natural pessimistic tendencies. No. You were sure you were going to die because your father had made it abundantly clear long ago that you didn’t matter to him.

You weren’t a man. You couldn't carry his title on and you’d grown up learning that that was mostly all he cared for. His legacy. It was one of the few things that cold man spoke of fondly, always lighting up at the mention of your brothers but never you. And as a result you’d grown up living for even the smallest chance at spiting him for it. You partied and drank and slept around with boys that made even your friends curl their lips at you sometimes.

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang.

It was enough to leave you disoriented, you weren't taking in much. Not that there was much to take note of. Your eyes were shoddily covered over with a scrap of harsh, scratchy cloth and you could only see little slivers of things here and there. Your hands were duct taped to the arms of an office chair and your mouth was similarly covered so as to prevent anymore screams and curses.

You watched sets of boots as they echoed around the frigid room, and saw gun barrels and machetes, men roving across a scuffed up concrete floor. You didn’t catch anything that made you want to see more. Especially when you heard the taunts they slung at you in their thick accents.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

If the blindfold came off then that would only mean one thing. They were going to make good on the salacious threats they were now casually slinging your way. The fantasies they were now trading back and forth as they returned to speaking their own language. That was a small mercy at least. Not having to hear about how the last few moments of your life would go.

You could feel your body shaking like an addict in withdrawal and your poor heart was leaping around in your chest like a caught frog. It didn’t help that you were riling yourself up either, imagining what the newspapers would say. Flashing up in your mind like something out of an old batman episode with a blaring brass section accompanying them.

Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

You couldn't even be sure if you were still in Mexico. For all you knew you were in all those other countries that you’d been too busy crafting a reputation to learn about in school. What were they again? Guatemala, Cuba? You were sure those were somewhere close by. Funny the things the mind distracts itself with when you’re stuck tightly in a chair surrounded by leering wolves.

If only you hadn’t been drawn in by that tattooed man with the big arms. If only you’d been a good girl and enjoyed your holiday and stuck close to your friends instead of going out on the hunt for attention from bad men covered in tattoos and cologne that smelt like bad decisions. You could practically hear your father’s growly voice echoing through your mind.

Stupid little girl.

He’d been saying that for as long as you had memories of him. He’d be satisfied now, you lamented. You’d proved him right in the end, he’d always said your lifestyle would catch up with you and you’d be wishing that you’d just behaved for once sooner or later.

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so.

- 👑-

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours, but as your breathing grew more ragged behind the tape you knew you were experiencing the last few precious moments you had left.

The men were sounding more and more pissed off as they rattled off curses to each other, filling the room with sharp hisses. They weren’t getting the results they wanted. They’d even removed the tape at some point and had you screaming out for a video, but apparently that wasn’t getting them anywhere either. They got tired with your cries and slapped an even thicker strip back in place.

You were starting to cry, feeling the stiff cloth go damp against your skin and irritating it further. It was so thick and itchy over your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to pull it off. You needed to see, needed to breathe. You were panicking. You needed out, you needed air, you needed to feel safe again.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

You were chanting it in your mind, it rang through your head like a death toll. It seemed like those would be your last thoughts. You’d die panicking and snotty and covered in dried salty tears that mixed into a sludge with your thick mascara.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the-

Thiew.

Crack.

Thud.

Every muscle in your body froze as you heard an alien sound zip through the room. Then suddenly everything erupted.

The men’s shouts turned into screams and barked orders and suddenly you were being wheeled around in your chair in the dark like a shopping cart. You were whizzed past men that were running and crouching into your limited vision, aiming their guns and returning fire as more bullets wailed into the room. And finally you found yourself slamming into a corner somewhere, banging your knees against a rough drywall.

You screamed behind your gag and listened out as more men hit the ground and the guns grew into a cacophony of bangs. Death’s orchestra played for a solid few minutes, ringing in your ears and distorting the sound of your thrumming heartbeat as it crawled up through your throat and into your head.

You were sure you were going to die.

The battle raged on for a few moments more until suddenly the men’s shouts silenced and the bullets grew sparse. All you could hear was the echoes of gunfire and shrill ringing from your unprotected ears.

What was that?

You swore you could hear voices coming toward you.

“It’s alright, lass.”

You jumped as you felt someone touch your shoulder and cursed behind the tape in your mouth as the unidentified man tried to soothe you. It wasn’t until he pulled your blindfold down and you were greeted with his bruised face and ruffled mohawk that you calmed down, focusing your gaze on his icy pale eyes. He wasn’t one of the men who took you.

“I’m gonna take this tape off, ye good wi’ that?”

You frowned at the man, unsure if he was speaking english. You weren’t used to that accent, what was that accent? Scottish? Irish?

You only had a few seconds to look up at him blankly before he gave up on getting a response and ripped the tape from your mouth, drawing out a scream with it.

“You motherfucker!” you shrieked, feeling a layer of skin peel from your face.

“Easy! It’s ok! What's the sayin’ agian? Best to rip it off like a band-aid, yeah?” he chuckled.

“Not when it’s fucking duct tape over my face, you- you stupid- oh, oh no, my god, oh my god look out!”

You screamed as you caught a giant man emerging through the shadows and through the doorway into the dingy room you’d been wheeled into. A skull mask obscured his face and a massive gun was braced in his hands, he looked as if he could take on an entire army by himself. He was fuck off sized and ready to kill.

Your rescuer whipped around and raised his gun at your shout, body bracing and ready to defend you. Though, as he faced the hulking behemoth behind him he relaxed and lowered his gun again, cursing you through gritted teeth. Though, he turned back around to you with a smirk.

“He might be a scary lookin’ bastard, but that ones on our side,” he explained, slinging his gun behind him and getting to work on the tape on your wrists. “Sit tight and I’ll get you out of this in a sec, ok?”

“Is she hurt?” the masked man asked, flicking his dark gaze over your slumped body.

“Nah, doesn’t look like it,” the first man replied.

“She is scarred for life actually,” you huffed out, clutching your one freed arm to your chest. “What the fuck happened? Who the fuck are you two?”

“Settle down, princess. For now we need to get you out of here and back to your father, quickly and quietly, yeah?”

His accent was different from the other man’s, though to you it was just as difficult to make out through that thick gravely timbre. That one was definitely english, you thought, it sounded like ones from TV shows you’d watched when you were younger. It made you wonder what the hell the two brits were doing rescuing you when your dad was an American general.

Did he find them on Craigslist or something?

Typical of him to find a couple of brutish thugs to come fetch you rather than calling on one of the teams that he worked with, you thought sourly.

Though, as both your arms were free and you stepped onto wobbly feet you grew to appreciate his choice in rescuers more as they both towered above you. Even if they weren’t American they clearly knew their way around a fight.

“We’re gonna need you to follow us and do exactly as we say, ok? There’s still a few men lurkin’ about and if you want to get back to your family in one piece, we’ll need to avoid them,” the first man said, putting his hand on your tensed shoulder.

“You haven’t even gotten them all?” you hissed, escaping from his hold and backing against the cracking wall behind you.

The room was unfinished, crumbling from bullet holes and exposure to bad weather from the open windows. It looked like something straight out of a movie set, Soderbergh eat your heart out.

“We’ve gotten most of them,” the Scottish/Irish man shrugged, reaching around to secure his gun in his arms once again. “Some probably ran off durin’ the fight, but we can’t assume they aren’t hiding somewhere waitin’ for us.”

“Just be a good girl and do as you’re told, ok princess?” the other man growled, turning away from you and walking back out of the room.

Your mouth dropped open and just as you were about to fire off another retort, it died in your mouth when you heard a shot ring out from the hallway.

“All good, LT?” the first man called out, ushering you behind him.

“Solid, Soap,” the other man replied.

Soap?

That’s just great, you thought, you were stuck with a man named soap and his big ape of a friend wearing a spirit halloween special across his face. You could practically feel your chances of survival drop through the ground and into hell. You could feel the hot flames licking at your feet already, biting at your toes. Or perhaps that was the fact you’d been stuck in heels for an inappropriate length of time. Who knew?

“Alright, lets get movin’. Remember to stay close and stay quiet. We don’t know where these guys are hiding,” Soap reminded you. “Stick to my back and we won't let anythin’ happen to you, alright?”

You were out of sass for the time being. You could only nod your reply as you followed his orders, too afraid of him leaving you behind as he started advancing out of the room.

You might have felt annoyed at the fact they were treating you like a stupid little girl, but you were too wrapped up in the adrenaline of the situation to object anymore. You’d heard the gunfire, could still hear the echoes of it pelting through your ears. You knew you couldn't afford not to listen to the two incredibly patronising soldiers before you.

“Try to keep your eyes up, lass,” Soap whispered, gazing back at you briefly before heading through the doorway.

“Why do I have t- oh fuck!”

You could’ve thrown up as your eyes connected with the bloody corpses that littered the hallway like flies on a roll of catcher paper. There were so many of them. You could feel the bile fighting its way up your gullet as you stopped against the wall and closed your hazy eyes. Bodies. Actual dead bodies.

You’d never seen one before. Yet here you were surrounded by them, queen bee of a dead hive. It was too much. Staying up felt like fighting gravity and you were reduced to a pile on the floor in no time, huddled on a relatively blood free patch and stuck still against the rough chalky grey wall to your side.

“Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” Soap muttered, staring down at you with a worried look.

There were a few seconds of blessed silence where you closed your eyes and everything was ok for a second. You weren’t in a shithole crack den building in god knows where and instead you were back at the hotel, getting ready to go to bed with your girlfriends. Yes. You were going to put on pyjamas and take some painkillers and peace the fuck out till noon the day after.

“Fuckin hell.”

The growl brought you out of your daydream and soon you were looking up at the cold crocodilian eyes of the now named Ghost. Had he expected you to do better in the hallway of a thousand corpses?

“Alright, princess, up you get.”

You whimpered and expected him to offer you his hand to get you to your feet again, but you were taken by surprise when he leaned over you and enveloped you in his huge arms. You weren’t sure what the hell he was doing at first, but all became clear as you were hoisted over his shoulder and sprawling down his back like a chef’s tea towel.

“What the hell, dude! Put me down,” you growled out, thumping your fists against his thick layer of tactical gear.

“Quiet down, sweetheart. It’s not like you’re much use in those heels anyway,” he growled out, tugging on one of your silvery strappy shoes for emphasis.

“You can’t just pick me up like a sack of fucking potatoes!” you protested, continuing to feebly fail to fight your way out of his grasp.

“Apparently I fuckin’ can,” he chuckled, rumbling in that horrible patronising voice of his. “Now…Settle. Down.”

And with that he started moving again, taking you past the tour of bodies that you’d folded at moments before, stepping through them like you might do through a botanical garden. The men were poked full of bullet holes and some even had knives jutting out of their skulls, but it didn’t seem to phase your rescuers. They were in their element. You were decidedly not.

You felt like you were going to be sick and wondered briefly what the terrifying man would say if you were to throw up on him. Would he drop you as revenge? You quivered in his arms as he moved through the halls, following his partner faithfully in the shadows, only seeing by the light of the moon in some sections of the house.

Not soon enough, after being thoroughly traumatised for two lifetimes, you emerged out of the house you were in. Only hearing two more men be taken out before you were free to breathe fresh air again. You cleared out the disgusting smell of coppery blood and gulped in huge breathfuls of clear night air.

Air. Moonlight. Stars. You were in a barren front garden in the middle of nowhere. You could see out for miles toward that inky black sky on the horizon.

It wasn’t like something out of a nightmare anymore, this was real. And it was a new kind of scary. It was night and it was cold and your shivering renewed again as the giant placed you back down on your feet and let you stand on your own.

Why was it so fucking cold?

“You see anyone else?” Ghost asked his partner, sticking faithfully by your side.

“Negative. Think we’re good to move out, LT,” Soap said, giving his surroundings one last careful scan.

“Thank fuckin’ god. Might even get back to the safehouse before mornin’ at this rate.”

Safehouse?

What?

“Um, what do you mean safehouse?” you prodded, feeling the cold start sinking into your clattering teeth.

“It’s a house that’s safe,” ghost ‘helpfully’ provided.

“I fucking know that,” you said through gritted teeth, “what I mean is, why the fuck are we going to a safehouse? I need to go home. I need to get to an airport or something or like- like you should be calling me a helicopter or something! Why would we go to some safehouse and stay here any longer?”

“Your dad ordered us to take you there once we had you secured,” Soap said, staring over at you with a calculating gaze. “Now are you going to come get in the car yourself or does Ghost need to pick you up again?”

Fuck you.

You didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of answering.

- 👑-

“He’s doing this to punish me isn’t he? It’s fucking typical you know! Only he would pull this shit, only my dad would find out I got kidnapped and send in two fucking random Englishmen and not even want to get me home-“

“Whoa! Watch it!” Soap shouted, interrupting you mid rant. “You can call me a lot of things, but don’t fuckin’ call me English, sweetheart.”

“English, Scottish, Irish- whatever the fuck you are! Point is he should be here! He shouldn’t be letting me stew in some random safe house with you two…two- two strangers,” you whined, throwing your arms up in the air. “For all he knows you could both be serial rapists!”

“We’re two strangers that just saved your life, princess,” Ghost grumbled from the front seat. “And if your dad is punishing you, then I think I’m beginning to see why.”

Your mouth dropped like a lead weight and you stared daggers into the mirror, catching Ghost’s cold eyes in the reflection. He was still wearing the mask.

You were driving on country road that stretched almost limitlessly into the horizon but for some reason he was still in disguise. Not that you cared to see his face! No, if anything, you hoped you’d be out of their company much sooner rather than later for him to reveal himself. Though, that wasn’t going to happen it seemed, so you resolved to make that everyone’s problem. Share the burden of being abandoned to Mexico.

“In case you haven’t realised; I’m not exactly accustomed to dead bodies and I’ve just come from the midnight showing of night of the living fucking dead here! I should be getting wheeled into a therapists office right now, not getting bundled up into another strange house, spending the night with Micheal Myers and groundskeeper fucking Willie,” you growled out, penetrating your gaze into Ghosts very soul, hoping he’d feel a shred of pity for you.

However, you weren’t doing a very good job of that. Instead of knocking sense into the big brute you only made him narrow his eyes at you. And to add even further insult, Soap choked back a laugh. Though, he composed himself quickly after casting a glance at the leuitenant and focused his eyes back on the road.

“You’ve got a funny way of sayin’ thank you, princess.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before ignoring you completely. No matter how much you moaned and groused and demanded to be taken back home, neither of the men would answer your cries. Typical men!

They left you to marinade in your own self pity - in a dish that was endlessly deep. Afterall, how could your father not appreciate how stressful your ordeal was? Sure, you both had your differences, but you’d have thought that even he would put his malice for you aside on account of an actual real life kidnapping!

After a few more miles of barren road you found yourselves coming to a small village, and started to slowly roll toward a modest concrete house on the outskirts.

It was two floors high and painted a sandy cream colour, with a small sheltered space to park the car and protect it from the elements. It seemed as if it might just fit you and Soap through its tiny door, the ceilings didn’t look that high. And it was the thought of Ghost being stuck in its old wooden frame that made you finally crack a small smile for the first time since you’d been taken.

“Any complaints about the exterior before we step in, sweetheart, or would you like to save your scathing words for when you’re inside?” Soap teased as he opened the car door for you.

“Very funny,” you huffed, smile disappearing you made sure to knock into the door as you stepped out. “Maybe you can go make fun of some terrorist victims next.”

Soap raised his brows, but didn’t bother to dignify you with a reply. He closed the door behind you instead and walked up to house and unlocked it for you, ushering you inside. Not that there was much to walk into.

There was some basic furniture, a ratty old couch, a table and chairs, a kitchen that hardly seemed stocked and an old orange cloth rug that looked like it had seen better days. The place smelt like old newspapers for some reason, and all in all, it didn’t inspire much hope in you for the rest of the house. And just as you caught yourself thinking that, you knew you’d already proved Soap right. You had many, many, many complaints.

“Well, I drove. So I bagsy first shower,” Soap announced, trailing off toward the creaky wooden stairs at the end of the hall. “Try not to cause world war three while I’m gone.”

You balked as you felt Ghost brush past you, successfully getting through the door. Who had Soap directed that last order at? Jeuss. You were the kidnapping victim and somehow you didn’t qualify for washing up first? What was this?

Chivalry was truly dead. Though, it wasn’t like they’d rode up in white horses when they’d come to get you, no they emerged through a cloud of bullets and snatched you out of the house like a drug bust they could trade in for on the sly.

“And what am I supposed to do now, hm?” You said, turning to the man now shedding his gear like a second skin onto the couch.

He didn’t give you a response though, instead he just finished off pulling the various packs and armaments off of himself until he was left standing in his uniform and mask. He looked a few pounds lighter, but he was still massive compared to you. The equipment didn’t bulk him out quite as much as you’d suspected.

“Is there a phone I can use?” You finally asked, exasperated with the silence.

“No.”

He grunted as he took a seat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick tattooed forearms. You couldn’t help but feel that that was some kind of threat. Though, your suspicions were eased as he shuffled around and crossed his arms around his head, lying down and closing his eyes.

“So, what? We’re just waiting to see when my dad magically shows up?” You needled.

“You asked If there was a phone that you could use,” he reminded, glancing over at you with slitted eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest princess, there’s rooms upstairs that you can whine in in peace.”

What!

You clenched your fists at your sides and growled out in frustration. How was it that you were stuck with one of the most insensitive men in the world right after you got kidnapped? In fact it felt like you were being held hostage all over again.

Well you weren’t going to sit there and take it this time!

Before you could think about how bad an idea it was, you marched straight over to the sofa and started digging through Ghosts things. You crouched and moved aside all the smaller pouches and sharp pointy things trying to find anything that might resemble a phone. Though you didn’t get much of an opportunity to look, you were swiftly dragged up to your feet by the masked man and knocked away from his stash.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, not sparing a single decibel from piercing your already abused ears.

“I need to use a phone! I need to call someone!” You screamed back. “I need to tell people I’m alright. My friends must be worried sick and you’re treating me worse than a prisoner! E-Even prisoners get their phone calls!”

You tried desperately to fight against his hold, and screeched and hit against him like a banshee. However the man was solid, his hands were digging into your skin like a bear trap. And even as you tried to scratch at him, it didn’t deter him any. He just held you against him, making you smell the sweat off of him, the bullets, the smoke, you breathed him in as he pinned your hands flush to your body and screamed out as it became too much.

“In case you’ve forgotten, princess, we’re hiding out in a safe house right now because you’ve just been bloody kidnapped! You can’t call anyone because we need to keep the line clear and wait for word from back home. This isn’t fucking vacation, sweetheart, this is a fucking mission,” Ghost roared.

You froze at his words. Your body felt like it had been hit by lightning and all of a sudden you could feel the storm in you shifting. All of the adrenaline was draining from you and just like that, you went from fighting like a rabid dog to blubbering like a baby. You broke down in his arms and felt the tears flowing freely back down your cheeks and fell back against him defeated.

“Oh Jesus,” Ghost muttered to himself.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten you’d been kidnapped. You were just dealing with it all in the only way you could. it just so happened, that when you fell back on instinct to get you through hard times it would result in you being, well as your dad put it, a massive pain in the ass. You were sure that Ghost would say the same.

You didn’t even try to compose yourself, you were too upset to think.

So, as Ghost came to that conclusion too, he decided to take matters into his own hands and picked you up again. Though, instead of putting you over his shoulder this time, he held you tightly against his chest and carried you off into one of the side rooms further into the house.

The floor protested with every step the big man took and even over your shaky sobs, you could hear the wood below groaning like a zombie. He checked in the first door, and then the second on the wall to the right, coming to a stop when he found what he was looking for. Through blurry eyes you could see that you were in a small bathroom. A messily tiled room that contained an old wooden cabinet, a sink and a toilet.

Ghost sat you down on the closed toilet seat and pulled some tissue from the roll, pressing it into your limp hands. You looked down at it like it was alien for a second, not sure what to do until you met Ghosts unwavering gaze. You needed to dry your eyes and get control of yourself.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he sighed, turning and reaching into the cabinet.

You gulped down a fat sob that had been threatening to come and sniffled softly instead. As much as you begrudged him, you knew Ghost’s logic was sound. You needed to get a hold of yourself and stop crying in front of him. He was hardly the sympathetic audience for it.

In fact it almost made you laugh when he turned back again and his skull mask caught the light. The hard plastic only served to remind you that he wasn’t going to sit and rub your back and make you feel better about it all. It was like he said, this was a mission for him, and his only concern was getting you out of Mexico alive.

“There you go, deep breaths,” he said in a hushed voice, putting his hand on your shoulder for a second.

The warm contact was comforting for a fleeting moment, his hand was gentle yet firm on you before he took it away. He’d fetched a cloth from the cabinet and stepped over to the sink, running it under the water and stepping back to your side. You’d expected him to hand it to you just like he had done with the toilet paper, but instead he took you by surprise and crouched at your level, stepping down from his massive height.

He smoothed the cloth over your cheeks and down your tear tracks, softly clearing up your sensitive skin. When he’d brought the cloth away and refolded it, you’d half expected it to be a muddied black from your makeup but there were only traces of grey. You’d cried most of your makeup off already. Then, after a few more goes at letting him clear up your face you almost jumped out of your skin when a piercing ring sounded out from the living room.

“Stay here,” the soldier softly ordered, handing you the stained cloth.

Ghost ducked out of the room, and you lamely held the cloth in your hand, listening out to what he was doing. He silenced the ring, presumably answering the phone he’d secreted away, and for a second all there was was fuzzy silence and the low ringing that hadn’t left your ears.

“Mhmm,” Ghost grunted, his rumble cutting clear through your tinnitus. “Yeah we’re clear I reckon. Didn’t pass anyone on the way in…no one awake, no curtains twitching…your daughter is-…mhmm…yeah…ok. Well just so you know, your daughter is…fine by the way.”

The gruff man said the last part quietly, and it was that that clued you into the fact your dad probably hung up before he could catch it. He didn’t care how you were, only cared that you hadn’t been killed by a foreign gang. That probably wouldn’t have done his image any favours, you thought to yourself. What man wasn’t able to protect his family? A high ranking general at that. All that mattered was that you were safe and he didn’t have a PR crisis on his hands. How you were doing was none of his concern.

You gulped thickly when Ghost reentered the room and did your best to put on a brave face. He didn’t say anything. He flicked his eyes over your grave expression and took the cloth back from your hands, wetting it under the tap again and handing it back to you.

“Those must be killing you,” he murmured, gesturing to your feet.

You startled when he spoke again, not used to having a conversation with someone who’s lips were hidden behind a skull facade. It was quite unnerving when his rasp broke through the cloth.

Eventually though you nodded, looking down at your feet and finally acknowledging all the blisters that had formed where the straps had dug into you. The shoes had been new, you’d been excited to wear them when you put them on earlier. Now, they were just another regret among many.

“Let’s get them off, hm?”

You nodded again, caught by surprise by the tender way that he was dealing with you out of nowhere. Perhaps out of pity after speaking to the General. You had no way of knowing if he was sympathetic to that type of thing. He was a soldier afterall. They dealt with much worse than emotional neglect and were often oblivious to the cold way your dad treated you. At least in your previous experience of them...

Ghost got to his knees and softly took one of your feet in his hands, turning it slowly this way and that a couple times, until he caught sight of the tiny buckle. He dealt with it like he was diffusing a bomb.

He carefully took the end of the strap in one hand and lifted the buckle with the other, gently letting the catch come loose. Then he slid the shoe from your foot and repeated the process with your other. You had to do a double take. Was this really the same man that had all but snapped at you like a vicious dog earlier?

