#he can blow smoke in my mouth any day

[livinggxd3adgirl]

ex!sukuna drunk calling you to come get him from the bar bla bla bla

“Sukuna, you weigh about 3 times as much as me. I cannot princess carry you up the apartment stairs.” As your words registered in Sukuna, he pouted like a young child. You told yourself that it didn’t matter how many times he called or texted you, but you would absolutely not answer. Or so you thought

This particular night, he called you 47 times. Usually, he only called twice until he got the hint and left you alone for the night until texting you the next morning. The first 2 days after you broke up with him, he showed up to your apartment begging you to open the door. You were doing pretty good at ignoring him and moving on in life. Well, until tonight.

“I’m not going to be able to get up there angel” Sukunas slurred words rang throughout the empty stairwell. Reminiscent of the multiple times you had done this during your relationship.

“You have done it before cmon” you said while wrapping his arm around your shoulder to help balance him. As you both made the trek up the stairs, you can feel Sukuna staring into your cheek. If it wasn’t for the intense smell of alcohol you would have thought the flush on his face is from an extremely strenuous workout.

“Why did you answer my call this time?” Even when Sukuna was drunk, he knew how to make things awkward.

“You called me a million-“

“47 times. You picked up on the 48th call”

you really wished you could push him back down the stairs right now. Sukuna decided that he wanted a break from walking, so he simply sat down without warning, pulling you down next to him. His arm is still wrapped around you, but slowly lowering from your shoulder down to your waist.

“Imma ask again. Why did you answer this time?” His voice was suddenly clear devoid of any slurring or confusion. His eyes trained onto you as you turned your head to look into his eyes. You made brief eye contact before looking down. A sigh escaped your lips as you thought about all the times you and Sukuna sat in the stairwell laughing and smoking.

“I answered because I was worried.” Your voice shook as you spoke. Though you did ignore him, your heart couldn’t help but miss him. You and Sukuna have been together since you were angsty tweens. though it didn’t start as a relationship, you two have still known each other for so long that completely cutting him off hurts. You hear the sound of Sukuna shuffling in his pockets.

“Mmm you sure you ain’t miss me?” His voice is full of playful teasing. turning back to his face, you see that now he has a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand. His lighter had the lighter sleeve you had made for him in high school when he first started smoking. The sleeve was made of metal and had multiple heart engravings around it. One big heart in the middle with you and Sukunas initials inside of it.

“You still have that?” You plucked the lighter from his hands as you inspected the sleeve.

“course I do angel… did ya think I would just throw it away?”

“I really did to be honest” your heart squeezed and contorted as your fingers ran over the engravings. The burn of tears threatened to spill out as all the memories of you two came through your mind. Sukuna tapped your hand before speaking.

“Spark me up beautiful” his smirk apparent on his face. You raise the lighter up to the cigarette in his mouth before the flicker of fire illuminates his face. His eyes stare deep into your soul as the cigarette lit. Sukuna could never and would never openly talk about his feelings for you. His way of communicating his love for you was through physical touch and the look in his eyes. He took a small drag of his cigarette before slowly blowing the smoke into your face. He had done this so many times that you had grown used to it.

“ugh the smell still bothers me” You waved a hand to try and get the smoke out of your nostrils.

“I know it does” He said while chuckling. This moment made you feel completely at peace, and you hated it. You broke up with Sukuna, and now here you are seemingly back in his arms, lighting his cigarette and resisting the urge to kiss him. The feeling of Sukunas' large and calloused hand on your cheek brought you back to reality.

“I love you angel.. so why don’t you just stop being so damn stubborn and come back home yea?”

MADE BY LIVINGGXD3ADGIRL (part 2)

hey guys… I’m back from my hiatus with a nice fic for yalllll likes reblogs and comments are appreciated! Asks are also open! 💕

p.s lmk if u would like to see a second part!

[talaok]

Acting Normal

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.

warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)

a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol

This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone

Javi

This was really important stuff

He was really supposed to be listening

He was paid to listen to it,

that's what he kept repeating himself,

and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.