“Thanks,” you whispered, still uselessly holding the cloth in your hands. “Did the General say when we could leave?”

Ghost frowned as you addressed your dad by his title, but quickly fixed his eyes into that familiar cold stare. He thought to himself for a moment before he answered you. He was probably scared you’d kick off again, you realised.

“He said he wouldn’t get here till evenin’ at least. Said he’d be bringing a chopper though.”

“Ok.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. You’d run out of words, and steam and any kind of fight and all the things that had kept you going before.

You were going to be stuck with the two strangers until almost the next day. There was nothing you could do about it, no one you could complain to, no one that cared. You might as well just accept it.

- 👑-

You’d ended up taking Ghost’s advice afterall. You’d finished cleaning up in the bathroom yourself and painfully trudged upstairs with your swollen feet, searching out the first bedroom you could find along the gloom of the lonely hallway. The lightbulb flickered and danced as you’d made your selection, chasing you into the room as it mimicked the gunfire you’d seen flashes of not hours ago.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, not like you thought it would.

You’d been convinced you’d be left sitting like a character in a movie. Painfully watching the walls in the cold silence and mourning the life you could have had if only you came from a loving home. However, as much as you loved dramatics, you weren’t fit to live up to the hurting girl stereotype.

You realised that when you woke up again and the sun was shining through your room like a big bright fuck you. You thought you were getting a moment's peace? Think again. You were going to be awake for the rest of your internment at the safehouse.

You sighed and scanned the room with your eyes, taking note of the peeling paint and sparse bits of furniture, confirming what you already knew. This room was just as shitty as all the rest. It wasn’t like there was any reason to maintain safehouses beyond being structurally sound and stocked with essentials, but it would’ve been nice to provide some comfort. At the very least they could’ve made it smell better, less musty, less like a place people came to rot.

“You’re awake.”

You yelped when you heard the voice break through the calm and looked over to the door, spotting the looming spectre that stood in your entryway. Ghost. Had he been watching over you the whole time you slept? You didn’t know whether to feel creeped out or grateful for the fact he was so concerned about your safety.

“I am,” you finally said.

“Good. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been watching over you after all. Maybe it had been Ghost’s footsteps that had woken you up. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination, he sounded worse than a herd of cows when he creaked across the floors.

You sat up when he walked into the room and caught a glance at the bowl in his hands. Something to eat was a good description of what he’d brought you. It looked like he’d heated some spaghettios. Not exactly the most appetising thing that you could think of, but given you hadn’t eaten since the morning before, you realised that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that you were often, if ever, a beggar. It was easier for your family to give you unlimited access to money and shut you up than it was for them to spend any time in your presence arguing that you should work for it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl off of Ghost after staring at it for a few seconds.

There was a spoon already shoved into the bowl, and when you picked it up, you found yourself wincing at the burning metal. Ouch. Ghost couldn’t have warned you they were hot? You glared up at him, but he was already retreating back out of the room, seemingly content that you had everything you needed.

But you didn’t feel like you had everything you needed at all.

You felt pathetic admitting it, but you didn’t want to be alone. Your ears were still ringing even hours after the firefight had ended and there was nothing to do in that bland room all alone. And now to top it all off it felt much too hot and sweaty. You felt like you might go mad. You softened your features again and called out to Ghost, praying against all odds that he’d indulge you.

“C-can you stay?”

Ghost paused and turned his head, his skeletal mask caught the golden glow of the sun. It didn't look right. He looked out of place in the sunlight. Though, you knew better than to voice that thought, he wasn’t going to stay if you insulted him again.

“If you really want me to,” he finally replied, tilting his head at you.

You nodded and watched as he looked around and found no alternative but to sit on the end of the double bed, and sighed as he plonked himself down. The bed rippled with his weight, and you almost let the bowl spill out of your hands, but thankfully caught it before it could drop.

That wouldn’t have been good, you thought. You’d already set yourself on eating it all when it had cooled. You couldn’t go without food any longer or your stomach would be gurgling like an alien. How embarassing.

“Did you manage to get some rest too?” you asked awkwardly, testing the spoon in your hands again.

“Some,” he answered, casting his eyes over you. “Soap traded places pretty quick.”

“What an asshole,” you snorted, lifting a spoonful of pasta to your lips and blowing on it.

“That arshole saved your life, princess,” Ghost reminded you, voice regaining its husky edge. “Show some respect.”

“I didn’t-I mean…I just figured you could’ve probably used the rest, I was just joking…Sorry,” you muttered, resigning yourself to eating instead of talking.

Ghost watched intently as you ate every last spoonful, but you ignored him, finding yourself greedily taking on more and more as you recognised your own hunger. You forgot about Ghost’s scolding for the moment as you felt your hunger pangs rattling from deep within you. Though, you felt a little better after finishing the bowl. You were going to eat so much when you got back home, you thought to yourself.

You set the bowl down on the floor and looked back at your rescuer, staring awkwardly at him for a few moments. The silence was making your skin crawl. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Do you ever take off that mask?” you blurted, feeling your cheeks heat up as you said it.

Ghosts eyes took on a glint as you’d said it and if you weren’t mistaken it felt like he was…smiling? You bit your lip and looked away from him, focusing instead on a particularly chipped patch of paint on the wall to his left side.

“Why? Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I just- I don’t get why you still have it on. The bad guys don’t know we’re here, right?”

“Maybe I’m just shy,” he teased, leaning back on the bed, his forearms rippling as they supported his weight.

You snorted at his answer, folding your arms across yourself. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was staring at you bare faced, messy haired and still in yesterday’s tiny dress. There was no way that he was shy, and it seemed unlikely that he was ugly under there. He walked and talked like a confident man, like a man that had never questioned himself. How exciting.

“Has Soap ever seen your face?” you asked, picking at the loose threads on the blanket you laid under.

“Why the sudden fascination?” he grumbled. “I thought I was a big scary serial rapist or somethin’?”

You winced as he threw your words from earlier back to you, it felt like you’d been burned with acid. You realised how stupid you sounded now. He’d held onto that.

“I didn’t say that you were one, I said that you could be one,” you corrected, sighing at your own stupidity. “I didn’t know who you both were, in fact I still don’t. I guess- I guess I just got freaked out, is all. Do other people not react a little crazy when you go on rescue missions?”

“Other people tend to be more gracious, at the very least,” he snorted.

You winced again.

You really were a princess sometimes. As much as the nickname had been annoying you all night, the soldier wasn’t wrong to call you it. They’d been good enough to put themselves in harms way and carry you through a sea of threats only for you to turn around and return fire, calling them names.

You put your head in your hands and groaned. You always slung your arrows at the wrong people. Always got prickly with people that tried to help. And they’d helped you more than anyone ever had.

“Thank you for saving me. I know it's a little late, but all the same…thanks for getting me out of there alive,” you murmured, catching a glance at his widened eyes. “And for- um, dealing with me earlier. That was nice of you cleaning me up like that.”

Ghost took a second to recover from you actually thanking him, his eyes staying open and shocked before returning to their usual shadowy state. They looked almost black even even in the sunlight. Though, you supposed it didn’t help they were hidden behind cloth and plastic.

“You’re welcome, darlin’” he rumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Darling?” you grinned, preening at the warmth in his tone. “Am I growing on you?”

“Like black mould,” he groused, “Can’t get rid of your questions, can I?”

“You did not just compare me to mould,” you growled, forgetting yourself - and who you were facing up against - and shooting toward him with a pillow in hand.

Ghost, cast his eyes from you to the pillow and turned, catching you before you could do anything stupid with it and held you against the wide expanse of his chest again. You were held solidly against him, packed in tight and before you could do anything else, you were disarmed and your pillow was plucked right out of your hands and thrown back to the head of the bed.

“What’d you think you were gonna do with that then, ay?” he growled, his mouth dangerously close to grazing your ear.

His breath was warm on your neck and it raised a trail of goosebumps across your flesh. You shivered in his arms, feeling his words send a shock through your body, and felt yourself go limp in his bulging arms. Why was he suddenly so much more enticing when he had you pinned down like this?

“Ay?” he asked again, releasing a low chuckle. “You think you can attack me, princess? Think you can do a bit of damage with those little arms?”

“I think I could do a lot of damage if you let me,” you breathed, scraping your lip under your teeth.

The lieutenant paused and held you very still for a moment, his arms stiffening over your body like he’d moulded to you. Oh no. Had he not liked that, you wondered. Had you just embarrassed yourself again?

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, voice not losing his amusement.

Oh good. So he wasn’t disgusted with you.

“Maybe…depends on if you liked it or not.”

“And if I liked it?”

“Then, yes, I was.”

You both sat in silence for a second, you stayed trapped in his arms, holding stock still while he mulled over what you’d said. What now? You didn’t have to wonder very long, he released you and turned your body so that you faced him again, balancing precariously on your hands and knees, capturing your face in his hands so that you were forced to look at him.

“You should be careful who you flirt with, princess. It’s like you said earlier, I’m a stranger in a mask, you have no idea who I am…No idea what I’m capable of,” he trailed, letting your own mind take over the implication he was getting at.

Not that you got the point that he was trying to make. If anything the whole thing was suddenly hotter to you. A rough fuck with the giant soldier that just rescued you from a gang of kidnappers and could pin you down like you were nothing? Hadn’t he sensed your issues from a mile off? Maybe he had, maybe that was why he said what he said.

“Maybe I wanna find out,” you whispered.

You shot forward and kissed where you supposed his lips must be and, luckily, guessed correctly. You could feel him tense up in surprise before yanking you off of him and pinning you under him, holding your body down against the bed with his sculpted body, his legs caging yours in and his hands holding your wrists like manacles.

“Give me one reason you want to, other than spiting your father,” he purred, eyes glowing with amusement and curiosity.

So he did know your game.

“You have a sexy voice,” you tried, fluttering your lashes in a way that you hoped would work on him.

“Fuckin’ americans,” he grunted, laughing lowly to himself. “I want somethin’ better than that.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to go fishing for compliments,” you snarked.

With that little comment , you were rolled over quicker than you could comprehend and before you could turn to see what he was doing he slapped you on the ass. It was solid, no nonsense. Enough to sting even though he’d done it through the fabric of your little dress. He wouldn't have to do much to expose you and make it hurt more. He’d just have to flip up the fabric.

“Answer my question,” he growled, still holding one of your hands captive.

“Because I want you to teach me a lesson…because you’re the first person in a long time that’s had me minding my manners,” you sighed, using your free hand to give your body leverage enough to rut against the soldier's bulging crotch.

“Fuck me,” Ghost grunted, voice losing its sharpness as you rutted against him.

“That worked?” you grinned, half shocked that it clearly convinced him.

“You could have any cunt from England, princess, and plenty of em’ would sound like me. You think that they could make you beg like I can?” he questioned.

You were tempted to give him a sassy reply, but already knowing you too well, he hit you with a couple more spanks, this time on your bare ass and finally slipped your skirt up so that he could admire the flesh he was abusing. You gasped as he ran his hands over your cheeks and whimpered when he ran a finger over your slit. You practically feel his eyes glowing like laser sights as he connected with your glistening flesh and paused so that he could dip his finger into you and confirm his suspicions.

“Please,” you whined, praying that he’d start moving it, praying for friction.

“Looks like I’ve got my answer,” he chuckled, removing his soaked finger and slapping your ass noncommittally. “Please what, hm?”

“Please,” you cried out, feeling awfully empty as he’d withdrawn. “Please, I want your fingers. Want you to finger me please.”

“Aw, so cute when you’re all needy, princess. Alright. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I did ask nicely!” you whimpered, feeling your body burning with desire for him.

It felt like he was all you could think of now. The kidnappers and the whole resentment thing you had going for your family was a distant memory and all that remained was Ghost. All that remained was burning lust and a need to have him inside of you, possessing you wholly and taking you for his own.

“You’re such a little brat, princess. I just told you that you could have what you wanted and you just had to go spoil it for yourself,” Ghost said, his voice forging into a chilling point. “Looks like you need to be taught better manners.”

You groaned at his words, but you didn’t get much of a chance to work out what they meant. Instead, his hand rained down hard on your already stinging flesh and he spanked you like it was his next mission. You cried out as the smacks began to burn more and more and wriggled in his grasp, fruitlessly struggling against him and fighting his expert hands to no avail.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you chanted, giving him what you thought he wanted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, accentuating each word with a slap.

They were softer than the ones he’d been giving before at least. Like caresses against your screaming skin, fiery with his rough treatment.

“Sorry…for not asking nicely,” you said quietly, hoping to god he’d just give you what you wanted.

“Sorry, sir,” he grunted, running his hands over your hot skin.

“Sorry, sir,” you repeated quickly, sighing as his gentle touch soothed your prickling burns.

“That’s better.”

You hummed as his nails scratched down your cheeks and settled into the bed, feeling like the stiff blankets were transformed into egyptian cotton as your head grew fuzzy. His hands really were quite skilled, especially since he was so easily able to have you howling one second and then had you curling up like a cat the next.

“You wanna do this for the rest of the day or you wanna try asking for what you wanted again?” Ghost asked, his voice softening as he watched you relax.

“Mmm, would rather have your fingers inside me please, sir,” you moaned, smiling contentedly to yourself.

“That’s better…good girl.”

Your masked soldier grabbed your hips in his hands, making you feel tiny as he yanked you up like you were nothing. Yanked you into a half kneeling position as you kept your head pasted onto the bed, not having the strength to bring it up. Then finally, just as you were about to start begging again, spat on his hand and pierced his finger back inside you.

You groaned at the intrusion and whined as he slowly pumped it in and out, getting you all worked up and turning you into a moaning mess. You were burning for more, your belly tightening as he worked his digit in and out and circled your clit with his other hand like it was an art. You whined and writhed and clutched at the sheets, crying out as he added another finger and increased his pace. You could feel the rumble that caught in his throat reverberate through your chest. ‘

“So pretty. Your cunt’s so wet and you’re clenching on me so hard. What would happen if I shoved my cock in there? Would you cum right away, princess?” he purred.

You whined out at that and felt your need light up anew, could feel it vibrate around your skull and through your gums. Yes. Stick your cock in me. That’s all you wanted, you wanted the big man on top of you, pinning you down and boxing you in like an animal, fucking into you like you were his own personal fleshlight. Fuck.

“Ohmygod, please fuck me, Ghost!” you cried out, “Please, oh my god please, sir! Please fuck me.”

Ghost chuckled and slowed his pace, bringing his fingers to a near stop. It was like hell, the tingles dampening throughout your body, your high being torn from you. You growled out and tried to claw your way up, tried to face him and see the stupid glint that would no doubt be in his eyes, but before you could he shoved you back down and tapped your ass again.

“We don’t have condoms here, princess. It’s not exactly standard protocol,” he teased. “Doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“I don’t care! I’m on birth control and I get checked out by the doctor every month,” you whined, fighting against any argument he could make against giving you his cock.

“Well…I suppose that changes things,” he grunted.

Thank fucking god! You were sure you were going to d-

“Fuck!”

Your strangled cry pierced the room as he replaced his fingers and thrusted into you, shattering you inch by inch with his massive cock. It seemed endless, it was torturous in all the right ways, the burn that licked through your body like a forest fire. He was huge, not that you doubted that of course.

“That what you wanted, hm? That feel good, princess?” Ghost said, coming to a stop as he filled you completely. “Tell me, how does that feel? I wanna know if anyone else has been able to make you as fuckin’ speechless as this.”

You whined out, scratching at the bed underneath you like a trapped animal and breathed in thickly, wondering if your lungs would ever recover from the events of the last few hours. Wondering how to answer Ghost. How did it feel? Did anyone else compare to him? What stupid fucking questions.

Nothing compared.

“It feels so fucking good, feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you gasped, rocking yourself against him. “Need you to move, need to feel you ruin me!”

“Oh yeah? You need me to move? What a slutty girl telling me such filthy things,” he growled, reaching around and grabbing your neck, not quite enough to choke but enough to let you know he was in control. “Tell me, slutty girl, who’s in charge?”

“You, sir!”

“Who gets to wreck this pussy?” he asked, slowly begining to fuck you, rocking himself slowly in and out of you at an agonising pace.

“You, sir!”

“Are you my little whore?” He asked again, building up speed a little, catching you in all the right places and turning your head to mush.

“Yes sir,” you cried out, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge.

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

You screamed as he upped his pace out of no where and fucked you like it was his job. Your eyes lost focus and your teeth gnashed together and suddenly it was a fight to stay upright as he pounded in and out of you and held your neck tightly in his firm grasp. It wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, this was a new level of fucking you’d never experienced.

“Fuck!” you cried out again. “Gonna- gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Good, cum for me. Clench on my cock, little slut.”

You moaned out and gripped the sheets underneath you tighter, feeling your whole body shaking as his cock forced you off balnce. Just a few more thrusts and-

It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a muffled scream as Ghost clamped his hand over your mouth and gasped wordlessly as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

He kept going like that, absolutely relentless, skewering you and turning you to mush below him, making you feel like dirt at his knees. You were nothing, you weren't any kind of princess, you were just his toy. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he could make you feel like that, but still make you feel so fucking precious as he continued to caress your skin and growl affirmations every now and then.

So fucking pretty.

Mine, princess, you’re mine.

Feel so fucking good, you’re so fucking good.

You cried out as he put his hand around your throat again and put on some pressure, making you struggle a little to pull in air, but not by much. It felt exquisite. The tremors of your last orgasm were still bolting through you and now another one was building. You felt so good, felt so impossibly warm as you struggled beneath him. Fuck, you never wanted this to end. But you knew you could hardly take much more.

“You gonna cum for me again? Gonna give me another one before I finish? C’mon, I know you have another one in you, princess.”

You whined and felt your thighs shaking like they were going to collapse and suddenly his fingers closed tighter round the sides of your throat. You gasped loudly a couple times, trying to pant out that you were close, but the sound couldn’t quite form in your mouth. Then, in no time at all it was hitting you again, that high, that euphoria. Another orgasm.

“Fuck!” Ghost growled out.

You clenching around him had sent him over the edge and all too soon, you were both collapsing into the sheets like falling scaffolding. You clattered down against him and he pulled you close. He bucked his hips a couple times as he finished inside you, grunting a little with the increased sensitivity he felt as you shifted against him. It was divine.

You were both wrecked.

Neither of you said a word as you laid there, both keeping your eyes closed and your mouths open as you panted into the arid empty air. There was nothing to say. You just had to soak in the moment and retreat into each other's bodies, accepting the burning, unbearable heat you were both giving off and enveloping each other in it.

Fuck.

“Is that a better way of saying thank you, sir?” you finally moaned, grinning to yourself as you proved yourself right.

That was one way to teach you some respect alright.

#ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod fanfiction

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leighsartworks216 · 5 days

Text

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom.

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #harvey x reader #harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #slight hurt/comfort #fluff

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

who’s pretty?

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2,527

warnings: swearing, kissing, smoking (DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT), slight seasonal depression, innuendos/suggestive tone towards the end, allusions to nudity, fluff

a/n: hi!! i’ve been super excited to work on some christmas related fics, so here we are. i think it turned out super sweet and i think i might even like it! i really hope you guys like it too!! thanks for putting up with my shit. <333

————

Eddie spit out the plastic wrapper stuck between his teeth, setting the christmas tree cake in his mouth while he readjusted, tossing the film beside him on the porch and holding on to his cigarette more firmly.

Situated, the boy took an aggressive bite of the cake, red and green sprinkles crunching as he chewed. He swallowed, and took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He looked down, assessing the white icing covering his fingertips.

Eddie scarfed down the rest of his cake, licking the residue from his skin. Little Debbie wasn’t doing anything to soothe the ache in his chest. Neither was his cigarette.

Eddie watched the neighbors across the dirt road—it could hardly be called a street—wrap lights around their porch beams. Once up, they plugged them in, warm white lights illuminating the dingy gray of their trailer.

He tapped the ash off into the tray next to his thigh and scoffed a little. He always preferred the multi-colored lights to those.

He perked up, though, as the cat belonging to those very same neighbors leapt from the cat door and out into the sand, presumably in search of a mole or a cricket to snack on.

Eddie scratched his nails against the porch, watching for the cat’s head to snap up and notice that attention was waiting for him across the way.

He bounded over to Eddie, a black streak in the cool and foggy blue of the afternoon, starting to rub over his shoes and calves. “Hey, buddy.”

Eddie scratched behind the cats ears, rubbed his belly when he flipped over. But his visit was cut short as something moved in the overgrown grass and the cat shot away, back to business.

Eddie sighed, pushing off of the worn in wood, moving back inside.

The holiday season used to be Eddie Munson’s favorite time of the year. His uncle Wayne usually got two weeks off of work, and he’d spend them with his nephew, watching cheesy Christmas movies and eating themselves out of house and home.

He never got much in terms of gifts, nothing big or grand. But every band t-shirt Wayne brought home from the thrift store made Eddie’s heart grow two sizes. Every couple guitar picks or album that had a poster in the sleeve that Wayne would watch Eddie giddily tack up in his room.

As for Wayne, Eddie found that mugs were a very good gift, and could mean a lot. They did mean a lot.

Wayne didn’t love anything more than a nine-year-old, doe eyed Eddie running up to him with the present he’d hid in his room all December. He felt the same way when Eddie was twenty.

But it hadn’t been the same in recent years. It hurt, but Eddie knew that’s how it worked. Things changed, and the things you loved as a kid don’t feel the same as you get older. They aren’t the same.

Wayne didn’t get two weeks off for the holidays anymore. The plant wasn’t as abundantly employed as it used to be. He was lucky if he got Christmas Eve off and not just the day of. When Wayne was home, he was tired, and it wasn’t the occasion that it once was, full of hyper Eddie shenanigans.

But Eddie missed it. He missed going on walks to the rich neighborhoods to look at their elaborately set up light displays. He missed laying in bed at night, even long after he knew that Santa was actually Wayne and everything else was capitalist bullshit, trying to go to sleep so that his presents would be delivered.

Fuck, he missed being a kid.

He was lost in this mental turmoil spiral when the door slammed and Wayne returned from picking up dinner. Eddie hopped up, ready to help get plates out and make sure the restaurant hadn't forgotten anything.

"Hey, kiddo?" Wayne asked once they'd settled down to eat. Eddie looked up at his uncle from his place on the floor. With his legs crossed and hands bare of any jewelry, Wayne thought his nephew looked lightyears younger. Like his little boy. Eddie hummed in response.

"Merill's has a good bit of trees left. You wanna go pick one out in the next couple days?" Eddie's eyes lit up and he moved to sit on his knees, stuffing pizza crust in his mouth.

He finished swallowing, "Yeah, of course. You sure you won't be too tired or anything?"

Wayne watched as Eddie scanned for his next breadstick. He'd had that nervous habit since he was little: occupying himself while waiting for a response in fear that something would go wrong.

"No, bud. I'll be just fine."

And so they drove up to the farm and brought home one of the smallest and scraggliest trees--just like they always did. Wayne said those had the most character.

Later when it was getting dark outside and both parties were resting from getting the thing inside and in its stand, Eddie realized it was past time for Wayne to be at work, and he wondered if he'd possibly zoned out enough to entirely miss his uncle's goodbye.

He slipped down the hall, only to see Wayne sorting through various holiday lights. "Uh, Wayne?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Aren't you late for work?"

"No, bud. I've got time off. Suppose I should've mentioned that, huh?" Wayne hadn't forgotten to tell Eddie. How could one forget that they had time off from work? He'd simply wanted it to be a surprise.

Eddie might've been very good at concealing his feelings in general, but Wayne knew he was bummed that Christmas had changed for the both of them. Wayne looked up at Eddie, who was practically beaming.

"Really? How long?"

"Two and a half weeks."

"Shit." Eddie was grinning hard, cheeks pinked and knees bopping slightly. He was excited.

"Guess that means your happy?" Wayne handed the boy one end of the lights to plug in and check they still worked.

"Well, yeah, duh."

"What would you think about asking Y/N over? She could spend the night on Christmas Eve and then the day if she's up for it. Thought maybe you'd like that. I could cook or somethin'."

"I think she'd love that. And you don't have to cook. She'd gladly eat take out, I know."

That night, Wayne stepped out of the bathroom to see Eddie lying on the floor in front of the tree reading, but also staring up at the colored lights in awe. Wayne felt his eyes get glassy and blinking the oncoming tears away. His boy.

He walked over, crouching to plant a prickly kiss in Eddie's curls, only to ruffle them afterwards. "Night, Eds."

Eds. His uncle was the only person that had ever called him that before you. He didn't say it often, but it was one of his favorite things to hear. "Night, Wayne."

————

"Hey, precious." Eddie swung the door open for you, simultaneously shoving a cookie in his mouth.

"Afternoon, Edward." Eddie wrinkled his nose at the use of his birthname, which you kissed in greeting.

"Want a cookie? They've got sprinkles."

"In a second. I've brought a gift for your pretty tree." You set your bag on the coffee table.

"Who's pretty?" Wayne asked, emerging from the back of the trailer.

"You Waynie," Eddie quipped, earning himself a playful smack on the back of the head.

"The tree is pretty, Wayne," you supplied. "I brought it presents. Sorta."

Eddie watched as you dug around, pulling free two ornaments, though he couldn't quite make out what they were.

"Here, Wayne, this one's yours." He held out his hand, and you set the object in his palm. His was a little Garfield ornament. The cat was wearing blue pajamas and was holding a little teeny coffee mug.

Wayne laughed appreciatively. "That's a good one, sweetie. Thank you. Will you find it a good spot on the tree for me?"

"Sure!" He squeezed your shoulder and watched as you put it front and center, towards the middle of the tree, that way Garfield could keep watch.

Wayne walked off into the kitchen, giving you space to give Eddie his prize.

Eddie waited patiently, though that was often a struggle for him. "Okay, I might've gotten you two. But I couldn't not get one of them." Eddie held out both hands, grinning expectantly. It was simple, really, the more you looked at it. A black sphere with purple lettering. One side said Master of Reality, the other Black Sabbath.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, turning the ball over in his hands. "Where'd you find this?"

"The record store in town had a whole bunch of old ornaments on sale, like they'd been cleaning out the back, and I thought you'd like it. Do you?"

Eddie smacked a dramatic kiss on your forehead. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? Of course I like it." He couldn't take his eyes off of it, mainly because it was so sweet of you to have gotten for him, but also because he thought it was funny that the store still had one considering how long the album had been out.

Eddie was lost in thought when you approached him with the next one. "When I went to get a book last week they had this little tree covered in book-related ornaments, and I saw this and I gasped so hard the lady behind me asked me if I was alright."

Eddie laughed, throwing his head back, and you took the opportunity to hang the ornament off of the tip of your finger to show him. He looked down, only to see a small painted ornament that looked like a book. It was The Hobbit.

"Baby." You were the one grinning like an idiot now. That one earned you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Isn’t it cool?” You asked, pointing out that the text was raised and everything, that the spine even had ridges.

“It’s so cool.” He spun around to walk the few feet into the kitchen. “Wayne, would you look at this?”

Eddie’s uncle did as requested, smiling at your gesture. “That is very cool, Eds. Looks better than the copy you’ve got.”

“It totally does!” The boy wasn’t even slightly offended.

Eddie marched over to the tree, nestling the ornament amongst the others, along with his Black Sabbath one.

He turned to you, taking your face in his hands.“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m gonna be so annoying about those now.”

“I know. I prepared myself on the way here.” The smile he gave you was brilliant, and there was no other way to describe it.

————

The three of you spent a good portion of Christmas Eve making cookies: gingerbread, snickerdoodles, shitty sugar ones with sad icing jobs. Though, you did make sure to get most of it done early so there was time to chill.

You watched loads of movies. How the Grinch Stole Christmas had been on that morning, and Eddie extravagantly performed “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch” for you, poking at your sides to get you to smile.

Eddie rented Die Hard for you, just because he knew you had the hots for Alan Rickman. He slipped it in the VHS slot, only for Wayne to say, “This the one with her pretty boy in it?”

Eddie practically cackled as you sunk into the couch more than he thought possible.

“He’s not a boy,” you argued. “He’s a total man, thank you very much.”

You watched Gremlins, and Eddie laid his head in your lap. You missed the way Wayne looked over at the two of you, in awe of how lucky he was that his boy had found someone so good. He thought about how happy he was to have this little family.

Wayne picked up food from Benny’s, not wanting to have to cook two nights in a row.

At the end of the night, Eddie finished off his first pile of rentals with Silent Night, Deadly Night. You didn’t mind, not with how excited he was about it. You loved a good slasher anyhow.

It was well past midnight when the film was over, and you cleaned up the popcorn mess while Eddie rinsed cans out for the recycling before the both of you slipped away to allow Wayne some rest before the big day.

Eddie had been in the bathroom while you went into his room to get changed. You slipped out of your pajama bottoms, opting for no pants at all considering Eddie was like a human furnace.

You heard the door click shut behind you as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your back bare to him. Eddie wolf-whistled.

You through the shirt at him, aiming for his face, only for him to catch it instead. “Usually it’s dinner and a show, not bedtime and a show, but I’ll take it, hot stuff.”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson.” Eddie giggled to himself as he stopped you from putting on your own shirt, reaching for one of his own. He pulled out his worn in Master of Reality t-shirt.

“Seems appropriate, don’t you think?” He slipped the fabric over your head. “Stick your arm through—there you go.” Once settled, he kissed you sweetly before giving you a light slap on the ass as you climbed into bed.

“C’mon now pretty boy, let’s see my bedtime show.”

Eddie shimmed out of his sweats for you, stepping out of them with a flourish. You giggled at his underwear, which had little Santa hats on them.

“Don’t laugh, they’re comfortable!” He took off his shirt and you made grabby hands at him.

You sat up on your knees to kiss his spider tattoo and then the demon, making sure to hit them all. You made him spin to get the newer one on the small of his back: very sexy bat wings.

Eddie crawled into bed with you, switching his lamp off. “Now, look, I know I’m insatiable, and you’d probably love to stay up all night kissing me, and sweet-talking me, but we gotta get to sleep if we want Santa to come.”

He tickled his fingers up your arm when you stared to laugh, burying your face in his chest.

“Eddie, my love, you haven’t got a chimney.”

He scoffed, fighting a laugh. “You doubt Santa’s abilities to get me my presents though I lack the typical vessel? He has his ways, baby. Damn.”

Eddie reached for your thigh, grabbing hold and swinging it over both of his before kneading at the squish of it. He patted it fondly before he kissed your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, you little shit,” you said. “I love you.”

Eddie snickered. “Goodnight, pain in my ass. I love you more.”

The holiday season had officially climbed right back up to being one of Eddie Munson’s favorite things. He thought, laying there beside you that night, that you and Wayne were the best people in the world.

It felt like all the shitty Christmases had been leading up to this fucking excellent one, and he was over the moon.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson christmas fic #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie the banished #eddie munson x female reader #savannah’s fics

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fandomohana · 1 year

Text

1986 Will Be Their Year {Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader} Chapter 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader

Rating: Mature 18+ Minors DNI

Genre: Mild smut, some fluff

Warnings: Cussing, implied/referenced sexual activity, implied/referenced masturbation, self esteem issues, canon typical violence, let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Picking up where we left off. The gang goes through Watergate, basically goes through the timeline of episode 7

Author’s Note: So I’m posting this during a big sad, and my first draft poofed, which made me grumpier...so this chapter is not beta read, I doubt anyone cares. Anyway, interactions are nice, and I hope this chapter isn’t a dying turd flower

Second Author's Note: I came here to write this, and almost deleted the damn thing. 😳 My heart almost stopped...I wanted to add, I really was a member of my high school swim team, and I was a distance swimmer. 💙 I'm trying to keep reader fairly neutral, to fit a wider group of readers, but I couldn't resist. 🥰

Authors Note 3: I want to make it abundantly clear that reader is self conscious because reader is based on me. It has nothing to do with plus size people being unacceptable, I find plus size women to be beautiful! BUT I don't feel that way about myself, and reader is based on me. In time, Eddie will help reader see herself through kinder eyes. When someone says something nice about me, I reassess my negative point of view. Like when someone visits your hometown for the first time, and all of a sudden you see these well known attractions through their eyes, and suddenly the common becomes beautiful again.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Dustin raced ahead of the group, following the wildly turning needle of his compass, before entering a clearing in the forest, “Something’s happening.” He breathed out before continuing on his path.

Behind him, Eddie brushed past the trees, and low hanging branches, the area feeling eerily familiar, “Dustin? Can you slow down? Dustin?”

Dustin turned his head, a smile stretching across his face as he looks to Eddie, “I think we’re getting close.” He spoke excitedly, but neglected to turn back around, and face the trail, as he hurried on.

Eddie’s hands were on Dustin in a flash, keeping the younger boy from falling directly into a lake, “Watch your step, big guy.” He clapped a protective hand across Dustin’s chest, as the rest of their party caught up.

“Oh man. You gotta be shitting me.” Came Steve’s exasperated voice from behind the pair.

“Yeah,” breathed Eddie, “I thought these woods were familiar.”

“Lover’s Lake.” Robin replied.

Confusion was evident in Dustin’s voice as he spoke, “This is confounding.”

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Came the equally confused voice of Max.

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked,” Nancy began, “It always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

“Yeah, only one way to find out.” Steve’s voice sounded tired, and the group instantly knew what had to be done.

After whipping off the tarp hiding the small boat waiting on the beach, Eddie and Steve began to maneuver the vessel into the water. With a grunt, and slight reprimand from Steve, the boys held the boat against the shore to steady the vessel as the passengers stepped aboard.

Robin stepped between them, using both Eddie and Steve as hand holds, to enter the boat. “I’m just gonna do that. Thank you.”

“Yeah, that works too.” Steve responded sarcastically, as Robin positioned herself in the boat.

Eddie was next, standing to aid the others who would be joining them. He knew Nancy would be one, the boat could easily hold four, and with the gate being inside the lake, he assumed Y/N would be another, as she was a veteran of the swim team. “Wheeler.” Eddie held Nancy’s hand as she got her bearings, his heart skipping a beat knowing Y/N would be next. His favorite swimmer didn’t disappoint, she stepped up, Steve holding her back, Eddie reaching out with a, “M’lady.” Before assisting her into the boat, and ensuring she was safely seated before stopping Dustin with a, “Hey, hey, hey, you trying to sink us? This thing holds four people tops, okay?”

Eddie moved to sit by Y/N, meeting her reassuring gaze with a small smile, before Nancy spoke again, “It’s better this way, okay? You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“You keep an eye out.” He squeaked out before sassily adding, “It’s my goddamn theory.”

“Dustin, as much as I love your disgruntled pelican routine, would you give it a rest, please? Just listen to Nancy.” Y/N called to her brother.

“Who put her in charge?” Dustin squealed indignantly.

“We did.” Came his sister’s cool reply, as she gestured between herself and Robin, leveling him with her best big sister eye.

“Compass.” Nancy reached toward Dustin, as he silently fussed, but still handed the device over, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

As Eddie and Robin each took an oar, preparing to lead the boat into open water, Steve threw his bag to Dustin, pushed the boat off the beach, and jumped in, to the chagrin of Dustin, “You said four.”

“Sorry.” Came Steve’s whispered, half-hearted apology.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos.” Robin’s voice carried across the still night, Dustin giving her the finger in return, “Miss you already!”

--------------------

As the small vessel reached the middle of the lake, Nancy noticed the spinning of the compass become even more erratic, “Woah, woah, woah, woah, slow down. Slow down, guys.”

Eddie and Robin immediately halted their rowing, pulling the oars inward to bring the boat to a full stop, allowing it to sway slowly in the stillness of the night.

After a brief communication with the shore, Nancy noticed Steve taking off his shoes, and socks, tossing them into the bottom of the boat. “Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy asked, obviously confused.

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out.” Replied Steve, not stopping his disrobing. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then...”

“I’m a distance swimmer, but it’s usually across a pool, not exactly down, where I can’t roll my breathing...” Y/N responded, being the only other true swimmer in the group.

“It’s gotta be me. No complaints, all right?” Returned Steve.

Eddie let out a small breath, “Hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” He glanced over the side, into the murky depths, before reaching into his pocket to retrieve a plastic bag. Emptying the contents into the boat, he began to wrap the flashlight inside the bag, creating a makeshift, waterproof beacon, he then handed to Steve with a, “Good luck.”

His plans for a smoke were quickly shattered when the cigarette between his lips was pulled out by Robin, and tossed into the lake with a, “Gross.” Followed by the rest of the pack, courtesy of Y/N. ‘Guess I’m going cold turkey.’ He thought to himself, he could quit for her.

The four left in the boat, closely monitored the time Steve had been down, in case Y/N needed to intervene, and bring him back to the surface.

--------------------

Steve broke the silence of the night as he burst through the surface of the water, thoroughly startling the entire boat, before panting out, “I found it.”

Robin radioed the shore, “Dustin, you are a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate-”

“It’s pretty wild. It’s more a snack-size gate than the mama gate,” Steve panted, holding onto the boat, “but still, it’s pretty damn big.”

Without warning, Steve is pulled back into the water, still clinging to the boat, he is able to pull himself up, unsure of what he just felt. With barely a second breath, he was pulled again, this time his hands were wrenched from the boat by the force of the pull. The other’s screamed, trying to reach him, as he was dragged toward the bottom of the lake.

“What the hell was that, man?” Eddie screamed.

“Nancy, really, what happened?” Asked Robin.

Nancy stood slightly, preparing to jump in, when Eddie’s voice broke through, “Wait, wait, wait. You’re not going in there, are you?”

Nancy didn’t take a moment to look at the others before saying, “Just wait here.” As the other’s attempted to stop her, she dove in.

“Goddammit!” Exclaimed Eddie in sheer frustration. A breath later Robin poised herself on the edge of the boat, Y/N following suit, entering into a diving position. He held up a finger, chanting, “No, no, no, no, no, no. What are you doing? She said wait.”

“Yeah, we heard her.” Y/N responded.

“She’s in charge.” Eddie was grasping at straws to keep the other two in the boat.

“Are you kidding me? I made that shit up.” Robin replied before holding her nose, and leaning back into the water. Y/N followed, almost synchronized, her body curving in a dive, fingers cutting through the water as she disappeared into the murky depths.

Eddie knew he couldn’t just stay and wait, he didn’t know what was down there, what could hurt the others, what could hurt Y/N. He wouldn’t let her face it alone, and after a small, curse filled tantrum, Eddie stood in the boat, “Oh, this is so stupid. This is so stupid. This is so stupid. Shit! Shit! Shit!” filled the air as he flailed into the water.

--------------------

When the group found Steve, he was surrounded by bat-like creatures, each clawing, and biting into his exposed skin. Brandishing oars, and other makeshift weapons, Nancy took aim first, beating one of the creatures to the ground, while Robin pummeled the beast. While one had managed to escape, others were fast approaching as the four of them fought to free Steve.

After sending one of the monsters reeling, Eddie looked up in time to see Y/N, bat pinned to the ground with one foot, the other coming down with all the force she could muster, crushing the beast’s skull under her foot. Her eyes were wide, full of rage, Eddie found himself taken aback, she was always incredibly gentle, warm. But here she was, shaking bat viscera from her shoes, wheeling around to kick another across the landscape, and if he was being honest, would have scared him had he not known her outside of this situation. He had been worried about how Y/N would handle this violent altercation, but here she was, a warrior, and in spite of himself, he swelled with pride.

Y/N appeared at Eddie’s side, as he pulled another bat to the ground with his oar, before sending her foot through the skull of the creature, a pool of black blood, and tissue spread out around the pair's feet.

“Thanks for the backup, Princess.” Eddie huffed out, unable to help the proud smile that crossed his face.

Y/N took a steadying breath, “Anytime. Besides, Dustin would kill me if I let anything happen to his Dungeon Master.” She laughed, shaking more blood, and tissue from her, now ruined, Converse.

Eddie and Y/N turned to see Steve, now freed from the heinous creatures, battling the last. Steve looked like a man possessed, tearing at the creature before swinging it into the ground repeatedly, before tearing the thing in half.

The party, now reunited, took inventory of injuries while catching their breath, and regrouping. Unfortunately, the relief was short lived, as a fresh wave of bats swooped to the ground, near the gateway.

“All right. There’s not that many.” Huffed Steve, feeling confident in their odds. “We can take ‘em. Right?”

Their hearts dropped, collectively, as the screeches of a larger horde could be heard echoing through the open air.

“You were saying?” Robin added.

Nancy’s voice broke through the shock of the remaining group members, “The woods. Come on.”

The group began to run toward the sanctuary of the woods, dodging black, vein like vines that littered the dry lake bed.

--------------------

Taking refuge under Skull Rock, the party waits out the bat horde flying over their heads, but as the creatures passed the rock, the severity of Steve’s wounds became more apparent.

While Nancy dresses Steve’s wounds, Eddie steps away to survey the area. He had been unaware of Y/N’s approach, until he felt a hand on his arm, “You okay, slugger?” she asked when he turned to face her.

“You know me, Princess, it’ll take more than some bats to get rid of me.” He replied with a wry grin, before stepping away to scale a large rock outcropping, and take stock of the hellscape they found themselves in. “So, uh,” His voice echoed through the space, “this place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Pretty much.” Nancy replied as she helped to support Steve.

Eddie lifted a foot, preparing to climb down from his perch, when Nancy’s voice breaks the silence a second time, “Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hive mind.”

“It’s all a what?” Came Eddie’s confused response.

“Think of a hydra, or Cerberus, different pieces connected to one body. You step on a vine, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Y/N answered.

Nodding, “Shit.” was all Eddie could muster, as he began his slow, deliberate descent from the rock.

The other four discussed ways to get past the bats that were currently guarding the gate. Robin suggested grenades from the police department, but was rebuffed by Steve, who was doubtful that a small police station would have anything nearly that powerful in their arsenal.

Nancy piped up, “Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns. I have guns in my bedroom.”

“You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?” Came Eddie’s incredulous reply.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that! Nancy, our badass, one-woman armory!” Chimed Y/N, a grin splitting her face.

Wanting to break the uncomfortable romantic banter that had cropped up between Nancy and Steve, Eddie shucked his jean jacket off, launching it at Steve, “For your modesty, dude.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, before an earthquake rocked the ground beneath them, sending all five reeling. Steve blocked Nancy, and Robin, while Eddie grabbed Y/N to shield her from falling debris. The pair of them falling to the ground in the commotion.

As the shaking begins to subside, Eddie takes a quick inspection of Y/N, assuring she was unscathed, she appeared to be doing the same to him. Feeling a brief sense of relief, she leaned back into his chest, despite the dire straits they found themselves in, Eddie couldn’t help the stuttered jump of his heart as he felt her weight on him.

The bliss would, however, be short lived as a long, loud screech tore through the air. “So guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.”

“Yeah, me too.” Came Y/N’s breathy response.

Eddie hates to part from where they are seated, he wanted to relax, and revel in her warmth for a moment longer, but reluctantly began to stand when Steve began to lead the group out, helping Y/N from her seated position.

--------------------

Eddie fell into line shortly behind Y/N, despite proving herself more than capable, he didn’t want her out of his sight in this hellhole. His thoughts were broken by Steve calling his name, “Eddie. Eddie. Hey, man. Uh...listen, I just, uh...I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, falling back to walk beside Steve, “Shit. You saved your own ass, man. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve questioned.

“When you took a bite out of that bat.”

Steve looked to his side, confused.

Before Eddie could explain, Y/N could be heard, “Are you talking about when Ozzy Osbourne bit the head off a bat on stage?”

Eddie faltered a moment, “You know Black Sabbath?” She wasn’t real, she couldn’t be.

She turns her head to address him, “I don’t listen to them much, but shit like that, that news gets around.”

Regrouping himself after yet another shock at the hands of the girl he was definitely in love with now, “It doesn’t matter. It’s very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Thanks.”

“Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact.” Eddie spoke through slightly gritted teeth.

“Wait, Henderson said that?” Came Steve’s shocked response.

“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying, to be honest. I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks,” he tries to be nonchalant, “but, uh, guess I got a little jealous, Steve.” He didn’t mention his jealousy also bled into Steve’s closeness with Y/N.

“Calm down, there’s enough room for two mother hens in Dustin’s life.” Y/N said with a snort of laughter.

The pair gave her a half-hearted withering stare, before Eddie continued, “I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe, and my own personal Munson doctrine.” He gestures to himself for emphasis.

“He’s our very own shiny haired unicorn.” Y/N snorts.

“Haha, Y/N.” Steve deadpanned.

“I do what I can.” She shrugged in front of them.

“Still super jealous as hell, by the way.” The two men laugh, before Eddie continues his thought, “Which is why I would never have jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any, uh...normal circumstances. Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

“Give yourself a break, man.” Steve tried to reassure him.

“Do I need to hit you again?” Y/N asked, back still turned to the pair.

“Good god, woman, do you have bat hearing?” Came Eddie’s exasperated response.

“It’s a gift, and I don’t like hearing people I care about, put themselves down.”

Eddie tries to hold back the smile, and the small rush he feels upon hearing she cares about him. “See, the only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you.” He gestures to the three women ahead of them. “Now, I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind.” He neglected to mention Y/N was the other reason he dove in, but Steve didn’t need to know that. “But Wheeler right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in. Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that, was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

A second earthquake ripped its way across the land, Eddie’s eyes shot to Y/N, until he saw her squatted down close to the ground, steadying herself against the shaking. Once the ground settled, Eddie again helped Y/N to her feet, before the rest of the group ran to catch up with Nancy, who was standing on a bluff overlooking the Wheeler home.

“Come on.” Nancy leads the charge across the field, eyes trained on home, and hopefully, their salvation.

--------------------

With sinking hearts, the party realizes the Upside Down is stuck three years in the past, Nancy’s guns being replaced with shoes, and various aspects of her room having reverted to a time before.

Steve’s voice could be heard from downstairs, screaming for Dustin. Robin, Y/N, Eddie, and Nancy bolted down the stairs, toward Steve’s calls.

“Maybe he really does have rabies.” Robin muttered.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy questioned.

After momentarily blinding the other members of the group, Steve spoke frantically, “He’s here. Henderson. That little shit, he’s here. He’s like...He’s in the walls or something. Just listen.”

Steve’s companions look on, wondering if Robin had been right, that he had lost his mind, until Dustin’s voice could be heard, distant, and echoing. “That brings us to the question you first raised.”

They begin searching the house, trying to follow the distant sound to its source, but to no avail.

“All right, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag.” Steve volunteered.

“To be fair, either of those is a distinct possibility, knowing my brother.”

Nancy began to put the pieces together, Will had found a way to communicate with Joyce through lights, but a cursory check of lamps, and light switches, proved to be futile. Futile until Steve noticed the faint, shimmering light emitting from the dining room light.

Nancy was the first to reach into the swirling particles, the small lights becoming brighter at her touch. In turn, they each reached a hand into the light, watching it shine brighter, and stronger.

“Does anyone know Morse code?” Asked Nancy.

A chorus of, no, was the response from Robin, Steve, and Y/N.

“Wait, does SOS count?” Eddie questioned. “Is that...is that good?”

“That’s perfect.” Y/N looked up at him, smiling, as warmth bloomed in his chest under her praise.

Eddie set to work, sending SOS in Morse code, hoping Dustin would get the message on the other side.