But it wasn't his fault, not really.

You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.

Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-

"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"

It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said

"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Carillo couldn't help but laugh.

"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"

Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.

"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"

And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.

He didn't know what the fuck to do.

To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.

He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...

Now he was fucked

You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.

He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.

And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.

Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.

He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.

__ __ __

"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"

He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.

You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.

"what's up?"

what's up?

He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??

"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"

"now?" you winced, finally looking at him

"Yeah now"

__ __ __

"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"

"How are you acting so normal?"

A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you

"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"

"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"

He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.

He'd cornered you.

"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head

"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"

"I-"

"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"

"Javier-"

"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"

A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.

"Did that seriously... turn you on?"

"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.

You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.

"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"

His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.

"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"

"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.

Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.

He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.

Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.

"Tell me you don't think about it"

He was like a mind reader

You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.

"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.

You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.

"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"

Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.

What the fuck were you doing?

You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.

"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.

"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.

"We can't"

He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder

"why not sweetheart?"

"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"

"so?"

"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him

"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased

"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"

He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth

"Me? A slut?"

"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.

There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.

"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"

And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.

"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips

"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.

You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"

"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"

His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp

"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly

"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.

"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult

"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.

"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"

"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours

"now- may I kiss you, baby?"

You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"

And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.

"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"

Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.

"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.

"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"

"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"

The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.

"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless

"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"

shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that

"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"

You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-

"J-Javi please"

"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"

"y-yeah- fuck- I-"

he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them

"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.

"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.

"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.

"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.

he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

Damn him

"People are gonna start wondering where we are"

"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.

"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.

He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.

His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.

"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"

"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"

Of course he had one in his wallet

His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.

You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.

It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.

He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.

It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.

"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out

"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.

"J-Javi"

And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.

There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.

He felt so fucking good- criminally so.

"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.

He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.

Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.

It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.

"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"

You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.

"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.

"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"

And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.

"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"

"I know"

Of course he knew

And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.

Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.

He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.

And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-

"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"

There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.

There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.

And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.

Oh right

"we really have to get back"

"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.

"fuck"

There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.

Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile

"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"

"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.

"What?"

"we were never here- now, get back out there"

"I-"

"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.

And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.

"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.

Tg:@fallout-girl219

[chelseeebe]

girls on film

18+. mdni! smut, so much smut. p in v, eddie is a munch! alcohol mentions. pornstar!eddie munson x reader. no use of y/n! modern au.

eddie munson makes porn. you make it. only, eddie doesn't much like the sounds of that.

a/n: happy valentines day my loves! spend some time with our favourite nerd eddie instead of a real man that'll only disappoint. i am so guilty of always giving eddie a breeding kink and then just never giving him any children oopsie hehe. i've been writing this on and off for months now, i already have a p2 and p3 the question is whether i'll finish them or not lol

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

when anyone asked, you’d tell people you were a set assistant. 

what they didn’t have to know was that you were a set assistant for pornstars. 

it wasn’t ever a dream of yours, nor something you’d have ever pictured yourself doing, but it paid the bills and hey, sometimes you met cool people through it too. 

today’s no different to any other, waiting for the talent to arrive as you prep the scene. it’s something ludicrous, metal guy meets friends innocent younger sister, something along those lines. 

you never really paid attention to much of that stuff, at some point it just became so much noise and frantic movement that the script never really mattered. 

he’s late. you’ve heard whispers of his nonchalance before. only hoping that you’d still get home on time. 

when the elusive man finally decides to bless you all with his presence, you’re taken back. not ever expecting the lanky guy that had shuffled through the door. all hair and denim. 

his charm makes up for his tardiness. flowing out of his mouth in droves, shaking hands and sharing hugs with the crew until he gets to you. 

“hey,” the man grins, pulling you in for a half-hug, “i’m eddie, super excited for today now that i’ve seen you.” 

you stare back in confusion, you’d be running towels and telling lighting what to do, why would he ever be excited about that? 

“anything you’re not comfortable with?” he asks, squeezing your arm gently. 