--------------------

Waiting in Nancy’s room, the entire group seemed to be holding their breath in unison, watching for a sign that they could communicate more easily with the other side.

Dustin’s voice could be heard across the void, asking for a sign that the others saw their lights. Nancy ran a hand through the empty space on her bed, watching light appear under her fingertips.

With cheers of relief, Nancy begins to communicate with Dustin, formulating a plan to get them out of the Upside Down.

Unsure of Dustin’s meaning about a gate at each murder site, Nancy writes a question mark. Dustin could be heard, heaving a dramatic, exasperated sigh, “Okay, seriously? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?”

“Jesus Christ. This kid’s gotta get his ego in check.” Steve replies.

“It’s his tone, right?” Comes Eddie’s answer.

“Try living with him...” Chimed in Y/N

Seven miles, they need to traverse seven miles of treacherous, open space, to reach the gate inside the Munson trailer. Robin has the idea to use the Wheeler bikes, objects that would have been at the house in 1983, and thus frozen in time like the rest of the residence.

Reaching the trailer, they discard their bikes, and observe the intimidating red sinew spread across the ceiling of the living room, the place where Chrissy died. The membrane pulsed, leaving the group on guard, unsure of what was going to come through.

With a gush, the membrane is penetrated, and all five jump back, waiting, on edge. When nothing attacks, Steve leads the group slowly, under the new hole, unbelieving what they see. Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Erica stare down at them from the ceiling, laughing.

--------------------

When the mattress was dropped to the ground beneath the hole, stains on full display, Eddie attempted a shaky excuse, “Those stains are, uh...I don’t know what those stains are.” He couldn’t exactly admit that six months of sexual fantasies about Y/N were the source. The first time he had plucked up the courage to go to one of her meets, he knew what would happen after seeing her in a swimsuit, it was worse than he thought. He had to race to the bathroom to relieve himself before she even hit the water for her first event, like a goddamn thirteen-year-old, catching his first glimpse of cleavage. No, he couldn’t admit that her name was on each of those stains, and then some, and still maintain a chance of being with her. It was too pervy, she’d be turned off, or worse, disgusted, it was better to leave the source, to their collective imaginations.

After watching Robin pull herself up the makeshift lifeline, Y/N squeaked out, “Uh...as far as I know, the physics are still the same over here, and I know I can’t hoist myself up there...” She began worrying her lip as she watched Robin plummet to the mattress. “And I know for a fact I can’t do that, without some serious injury...”

“We can stack furniture, and make a ladder for you, Y/N. We’re not leaving you behind.” Nancy reassured.

“I’ll go next, and catch you.” Eddie added.

Y/N let out a self-deprecating snort, “And I’ll flatten you...Dustin, can you guys just build me a little ladder, so no one is killed when I come through?”

Before Dustin could answer, Eddie had started piling furniture, “I’m stronger than I look, Princess, just trust me.”

“It’s your funeral...If I break myself doing this, make up a heroic story.”

Eddie’s heart sank, how could she not see how amazing she was? He wanted to destroy whoever had put into her head, that she was anything short of perfect. He vowed then, if he was ever given the chance to be hers, he would spend all of his time, and effort, proving to her how much he adored her. Eddie wanted to soothe every pain, every scar that an indifferent, shallow, idiotic world had left on her.

Once the furniture tower, or hobbit ladder, as Y/N had called it, was finished, Eddie began to scale the rope. Falling to his mattress, Eddie let out a huff, and “That was fun.”

When he got to his feet again, he stood beneath the hole, watching Y/N, still hesitant. “Come on Babe, I got you.” He held out his arms, and she began to slowly scale the tower, and pull herself through the hole. Eddie could see her tense, as gravity began to take over, and she fell, but strong arms were waiting to catch her.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, and is met with Eddie’s beaming smile, as he holds her. “Hey, Pretty Girl.” Was all he said. Fuck, she was warm, and soft, and holding her felt as natural as breathing, although he did have to will the blood flow back to his upper body, an awkward boner was the last thing he needed at this moment. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think seriously about, and desperately want to, take her back to his room in that moment.

Y/N smiled at him, taking his breath away, before letting out a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Are you gonna put her down?” Erica’s blunt question broke the pair out of their brief moment, and Eddie thought he might have seen a flash of a blush, cross Y/N’s cheeks, as he set her back on her feet.

--------------------

Taglist:

@bohemianrhapsody86

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@a-time-for-wolvess

@ghosttownwherenoonegoes

@friendly-neighborhood-ghoul

@sweetpeapod

@emotionaldreamer

@crazyjenny8675309

@rydellakurancarson

Header credit goes to the fabulous, @sweetpeapod 💙

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x plus size reader #plus size #plus size reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #joe quinn #joseph quinn

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emotionalcadaver · 1 year

Text

Part 10: Red Right Hand

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Tommy makes his thoughts on singing at the Garrison more than clear, and a situation develops with Danny Whizz-Bang.

Word Count: 3,477

Notes: Warnings for depictions of blood, smut, drug use, PTSD, and violence.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

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Chapter 3: Singing in the Garrison

“Are they singing?” Lucy gawked, eyes widening at the sounds emitting from the Garrison. Tommy’s eyes narrowed, shoving open the doors with a slight creak. The moment they stepped inside, with their obvious caps and her hair, bright as a beacon, everyone in the bar quieted, turning away to their drinks.

Well, everyone except for one.

Grace remained standing straight, eyes focused straight ahead on Lucy and Tommy. There was a quiet defiance in her eyes, and something else, too. Like she was assessing them as she finished singing her song.

She really did have a very beautiful voice. The kind that could make you cry, if she wanted you to. Tommy was leaning against one of the pub’s golden beams, eyes wide and focused firmly on Grace. Lucy smirked and elbowed him lightly.

Once the song was over, Grace’s eyes darted somewhat nervously about, as if realizing that she had just done something taboo. Harry approached Tommy very, very cautiously.

“We haven’t had singing in here since the war,” he commented with a shaky smile. Tommy looked at him with a face like stone, cold and unmoving.

“Why do you think that is, Harry?” his eyes snapped back to Grace, who looked down at her shoes. Great. Now he’d gone and hurt her feelings.

“Buzzkill,” Lucy whispered in his ear as they made their way towards the snug.

“I don’t like singing,” he grumbled.

“Yes, love, I think you made that abundantly clear.”

He shot her a look that was about as close to apologetic as she knew she was going to get. Sliding into a seat across from him, she pulled a stack of cards from her pocket.

“You can make it up to me by letting me kick your ass at poker.”

Settling into a seat across from her, he snorted. But his smile was fond as she started to deal out the cards.

They were just starting to play their first hand when the door to the snug opened, Grace stepping in with a bottle of whiskey and some glasses clutched in her hands. She set them down silently on the table, not meeting either of their eyes.

“Hullo, again,” Lucy smiled at her, unable to help herself. Grace finally looked up at her, eyes a shade darker blue than Tommy’s, but no less beautiful.

“Hello, Miss. Winters.”

“Just ‘Lucy’ is fine, Grace,” shooting a look at Tommy, who was very pointedly staring at his cards, she rolled her eyes at his rudeness. “How are you settling in?”

“Oh, um, good. Good. Harry’s been very welcoming.”

“Good,” nodding, she glanced back at her cards. “We’ll let you get back to work, then. Thanks for the whiskey.”

Grace looked for a moment like she wanted to say more, looking nervously over at Tommy. But she evidently thought better of it; closing her mouth and just offering Lucy and little nod and a tiny smile before disappearing out the door. As soon as it was closed, Lucy gave Tommy a light kick under the table.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You could at least try to be nice.”

“Ugh,” he grunted, making a face like the idea was entirely foreign to him.

“You were nice to me when I first showed up here.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

Finally looking up from his cards, he sighed, setting them face down onto the table. “Well, for one, I had copious background checks done on you before we even spoke,” the smoke from his cigarette rose and twisted within the air. Lucy waited for him to say more, eyebrows raising when he didn’t.

“And two?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘for one.’ What was the other reason?”

When he blinked, it was slow, like a cat. “You know why.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, trying to hide it with a smirk. “Aw, Tom. Were you smitten with me?”

“You’re infuriating, you know that?” he grumbled, with absolutely zero bite or conviction behind his words. If anything he looked like he was fighting back a smile as he scooped his cards back up again. Lucy cackled gleefully.

“Me!? You’re the one who’s grumpy and scowling all the time,” she nudged his shin with the toe of her shoe lovingly.

“Okay, you know what? I was gonna be nice and let you win–” he ignored her indignant squawk at that, “but now I think I’ll take all your money and make you walk home.”

She giggled. “Your threats are empty, Shelby,” they both knew he’d never leave her to walk home alone in the dark.

“Just play your fucking hand, Lucy,” but he was making that face that meant he was biting the side of his mouth to keep from laughing.

Still giggling, she tossed her cards onto the table, opening the bottle of whiskey and pouring two glasses.

Neither of them was really able to help the glances that they kept shooting towards the door Grace had disappeared through.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Oh,” Lucy moaned, gripping tight to his shoulders, face pressing into the side of his head. Tommy growled, the hand on her bare thigh squeezing as he felt her walls fluttering around his cock. He held her tight, thrusting into her deeply and making the bed beneath them squeal in protest. Her nails scraped pleasantly along his skin, and in retaliation he nipped lightly at her shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

As if he’d ever want to. She felt so good it made his head spin; so wet and tight around him, the little sounds she was desperately trying to keep quiet only spurring him on.

Her walls squeezed around him even tighter when he slightly adjusted the angle of his thrusts, so that with every stroke he was rubbing right up against the spot that made her eyes roll into the back of her head.

Tommy watched in wonderment as her beautiful face contorted, head falling back with her eyes closed, mouth opening in a moan. And then her walls were squeezing around him in a vice grip, orgasm gushing out around him, and he couldn’t keep back his own groan of pleasure. Pressure was building in his balls, tingles shooting up and down his shaft while the head of his cock swelled. Wrapping both arms around Lucy, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing his mouth to her neck to muffle his groan as he finally snapped his hips forward one last time into her, holding himself there as he came explosively inside her.

Lucy made a happy little sound in the back of her throat, clinging to him tightly while he finished. Every one of his instincts was aching and begging for him to get somehow closer and deeper into her.

As if he wanted to merge them into a single being.

Final shockwaves of pleasure leaving his body, Tommy sighed pleasantly, lifting his head from where it was still nestled in the crook of Lucy’s neck. Her green eyes were heavy-lidded, satisfied and sleepy.

“Mm,” with a little hum, she rested her hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing his cheekbone. Tommy leaned into it, the coolness of her hand soothing against his warm skin. When he ran his fingertips across her lips, she turned her head to kiss them, then angled her head to caress his lips with hers, feather-soft.

He pulled out of her gingerly, wincing at the sensation on his now oversensitive cock, adjusting himself to lay beside her. The bed was so tiny that they were still squished together, Tommy’s arms remaining looped around her while she laid her head on his chest.

“Should get cleaned up, soon,” she mumbled, still sounding a little pleasure-drunk.

“Yes,” Tommy agreed, though neither of them made any such movements. They were both a little bit of a mess, hair rumpled, clothes tossed all over the room, and the bedsheets half thrown to the floor.

They laid there for a long time, the silence comfortable around them, until finally Lucy made a face and sat up.

“Right, seriously. Before I fall asleep.”

Tommy fought not to pout as she rolled over to give him a quick, not-quite innocent kiss before slipping out of his arms. Sitting up, he watched her move about the room, grabbing clothes and folding them carefully.

“I can do that,” he offered, pushing himself up. Lucy shot him a grateful look, pulling her knickers back on and stealing his shirt from where it was deposited on the floor near the window.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, stretching up on her toes to kiss him, pulling his shirt on and opening the door a crack, peeking out and then tip-toeing into the hall towards the washroom.

Sighing, Tommy set to work collecting the remainder of Lucy’s clothes, folding them meticulously and setting them in a stack on the dresser. He pulled back on his underwear and trousers, taking a clean undershirt from a drawer. He knew better than to try to get back the one Lucy had just nabbed. It wouldn’t be until laundry day that he would have the chance to steal it back from her.

Finished dressing and tidying, he pulled out the little kit hidden under his pillow, opening it slowly.

The door made an almost inaudible creek as Lucy snuck back in, closing it behind her with a click. She rolled her eyes fondly at the sight of him once again almost completely dressed, but kissed his cheek with a smile, sitting down next to him and cuddling into his side.

The match snapped as he struck it, carefully holding the flame to the wick until it caught. With careful, controlled movements, he unrolled the pipe from the fabric he kept it wrapped in. He rolled the little brown dollop of the drug between his fingers, hooking it carefully onto the pin before holding it over the flame until it smoked. Then it was settled into its spot in the pipe, a steady line of smoke still rising from it, the scent filling the small room. Settling on his side, he took a long, slow drag from the pipe, letting the smoke fill his lungs and his mind.

“Can I have a hit?” already, Lucy’s voice sounded very abstract and far away. He just nodded, passing the pipe to her. She took a lazy drag from it and handed it back, settling in beside him in the tiny bed. Tommy sighed as she curled up against his back, an arm falling to wrap loosely around his waist. As she began to drift off, she mumbled something about how him sleeping with his shoes on was an affront to God.

“You don’t believe in God,” he grumbled back.

“Still.”

Sleep pulled him under before he could come up with a response.

The dream was the same as it always was. The tunnel. The shovels against the walls. Danny and Freddie beside him. Screaming. Blood bursting underneath his hands.

He woke with a gasp, sitting up straight and panting. His face was sweaty when he rubbed his hands over his eyes. A pained sound left his lips. Something between a whimper and a groan. He wasn’t even sure how long he had actually managed to sleep for.

The sound of voices, outside, alerted him. He stretched across the bed to pull back the curtain. It was just two coppers, chattering to each other as they walked down the street. Taking a deep breath, his heart still pounding in his chest, he laid down slowly back on the bed.

“Tommy?” Lucy stirred, likely roused from all the moving.

“Sorry, love. I’m all right,” he whispered. She shifted, tugging on his shoulder until he turned to face her. They should have gone to her flat, instead of his. Her bed was much more comfortable.

His lashes fluttered as she cupped his clammy cheek with her small hand. She never pressured him to talk about it; and she already knew what haunted him in his dreams, just as he knew what it was that had her sometimes waking up beside him, screaming and clawing at phantom enemies.

“Come here,” she coaxed, pulling him closer until his head was settled against her chest, arms looped over his shoulders. A sigh left his lips, the smell of her perfume enough to lull him. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back to sleep, but at the very least he was comfortable and content there. Her fingers ran carefully up and down his back. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling closer to her.

“��Kay. Just try to relax, love,” her eyes slipped closed as she settled back against the bed. “And take off your damn shoes,” she complained a moment later. That drew a breathless laugh from his lips, shoes falling off the end of the bed with two loud thumps as he kicked them off.

“There. Happy?”

“Mhm,” she purred in approval. And with her fingers running lazily through his hair, he let sleep claim him once more.

∗ ∗ ∗

Stepping away from his conversation with Charlie, he headed for the stables. Lucy was cooing quietly to the chestnut horse in one of the stalls, stroking her nose and feeding sugar cubes to her from her palm.

��How’d it go?” she asked as he moved to stand beside her, hand reaching out to stroke Sin’s red fur.

“Fine.”

The look she gave him was deeply knowing. “You’ve decided to keep the guns.”

“How do you know that? I didn’t know until just now.”

She shrugged. “Could see it in your eyes,” clearing her throat, she sighed. “We have a problem,” her voice was solemn. He raised an eyebrow. Giving Sin one last pat on the flank, she turned to him, shoving her hands into her pockets. “I just heard from our people in Little Italy. This afternoon, Danny Whizz-Bang killed a waiter outside a restaurant. He was having one of his attacks, the waiter came at him with a knife, things got out of hand…it wasn't intentional,” she jerked her head, to toss some hair out of her face. “But the man he killed had brothers who are in with the Italians. So…”

“So they’re threatening war?”

“Unless we deliver Danny Whizz-Bang to them.”

“Fuck,” he rubbed a hand down his face. Sin whinnied, as if sensing his distress. He stroked a hand absentmindedly through her thick mane. Danny was his friend. His comrade. Yes, the man was an undeniable mess, but that didn’t change what they’d gone through together, trapped down there in the tunnels, deep under the ground…

Maybe that was why he could never bring himself to truly discipline Danny, despite his constant public outbursts. Lucy stroked his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should have done more to get him help.”

“How?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to come up with an answer for her, running his hand once along the stripe of white fur that covered Sin’s nose.

“Do you think the Italians would accept it being me that does it?”

Lucy blinked. “I–maybe. I could get the word out to them, see if they’d be open to it.”

“Good. Do that.”

“Tommy…”

“Wait,” he said, turning to grasp her shoulders. Lucy looked up at him with worried jewel green eyes. “Just…listen to my plan, first, eh? I have an idea.”

Her brows furrowed, but he could see it, in her eyes. Always so trusting. So loyal. He couldn’t even begin to consider how thankful he was for her. How when everyone else was pushing against him, or questioning him, she was there, in his corner.

“Okay.”

∗ ∗ ∗

The fog had settled thickly over the bank along the river. Across the water, the two Italians stared at her intensely. One held a cigar in his hand. The other had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Lucy forced herself not to break eye contact, back leaned against a barrel. For all appearances the figure of casual nonchalance despite the tensing in her muscles. She only looked away at the sound of Tommy and Danny’s footsteps. Tommy was speaking softly, while Danny kept his head hung low, clutching his hat to his chest.

“If I let the Italians do this, Danny, they’ll cut off your manhood and let you drain. That’s how those bastards do things.”

Pot, meet kettle, Mr. Shelby. She had to hide her snort. Though, she supposed, it wasn’t completely hypocritical. He just always had her do the castrating for him.

Lucy looked away to the ground, only half listening as Danny and Tommy continued to speak with each other.

And then Danny was looking to the sky.

“I suppose I ought to pray now.”

Oh, honey. Didn’t he know that it was not God that had looked after him all this time?

Danny gave Tommy his final requests, and they shook hands. Danny smiled, pulled his hat on, and turned his back to Tommy, so he was facing the river. The boat Charlie was seated in was just beginning to drift past them. The gun glinted in the sun as Tommy pulled it from his coat, clicking as it cocked.

“In the bleak midwinter.”

There was a long stretch of silence, and then the gun cracked, echoing as it was fired. Danny fell forward, to crumple in the center of the boat. Blood and brains splattered across Tommy’s face. The two Italians looked at each other and nodded, walking away to disappear into the fog. Tommy holstered his gun and turned, stepping away from the bank. Lucy straightened and moved to follow him.

“Here,” she handed him a handkerchief, and he grimaced as he wiped away the sheep’s brains sticking to his face.

“Ugh.”

“How’s it smell?”

“Not great.”

She took the handkerchief from him, grasping his chin as she wiped at a spot on his forehead that he missed. “There.”

“Thank you.”

“You think they bought it?”

“We better hope so,” he began walking towards the exit of the yard. “Your brother is still willing to host him while he’s in London?”

“Yeah. He’s got a spare room. Said it’s no trouble, really.”

“Tell him I said thank you.”

“Already did,” she looped her arm with his. They shared a cigarette as they walked back to the betting shop, the door creaking as Tommy shoved it open and led her inside. He went to a table, throwing open a book, flattening his hands on the desk, hunching over it with an exhausted sigh. Lucy patted his shoulder, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on a hook, heading into their office and collapsing into the chair at her little desk. She could faintly hear Arthur bursting in, shouting something about Monaghan Boy winning the race. Just like Tommy had planned. She didn’t pay it much mind, unlocking one of the drawers in her desk and pulling out the documents inside, eyes scanning over them quickly as she set to work. Tommy vanished for a while, probably to go talk to Polly. Her pen scratched against the paper as she wrote down notes.

“What do you think of all of this?”

She looked up to find Arthur watching her with narrowed eyes, leaning against the doorframe.

“About what?”

“Him fixing races.”

Lucy shrugged, looking back down at her paperwork. “Tommy knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s going to bring Billy Kimber’s wrath down on all our heads.”

“We can handle Kimber.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Tommy has a strategy.”

There was a long pause. “He tells you things that he doesn’t tell the rest of us,” there was a bitterness in Arthur’s voice. Lucy shrugged, putting the remaining papers back in the drawer and locking it before standing.

“Maybe, instead of being angry with me, you lot should take a moment to consider why that is,” she squeezed past him and out the door, heading for the kitchen. Arthur didn’t follow her.

Tommy and Polly were talking in the kitchen. Whisking past them as she pulled on her coat, she ventured into the sitting room. A moment later Tommy followed her, and they stepped out the door and into the night. Soot hung heavily in the air, like snowflakes. Lights illuminated from the Garrison as they passed it, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoing from within. Lucy glanced to the side and promptly elbowed Tommy lightly in the ribs until he followed her gaze to where Grace was standing outside the pub. A red sweater was pulled over her shoulders, her golden hair like a halo illuminated in the otherwise dreary, gray scenery. Glancing away from the man she was conversing with, the barmaid’s eyes caught theirs. And for a moment the three of them gazed silently at each other.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

#tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #fanfiction #red right hand #my fanfiction #tommy shelby x grace burgess x oc #tommy shelby x grace burgess #lucy winters x tommy shelby x grace burgess #grace burgess #grace burgess x oc #grace burgess x lucy winters

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highpriestessarchives · 1 year

Text

Knight Meets Writer

A/N: These are just drabbles from my DR. Context - I’m an Eternal similar to the Fates in Greek mythology that was sorta kicked out and continued to live my life on Earth. I went by different names over time and spent my years writing. Powers include manipulating strings of fate and seeing bits and pieces of the past and future.

Word count: 3304

Warnings: none? slight angst ig

Summary: how I first met Steve and Bucky

I forced a closed-lipped smile through a bite of my cinnamon roll. All I wanted was a peaceful afternoon to write, but a girl could dream. I only got a sentence and a half out before some guy grabbed the seat in front of me and snagged my journal from me. Eddie Frank, the football player that dozed off or made too much noise in our history class. He’d make his opinions on women in higher education abundantly clear, but he’d also made his interest in me transparent..

The irony didn’t escape me. I was less than one hundred years from hitting seven thousand years old, which meant I had more college degrees than anyone around. History, biology, criminal justice—hey, I had to fill my time with something. Going by a new identity meant rebuilding that reputation over and over again. Not that I minded too much. I loved learning, and I got to move around and study in different places.

Being as old as I was also meant that I had zero patience for children like Eddie Frank. I swallowed the bite of my pastry and reached over to grab my journal back, but he was faster.

“You know, I always wonder what you’re scribbling in there,” he said, casually flipping through the pages.

“None of your business, Eddie!” I reached over the table to try and grab it again, but he pulled his arm back, knocking it straight onto a passerby.

I let out a disgruntled cry as my journal fell to the floor, along with the patron’s coffee. The drink splashed all over my book, and both the passerby and I swore in frustration. If ever I ran into Phastos again, I’d ask for a way to make paper and ink not so easily soiled. There went the likely next best American novel.

The stranger, a short and skinny young man in a suit clearly too big for him, picked up the journal and held it out. Eddie moved to grab it, but the stranger pulled back and looked at me. “Is he bothering you, ma’am?” His voice came out deeper than I expected. Usually, I’d get fed up. Another man trying to come to the rescue. But something about the sincere look in his eyes had me truly believing that he had genuine intentions and wasn’t just trying to make himself look good. Something about him felt familiar, too.

“That’s my book,” I said, nodding to it.

He handed the notebook to me with a tight smile. “Sorry about the coffee.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry you lost your drink. Thank you, uh…”

“Steve.” He held out a hand.

I took it with a smile, finally remembering where I recognized him. “Rogers, right? We’re in American History together. Professor McClain.”

He beamed. “Yeah, I’ve seen you around. Ursula, right?”

Eddie cleared his throat. “Kid, if you couldn’t tell, we’re in the middle of something here.”

Steve noticed my discomfort, his brows drawing together in concern as he looked between us. I pursed my lips. It would be best if he just went on his way and let me handle it. It’d be over soon, anyway.

“I think you’re done here, buddy,” Steve interjected. “Why don’t you let the lady do her work?”

Not like I have anything to work with anymore. I inhaled sharply and gently pushed Steve’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Steve. Don’t—”

Eddie stood up, his chair scratching the floor in a loud protest. He easily shadowed Steve in both height and build, but the latter didn’t shrink at all. “You wanna say that again, punk?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. This could only end up badly. Steve cocked his chin up, refusing to back down. “I said, ‘I think you’re done here.’”

Without another word, Eddie grabbed Steve by the neckline of his collar and dragged him outside and towards a back alley behind the coffee shop. I swore under my breath before piling all of my books into my messenger back and racing out after them. A damp journal could be salvaged, but I didn’t want to imagine how broken Eddie would leave Steve.

By the time I reached them, Steve was already on the floor, wiping at his busted lip. Don’t get back up. Don’t get back up.

He stood up, bracing two arms up to protect his face.

“Didn’t you have enough?” Eddie sneered.

“I can do this all day.” Steve threw a right hook, but faltered, allowing Eddie to knock him aside once more.

“Hey!” another voice rang.

I didn’t stop to check who it was, instead dropping my bag and hurling the hardcover journal right at Eddie’s head. He turned to me, eyes incredulously wide. I didn’t wait for him to say a word before hurling another book from my bag. That one hit his chest. “Leave him alone, Eddie!”

I realized my mistake as he stalked towards me. I couldn’t just materialize a weapon here or use any other sort of magic, not while there could be onlookers. Before he came within a foot from me, someone else pulled him back and threw him against the wall of the building. I looked up at none other than James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s best friend and the university knight in shining armor, as the ladies called him. Unlike Eddie, he didn’t act cocky about it, but I knew a few other girls in my class well enough to know that he also knew them well enough.

“Are we really gonna do this again, Eddie?” James asked, as if bored.

Eddie turned to face him before holding his hands up in a surrender and scampering off. I huffed. Knight in shining armor indeed. He turned to me with a lopsided smile. “Are you alright?”

I nodded and gestured to the books strewn on the ground. “I think I got him more than he got me.”

He chuckled and picked them up. “That you did. You’ve got a nice arm, Ursula.” He handed me the books.

“You know my name?”

He already had his attention on Steve, unable to hear my question. “And what am I gonna do with you?”

“He had it coming,” Steve said before looking at me. “Seriously, are you okay?”

I snorted. “You should see yourself, Rogers.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine.”

“No, come on. Let me at least get you another coffee.”

Steve waved it off, still with a smile despite his bruises and cuts. Bucky blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, what if I take you for coffee sometime?” he asked.

My jaw dropped. Did he just ask me on a date? From the corner of my eye, I saw Steve shake his head, used to his friend’s flirtatious antics. Right, he did this with a lot of women. It could be fun, though. I wanted to say yes, see where it took us, but something about those fate strings urged me to say no. Not now, not the right time. I couldn’t fight it; I never had been able to fight it. Fate wanted what she wanted. I forced a smile, looking at him through my lashes. “Maybe some other time, Barnes.”

With a final nod to them both, I turned away.

I started seeing Steve and Bucky more often around campus, be it in the halls or coming and going from class. It started off with Bucky calling my name whenever he saw me or Steve waving whenever we crossed paths, and then it became a small game of who would spot each other first.

They caught me one moment while I was sitting on a bench at the university plaza. My friend and roommate, Dottie, and I wanted to get some fresh air in between classes and would sit on that stone bench. I’d take the time to just write whatever my brain came up with to declutter all of the class work. When I wrote, I had a habit of getting lost in my own world of characters and adventure, so much so that I didn’t hear the loud, “Ursula!” from across the plaza.

Not until I felt the soft pat of a notebook on my head and looked up to see Bucky with a small pout. “You didn’t hear me, doll.”

I scoffed, softly pushing his arm away, but I couldn’t help the small smile itching my face. “Sorry, James.” I held up my own journal, a new one that I had to buy because the old one was just destroyed with coffee stains. “Writing.”

He tucked his book away in his own bag. “Oh!” Again with that lopsided grin goddammit it. “Can I read some?”

Absolutely not. “You read?” Idiot.

He feigned an offended expression. “Yes, I do! The Hobbit is my favorite.”

Dottie cleared her throat. “Ursula, are you gonna introduce me to your friend?” She had a sparkle in her eyes as she looked between the two of us, clearly bubbling on upset that I didn’t tell her I knew the knight in shining armor.

My cheeks heated up at the slight realization that Bucky—Bucky—enraptured me in my own little world as deftly as my writing did. “Dottie, this is James. James, this is my friend—”

“Dottie!” she held out a hand, which Bucky took. “Tell me. How do you know Ursula?”

I gaped. Before I could say anything, Bucky spoke up. “We had a run in at Amorette’s. Well, more like an alley behind Amorette’s. I was catching up with my friend when I saw her just hurl a book at a guy, and of course my friend was right on the other side of it.”

A hesitant laugh escaped my lips. “It was Eddie.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Bucky held out a cup of coffee. “For you.”

I looked at him quizzically. “Me?”

“Yeah! The lady at the dining hall gave me the wrong kind and Steve is in class, so.”

I set my journal aside and took the coffee. “Thanks, James.” I had to admit that the guy was charming, in his own dorky way. If I were any less stubborn, I’d admit that I had the wrong impression of him. Sure, he had the confidence and suaveness of any guy that looked the way he did, but he didn’t push or brag about himself to get a girl’s attention. Then again, he could have just been acting friendly and wasn’t really trying to flirt or anything. Gods, I couldn’t be misreading the signals, could I? Maybe he took my rejection from the other day and stuck with it. Any decent person would.

“You know you can call me Bucky. Everyone does,” he said, snapping me out of my spiraling train of thought.

I smiled, suddenly feeling shy about calling him by his nickname. “Alright, Bucky.”

“Hey, Bucky!” Steve walked up to his friend, a confused look on his face. “You said you’d be back in twenty minutes after getting that c—”

“Ah-ah!” Bucky quickly covered Steve’s mouth. “I think its time for my next lecture. I’ll see you around, Ursula. Dottie, nice to meet you.”

As he pushed Steve away, Dottie called out, “We’re going out dancing if you guys wanna join! Meet up at Amorette’s at 8?”

“Dottie!” I scolded. We had absolutely no plans to go out.

“Sure!” Bucky called back.

Okay, maybe now I had plans to go out.

The crisp night air pricked my skin, making me wish that I wore some sort of cowl or sweater over this dress. Dottie refused to let me go out in one of my older dresses and instead lent me a teal blue number that scooped around my neckline and flared out with the skirt. I honestly felt like a doll wearing it, but I let myself welcome the dainty and feminine feel of it. I’d worn dresses for millenniums now. This had no reason making me as nervous as I was.

Granted, I knew I was lying to myself. It wasn’t being caught in a dress that had me worried, but the person himself who would catch me in the dress.

I arrived at Amorette’s about fifteen minutes early, hopeful to get a few moments of calm to collect myself. Those hopes were quickly squashed when I saw Bucky already waiting outside the café with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Gods, he looked so handsome in a suit.

Steve wasn't there, and I knew he came up with an excuse to leave us alone just as Dottie did.

At the sound of my footprints, he looked over and smiled. “Evening, beautiful.”

He held out the flowers, which I took gratefully. “Geez, Bucky. First coffee, and now flowers. Are you always spoiling your dates?”

At that, he beamed. “So this is a date?”

“I didn’t say that.” As much as I wanted it to be, I kept squashing those thoughts. James Barnes was as human as it gets—caring, handsome, such a gentleman. He deserved someone that could grow old with him and settle down with him, not someone that needed to change their identity every forty or so years.

This was just one dance, one night out. Who said I couldn’t have a little fun?

Bucky laughed, and I just about melted. “Permission to try to change your mind by the end of the night?” he asked as he held out his arm for me to take.

I wrapped my arm around his. “Permission granted.”

I had more fun than I wanted to admit. Bucky did and said all the right things; I shouldn’t have expected anything less. The moments of silence in between while we danced, or when he’d approach the bar to get us drinks, or even when we laughed at things we’d forget about later, I caught myself wishing and dreaming. Imagining settling in a white picket fence house, getting a golden retriever, writing my next novel while he read the newspaper. I’d never fallen so fast, but I sure tripped face first into this one. Even the vague sentience of the fate strings stirring at my heart seemed to sing at this meeting, at the dancing. How could fate want this? Who would I be to object?

The night went on too fast. When 11:30 hit, Bucky insisted on walking me home, saying that a man never let a lady stay out too long. I told him that he was pushing it there, but I accepted. He’d wrapped his coat around me when he saw me shiver on the walk back to my apartment. As we reached my door, I turned to him. His icy blue eyes rested on mine, both of us unsure how to break the silence or the tension.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Bucky. Thank you,” I finally said. Tell me this is it. We can end it here and you can have fun with other girls dying for your attention. Girls that would age and live life with you rather than longer than you. Break my heart, Barnes.

He wet his lips, looking sheepishly down at his shoes with that charming smile of his. “Yeah, I had a lot of fun, too.”

Neither of us took a step away. Each second passed, I let myself plummet further and further into this feeling. “So, what happens now?”

He quirked an eyebrow up. “How do you mean, Ursula?”

I shrugged, copying his playful smile. “You tell me. How does the knight in shining armor end his dates?”

“Is that what people call me?”

“Oh, yeah. All the ladies look forward to being swooped on by Bucky Barnes himself.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculous nickname. “Well, I won’t swoop on anyone, but usually I leave it up to my date. If she says goodnight and goes straight inside, I take it as they never want to see me again. If they open the door and invite me in, it’s… well.” Bucky raised his eyebrows, hinting at what an extended night meant. “But if she lingers at the door…”

Bucky nodded towards me. I lingered. Realizing the tell, I bit my lip and rested my back against the closed door. He took a step towards me and gently cupped my face in his hand, his thumb caressing my cheek. In a breath, his lips met mine. Even when kissing, Bucky didn’t push. He started off gently, innocent pecks dancing between us. It wasn’t until I parted my lips that he slipped his tongue in. I let out a gasp as I took in his warmth, my hands coming up to wrap around his neck. At a nip on my lower lip, I clutched his hair, and he let out a guttural groan in return. I sighed into the kiss. I wanted more.

The cold washed over me once again when I nearly fell back as Dottie opened the door. “Urs? I heard a thud and though—Oh my God!”

Bucky pulled away, keeping a respectable distance as I tried to hide my surely red face.

“Pretend that didn’t happen! I’m not here!” Dottie slammed the door shut, but the moment was long gone.

I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh, which Bucky joined in on. “Sorry about that,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, doll.”

We gazed at each other, and I wanted that moment back all over again. “Oh!” I began to take off his jacket, only now remembering that I still wore it.

“Keep it,” he said.

My brows knit together. “Your jacket?”

Bucky nodded. “Give it back the next time I see you.”

I cocked my head to the side. “You mean on our next date?”

“So this is a date, then.” He grinned like a little school boy.

I nodded, stifling another laugh. “You got me, Barnes.”

I rotated the diamond ring around my finger. Usually it quelled the hurt rising in my chest, but today, it wouldn’t. I looked at the date circled on my calendar. March 10, 1946. He would have been twenty-nine today. It would have been our fifth anniversary in May. We had a small wedding when we got news of him being drafted—just us, Steve, Dottie, and his parents. He wanted to wait until after he got back from the war, but I knew.

Then, I knew. It wouldn’t be for another seventy three years that I’d see him again. I didn’t know how or why until Steve came back and told Peggy and me that Bucky had fallen from the train. They presumed him dead, but those damned fate strings told me otherwise. I didn’t know which was worse.

I mean, of course I wanted him alive. I wanted so badly for him to come home and for fate to be wrong for once. I hated my magic for everything it was worth from that day forward. For not being able to tell me the full story, for not being able to manipulate it so I could see my husband again.

I swore that day that I would never use them again. I shut that part of me deep, deep down. As they held his memorial, as they gave me his flag, every particle of that magic died with the world’s idea of him. When Steve crashed and I attended his funeral, I ignored the screams of those strings as they attempted to claw me out of that dark place I fell into.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Barnes.”

He’s alive.

“Condolences. Steve was a great man.”

Is. He is a great man.

“If you need anything, Mrs. Barnes—”

I need my husband.

I opened my locket, tears staining the black and white photo of us on our wedding day. “I’ll wait for you, Bucky,” I promised. “I got you.”

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #shifting #reality shift #desired reality #marvel shifting #bucky fluff #bucky angst #steve rogers #captain america #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfic writer #mcu shifting #mcu fanfiction #the first avenger

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sweetsunflowerkisses · 2 years

Text

the thin line - chapter four

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers

chapter summary: Y/N and the Pogues figure out the meaning of Redfield and devise the first of many plans

chapter warnings: mentions of marijuana, cursing, cannon divergence, allusions to addiction

word count: 4.3k

(a/n): this chapter is more of a bridge than anything but it definitely mentions some things that will come back up in the next chapters,, i also explained away some minor plot problems like how we’ve been getting messages… lmao

Somehow, against seemingly all odds, Rafe and I made it back to the country club before John B and the Pogues arrived. I hopped out of his truck, rushing inside, changing as quickly as possible. My phone beeped from the bench beside me just as I finished shoving my work clothes back into my bag.

Notifications

Messages: JOHN B!! :) : I’M HERE

I took one last glance around the locker room, making sure that I had everything before exiting the locker room, and walking down the hall and out to the front lot. There the twinkie was, waiting in all of it’s glory. The side door slid open, revealing JJ and Pope, I quickly got in, seating myself beside Pope as he slid the door back closed.

John B got the van going again fairly quickly as we headed out into the night. On the way to our mystery location I was filled in on the events of the day, particularly the lighthouse, as well as the incredibly awkward kiss shared between Kie and John B.

As we travelled down the dimly lit roads of the cut JJ lit up a joint, offering it to Pope. “I keep the signal clear.” He refused, putting a hand up between him and the joint.

“Dude, Okay.” JJ started, waving the joint around in the air. “Do you understand that your problem is that you don’t get creative? If you got creative then-” JJ was cut off when John B, in a rare moment of above average intelligent decision making, interrupted him.

“Look- I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, alright? And wrong about everything else going on, but I was right about one thing. My dad is trying to tell me something.”

I shifted in my seat, an uncomfortable silence falling over the car. “Jesus christ.” I muttered under my breath, I had really fucked up getting involved in this shit. The uncomfortable silence only lasted for around a minute though, before JJ started on some random tangent, the mood in the vehicle instantly lightening.

As the conversation carried on around me I found myself thinking more and more about the events of the day, specifically my interactions with a particular Kook. For some reason I wanted to talk to him again, get a closer look at him and who he was. And maybe, just maybe, I could actually help him. The idea was far-fetched, I’d be the first to admit it, but it was a possibility, I mean he couldn’t be all bad right?

My thoughts were cut short as I felt a slight tap on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to find Pope, only to be met with a pair of painfully familiar blue eyes. He said nothing, simply holding out the joint, a peace offering in the form of something to smoke, for the second time that day.

I took the joint from his fingers, carefully inhaling, relishing in the feeling of the smoke in my lungs, exhaling slowly, before passing it back. His face was unreadable, blue eyes swimming with something deep and unknown. I turned back, beginning to feel the creeping tug of guilt in the pit of my stomach.

Why was I feeling guilty? I wondered to myself, was it because of Rafe? I knew how JJ felt about the Kook king, I had known for years, before everything between us came crashing down, and I knew it just the same now, his blatant display of anger the other night having made it abundantly clear that those feelings of hatred for the Cameron boy never dissipated.

When the car finally stopped and the five of us piled out of teh van like we were the members of Mystery Inc. I let out a groan as I saw where we ended up.

“A graveyard? Seriously John B, are you about to murder us?”

John B rolled his eyes, passing out flashlights to us and turning on an incredibly outdated and old fashioned looking handheld lamp. “Very funny Y/N.”

“Just saying, this feels very much like I’m gonna end up with an axe in the back of my head.” I switched on the flashlight John B gave me, shining it around the graveyard cautiously.

We made our way down a dirt path, following in the footsteps of our ever fearless leader, JB.

“This place is scary.” Kie said, stepping over loose branches and fallen leaves.

“I agree. One hundred percent the start to a horror film.” I said, nearly tripping over air. I could hear JJ laughing from behind me but I simply threw my middle finger over my shoulder in response.

“Would you guys shut up for like five seconds?” John B asked. “Look, You know how sometimes you’re trying to remember a song and you can’t remember who sings it?”

“Yeah?” Kie said, clearly confused on where this was going.

“So, Redfield, This whole time I thought it was a place right? But it’s not a place.” John B stopped, shining his lamp towards the top of a mausoleum, and there in large stone letters, REDFIELD. “It’s a person.”

“I’ve gotta say JB, this is not what I was expecting…” I said, trailing off as I backed up slightly, trying to get a better look at the building.

“Redfield was the maiden name of my great-great grandmother.” John B said, an air of confidence and triumph about him.

Kie and stepped back as John B enlisted the boys' help in attempting to move the door. However it became clear quite quickly that the door was not moving, even more so when a snake slithered it’s way out of one of the cracks.

“That’s a moccasin alright!” JJ shouted, his headlight following the snake’s path in the grass. “Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth! Death in tall grass!” Suddenly the idiotic blonde dropped to a squat, barking like a dog at the snake.

“What the fuck Maybank. Shut it, you’re gonna get us caught!” I said with a groan.

“Oh we’ll be fine L/N, relax for five fucking minutes.” He said, beginning to bark at the grass again, the snake definitely having disappeared by now.

“JJ, seriously shut up.” Kie said, Pop backing her up by pulling him up lightly.

“You’re gonna wake the dead, man.” Pope said.

“They’re afraid of dogs guys, everyone knows that!” It looked, for a moment, like JJ was done, until he moved closer to the mausoleum again. “Wait, wait- If there’s one there’s probably dozens.”

“Shut up JJ, you’re scaring Kie.” I said, giving the blonde a firm stare. JJ simply rolled his eyes, turning his head back to the stone and barking at it again. “Stop fucking barking at snakes!” I said, tugging him back harshly by his shirt collar. He looked stunned for a second, face illuminated by the headlamp, before his jaw set into a deep scowl.

“The door isn’t going anywhere guys.” Pope said, a definitive tone to his voice. “We should probably leave before things get worse than us seeing a snake.”

I nodded, opening my mouth to agree with Pope’s incredibly rational line of thought, only to be met with the sound of Kiara’s voice.

“I can get through.”

There was a chorus of ‘what?’ around the group as we all looked at the curly haired girl. I looked in the direction her flashlight was pointing to, the hole formed by the years of low maintenance in focus of the light.

“No, no, no-” John B shook his head, “You think you're gonna fit through the hole? That hole?” He shined his own light on the hole, accenting how small it was.

“Look,” Kie sighed, “This is about your dad. And honestly, I really don't believe in it, but you deserve to know the truth.” There was a pregnant pause, and Kie nodded. “I’ll do it.”

We all moved in closer to the stone building, intent on helping Kie in her mission to crawl through the hole. “Can you help me with that?” She asked, Pope complying, lifting the vines out of the way of the hole, John B moving in to help him.

“I’ll give her a boost.” JJ said, pressing his back to the wall, “I’ve seen it in the movies before I got this.” He said with a smirk, pressing his hands together to create a base for Kie to stand on.

“What am I looking for again?” She asked, as she prepared to let JJ lift her to the height required to crawl through the hole.

“You’ll know it when you see it.” John B responded. I bit my tongue, holding back a snarky remark, figuring it wasn’t the best time to let my usual sarcasm run its course.

“Hold my flashlight.” Kie said, holding it out to me, I took it with a smile, wishing her a small piece of good luck. I watched as JJ instructed Kie on how to lift herself up properly, so that he could help her into the hole. He lifted her up and I held my breath, only breathing out when I heard her from inside. “Okay, flashlight?”

I stepped up, passing the thin metal tube of light through the open hole. “Here.”

She took it and I could hear her shuffling around the inside. “You alive?” John B asked, “You got, like, a heartbeat and everything?”

“So far.”

“That's good. That’s good.”

“Uhm- I need more light!” She said, I moved towards the hole again, taking the lantern from John B and passing it through the hole to her. She was silent for a moment, JJ asking if she had found anything.

“Oh my god.” She said. The words pierced through the air like a knife, freezing us all in place as we waited for her to say something more.

Suddenly out from the hole came the lantern and a white packet.

“Well, it’s not gold but it’s something I guess.” I said as I took the lantern in my hands, handing the packet to John B.

“Holy shit.” The boy said, running his fingers over the dusty fedex mailer. As the boys gathered around the packet I turned back to the hole, helping Kie climb back out. “This is from my dad.” I heard John B say from behind me. Kie and I looked over at him, smiles finding their way onto our faces.

“Uh guys-” JJ said, the smoke from a joint he held, blowing themselves over to where we stood. “Code red. Code red! Square groupers, Square groupers!” He rushed past me, hand gripping my wrist as he pulled me along with him, the others running behind us. We rounded the corner of the mausoleum, pressing our backs to the wall.

“Lights! Lights!” I hissed, shutting off the ones in my hands, motioning for the others to do the same. JJ rushed to put out his joint, forgetting the light on his head. I groaned, reaching up, turning it off for him. “Seriously JJ!” I asked.

I could hear the so called ‘square groupers’, pulling up, conversing with one another. JJ poked his head out from the side of the wall. “Is it them?” I asked, moving to look around the corner with him.

“Homie’s got a gun.” JJ whispered, his hand, which in the adrenaline filled moment hadn’t left my wrist tightened slightly. It was this action that led me to remember that it was there and I tugged it away harshly, trying my best to avoid slipping like I had with the nickname, forcing myself to remember that I hated JJ Maybank.

“Fuck this shit.” I said, turning to Kie who was crouched on my other side. “I say we run.” She nodded and the five of us took off again, lights on again as we ran for the gate ahead. Kie went up over the stone wall first, John B after her and then JJ, leaving Pop and I for last. I went up over the brick, Pope deciding to try his luck with the gate. I landed successfully on the other side, watching as Pope struggled with the gate, getting caught on the Iron spikes.

“Guys, I’m stuck.” Pope called, with an uneasy tone in his voice.

“Oh fuck.” I said, trying to figure out how I could best help the boy in front of me.

Kie rushed to my side, attempting to help me get Pope down, the both of us missing JJ pulling the gun out behind us. Kie and I grabbed Pope’s shirt, pulling him with as much strength as we could manage. “Guys, guys, you’re gonna rip me!” Pope cried anxiously. He was right of course, a tearing sound following seconds later as he tumbled to the ground.

We quickly rushed back to the twinkie, JJ barely missing a beat with his usual humour, making fun of Pope’s now semi-nude state. We all climbed back in, rushing off without a second’s hesitation.

—

Spirits were high by the time our little group made it back to the chateau, JJ having gone to fix himself a sandwich with questionable bread while the rest of us crowded around John B’s table and lamp, eager to find out what was inside the packet left behind by big John.

JJ stood behind me taking a bite out of his sandwich as John B tore open the packet. I could hear him gagging on the bread, and let out a light laugh.