“oh.. what? i’m not- sorry, i just work on set,” shrinking into yourself although flattered that he’d thought you were starring opposite him. 

“oh,” sounding almost disappointed, “that’s a real shame,” the thick smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafting towards you. 

your cheeks burn, averting your gaze to the ground, finding solace away from his heavy stare. 

“who is the lucky lady?” eyes gliding around the women in the room, choosing to once again settle on you. 

“she’s.. um, she’s getting ready,” gesturing towards the small dressing area you had. 

you were never this bumbling, a thousand handsome men had stood before you and had never, ever had this impact upon you. 

“cool.. okay,” he nods, “where d’you need me?” his leather jacket tightening around his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your chest. 

“over here,” gesturing vaguely at the empty makeup chair, losing any and all composure when he pats your arm on the way past. 

christ. 

you needed to get a grip and get it fast. 

-

a lick of fresh air would help pull you from this disgustingly down bad headspace he’d plunged you into. 

or not. 

eddie’s hand curls around your arm just before you reach the door, “i’ll join ya,” cigarette already poised in between his lips. 

you can only nod, stepping out into the cool air though it does nothing for your flushed cheeks, edging away despite his efforts to keep close. 

you’re a little intimidated by his hardiness and hardness. struggling to keep your eyes above the waistband. 

“you ever thought about doing this?” he asks, blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“not really.” 

“that’s a shame,” he smirks, “i think we’d make something beautiful,” keeping his gaze steady on your flustered face. 

“stop it,” brushing him off coyly, he didn’t have to be so sickly sweet, his smirk had clearly already worked its magic on you. 

“you don’t agree?” eddie’s eyebrow raises, taking a slow, drawn-out toke of his cigarette.

you shake your head, “there’s a reason i’m behind the camera and not in front of it,” staring out at the bleak, grey parking lot. 

“well i think we should change that,” stepping in front of you, leaving you no room to not look at him, “i’m in town for the week, i’d love to see you again.” 

this didn’t happen to you, ever. the girls you worked with were otherworldly in terms of their beauty, no one ever really paid you any attention at all. 

eddie can sense your hesitation, assuming that he’d scared you away already, “look, take my number. you don’t have to call but i’d like you to,” slipping his cell from his pocket. 

you nod almost on your own, retrieving your own phone to hand off to him. he’s slick in the way he taps the number in, cigarette balanced on his lip as his eyes flicker between phone screens. 

“there ya go,” placing your phone back in your clammy palm, “do what you want with it, i go back to chicago on thursday,” making it clear that whatever this may be, would be temporary. 

“o-okay,” nodding quickly, there was a high likelihood that his number just sat there for the rest of eternity, never to be used or clicked on again. 

you don’t take eddie as the type of guy to pressure you, in fact, he seems quite the opposite. so much so that if you don’t take him up on his offer, you’ll never hear from him again. 

it’s truly an offer you really shouldn’t refuse, but yet you’re hesitant to even accept his advances. mixing work and pleasure like this, especially with someone like eddie, could only end one way. 

“i better get back in, y’ready?” holding the door open, a real gentleman, making you flustered of the most common of decencies. 

you were fucked. 

-

it’s hellish watching him perform. 

not just seeing everything his tight jeans had hidden away but also the way he truly cared about his partner. 

all the gentle touches to her face, cradling her body while completely disrespecting it too. globs of spit leaving his mouth to coat her cunt, making your thighs press together with indescribable want. 

he glances back between takes, making sure to catch your eye every single time. running his tongue over his bottom lip, knocking the air from your lungs without fail. 

you’d bore witness to many overdramatic, frankly fake orgasms in your years on set. very rarely did anything ever make you feel quite like you did today. screaming jealousy at her disappearing eyes, the way his lips brush against her ear, guiding her through her second orgasm of the session. 

it’s not loud, or irritating, just soft mewls accompanied by his soothing voice, making sure you were soaking right through your jeans. 

when eddie cums, his lips fall apart, head thrown back as his hips stutter, using her back as a canvas, jaw gritted together. 