“Pope did tell you eating that bread was a bad fucking idea didn’t he? And look who turned out to be right.”

“You know what,” JJ started, then there was silence followed by the distinct sound of someone biting down on something. I turned around so fast I was surprised I didn’t have whiplash, eyes widening in surprise as I watched JJ chew and swallow a piece of the sandwich. “Fuck you Y/N.” He said cringing and moving back to the kitchen to throw out the sandwich.

Pope laughed next to me, as did Kie, staring at the blonde in awe. “Wow, you must really hate her if you were willing to take it that far.” Pope joked. I simply rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the packet and John B, choosing to ignore the remark JJ made back to Pope.

“So JB, what’s in the package?” I said, watching him unfold the paper, placing it down on the table in front of him. I leaned in slightly, trying to see the map better.

“Holy shit.” John B said, letting out a breath, smoothing his hand over the map again, almost checking to see if it was real.

“X marks the spot I guess.” Pope said, pointing to a spot on the map that was marked with a sharpied X.

“Longitude and latitude.” John B traced his fingers over the lines of the map,only to stop abruptly. “Wait,” He started, moving the map, grabbing the fedex package again. “There’s something else in there.” He reached in, pulling out a small tape recorder, flipping it over in his hands.

“What is that?” JJ asked.

Kie sighed, looking at him. “It’s a tape recorder dumbass.”

John B clicked the play button on the side and I let out a gasp as I heard Big John’s voice for the first time in two years. All of the memories of my time spent with the people in front of me rushing back to the forefront of my brain.

There was a mix of emotions on everyone's faces as we listened to the recording. Confusion, suspicion, longing, sadness. It was all very overwhelming and I placed a hand on John B’s shoulder, hoping it could provide him some semblance of hope in this moment. The recording revealed that Big John had found the royal merchant, and he urged us to go for the gold, simply reminding John B that he loved him and telling him that he’d see him on the other side.

There was a moment of silence as the recording ended, John B got up, moving to the kitchen threshold, pressing himself against it as he let out a cry. JJ celebrating the fact that Big John had actually done it. I smacked his arm, as Kie reprimanded him, bringing him back to reality and the situation at hand. Pope and I looked at each other and then to Kie and she moved to comfort John B.

We eventually moved to the dock as things cooled down, JJ skipping rocks as Kie played her ukelele.

“How much was it again?” JJ asked, throwing another rock.

“Four hundred mil.” Pope answered flatly.

“Alright, let’s talk about the split, and before we say evenly, may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who are after us. Protection? Not cheap, okay.”

Pope rolled his eyes, “You haven’t trained. You’ve done zero training.”

“Pope’s right Maybank, if anything it’s more costly to the rest of us to have you wielding that thing because it’s a crime if you get caught with it not because it’s protection.” I said, looking at him pointedly.

“Okay, Pope, Youtube exists bro, that’s at least a five percent bump right there. And L/N- I-” He started but clenched his jaw when he realised he didn’t really have a response.

“What are you planning on doing with your 80 mil Pope?” Kie asked, looking over at the boy next to me.

“Pay for college in advance. And, also textbooks. Those are expensive.”

Kie looked at him, a mix of confusion and judgement written across her face. “What about you Kie?” JJ asked.

Pope laughed a little, and so did I. “Yeah what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” Pope questioned, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Kie laughed and then shrugged. “I just wanna make a double album. About OBX, the pogues. Y’know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it at Marley studio, Peter Tosh producing.”

“Peter Tosh is dead.” Pope said, confused.

“Yeah, are you paying for a spirit summoning in there somewhere?” I giggled.

“Something like that. I believe that the spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.” She said, lifting her can, the rest of us following suit. “What about you Y/N?”

I bit my lip, thinking for a moment, this was 80 mil what would I do? “I think I’d fix up the house, or move to the eight, get my dad and sister some good rehab and then spend the rest on all the useless shit I’ve always wanted.” I said, smiling softly. “Y'know, live the kook life.”

“I’d do the same.” JJ said. “Get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full kook.”

“Both of you are planning on going full kook?” Pope asked with a laugh, “Better hope you guys aren’t neighbours then.”

I laughed, and surprisingly so did JJ. “I’m thinking about a marble statue, of myself of course, to fit in with the other Kooks. And a Koi pond too, put the little fish in it and everything.” He said, gesturing into the open air with his hands.

“I hope you both know I’ll never visit either of you.” Kie said with a laugh, taking a sip of her drink.

“What about you JB?” Pope asked, turning towards the one member of the group who had remained particularly silent through this all.

He turned looking us all over, licking his lips slightly before smiling a little. “To going full kook.”

“To going full kook!!” The rest of us cheered, all crashing our drinks together. Maybe getting involved in this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

—

It was five days later when we all met up again. We had decided that laying low was probably the best course of action for us all, as, if it really was the square groupers that night at the graveyard then it was highly likely that they would be waiting for us to make our move in the following days. So we waited.

In that time I had stayed away from the pogues for the most part, hanging with them all separately but avoiding them as a group to avoid JJ, the feeling of his hand on my wrist having burned itself into my brain.

In the time in between hanging with John B, Pope and Kie I found myself pulling shifts as much as I could. Rafe Cameron somehow showing up everytime, sitting himself in my section and staying there for my whole shift. Luckily he hadn’t kidnapped me since the other day but I was definitely weary of him pulling a stunt like that again.

I had also gained a new job from hanging out with Pope again, his father having needed a new Cashier after one quit. He had known me from the years prior and knew I was a reliable worker, and was glad to offer it to me when he saw Pope and I hanging out.

Five days after the graveyard night I got the text from John B. We were going to investigate the coordinates on Big John’s map up at the island club. It was the easiest place to access wifi considering that JJ and I both worked there, though thankfully in some strange twist of fate we never had worked a shift together once in the two years that we had worked here.

“Keep an eye out guys, we’re behind enemy lines here.” JJ said as we pulled up.

I rolled my eyes at the statement. “We literally work here JJ, not much we have to keep an eye out for besides Christie trying to rope us into an impromptu shift.”

He ignored me, instead busying himself with checking the clip on the gun.

“Put that thing back JJ.” John B said, looking nervously at the gun.

“Why? We can’t be too careful.”

Pope groaned, leaning up against the passenger side door, looking at JJ. “Hey, I predict that bringing a weapon-”

“One that doesn’t belong to us and that came from a sketchy motel.” I interjected.

“-yes, exactly, bringing it into a four star hotel, will likely cause more problems than they solve.”

Kie climbed back into the van, hovering in between JJ and John B. “I swear, I’m going to throw that thing into the ocean, JJ. Put it back.”

She exited the van again, sliding the door shut as John B took the gun from JJ and stuck it in the glove compartment.

“You can’t grab a gun like that.” JJ complained, reaching for his badge and exiting the car. “Can’t forget my badge. Professional Busboy.” He said, dangling the card from his fingers.

“So where are we going now?” John B questioned, pulling on his bag as he followed JJ and I into the building.

“We’re getting on the internet because only rich people have access to the internet, while the rest of us live off of text and call only plans, and we can’t access the internet that we may have from WiFi due to the fact that rich people are the only ones with electricity right now.”

“For real.” I groaned. “I’ve been charging my phone at work since we have no power at home.”

We made our way through the back, through the kitchen, stopping to say hello to Mama L and the waitstaff.

“Kooks don’t miss a beat huh.” JJ said as he looked around the club.

“Yup, gotta love backup generators.” I said.

Eventually we found ourselves in the computer room, Pope logging on and plugging in the coordinates from Big John’s map. We all crowded around, anxiousness radiating off of us all as we waited for the computer to show us where the Royal Merchant was.

“Boom continental shelf, right there.” John B said, looking at the screen.

“Well,” Pope said, turning to look at John B, “If it’s off the deep end, it’s not going to be much of a treasure hunt is it?”

The map slowly zoomed in on the red point more and more, Pope whispering words of hope and encouragement as the computer did it’s thing. I suddenly felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I backed up slightly, removing it and unlocking it. Opening up the notification centre.

Notifications

Messages: R. Cameron: so its the kinda day where u slum it with the other lowlifes from the cut

My head snapped up instantly, looking around the room cautiously the others continuing the conversation, only catching bits and pieces such as the fact that it was on the high side.

Me: how did u know.

The typing bubble popped up, disappearing for a moment before another message came ringing through.

R. Cameron : saw u from the bar.

I was getting ready to type a response when two fingers appeared in front of my face, snapping loudly to get my attention. “Hey, focus up.” JJ said.

“Oh yeah. You said it’s on the high side. Can we pull that off?”

JJ nodded. “If you’d been paying attention you would have heard me mention that the salvage yard has an underwater drone that can hit that. We can get it today, from the impound lot.”

“Awesome, let’s get to it then. The future of us getting each of our hands on 80 mil seems to rest upon it.”

Pope sprung up from his chair, blocking the door. “Nope, Nope.”

“Pope.” I said, drawing out the e, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. “It’s 400 mil, 80 for each of us.”

He sighed, JJ and Kie moving him out of the way as we exited the building. “Can’t we do anything legal for money.” He groaned.

“We’re pogues hun, illegal is practically our middle name.” I said with a smile, dragging him out with us, John B shutting the door behind us.

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gamblerslove · 3 years

Text

As promised, here’s some more spicy Gi-hun content 🧡 I went for a slight canon rewrite to better suit the tone of the fic. Hope you enjoy!

Warning for smut and minor spoilers for squid game eps 7–9!

Summary: With six games behind you and billions of won in your pockets, you and Gi-hun decided it was time to celebrate.

Seong Gi-hun X f!reader: Victory

As soon as you heard the limousine door slide shut and the engine coming to life, your hands fumbled for Gi-hun in the darkness.

He was just as eager to touch you, and your trembling fingers sought each other through the blindfolds that had recently been placed over your eyes. Once his palm successfully cupped your cheek, neither of you wasted time leaning in for a desperate kiss.

The kiss started out sloppy and uncoordinated, and Gi-hun let out a soft chuckle before you repositioned your lips against his for a better angle. Suddenly, the kiss was lighting your veins on fire; it was fueled by both adrenaline and elation, tinged with the sweet taste of victory.

Because not only had you both survived the horrible games you had played for the last few days.

You had won.

•············• ◇ • ♤ • ♧ • ♡ • ♧ • ♤ • ◇ •············•

Only eight of you had managed to successfully cross the glass bridge of the fifth game and were set to compete in the finals. The barracks had looked empty with so few beds but it had also revealed secrets painted on the walls. You had all collectively stared at the familiar shape of the squid game drawn in pure black on stark white, another beloved childhood game twisted into something sinister.

It was obvious what the teams of the final game would be. Deok-su was already rounding up his lackeys, leaving you and Gi-hun together with Sang-woo and Sae-byeok. The threatening looks you received during your fancy dinner made it abundantly clear that you and your friends were not expected to come out on top in this battle. Regardless, Sang-woo insisted he had a plan — because of course he did, even when the odds were stacked against you.

It was a shame that carefully crafted plan flew right out of the window as soon as the game started and Han Mi-nyeo screamed like a woman possessed while launching herself at Sae-byeok.

And just like that, all hell broke loose. For what seemed like an eternity, everything was a blur of dust and blades cutting through the air, accompanied by the sounds of ripping fabric and fists meeting bone. In the middle of it, you could see Sang-woo getting stabbed in the shoulder and Sae-byeok escaping Han Mi-nyeo only to be sucker punched by a man twice her size.

Gi-hun had managed to cross the squid’s neck and get further ahead than any of you. However, he was now facing the consequences of his meager success, getting the living daylights beat out of him by an angry Deok-su.

While you watched the horrifying scene of your lover’s handsome face receiving punch after punch, Han Mi-neyo used your distraction to her advantage, and suddenly she was pulling you by the hair until you screamed and fell backwards. The woman proceeded to press down on your throat while you desperately clawed at her arms to get her to release you. When your vision started going hazy around the edges, you were sure you were going to die there that day.

And then it all stopped when a sharp whistle rang out to notify of the end of the game.

You coughed and sputtered for air as your assailant abruptly let go. Trying to right yourself and get your bearings, you finally looked up and over the battleground to see Gi-hun, battered and bloody and his chest heaving from exertion. His foot was planted firmly on the drawn circle of the squid’s head.

Han Min-yeo had started screaming about cheating and Deok-su had scrambled to his feet with his knife in hand and a murderous intent in his eyes. You only had time to blink before four gunshots rang out and the lifeless bodies of your opponents had hit the ground, silencing their big mouths for good.

•············• ◇ • ♤ • ♧ • ♡ • ♧ • ♤ • ◇ •············•

Gi-hun was still a little worse for wear after the ordeal but none of his injuries seemed to bother him. His mouth tasted of copper and he briefly flinched when your nose pressed against his broken one, but his hands and lips were just as eager against you.

"I love you," he whispered between kisses. "I love you so much."

You responded by kissing him even harder, pouring in all of your affection and desire as you licked into his welcoming mouth. Swallowing his surprised moan against your lips, your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders and hurried to slide the suit jacket off them. He instantly realized what you were going for and helped remove the garment — all the while his lips never left yours.

A limousine ride following a week's worth of deadly games might not have been the ideal setting for a tryst in the dark, but neither of you seemed to care. Your head was swimming with emotions that you couldn't quite place, and the only thing you knew was that you needed to touch Gi-hun, now.

You tried to unbutton his shirt but it was proving difficult in the darkness. As you cursed silently under your breath, his large hands fumbled for your face and eventually settled onto your blindfold.

Right as Gi-hun was about to remove the damned thing, the distinct sound of a cocking gun from the driver's direction made you both freeze.

"No peeking," a monotone voice said, distorted by the mask.

Gi-hun's hands slowly lowered from your head. Not about to give up so easily, you pulled them back and placed them on your hips instead.

"I don't need to see you," you said, blindly placing a kiss onto his face that landed on his chin. "I just need to feel you."

You emphasized your words by sliding your hands down his body to tease over the bulge in his slacks.

"S-shit," Gi-hun groaned, squeezing your hips and pulling you closer. "Are you sure?"

You leaned closer until your cheek was resting on Gi-hun's and your lips brushed against his ear.

"Some masked loser wants us to be kinky? Let's give him a show," you said.

A needy groan sounded into your ear before heated lips claimed yours once more.

•············• ◇ • ♤ • ♧ • ♡ • ♧ • ♤ • ◇ •············•

As soon as you had realized you had won the game, you broke out in an elated cheer, startling Sang-woo and Sae-byeok nearby. Gi-hun had looked up to meet your eyes, and you ran straight into his arms and caused both of you to topple onto the ground.

After a beat, the others had been beside you, Sang-woo offering praise to his childhood friend while shaking Gi-hun by the shoulder. Sae-byeok was smiling for the first time, a laugh bubbling up in her throat even while she bowed her head to hide the relieved tears spilling free.

Whether it was dumb luck or that dormant strength you knew laid inside of him, Gi-hun had won the game for you. His wide smile was bloody but no less brilliant as you kissed him. Not only had he earned you all billions of cash, he had also finally been able to save his friends’ lives.

There was no fanfare from the mysterious organizers to celebrate your victory, only an appearance from the masked stranger who introduced himself as the Frontman. He offered a monotone congratulations before announcing your prize of over 11 billion won per head. Afterwards, a few guards led your group back inside without further ado, and you followed them through the maze until you arrived at a road with two limousines waiting.

Gi-hun had kept looking at you with such genuine joy on his face that you wouldn't have been able to stop smiling even if you had wanted to. Sang-woo only gave you both a cursory glance before asking Sae-byeok to ride with him in one of the limousines. The girl had seemed skeptical but eventually agreed, and before the door closed behind Sang-woo you had seen him give Gi-hun a knowing smirk that made the man beside you sputter and yell after him.

You'd grabbed Gi-hun’s hand and led him inside the limo with a laugh, barely able to sit still through the ordeal of being blindfolded before jumping your lover’s bones.

•············• ◇ • ♤ • ♧ • ♡ • ♧ • ♤ • ◇ •············•

Your heart beat frantically as your mouths and hands explored each other. He was bolder than the last time you did this, unashamed by his wandering hands and the noises he was making.

A surge of arousal shot through you when he grabbed your ass and squeezed, and when you pushed him down to lay on his back, he went willingly. Now effectively pinning Gi-hun against the limo seat, a muffled groan escaped his mouth and into the kiss as you ground your hips down against his hardness.

You pulled away from the kiss and leaned back on your heels, the air filled with the sound of heavy breathing as you caught your breaths. As much as you wished you could see him right now, spread out underneath you and disheveled from arousal, the blindfold actually added an unexpected thrill to the encounter.

Gi-hun let out a sound you could only describe as a whine, a wordless plea as his wandering hands gripped your thighs.

"I've got you, baby," you promised, mindlessly fumbling for the button of his pants.

How could you resist when he was begging for it so beautifully? Your fingers itched to touch him, to wrap around his pretty cock just like last time—

—until his warm hands grasped yours to cut your efforts short.

"Oh—I, uh," you stammered, immediately stopping. "Shit, sorry."

Confusion and shame washed over you; you thought it had been pretty clear where this was going, but apparently you'd misread the situation entirely.

"Ah, no, that's alright," Gi-hun chuckled nervously. "Trust me, I'm not complaining that you want to get your hands on me."

You couldn't see it, but you could vividly imagine the boyish grin on his face. It made you smile in return and your already infatuated heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah?" you asked.

"I swear," he said, and then there was a warmth brushing across your knuckles as he placed a sweet kiss onto your hand. "But I seem to recall promising you a favor, a few days ago."

Blood rushed to your face as you recalled the encounter. A heated makeout and hurried blowjob in the bathroom stall wasn’t exactly the most romantic hook-up you had ever had, but you still recalled it with nothing but fondness.

Especially the part where he had promised to return the favor later.

"Oh,” you said, a grin pulling on your lips. “That favor.”

"That’s the one," Gi-hun said, a teasing edge to his voice. "So? Are you going to let me spoil you this time?"

His fingers toyed with the waistband of your suit pants and heat pooled between your legs just from the innocent gesture. You swallowed and nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see it. Finally, you settled on a breathless "Yes."

Undressing you was a joint effort in the confined space. Soon enough, you were laid on the limo seat and practically naked from the waist down, Gi-hun kneeling between your legs while his hands smoothed along your legs. His hands were warm and rough against your bare skin, callused from a week’s worth of brutal games and needless violence.

He hiked your dress shirt up to kiss your belly, and your hands tangled in his hair and desperately pulled him closer against you.

The last few days didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that Gi-hun was here with you, and that you were both safe.

“You took my breath away when I first saw you in the suit,” Gi-hun suddenly spoke, a low murmur between kisses against your midriff. “But I couldn’t stop myself imagining how you would look out of it.”

“Next time,” you promised. “Next time you can look as much as you want.”

He hummed against your skin and you squirmed under his touch. His fingers were toying with the waistband of your panties and his mouth was so close to where you wanted it.

“Please,” you whispered.

Gi-hun’s hands only trembled slightly as he finally pulled your panties down and trailed his lips lower and over your mound.

You let out a moan as soon as his lips dragged over your folds, desperate for any kind of stimulation. You heard a shaky exhale before your panties were quickly yanked the rest of the way down to free your legs.

His hand nudged your thigh and you immediately spread your legs; modesty thrown out the window as you unabashedly spread yourself for him.

"God, I wish I could see you," Gi-hun said, his voice rough with lust.

His hand brushed gently between your legs, a feather-light touch as he mapped out your most intimate parts. It was both sweet and infuriating, and you bit your lip to suppress an impatient groan.

When his explorations finally came across your hole, he let out an audible gasp.

“You’re so wet,” he said, dragging a finger over your soaked pussy.

“It’s because you’re such a tease,” you managed to grit out, pushing your hips against him to try to get some relief.

“I, uhm… I see,” he stammered. “Let me fix that.”

In an instant, his touch was gone and you almost wanted to scream, but after some shuffling it was replaced by his hot breath ghosting against your sensitive skin. You waited in anticipation, not even daring to breathe, until he placed a warm, sloppy kiss right over your core.

“Fuck, yes,” you groaned, hurrying to grab onto his hair.

Your reaction seemed to spur him on, and the next such kiss was even more filthy, with a wet drag of his tongue along your pussy all the way up to your clit. You let out an obscene moan and he echoed it with one of his own, seemingly enjoying himself just as much as you were.

Gi-hun was clearly determined to repay you from last time and then some, if the enthusiasm with which he went at you was anything to go by. He placed hot kisses on your dripping cunt between licking at your aching clit, and you felt your arousal growing with every little noise of approval he made while he ate you out like a man starved.

His breath was heavy and warm against you, coming in pants through his mouth. His nose was still clogged with blood after the game but he made no move to stop or slow down. One of your legs was flung over the backrest of the seat and the other he held up with surprising strength, keeping you spread out for him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but as long as his heavenly mouth stayed on you, you couldn’t care less.

“You taste incredible,” he said between heavy breaths. “It’s probably a good thing you can’t see how wrecked I am at just the taste of you.”

You could vividly picture him, hair tousled and his chin glistening with spit and your juices, his beautiful eyes even darker behind the blindfold as his erection tented the slacks obscenely.

You moaned at the image and the noise spurred him back into action, dipping his head back down to continue pleasuring you.

He seemed to be done teasing, focusing on lapping at your clit with a speed and precision that you weren’t expecting. It made your toes curl and you no longer had control over your volume, wordless moans mixing with pleas of his name. Gi-hun was loud, too, like your pleasure was his pleasure as went at you with single-minded determination — similar to when he had licked the dalgona.

The sudden memory made you laugh, and Gi-hun’s mouth raised from between your legs, making a wordless sound of inquiry.

"I just started thinking about the dalgona," you said, another snicker escaping your lips. "Should have known you'd be great at this just from the way you worked that sugar."

He chuckled and rested his head against your thigh, the sound reverberating against your skin.

"Well, I do love eating sweet things," he said. He followed it up by placing a kiss on the inside of your leg, as if to prove a point.

“Charmer,” you grinned, fondly petting his hair. “Anyway, sorry for the interruption. Carry on.”

“With pleasure,” he said.

Picking up right where he left off, Gi-hun’s lovely tongue was back to circling and flicking over your clit with a practiced ease. You thought you noticed him briefly alternating to broad swipes of his tongue — not unlike the incident with the honeycomb — but it only added to your excitement and you could only tug on his hair and moan.

“Fuck, just like that,” you praised.

You were so close, already feeling the pleasure between your legs start to crest as your thighs twitched in his grasp.

“Don’t stop,” you said, pulling him closer against you.

Gi-hun seemed happy to oblige, pressing his mouth down harder while never wavering from the exquisite pace of his tongue.

In the end, it was the long, drawn-out moan Gi-hun let out that did you in. In an instant, the building tension inside you snapped and released, leaving you spasming against his skilled tongue as the pleasure crested in waves. Your moan was filthy and loud as you ground your hips against his face to ride out your orgasm.

It felt like your ears were ringing as you finally came down from your high. You barely made out Gi-hun's murmured "God, you're gorgeous" as he placed loving kisses onto your abdomen.

"Get up here," you tried to order but it came out as a breathless plea.

Nonetheless, he complied, sliding up your body until he was hovering over you and nuzzling his face against your neck.

"Was that okay?" he asked, his voice colored with uncertainty.

You giggled from the absurdity of the question. One minute this man had been confidently eating you out with gusto, and the next he was back to his adorable, floundering self. Had he really not realized that he just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life?

"'Okay' is an understatement," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It was incredible. You're incredible."

You pulled him down into a kiss, swallowing his surprised moan and tasting yourself on his lips.

“Is it my turn now?” you asked, a sly grin forming on your face.

“Ahm, I, that’s alright,” Gi-hun stammered. “This was more than enough.”

He shifted to try to hide the very obvious bulge you could feel pressing against you. It made your spent cunt weakly throb in interest; he had been so good for you, and you wanted nothing more than to satisfy him just as he had you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, “accidentally” pressing up against his hardness and causing his breath to hitch. “You don’t want to lay down on this expensive leather seat and let me take care of you?”

“W-well, when you put it like that…” he trailed off, his hips hesitantly pushing down against yours.

You pulled him back into a kiss with a smirk and he was all too happy to reciprocate. Your lips moved sensually against each other as you shuffled closer on the narrow seat, the passion steadily building back up with every passing moment.

Abruptly, the sounds of his quiet moans and the leather seat creaking were accompanied by a strange… hissing, coming from above you. Your brow furrowed in confusion and you both broke away from the liplock.

"What was that?" Gi-hun asked.

"Oh, shit," you cursed, pulling your shirt up over your mouth. “The gas!”

Gi-hun made a noise of realization before his arms gave out from underneath him and his weight crashed heavy against your side. You shifted to make him more comfortable, all the while breathing through the fabric to feebly protect yourself against the substance filling the car.

"I guess this makes us even," Gi-hun slurred happily. “G’night, honey.”

You barely suppressed a laugh at the goofy comment in your pressing situation. Reassured by Gi-hun’s carefree attitude, you gave up your fight against the inevitable effect of the gas in favor of wrapping your arms around him in a loose embrace.

A sloppy press of his lips against your cheek was the last thing you remembered before your consciousness faded and you collapsed onto the seat together with your lover.

#seong gi hun x reader #seong gihun x reader #gi hun x reader #seong gi hun #seong gihun #squid game x reader #squid game #gamblerswriting #female reader

155 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,199 times in 2022

That's 654 more posts than 2021!

135 posts created (11%)

1,064 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ithinkwehitametaphor

@buckyhoney

@mariamariquinha

@cheesybadgers

@justanotherblonde23

I tagged 295 of my posts in 2022

#the corinthian - 14 posts

#lou's gifs - 12 posts

#boyd holbrook - 11 posts

#bishop losa - 10 posts

#bring me a dream - 10 posts

#jon bernthal - 10 posts

#mayans mc - 9 posts

#ficmas - 9 posts

#sandman fanfiction - 8 posts

#the sandman - 8 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die.

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

Stupid little girl.

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so.

- 👑-

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340 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

Bring me a dream

Part 3: Vanilla Marshmallow

Status: Ongoing

Masterlist

Pairing: The Corinthian x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, horror elements, manipulation

A/N: ok i think I got everyone tagged that wanted to be, but if not please don’t take it as a mark against you! Just message and let me know to add you ☺️ enjoy everyone!

-🍰-

Perhaps it was the thought of your sweet face, or maybe it was the flashback of you making him “pinky promise”; or it was some combination of those things and others that was making Corinthian feel bad about the dead person in front of him. He stared back at the hollow eye sockets with a grimace, holding the cooling body close to himself and brushing its dark hair away from the trickling blood. What was he going to do?

Of course he had no intention of actually stopping his illicit activities, those were a part of his life’s rich tapestry. Naturally he said what he could so that you would give him a chance, but now he was genuinely beginning to feel like he should at least dial back. He tilted his head at the corpse and arched his back, coming to lie back against the soft, thread rich sheets and letting the body slump off of the bed.

“Gonna have to hide that now,” he said to himself, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Never had to do that before…”

His naked thighs tangled in a blood stained white throw, burrowing him closer into the warmth of the bed. He could’ve lain there all night, staring up at the ceiling and into the emptiness there, contemplating you. There was a softness that grew inside his chest as he thought of you. A need that tingled through him as the blood that remained on his bare skin seemed to scratch at him.

He needed to wash off his sins.

The bed was slicked with crimson, evidence of his failed promise. He glanced at the glasses on the bedside table and stared back at himself in the reflection, considering his toothy eyes and solemn lips. His cheeks were trickling with blood that looked like tears. Was this what Morpheus envisioned when he was created? He often wondered about that.

Corinthian trailed his thoughts toward the entrapped endless and smiled. thinking of him caged and seething often brought a grin curling to his lips. It had upset him to know just how much you revered Morpheus upon talking to you more. You’d denied yourself the pleasures of the human realm, waiting so loyally in the dreaming, it was unfathomable. Beyond his comprehension. There was so much to gain from life, so many experiences to live.

He intended to make sure that you experienced them all. He wanted to claim it all for himself anew, seeing what the human realm had to offer for a dream. What would you do? How will the world change you? He couldn’t wait to see. It made his heart flutter thinking of all of the possibilities.

All he had to do was hide that poor wretch sprawled on the floor and he could drive back to the city and go meet you at daybreak. A thought that had him sighing into the pillow, moving his hands so that they trailed down past his stomach. He had some time before the darkness would dissolve and until then, well, he intended on having some fun to himself before he had to restrain himself once more.

Not for much longer, he hoped.

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380 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

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405 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

Bring me a dream

Part 2: Cherry Cheescake

Status: Ongoing

Masterlist

Pairing: The Corinthian x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, horror elements, manipulation

-🍰-

You spent all day on a knife edge. You couldn’t take your mind off of the ‘date’ you were to go on that night. At least, that was what you’d told Casey when she asked why you were flitting around the kitchen, baking all manner of different tray bakes and cakes. Your human companion was less than pleased that her kitchen was rendered unusable for breakfast before her work, but you didn’t have the mental capacity to think about that.

“Oh my god, will you stop already!”

You looked up from the messily iced cupcake you’d been working on and faced your roommate, looking into her incensed green eyes. Your hands shook for a second, continuing to pipe out icing until finally Casey reached out and snatched the bag from you. It left you standing like a hamster with your hands still in position, staring ahead into the abyss.

“What’s up with you? This should be exciting! You’ve never even talked about fancying a single man or woman, or anyone since I’ve known you and now the minute you go on a date you’re acting like you’re in a TV heartbreak!” she said, half laughing, half looking ready to strangle you.

You sighed and looked around at the floury mess you’d left all over the room and at the numerous treats you’d made, finally registering the extent of your work that day. You couldn’t believe what you’d done. You wondered for a second where you’d get the time to give them away, until you realised that her presence meant that she was back from work. Time was creeping on you faster than you'd realised and you were going to need to prepare to go out soon. Shit.

“O-oh well I um- I’ve never been on a date before,” you said truthfully, looking back at Casey as she started to clear up your damage.

She stopped in her tracks just as she began to take your mixing bowls over to the sink and whirled back around. Her eyes were as wide as an owl’s. Now you were beginning to think that your excuse wasn’t the best cover up.

“You’ve never been on a date?” she echoed.

You nodded and rubbed the back of your neck, already regretting your idea so much more. It was obvious she was invested now. Invested in your date with the Corinthian, oh gods, what were you going to do? You didn’t want to get all dolled up for him, you didn't want to indulge him in any way really, but the look on Casey’s face now was the ‘you’re not getting out of this without a makeover’ look.

“Hold on, before you get any ideas-” you tried.

“Oh I have so many ideas!” She interrupted. “ We need to start getting you ready now, we need to prepare you. Right, you go get in the shower then I can do your hair and bring up first date topics- oh and then we can-”

You zoned out while she rambled on about her schemes, lost in your own despair. Her head was filled with roses and your’s was occupied by those dark soulless shades and fox-like smile. You were going for a date with the devil and she was acting like you were meeting prince charming and getting ready for a life in a castle. It made your lips turn like you’d just eaten sour candy.

You knew better than to argue with Casey, however. Once she got on one of her tirades you’d never be able to stop her, especially not while she looked so full of childlike excitement. Who were you to ruin her dreams of preparing her friend for her first date?

-🍰-

You looked like something out of a magazine. Your eye makeup was perfectly applied and glittered like a fairy had flown over you, your cheeks were glimmering with highlighter and your lips were pink and glossy. Kissable, she had said. As if you were going to allow him to kiss you. Ha!

You stood in the doorway, glaring at the thought of the nightmare you were going to meet. Only for a second though. Casey turned back around to face you and continued to rattle off her first date rules, while you stared off into the distance. Somehow, you didn’t think you were going to need to use them. Instead of listening, you played with the skirt of your white cotton dress and admired your pretty pink nails.

“Are you even listening to me?” Casey snapped.

“Oh- yes! I’ll let you know as soon as I’m there and I’ll call you if anything happens,” you said dutifully, gesturing away with your hand.

“That’s not what I was-”

“Actually, you know what, I really should be going! Don’t want to be late,” you interrupted, finally growing tired of humouring her.

With a squeal of good luck being shouted out to you, you closed the door and rushed down the stairs of your apartment toward the exit. You stood in the lobby for a second, feeling as if your breath was being stolen from your lungs. You didn’t want to have to go to the club, you didn’t even know if he’d be there yet, he hadn’t been so prudent as to give you a time. It made you wonder if he’d make you sit there all night for him.

Think of the humans, you said to yourself over and over like a mantra. You whispered it at first until you got into the cab you’d called, and even then, you took to recycling it in your head instead. You had to protect these beings' lives with your own, no matter what fiendish plans the Corinthian had in store for you.

“You look real pretty tonight, miss,” the driver said, eyeing you appreciatively in his mirror. “Somethin’ special on?”

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472 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bring me a dream

Part 1: Strawberry Daiquiri

Status: Ongoing

Masterlist

Pairing: The Corinthian x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, horror elements, manipulation

A/N: This part is more of an introduction so nothing really to warn about here, but The Corinthian is pretty creepy so I'll add anything else on that I think needs to be there as I go!

Summary

The corinthian has been enjoying his time away from Lord Morpheus (that is, his forced imprisonment of course). Being free has been a dream. However, when he meets another from the land of the dreaming, he realises the exciting potential to corrupt one of his masters sweet creations. And so he decides he has to have her for himself...

-🍰-

The moment he caught sight of you, of your sweet face and soft nature, he felt compelled to have you. To possess you. To corrupt you completely. Knowing what you were was just the icing on the cake really.

Had you been just any being he’d have felt a pull, but knowing that you were one of his master’s dreams only ramped up his terrible desire all the more. Especially when you were so beloved by dream, his little baker, the girl that could completely change a human’s emotions with just a bite of something sweet.

The Corinthian had wandered alone for such a long time, he’d almost forgotten there were others out there. Other dreams and other nightmares. He’d been unimpeded by his master for so long, living by way of his own twisted whims that when he saw you it reminded him of a world outside of his own. Reminded him of a place he detested so wholly he wanted to rip apart like a daisy. He desired to tear the petals off one by one and scatter the pollen like ashes.

And what better way to do that than to take you and bend you to his will. At least that was what he’d intended on anyway.

You were out in a booming city club with one of the humans you’d befriended only a few months after you’d left the dreaming. A decision you’d not made lightly. You’d watched so many others abandon hope while you’d held on so resolutely, had been so sure that Lord Morpheus would return that you couldn’t let yourself disappoint him. Until finally the lonely crumbling expanse had turned you away with a heavy heart.

You couldn’t bring yourself to watch the last walls of the palace tumble down, and so you’d come to earth like many other dreams in search of somewhere less lonely. Somewhere alive. And you’d found that in the city. It was odd at first, speaking with the beings you had only interacted with in their sleep, conversing with them and getting to experience every part of them and their confusing natures. You’d thought them frightening and, in some cases, cruel at first when you’d just arrived, but soon you came to realise how multifaceted they could be. it only made you love them all the more.

You were watching Casey now as she attempted to flirt with some man from another group, and smiling fondly to yourself as you often did. She was awful at it. She fumbled with her words and awkwardly played with her straw, stealing glances at the stocky man and trying to tell him jokes. She’d grown up insecure, carried her lack of confidence into her twenties like a backpack she couldn’t take off. She was more than the little red head girl hiding in the corner with her frumpy hand-me downs that she believed herself to be, she was the first human to show you kindness.

It comforted you to know that she would be returning home with you that night and delight in one of your signature bakes. Perhaps a big gooey brownie that would inexplicably dry her tears and put a smile on her face, or maybe a richly iced cupcake that would fill her heart with sprinkles of joy and laughter. She wouldn’t go home with some man that wouldn’t appreciate her tinkling laughter and hand-knitted creations. Wouldn’t be led away from you. She needed you. At least that’s what you told yourself every time you would spirit her away from nightclubs and back to your shared kitchen.

“Thinking about somethin’ sweet, sugar?”

A southern drawl broke you out of your thoughts and had you craning your head up into the strobing darkness. You’d been leaning your head in your hand, looking far into the distance but once you met the sculpted face peeking out of the shadows you felt more alert than ever. You felt a chill working it’s way down your spine when you stared into the soulless lenses of his midnight black shades. You tried to place him in your mind, but you couldn’t think of any solid. Only an instinct telling you that he was trouble.

“W-What do you want?” You uttered quickly, hands shaking as they clutched the leather of your seat.

You weren't sure who he was, but you knew for definite that he was a nightmare. There was a dark aura expelling from his pores despite his clean pressed suit jacket and charming smile. You didn’t trust him one bit.

“Now now, sugar, no need to be like that. I just wanted to offer you a drink. After all it’s not often I come across a dream like you,” he’d said so smoothly you could imagine him wink. “Can I sit?”

You were about to protest, you’d opened your mouth and were about to unleash hell before he placed a glass of bright red liquid in front of you. You frowned at it and then looked back at him, catching him gracefully sloping into the seat next to you. Who was this man? Who did he think he was to come and disturb your night.

You looked down at your drink finally and looked at it suspiciously, running your finger up and down the condensation covered glass. What was it? Was it something sinister? You inspected it all over,there was a sugary cherry pierced onto the drooping straw and a little sparkly umbrella that twirled around in the ice that could barely be seen through the dark crimson liquid. It smelt fruity to you, and probably sickly sweet to most humans. Maybe you could give it a taste…

“It’s a strawberry daiquiri. Sweet drink for a sweet dream,” the man drawled.

You tensed as he called you out again. Did he know who you were? If he did then he had you at a disadvantage and you didn’t care for that one bit. The man was too slithery to hold power like that and you knew all this had to be some kind of manipulation, but to what end? It’s not like he could hurt you, you thought to yourself. You can’t kill a dream.

“You never answered my question,” you said finally, taking the straw in your fingers. “What do you want?”

You took a tentative sip of the drink and found yourself holding back a moan at how good it was. It was ice cool and had several shots of extra syrup, too much for a human palette, though it was perfect for you. How did he know? Your eyes drew back to him and that equally sweet smile of his, running your eyes across his soft pink lips. If only you knew who he was.

“I want some company, sugar. Nothin’ sinister, I just saw you and thought you’d like a conversation…I don’t know about you, but I don’t run into dreams often,” he said smoothly, sitting back in his chair and relaxing into the booth.

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639 notes - Posted August 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #Wow #yeah that tracks

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Eight / Ristretto

W/C: 5.1k (holy shit)

Warnings: language, arguments and tears, lots of feelings, Javier learns how to talk his feelings out, SMUT 18+, dirty talk, open discussion of sexual themes, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected PIV sex, f e e l i n g a

A/N: I went off with this one. hope y’all like it too ;)

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Ristretto: espresso made with about half the amount of water but the same amount of coffee as a regular espresso. ristretto in Italian means "restricted," or that the amount of water used to brew the espresso is restricted.

Javier’s on the couch, lying down with his back to the living room. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not; you can’t really see his face. It doesn’t matter. You’re a little hurt by the fact that he left you in your sleep to rest alone on the couch again. You thought you heard the shower running late last night, while you tossed in your sleep, and it seems that it wasn’t just a dream. Javier’s thick hair is still damp, leaving a wet spot on the pillow beneath his head.

You move about the kitchen, getting something to eat, and he doesn’t stir. He must be asleep, you conclude. Wrapped in a robe and leaning against the counter, you consider what you’ll say to him when he wakes. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling, it’s hard to decide on the proper thing to say.

Maybe he planned on coming back to your bed before you woke. Maybe you moved too much in your sleep. Whatever the reason is, you feel slighted and offended. The whole time he’s been here, you’ve worried he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. Hell, you’ve said you love him and he didn’t say it back.

The insecurity begins to wrap itself around you like the warm material you wear. It’s stifling. What you want most is to walk over to the couch and shake him awake, to chew him out and demand to know his reasoning. But you know it’s stupid. There’s surely a valid reason, and this isn’t even that big of a deal anyway. The conflict of anger towards him and towards yourself makes you give a little grunt of frustration before you stalk off and back to bed. Maybe he’ll come back.

Sleep isn’t coming back, no matter how hard you try. Tossing and turning, you find yourself laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your sheets strewn around your body from your fitful attempt to sleep again. Maybe it’s been ten minutes; maybe it’s been an hour. Your body is far too worked up to sleep, even as your brain commands it to relax, as you remind yourself that you’re being irrational.

Footsteps come from the living room. Javier’s awake. For now, you try to fake being asleep, pulling the blankets around yourself and rolling onto your side, facing away from the door. The footsteps make their way to the bathroom then into your bedroom, walking over that creaky spot in the floor that makes the boards groan.

You think you can hear him getting dressed; the drawer of your dresser opens, the one with a squeaky wheel, the one you cleared for Javier to use while he stays here. There’s a rustling of clothes. He’s changing into something other than his pajamas. There’s a little light in the room, the early hours of a December morning filtering their dull glow through your curtain.

He must still think you’re asleep or he’d be talking to you, you hope. The movement stops for a moment before footsteps fall on the floor, making their way closer to your bed. He stops and looks down at you, watches your presumed sleeping form before he kisses your forehead softly. His lips are gentle against your skin. The tickle of his mustache makes you want to chuckle, to sit up and kiss him properly. But as quickly as he bends down, he’s just as quickly gone from your room, shutting the door behind him.

You sit up and groan in annoyance. You can hear the front door open and close, and with that, Javier is gone.

That irrational part of your brain is worried he’s leaving permanently. Why else would he slip out while you’re still asleep? He’s yet to go anywhere, really, without you showing him the way around here. Then your rational brain takes over: he left all of his belongings besides the clothes on his back and his wallet when he left the apartment. He’s surely not going to leave everything behind.

You’d planned to spend the day doing something with him. The two of you hadn’t exactly decided on what, but it was implied that since you aren’t working today, you’d spend the time with him. It’s still somewhat early, you roll over and groan as the alarm clock reads it to be 8:00 AM. There’s still time for him to come back; maybe he’s just getting the both of you coffee.

It’s pure boredom, like watching paint dry. You want him to come back. You want to ask him why he didn’t stay in your bed last night, why he left this morning. Why he’s been gone increasingly long. The clock in your kitchen ticks, ringing into the living room with its annoying precision. Each little click of the second hand makes you want to smash that damn thing.

The hours pass and pass until it’s late afternoon. You’ve done nothing all day, waiting for Javier to return. You debate several times whether or not you should start a task, but then conclude he’ll probably be back soon. So you wait, watching the daytime television, reading a book, washing dishes. It’s all menial tasks, and eventually it’s 4:00 PM when he returns.

When he opens the door, his eyes find yours and his face falls. “Hi.”

“Where the hell were you?” You ask, standing and walking to him, arms folded beneath your breasts. “I have been waiting around all day for you. You’ve been gone for how long and didn’t even call or tell me you were leaving.”

“I didn’t leave a note?” He asks, face showing his confusion. “I thought I left a note.”

“No, you didn’t, Javier,” you tell him sharply, voice snappy and quick. “Why were you gone all day?”

“I could’ve sworn I left a note,” he mutters, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Javi,” you snap. “Just… where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, but then he does and his eyes show the fear and terror of an ashamed child. He mutters something you can’t hear.

“So the man who’s never held back a single thought is silent?”

“Avoiding you!” He finally bursts, tearing off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. His back is to you, too flustered to even look at you. “You are driving me fucking crazy and you don’t even know it.”

The words break your heart. You freeze in place and feel heat pricking in your eyes. It’s your worst fear. “I am?”

Javier turns at the weak sound of your voice, the panic setting in his chest. “No, no, not like that.” He rushes over to you, putting a hand on each of your forearms. “No, hey, look at me, baby. That is not what I meant. Not…”

“Then what?” You ask, face hot and body nearly trembling. You’ve never heard Javier mad before and you hate it, hate the way his voice sounds when it’s laced with anger and hate it even more when you can feel guilt in his tone. “What other way is there?”

He’s quiet for a moment as he collects his thoughts, and you’re just about to twist out of his arms and slap his face before he speaks. “Your… body. You.”

“What?” You ask again, desperately confused.

“God, you don’t even get it,” he laughs and stands up straight again, running his hands through his hair. “Do you not see how fucking hot you are? Do you not feel the way I’m literally aching for you?” He walks towards the couch and you follow. You’re about to ask the same question again before he turns to you and bites his lip. “I cannot get my fucking mind off how hot you are and it’s making me go fucking insane, baby.” He takes one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. Anything more intimate would make him burst.

The words make your body flush with a different heat, one building in your core first. “And how is that?”

“Do you know why I’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and you follow him. You shake your head. “Because of how bad I want to fuck you. I knew if I got in that bed with you I’d get turned on against my own will, and… I’m a fucking coward. I should’ve asked what you want, what-”

You cut him off. “Ask me now, Javi. Do it.”

He breathes deeply then looks at you. “I don’t even know how to ask it.”

“Try it.”

Another deep breath. “Do you want to…. are you ready to…” he winces at himself. Javier is one of the most widely known playboys in Bogotá and yet he can’t bring himself to ask you this. He can’t pull out his seductive voice because it’s you and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “What do you feel for me? Are you… attracted to me… sexually?”

Looking at him in his eyes, staring into the beautiful brown, you force your thoughts to converge into something you can verbalize into words. This isn’t what you wanted from the day, but you suppose this talk had to come. “Well, I… I love you, Javi. You know that, right?” You ask, cupping his face.

He takes your palm and kisses it, nodding. “But… I don’t know if you really know who I am if you think that I don’t want you. I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear. I’m not some innocent little virginal thing, Javi. I’ve been thinking the same thing about you. That whole thing has got to be in your head, because I am extremely attracted to you. You’re so fucking hot, truly. I haven’t initiated anything because I’ve been waiting for you to. I thought you would. Hell, I would’ve slept with you on the first date if I didn’t have work in the morning,” you chuckle, though it’s hard to be humorous now, with the weight of a sob stuck in your throat. “You should’ve just asked me.”

Javier nods as he listens to your words, processing and internalizing the meaning behind them. He should’ve, and he’s about to say it but you speak. “Now… please. Tell me what you feel for me. Don’t hold it back.”

He gulps and looks at your hand, still wrapped in both of his, collecting his own scattered thoughts. “Well… you know I haven’t had a committed relationship in what, ten years? And I left that woman at the altar.” You’ve heard this story. He told you in full detail, everything that happened with Lorraine. “Then I went to Colombia. I’ve… God, I’ve lost track of how many women I fucked. Just whoever’s there, you know? But I never got to have a relationship with any of them, because I… well, I was scared. I didn’t wanna fuck up again. And Colombia’s not the place to have a love life anyway, not when you’re a government gringo trying to take down the guy a lot of the people actually fucking liked at first.”

“Javi,” you remind him. “Please… about me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I guess… I wanted to fuck you at first, but I forced myself to think that I didn’t want to, so I didn’t ruin it and feel like I did with all the girls back there. Maybe... it’s been a long time since I was quizzed on it, but wasn’t the psych term for it called projection? When you imagine someone else having your feelings so you can deny that they’re your own?”

You nod, leaning against him and setting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll stop the spiel. I’m being a pretentious asshole with it. I think you’re really attractive and I’ve been getting sexually frustrated because I thought you didn’t want to fuck me. But… I guess you do.”