“that was great!” tom yells, your makeshift director. ushering for you to hurry up with the towels and cold water. your fingers trembling as they brush against eddie’s. 

he offers a sweet thank you, quickly slipping back into his robe as you try to regain some semblance of control over yourself. 

you’re ridiculous, a giggly teenage girl more than a grown woman who watches people fuck for a living. this had solidified your position on ever calling him, and simply put, you couldn’t. 

in fact, you’re not certain you can even speak his name again, destined to live a life of perpetual wondering about what could have been. 

-

one glass of wine seemed to have been all it took to get eddie fucking munson back into your head. 

you’d done so well so far, managing to push the disgraceful thoughts way, way to the back of your mind, only for one measly glass of sauvignon blanc to destroy all of your progress. 

it’s not like you were actually going to call him, just toying with the idea, hovering over the button. a little foreplay, if you will. 

maybe you should. 

if one glass of wine was enough to have you already breaking the promise you’d made to yourself, who’s to say what years and years of unknowing would do? 

eddie was interested first, he came onto you first. there’s no doubt he’d be as eager as you were, but you still can’t help the niggling sounds of apprehension. 

the tone is dialling before you can second guess yourself and end it, fingers trembling around your phone, as if it were a ticking time bomb awaiting detonation. 

it rings a couple times before it clicks, connecting the call, “hello?” his voice echoes, thick and as intoxicating as the first time you heard it. 

your lips move yet produce no sound. reluctantly hoping he’ll think it’s a prank call and block the number. 

“eddie,” the first word to form on your tongue, potentially the worst thing you could’ve said. 

“it’s you,” his smile evident, even through the phone, “i was hopin’ you’d call,” you can hear the hustle and bustle of the restaurant now, he mumbles something to a passing waiter about the bill and now suddenly you feel immensely guilty about calling him on a saturday night.

“i’m sorry- am i interrupting something?”

“not at all,” and you can hear him smile all over again.

but what you don’t see is him glancing over at the busty redhead still at the table, waving back at her innocuous wiggle of the fingers. 

“what’re you doing tonight?” he asks, leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“nothing really.. i mean, if you’re not busy, maybe you could.. or we could do something?” wanting to die the second the words leave your lips. 

“that sounds good to me,” his audible grin unwavering, “how ‘bout i come over?” 

you freeze, looking around at the mess surrounding you, piles of paperwork and clothes litter the floor, resembling somewhat of a dumpster rather than an apartment. 

“..you don’t want me to, that’s okay,” answering his own question. 

“-no!” interjecting before he could change his mind entirely, “you should come over,” turning into a desperate little slut before he’d ever even touched you. 

eddie pauses, his feet shuffling in the background, “okay,” voice intoxicatingly thick, “give me thirty minutes and i’m all yours.” 

all yours. 

christ. 

you can feel your knees buckle, turning into putty in his hands. 

“o-okay, i’ll send you the address,” ending the call before you fumble this any further. 

immediately springing up from the mattress, deciding that the one and only time you’re going to mix work and pleasure must be perfect. you work on grabbing piles of clothes, shoving them back into the closet they belonged in. 

eddie wouldn’t care, would he? 

perhaps keeping stuff to the living room would be better, the tiny couch would make do. 

-

thirty minutes practically on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. 

oh god oh god oh god. 

this was a mistake. 

you should shut off all the lights and just pretend you’re not home. 

don’t be so silly. 

cursing the self-sabotaging thoughts, damned to make you second guess every single thing about yourself. 

your head peaks around the open gap, eyes falling on his chest to rise up and meet his daunting eyes. there’s a bottle of wine tucked beneath his arm, the half bottle you’d downed beforehand completely unbeknownst to him. 

eddie blinks, his lips cocked to the side, “well hello,” dressed far too nicely for a drunken booty call at your apartment. 

“hi,” utterly meek and pathetic, swooning over his suave greeting. 

“you look good,” gaze trailing down to your bare legs. you hadn’t expected him to be so put together, now regretting your choice of what was essentially just pyjamas. 

“tha-thank you,” pulling the door open wider, “come in, please,” stepping back to let him inside. 

the air thickens immediately, your clothes suddenly too tight and your palms clammy. if you ever wanted eddie to stay interested in you, you’d have to get ahold of yourself quick. 

“nice,” he saunters around the room, looking at your pictures and the other piles of accumulated artefacts ok your shelves. settling just before the couch to turn and smile. “you live alone?” 

you nod automatically, the air sucked from your lungs at the sheer sight of him in your apartment. it felt like some strange crossover dream that really should’ve stayed unexplored. 

“that’s good to know,” helping himself into the kitchen, opening cabinets to presumably find two wine glasses. 

you brush off his comments, it was no secret as to what he was here for. “top left,” arm brushing against his as you make your way into the small space. 

musk and a hint of lingering cigarette smoke waft your direction, decidedly not turning to sniff his jacket like you so wished you could. 

“care to join me?” offering the bottle out in your direction. 

if you were even just an inch braver, you’d create some witty come back, some utterly irresistible flirty banter that’d surely have him crawling on his knees for you. 

but you aren’t, so instead you nod, hoping you won’t resemble such a wallflower all night. 

-

“can’t believe a pretty girl like you was gonna spend a saturday night all alone,” eddie gushes, a quarter of his wine sipped away. 

it’s incredibly hard to remain stoic when his eyes are crescent-moons, lashes cascading shadows over his cheeks and his tongue periodically wets his plump bottom lip. a routine he's no doubt mastered the art of by now.

“i’m always..” gesturing into thin air, unfortunately aware that whatever came out of your mouth next would make you look like a pathetic loser, “i mean, i go out sometimes..” making matters worse tenfold. 

“really?” 

why’d you open your mouth? 

“no.. i work a lot so..” clearing your throat in a bid to make him forget you’d ever spoken. “i hope i didn’t interrupt anything..” shrugging softly, though you’d already known you had done. 

“i was out for dinner.. nothing important,” brushing you off, “she wasn’t exactly.. uh, great company,” laughing into his glass of red. 

the cogs turn, sudden realisation that you had interrupted a date. and he’d let you. 

“you were on a date,” cringing at yourself, frustratedly embarrassed for no good reason, “i’m sorry- fuck, you should’ve said,” wanting to die a thousand deaths. 

he looks utterly perplexed, “if i wanted to be there, i’d be there, alright?” patting your thigh, the first of his daring moves, “i wanted to see you,” thumb circling the soft skin. 

already making you melt half an hour in. you were toast. there’s positively no way you’ll make it out of here with your dignity in tact. 

“..okay,” bashfully nodding along to his heavy words, seldom to back down so easily. there’s just something about eddie munson and his doe eyes that turns you into a submissive mess. 

his hand doesn’t move from your knee, tracing circles around the bone, “you’re so beautiful and you don’t even know it, do you?” trying his hardest to meet your averted gaze. 

fuck. 

your cheeks burn, pussy already throbbing and he had scarcely touched you yet. how was it possible for him to be so sweet? his words thick like molasses, dripping, leaving their mark all over you. 

“i’m just..” what has gotten into you? this was pathetic. “you’re very kind eddie,” smiling gently, as if his words hadn’t sent you into cardiac arrest. 

he hums, a deep noise from the bottom of his chest, “say my name again sweetheart,” purring, toying with coming closer, “i like it better when you say it.” 

you’d scream it if he wanted you to. let all your neighbours know who was making you act like such a fool. 

“you don’t have to sweet talk me.. you’re already sat on my couch,” finding the last lingering ebbing of confidence to bite back. 

eddie laughs, deep and rumbling, “but i like seeing you squirm.”

oh god. 

had he trained in this? he’s so quick witted, bouncing off of whatever you say immediately. 

“you’re so..” trailing off into silence as you meet his heavyset gaze, intimidated and fazed all at once. 

“so.. what, sweetheart?” cocking his head to the side, alongside his lips. 

you hate him. 

his overwhelming confidence, his gaze that has your heartbeat in your throat and your fingers clawing at your thigh. there was something so intimidating and yet oddly charming about his presence.