This lets a real laugh resonate from your chest. “I do,” you chuckle, nuzzling in closer. “So… why didn’t you stay in my bed last night?”

He groans. “Fuck. You were just so close. I could feel your body and I felt disgusting for thinking the things I did about you. God, you had my arm squished between your tits, and I could feel you through your panties and pajama shorts… ”

“Is that why I heard the shower?”

“I’m 40 goddamn years old, and you’re so fucking hot you made me get turned on just by cuddling up to me,” he chuckles and kisses your head. “Like a teenager. I tried a cold shower to get rid of it but I couldn’t. So I took care of things myself and went to the couch to sleep because I felt that I didn’t deserve to sleep next to you.”

His words melt your heart. “Big sexy manwhore was too afraid to seduce me?” you tease.

“It was two in the morning. And, like I said, projection,” he chuckles.

“We’re dating, right? Together. You’re allowed to think about me like that, Javi,” you remind him, turning his chin to look at you. “In fact, I want you to.”

You’ve finally broken his will. The words do something to him, the way you said it… I want you to. For the first time with you knowing, his mind wanders and his eyes trace from your face to the soft skin of your neck, to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts. “I can do that,” he murmurs, feeling a chill rush through his body.

God, you could moan at the sound of his voice alone. “You’ve been holding back this long,” you mutter back, hands finding his shoulders as you pull yourself to straddle him. “Let go, Javi. Please.”

He’s so fucking close to doing it. His willpower is hanging by a thread, but he wants to be certain. “You’re sure?”

“Please,” you ask, the desperation in your voice emphasized by the look in your eyes, the way your hips involuntarily rock against his. You’ve never had a man look at you with the hunger and the ferocity in Javier’s eyes. You’ve never driven a man to jerk off in the shower at the thought of you, and it gives you a feeling of power and confidence to know he wants you like this.

Within a split second, the power is no longer yours. Javier takes your lips against his, kissing you with a passion and a fire burning in his chest. It’s harsh and sloppy but perfect, and you immediately submit to his wishes, grinding down onto his lap and moaning into his lips.

You’re too damn perfect. Your lips against Javier’s make him moan helplessly, the way you tug on his bottom lip with a teasing nibble and moan again as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You break away to look at him, to admire how far gone he is just from getting to grind on you, like a teenager again. “Can I show you how much I want you, Javi?” You ask, letting your voice drop lower and your tongue dart out to clean your messy lips.

He groans, unable to form words. He nods frantically, and you smile a little. Giving him one last sloppy kiss, you stand from his lap and get on your knees in front of him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask, your fingers already undoing his belt buckle and sliding it out.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, and you can already see how hard he is through the jeans he wears. He helps you, unbuckling and unzipping the pants before lifting his hips to work them down to his knees, where he knows you can take them from there.

Daring to tug down the waistband of his boxers, you encircle his dick with your fingers and pull it out. You shudder at the sight, biting your lip and shifting your hips against the floor. He’s above average length, but the thickness makes you squirm in anticipation. “Javi,” you breathe, wetting your lips and gulping. You look up at him with big eyes. “You’re gonna make my jaw hurt,” you flirt, and the enthusiasm on your face makes him twitch in your hands.

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, but your excitement more than makes up for it. You reach up and undo the buttons of his shirt, while he lifts his hips again and wriggles his boxers off of his waist and thighs. Pushing the fabric aside, you’re exposed to a bit of pudge and his strong torso. God, is it awful that your first thought is to lick it? Who fucking cares, you think before you dive in, kissing his abdomen and tracing your tongue across the skin above his navel.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby,” he grunts and his head falls back against the couch, eyes slipping shut.

The taste of his skin is everything you want and need, the slight saltiness from sweat making your own core ache harder. Your hands grip his sides as you lavish his stomach and abs with kisses and licks, desperate and unable to get enough. You nip at his soft stomach and he hisses out a sharp exhale. He likes that; noted.

“God, I fucking love you, Javi,” you groan and grab his thighs, spreading them further so you can squeeze closer between them.

“Fuck, you too,” he groans and bites his lip as you press kisses to the base of his shaft, then smother the base with kisses and licks. It feels good, but nowhere as good it would be if you- “oh, dulzura,” he grunts as you finally give attention to the tip, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin before swirling your tongue around it.

He lets himself lean back and enjoy it. He’s received a lot of head in his day, from a lot of women, but what makes this the best he’s ever fucking had is the adoration in your eyes, the look of mischief as you trace his frenulum with your tongue just to see him squirm. You’re enjoying it just as much and that’s half of it.

His fingers dig into your hair, his back arching when you do something different. The next time you pull away, he keeps your head back, off of him. “Your bed. Wanna fuck you, pretty girl, wanna make love to you.” Your face is desperate, yearning for him endlessly. “Make love to me later. Fuck me first.”

The words go to Javier’s already aching dick. He stands quickly, pulling you up with him and lifting your shirt, tossing it aside and letting his hands finally grab your breasts through your bra.

“Thought you said bed.”

“Give me a second. Take your pants off while I do this.”

“Do what- Javi!” Javier unclasps your bra, which buckles in the front, and shoves it off, desperate to see your tits. “Mm, fuck,” he murmurs, admiring the things that have been taunting him since he very first saw you. Javier’s fingers tug at your nipples, pulling them to their hardened state, before pressing your tits together and burying his face in them.

He returns the favor of you admiring his body, licking and nipping and kissing at the soft skin, kneading them with expert hands. You’re too in the moment, enraptured by the way he works your breasts, but you come back to consciousness for a moment and wriggle off your pants and panties like he asked.

His tongue is masterful, swirling and licking your sensitive nipples in a way that makes you ache to wonder what that same motion would feel like between your legs. The feeling is too good, Javier adoring your body and practically worshipping it. He breaks away with a face slick from his own spit on your breasts and smirks. “Now bed. Wanna see if you taste just as good somewhere else.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you groan and pull him into a heated kiss, frenzied and passionate. You break away but keep him close and walk him to your bedroom, flopping on your back on the bed and waiting for him to follow.

He does, getting on the bed’s edge and lying flat on his stomach, spreading your thighs and nestling between them. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper as you realize he’s going to return the favor.

His lips ghost along the soft skin of your inner thigh, sucking bruises into the flesh that make you squirm and moan. His hair is thick but so beautifully soft beneath your fingers, and you bury your hands in it as he gets closer to where you want him. “Please, Javi,” you murmur.

“Anything for you, abejita,” he chuckles and licks a hot stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching on the sensitive bud and swirling his tongue over it. “So wet,” he muses, your folds muffling the sounds. It translates to a vibration between your legs that makes you shiver again.

He takes his time with you, letting his mouth explore every little millimeter of the sensitive skin there. He laps through your folds, your own wetness and his spit making it painfully easy for it to glide through. Finally, when he brings his fingers into it, you make a groan of relief. His fingers trace your entrance, slowly, around the rim. Teasing. “Javi, if you made my jaw sore, you better get me ready down there,” you laugh, love drunk on this man, on Javier Peña and everything the man has to offer.

“‘m trying,” he murmurs, slowly slipping a finger in and marveling at the glide. “God, you’re so tight,” he shivers, his own hips rocking into the bed at the thought of his dick buried inside this. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you?”

His finger curls softly, experimentally, and you know you’re in for it now when it immediately hits the spongy spot inside. “Holy- oh fuck, Javi,” you pant, one hand gripping the sheets. “Right there.”

Javier smirks. “I’ve barely done anything to you. Look at this.” He slips a second finger in and you groan again, your head falling back into the pillow and your back arching.

There’s the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the slats in your shades, falling onto your bare breasts and Javier’s muscular back. The light is fading, the December sunset already approaching. God, he looks so good doing this, all you can do is whine his name again and again.

It doesn’t take long once he has two fingers inside of you, working them against that perfect spot and bringing his lips back to praise your clit. He can feel your body tense, your thighs tighten around his head. God, you could probably crush him like this, maybe smother him, but he can’t think of a better way to go. This is how he wants to die someday: his head buried between your thighs, tasting the most divine thing his tongue has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You come with little fanfare, but Javier can feel it in the way your body moves. Your thighs spread wider, shaking, and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your back arches and the soft noises you’ve been making slowly dissipate as it all fades.

He works you through it then looks at you with a smirk, licking his lips and the bottom of that goddamn mustache. “That thing is fitting,” you tease, stroking his damp mustache. “You have a tongue like a damn porn star.”

“Then just wait until you feel what else I have for you,” he teases, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head. You laugh and reach up to kiss him, groaning at the taste of your own tang on his lips. He’s such a fantastic kisser. You could just make out with him for hours, admiring the softness of his lips even when they’re slightly chapped.

Reaching over blindly, you fumble for your nightstand and reach into the drawer to find a box of condoms. You have to break away, but you return to him with one and hold it up, grinning. He snatches it from you and steals one last kiss before tearing it open with his teeth, tossing the packet aside and rolling the condom down over himself.

Javi kisses you again, deeply. Meaningfully. “You sure about this, little bee?” He asks, voice blown with lust, painfully hard from denying himself sensation while eating you out.

“I haven’t wanted anyone more,” you smirk. “But remember what I said earlier?” You tease, cocking an eyebrow and tracing your fingers across his jaw.

“That you love me?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“That we can take our time later. Now I want you to fuck me, please, baby.”

The words send a shiver down his spine and he nods. “If that’s what you want. I… I won’t hold back.”

“Give me your worst,” you smirk and kiss him hard.

He wastes no time. He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes in, burying himself to the base and grimacing at how good it feels, how much effort it takes for him not to lose it. He takes a minute, taking deep breaths. “You feel okay?”

He’s thick. There’s no denying it. Even with his fingers before, this is a different stretch. It’s aching but in a good way, in a way that makes you desperate to feel it. “Feel so fucking good already,” you admit, kissing his neck.

Once he’s ready, he begins. He starts with a rhythm that already makes you lose your senses, desperately clinging to the only thing you can think of or feel: him. His dick is large, and presses against just the spot that made you lose it minutes ago. His thrusts are not gentle, but rough and grinding. You can’t get enough.

His pace picks up. His hips snap into yours, moving a thick thumb to circle your sensitive clit with the pad of his finger. “You feel so fucking good, lil’ bee,” he breathes. His Texan accent from his upbringing is more present when he’s sleepy, you’ve noticed, but also when he’s extra turned on. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.

“God, fuck,” you whine and cling to him, wrapping a leg around his waist and crying out as that allows him to get even deeper inside of you. “Javier, please baby,” you mutter, your hands frantically grabbing at his muscular back.

“You got it,” he grunts, each syllable in time with a thrust that pushes into you deeper and deeper. Your nails dig into his back unintentionally and he whines at the feeling, the pain and pleasure mingling perfectly. “Fuck, pretty girl. So fuckin’ good, taking me so perfectly. Like you were meant for this, huh?”

Whatever sense you have left agrees. You must’ve been. The universe put you two together in a surprising way so that you could feel this heavenly joining of bodies, so you can make each other see the farthest stars in the galaxy. “Yeah, oh Christ, Javi,” you groan as his fingers work in the opposite direction on your clit. “Harder, please.”

“I’ll try,” he chuckles dryly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. The position keeps him connected to you even when his thrusts nearly pull him fully out of you. “You like that?”

“Fucking love it, Javi,” you nod and grind your hips back against him and his hand. The friction makes him hiss, desperate for anything you’ll give. “Think I’m close. Think I’m gonna- oh,” you whimper, leaning up to grab his face and pull it down to yours.

He knows you’re coming quick. His lips remain on yours, determined to feel it when it happens. And it does fast- before long, you’re clamping down on him like a fucking vise and you make the prettiest little sounds into his mouth, muffled by his wandering tongue. He groans back, your thoughts passing through mouths rather than ears.

“Good girl,” he groans next to your ear. “Fuck. You make me feel so fucking good, knew you would.” He thrusts harder, and you’re becoming oversensitive but you couldn’t care less. He’s made this all about your pleasure, and he deserves to use you now.

The corners of your eyes prick with overstimulation. “Javi, baby, wanna feel you when you cum,” you beg of him. You dig your nails into his back and it’s the final straw- his hips slow and stutter as he shoots his load into the condom, moaning your name again and again.

When he comes down, he nearly collapses on you, his body like lead as the adrenaline works its way through his veins. He’s all fucked out, exhausted from how long he held back to pleasure you as much as he could. “Mm, baby,” you giggle, digging your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His face is nestled into your neck and you smile, kissing his temple. He makes a soft noise of content. “Don’t fall asleep or the condom is gonna stick to your penis,” you tease lovingly.

With a groan, Javier sits back on his heels. He makes his way to the bathroom and tosses it in the trash, then gets a warm washcloth to wipe you down with. He takes good care of you, leaving kisses behind the warm water-soaked fabric. He finishes with a kiss on your lips that makes you giggle.

“You’re too good to me. What happened to the slut of Bogotá I’ve heard about?”

“He died with Escobar, maybe?” He chuckles, returning to your bed with you. “Or maybe I forgot to pack him. I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckle. “I absolutely adore this one.” You snuggle into his side, against his flushed and tacky skin.

He kisses your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips. “You really are something, abejita.”

“You know, you’re allowed to call me babe and baby too,” you tease softly, your voice barely a whisper with Javier’s face next to yours.

“Those are generic. Little bee is ours.”

His words melt your heart, making your eyes slip shut and your lips curve into a smile in content. You rest your head on his chest and take a deep sigh.

“I really want to fall asleep, but it’s only 5:15,” Javier sighs.

“How about dinner? Are you hungry?” You ask, tracing your fingers across his soft abdomen and gentle tummy.

He thinks for a second. “How about we get delivery?”

“You read my mind, Peña,” you chuckle and place a soft kiss on his pec. “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, forces all of the fear to leave his body with the carbon dioxide. “I love you too, abejita.”

taglist:

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americxn · 3 years

Text

Lavender ((dirty version))

♡ Kit tries to make you feel better after a long day ♡ warnings: smut smut smut! a/n: I’ve very tired right now so I apologise if I missed any mistakes whilst proof reading but this is basically just a dirty version of the fluff I wrote a few weeks ago.

"Hey, baby - oh.” Kit said, walking to the front door where you wrestled with your shoes, sat on the ground and pitifully pulling at your feet. Chuckling, Kit crouched down in front of you, raising an eyebrow and holding his hand out expectantly. Complying, you placed your foot in his hand, watching as he undid the laces with nimble fingers and pulled the shoe off, moving to your other foot to do the same. Not being able to untie your shoes had been the final straw after the completely fucked day that you had suffered and your lower lip quivered slightly at your boyfriend’s kindness as he neatly tucked your shoes away beside front door and pulled you to your feet. “Aw,” Kit exclaimed as he looked you in your rapidly wetting eyes, cooing as he pulled you into a tight hug, his chin resting atop your head protectively. “Long day? Or has something upset you?” You forced your tears down as Kit pressed your face into his chest, his hand coming round to the back of your head. “Long day.” You said simply, the words so muffled in the front of his shirt that you were surprised that he could make out the reply. His chuckle rumbled in his chest and you pulled away, wiping the single stray tear that you had allowed to fall from you cheek. “Come on,” Kit said, grasping onto your hand and pulling you down the hall to the kitchen. “Lets get you something to eat before I try to make you feel better.

Half an hour later, Kit had you splayed out on your shared bed, face down and completely naked. You sighed as you closed your eyes whilst the sound of Kit rummaging through the draws in your ensuite bathroom filled your ears. “Don’t fall asleep on me.” He said and you grunted in acknowledgment and confirmation. Laughing, he emerged from the bathroom, a little bottle of lavender oil clutched in his hands. “Okay,” he said, coming over to straddle your lower waist, being careful not to put too much of his weight on you. “I know how ticklish you are so I’ll be careful.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he opened the bottle and let a few drops of oil fall onto the exposed skin of your back and you couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the coldness. Kit shushed you softly, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm them up slightly before he used them to smooth the oil out evenly onto your back. “Kit,” you whined softly, already half-asleep. “Cold.” “Sorry.” He whispered, his hands settling in the dip of your lower back before he worked them up towards the nape of your neck, digging his fingertips into your skin and rubbing at your muscles with the heels of his hands. He repeated this slowly a few times, the glorious sensation of your boyfriend’s skilled hands working the tension out of your muscles and the heady scent of the lavender oil intoxicating and you fought back against your sleepiness, refusing to fall asleep and miss the thorough massage that Kit was giving you. He began to hum slightly as his oil-slick hands moved to your shoulders and it was an effort not to moan as his rough, warm fingers rubbed away any soreness and knots in your muscles. Kit let out a breathy chuckle from above you, his hands trailing their way down to your hips. “Is it good?” “So good.” You affirmed, your cheek smooshed into the bed below you as you spoke in barely a whisper. You grunted in protest as you felt Kit’s weight lift off you, your hand finding his and clasping on tightly as he stood, not wanting this to end. “Shhh,” he breathed, “let me take care of you.” Letting go of his hand, you allowed him to walk around to the bottom of the bed and he reached for your ankles to pull you slightly closer to him, the movement leaving you hair fanned out on the bed covers. Kit dribbled more oil onto your bare legs before opening them enough so that he could kneel on the bed between them. His hands started their thorough kneading on your calves and in your sleep addled mind you wondered where the hell he had learnt how to give someone such a fucking good massage. Travelling slowly up each leg, Kit eventually made his way to your upper thighs, having paused briefly to do something miraculous to the backs of your knees that had your toes curling. But now he rubbed his hands up, up, up, smoothing out the aches in your muscles and coming dangerously close to the exposed apex of your thighs before moving down them again, sliding his fingertips along your flesh again and again and again until you couldn’t help the soft mewl that slipped past your slips. A huffed laugh sounded from between your legs. “Don’t give me any other ideas.” You smiled, too sleepy to laugh as he continued, “as inviting as the view is, I’m perfectly happy just doing this.” You wiggled your hips lazily in response and he landed a playful smack on your ass before returning his attention back to your thighs. The slight sting of his palm against your skin made you pause and you wiggled your hips once more in the hopes that he would repeat his actions again. “Y/n?” He said your name in question, his hand coming up to flatten your ass back down on the bed. You pushed against his hold, your bottom lip getting caught in between your teeth as he gripped your flesh slightly, his nails biting into your oily skin. “Really?” He chuckled. “Here I am, trying to make you feel better after a long day and you decide to get turned on? Fuck,” he commented, his fingers suddenly brushing against the edges of your pussy, parting the sensitive flesh and cooing in admiration. “You’re wet for me already.” You whined softly, your face turning into the softness of the duvet beneath you, the fluffy covers smelling of Kit. “Well?” He pressed, the tip of his finger swiping through your wetness with the ghost of a touch. “Well what do you expect?” You said weakly, your voice muffled from where it remained pressed into the bed. “The second your hands were on me, I got drenched.” Kit blew onto your open pussy from behind, his fingers spreading you open and exposing you to him even further. It took all of your will to keep yourself from turning to launch yourself at him. He trailed his finger slowly down the full length of your pussy once more, causing you to push your hips back into his touch in order to gain more traction against the rough pad of his finger. “Impatient.” He tutted, pulling his hands away from you. You groaned as his hands fell back onto your thighs, messaging them deeply. You lifted your head up to glance at him from over your shoulder, your eyes bright with need. He only offered you an innocent smile, shuffling forwards in order to begin pressing the heels of his palms into your back once more. With a sigh, you let your head fall back down onto the bed, coming to accept that Kit was adamant on completing his massage. You quickly relaxed once more under his skilled touch, your eyes drifting shut again. The room feel into a comfortable silence, your eyes getting heavier and heavier with each journey that Kit’s fingers made up and down your spine. Your eyes flew open a moment later when Kit pushed his cock into you. You gasped, raising up onto your elbows, your mouth falling open at the sudden intrusion. You hadn’t even heard him take his pants off. “Oh god.” You gasped when Kit began to thrust immediately. “Oh fuck.” Kit’s sudden entry into you and the intensity with which he immediately started to fuck you made your fingers and toes tingle, your pussy being gloriously stretched open. “I couldn’t make my baby wait for her pleasure after the day that she’s had, now could I?” Kit said from behind you, thrusting all the way into you with each word in emphasis. You groaned, your back giving out as he slammed into with such force that your body moved up the bed, the covers creasing around you. Kit’s hands quickly looped under your thighs to pull them up, positioning you so that your ass was in the air but your chest and face remained pressed into the bed. Your back ached slightly at the harsh angle that Kit held your legs up but the dim pain barely registered as Kit continued to pound into you from behind, pushing your body further and further into the mattress with each stroke. “Oh. Oh, Kit.” You groaned luxuriously, your name on his lips only fuelling Kit to go harder, faster, deeper. Just when you began to gasp, slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure that Kit was abundantly giving you, tears pricking your eyes, Kit, with a shuddering breath, released your upper thighs and planted his hands back onto the oiled skin of your back. His fingers dug into the planes of your back, his nails clawing into your skin. Your eyes rolled continuously, your mouth falling agape as your first orgasm slammed into your body. You almost screamed at the force of your climax, Kit muttering encouragements through gritted teeth with each forceful slam of his cock into your pussy. Your fingers grappled with the sheets pooled around your writhing body as you gasped for air, Kit’s hand coming around to grab you chin and holding your face so that your neck was slightly craned towards the ceiling. You couldn’t seem to gain control of your eyes as they rolled back again and again, each of Kit’s thrust punctuating the aftershocks of your orgasm as you struggled to come down from your high. But Kit didn’t stop. And it was all you could do but keep gulping down breaths in time to his wild thrusting, his hands settling on your hips to pull you further onto his cock. Your fingers shook from where they clenched the bed sheets beside you, your legs trembling so violently that it was a miracle that you didn’t collapse fully onto the bed. Only when your gasped moans turned into high-pitched whines, signalling that you were close again, did Kit pull out. You were barely given the time to comprehend the sudden emptiness at the loss of him inside of you before Kit's lips attached themselves to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue flicked against you engorged clit repeatedly and the sweet pressure as he sucked you into his warm, slick mouth pushed you over the edge again. It felt as if you had fallen off the edge of the world and you cried out hoarsely as you came for a second time, Kit’s tongue working to keep you in the grips of your orgasm for as long as possible. Your mind went completely empty during this moment, every nerve in your body bathing themselves in the pleasure that Kit was giving you, his face clearly imprinted behind your clenched shut eyes. It felt as if Kit managed to draw out your orgasm for a considerable amount of time and as you twitched one last time on his tongue, your body finally gave out and crashing onto the bed in a sweat-coated, exhausted heap. You could only groan incoherently at Kit as he pulled away from you, coming over to your side to check up on you. “Are you alright?” He whispered, causing you to crack open one eye as a truly spent smile spread across your face. You nodded, your ability to speak seemingly non-existent in your afterglow. “Okay.” He laughed quietly, his lips pressing against yours briefly before he was gone again. The bed dipped once more between your legs and your mouth fell open weakly as Kit’s cock slipped back into you. He bottomed out with a shaky exhale but didn’t move, instead reaching to the side to pick up the small vile of lavender oil once more. Your inner walls clenched and rippled around him of their own accord, causing Kit to groan. “Geez, I just can’t catch a break, huh?” He murmured lovingly. “It’s not me. I might fall apart if you fuck me again.” You whispered back, voice raw. The oil was cold as he drizzled it onto your back, his hands soft this time as he rubbed his fingers over the small crescent-shaped indents that his nails had left on your skin, smoothing away any hurt. little taglist: @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel (if you want to be added or removed, just send me a message.)

#american horror story #ahs #ahs asylum #asylum #kit walker #kit x reader #smut

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