“so annoying,” biting back, only really annoyed that he had successfully woo’d you. and without much effort at all.

eddie looks vaguely hurt for a moment, only for his grin to spring right back onto his face, “i don’t think you mean that,” sucking on the backs of his teeth. 

you’d been caught out immediately, bowing your head to hide the inevitable flush. 

just fucking do it. 

the same nagging voice that had made you call him in the first place starts up again, louder this time. if his brazen flirting wasn’t enough to get you to make a move, what would be? 

choosing to grasp the moment as it is, refusing to allow him any more power over you for tonight.  

you charge forward, chest bashing into his equally as heaving chest, attempting to straddle his thighs until you’re stopped by his large palm groping your thigh. 

he breaks apart, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek, “it’s real sweet that you think you’re in charge,” quickly taking your wrists into his grasp, pushing against your pouncing stance to press your back against the couch instead. 

you let him, sinking into the cushions as he moves atop of you, hands skilfully skirting over your hips, tugging at your loose-fitting shorts. 

“oh darlin’, i’ve been waitin’ for this,” running his hands back up your doughy thighs, squeezing the pliant flesh on their way. 

you just about melt under the pressure of his sweet talk, allowing him the power to manoeuvre your body any which way he wanted. there’s a soft thunk as your sweatpants hit the floor, his hand spreading your legs to give him full view of your sodden panties. 

you’re not sure you’ve ever been as wet as you are now, positively drenched just by the feel of fingertips against your skin. 

eddie hums, large hands skirting your thighs, a soft squeeze to the doughy skin, “i really thought you’d never call,” slowly sinking down, leaving a trail of peppered kisses on his way, the tank top you’d slung on gives him perfect view of your hardened nipples, tugging the fabric until your tits fall out. 

“wouldn’t that have been such a shame?” continuing on, making you squirm with every lick of his lips, every last syrupy sweet word. 

his lips attach to the overly sensitive skin as his free hand palms the other, tongue twisting around the bud forcing the pathetic whimper from your throat. 

you can feel him smile against your chest, mouth popping off just to lock around the other, continuing his descent down between your legs. 

he pries your thighs apart, looking up at your skittish eyes, jumping from object to object as the pressure in your clit worsens. 

his lips startle you, warm and wet on the pliant skin, sucking and nibbling until he reaches the hem of your shorts. “you dressed up f’me,” hooking his fingers into the waistband, a short tap on your hip has them jumping up to help him. 

eddie glides them down your legs, holding onto your ankle as the fabric hits the ground. his pretty pink lips curve upward before pecking the soft cotton clothing your cunt. he’s a genius, a master of his craft. you’re not at all shocked that women were lining up to have their turn. 

you quiver when he pulls away, thighs pressed together in a bid to satiate the ache left in his wake. 

his thumb traces your clothed slit, pressing into your hole just to come right back up and circle your clit. it’s almost as if you can feel your brain chemistry changing with every single touch, destined to haunt every other encounter you’d have after this. 

no one had nor would ever touch your body with such sincerity and care again. it just wasn’t possible. 

arousal seeps out, turning the gray coloured cotton darker, literally dripping with want for him. 

your hands come up to hide your warm face, covering your eyes, mostly as an excuse to cut the weighted eye contact he hadn’t once broken. 

but his hands are fast, faster than yours. coming to pull yours right back down again, scolding you for even trying it. “don’t do that.. please don’t do that.”

you nod, vowing to do nothing to piss him off again. eddie’s a professional at best, a whore at worst. he knows what’ll get you whirring, knows where to lay his fingers and in what tone to whisper his words. 

sickening. 

he smirks, one-sided, “i like that you don’t fight it,” trusting you enough to let go of your wrists, delving back between your plush thighs. 

words fail to form, overcome with such horniness that you can’t think straight. 

enough of the games, you want to bellow. 

touch me touch me touch me. 

you’re aching, clenching around nothing. the hollow emptiness driving you further and further into craziness. 

“can we..” sighing softly, losing your train of thought as quickly as it came, “i need you,” digging your nails into the poor couch. this cruel and twisted routine had to stop. 

“nuhuh,” eddie huffs, his warm breath splaying across your cunt, “i’m takin’ my sweet time with you,” using his middle and forefinger this time to dance tauntingly over your pussy, grinning manically to himself. 

“but-,” cut off when his fingers curl around your panties, the cool, harsh air hitting your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“wow,” he marvels, looking lovesick at your slick folds, “she’s so pretty,” in awe of the sight before him. 

your self-consciousness had faded, losing to your disgustingly eager lust. he could do whatever, however he wanted to you. he just needed to do it quickly. 

his tongue peaks out over his lips, preparing for his feast, “you’ve been so patient,” stubble brushing against the inside of your sensitive thigh, “i think you deserve this.” 

with that, your panties come down, he doesn’t even need you to move, expertly manoeuvring them from your skin. he cradles the damp fabric between his fingers for a moment before sliding them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

you can’t protest, you don’t even want to. he was welcome to take whatever he wanted or needed. 

eddie wraps a hand around your calf, resting it upon his shoulder, repeating the motion as your feet settle on his upper back. his palm finds your thigh next, looping his arms around for leverage. 

he hums with pure sick, adulterated satisfaction, one last glance at your glistening cunt before meeting your gaze. “keep your eyes on me sweetheart,” kissing lazily at the skin, antagonistically slow to make his way up. 

your fingers lay on the couch, scared for what you can and can’t do. 

his tongue meets your folds, pulling you out of your worry and into the real world. fuck whatever his rules were, you needed to touch him. weaving frantic fingers through the curls on top of his head, receiving an encouraging hum of approval, his throat vibrating against your cunt. 

“oh my.. fuck,” panting into the abyss, unable to stop your hips from moving against his face. you’d fuck his face and any other time, he’d let you, but that wasn’t the plan. 

he clamps down on your wriggling hips, keeping them pressed to the couch, refusing to allow you any control over the situation. 

eddie’s lips attach to your poorly neglected clit, sucking gently at the bud, forcing the not-so-quiet moans out of your throat, fingers curling around the strands just to tug on them with every flick of his tongue. 

the knot in your stomach is tight already, threatening to snap at any moment. especially trying when the tip of nose nudges at your clit, sitting right on top while his tongue makes you see stars, circling around your hole and right back up between your folds. 

you’ve never been this wet in your life, arousal dripping from his chin to your ass and thighs. when he pulls away just briefly, his puffy lips gleam in the dim light of your apartment. it’s only momentary though, quickly diving back in to pull you over the edge. 

his tongue swipes thick stripes over your cunt, aching for something him to just fill you up. “shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth. your eyes struggle to stay open, he’d forgive you, right? it was no fault of yours that his tongue felt too good, drawing you to the edge just to rip it from under you. 

lolling your head back against the arm of the couch, no longer able to abide by his arbitrary rules. your thighs were trembling, fingertips entangled in his locks, nothing except your impending orgasm mattered. 

eddie voices his displeasure through a low grumble, only twisting the knot further as his tongue laps at your pussy. a ravenous dog of sorts, refusing to let up until you came on his tongue. 

“fu-uck eddie- i can’t.. i’m gonna cum,” vibrating against his ears, feeling his smile against your core. a sick, perverted man that had you exactly where he wanted. 

the band snaps, throwing you over the edge with a twist of the stomach, shaking legs that struggle to stay perched on his shoulders and a verse of soft pleas and eddie’s that resemble a hymn. 

“.. jesu- shit,” shuddering breaths and mewls that fill the room, letting him lap away at your spent cunt. your limbs mimic jelly, letting go of your hold on his hair to clasp his face. 

eddie re-emerges, licking his lips like a cat that got the cream. self-satisfied and completely smug. 

coming up to rest his chin on your heaving stomach with inquisitive eyes, his rough stubble catching on your tired skin, “worth the wait?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer. 

you nod, rather enthusiastically, “definitely worth it,” playing with the tufts of hair that make up his choppy bangs. 

“good,” biting down onto his bottom lip just to pull himself back up, “but i’m not done with you yet,” prying your legs open once more before peeling his shirt from his body, a sight you’ve seen and yet can’t behold. 

eddie presses his already stiff cock to your cunt, toying with his prey. there’s nothing left in you to fight it, laying back on the couch with a soft sigh. 

no man would ever live up to this, you were now cursed to an unsatisfactory life with whomever you settled for. 

his pants come off next, your eyes falling to the outline of his length immediately. eyeing the tiny dark patch and certainly not thinking about him cumming in his pants while eating your pussy. 

you’ve seen his cock, and yet, your lips still fall open when he tucks his boxers underneath his balls, fisting his throbbing piece while you go googly-eyed. 

“shit,” he remarks, one hand on your knee while the other glides his leaking tip through your slick folds. “no one’s ever been this wet f’me before,” practically purring, his tone thick and full of an animalistic need you had thought was only reserved for porn. 

the pleasure rumbles around your nervous system, only to land in your stomach, squeezing the already-snapped muscle once again. 

eddie’s hand slides from your knee, up to your thigh, giving your hip a well-meaning pinch before settling beside your head on the couch. your bodies melding into one as he comes down to meet you. 

his cock nestles in between once more, slipping inside with a harsh gasp and a visceral grunt. you settle for a grip of his taut shoulders, fingers curling around the muscles and smudgy black tattoos. 

this time, eddie buries his face into your neck, suckling at the soft skin, daring to leave his mark when his teeth come out to graze. you hope they last forever, marked by him for eternity. 

the sensation is all too much, struggling to stay afloat once more, pushed further and further to edge when his tongue swipes over the violet markings that littered your collarbone. 

“holy fuck princess,” he grumbles, partially muffled, “y’gonna cum again already?” breathing heavy and stuttered, struggling with his own premature orgasm. 

words don’t appear, and honestly, at this point they didn’t mean a thing. 

instead, you nod, squeezing his shoulder in a bid to communicate. you unravel all over again, drawn out moans that get cut off by his lips, thighs shaking around his midriff. 

eddie was drinking it all in, intercepting the sweet noises from your mouth with his own, rolling his hips at a more subdued pace as you cum again. 

you were spent, utterly exhausted though he doesn’t let up. once you’re over this climax, his rhythm finds pace again. soft palm caressing your cheek while his lips attach to your jaw bone, planting a hundred quick kisses along up to your ear. 

with one knee dug into the couch, the other leg holding him up from the floor, it couldn’t be very comfortable for him like this. your pleasure was first and foremost his priority, a real man. 

he grunts, driving into your cunt with little consideration for the creaky old couch or your neighbours just trying to enjoy their saturday evening. 

“oh god eddie,” you cry. tugging at his scalp, pathetically rutting back against his hips begging for your third? fourth? orgasm to take over. 

his carefully groomed pubes catch your clit, dampened by the sheer amount of your arousal. 

you were just about ready to sleep for forty days and forty nights, both exhausted and overstimulated by his cock, the weight of his body on top of you and smooth words flowing from his mouth. 

“one more sweetheart,” speaking between rugged grunts, panting with every sloppy stroke, “gimme one more,” he coos, hand sliding down to find your clit for the last time. 

his cock twitches inside when you buck back against him, fingernails leaving harsh strips on his back, leaving your mark for the next girl. 

“shitshitshit,” you rush, coming completely undone again, trembling around his cock, babbling what must sound like pure nonsense to eddie. no doubt letting all of your deepest secrets loose in your third moment of weakness.

“mhm that’s it,” letting his cock slide all the way out, just to reach the hilt over and over again. “inside?” was all he needed to huff for you to get the message, too incoherent to ask any further questions. 

“ye-yes please,” not quite understanding the weight of your words until they leave your mouth. a problem for tomorrow. 

with that, eddie topples over, his orgasm rippling through his limbs and his cock pumping thick ropes of his release inside your exhausted pussy. your cries intertwining in the hot air to create a chorus line of pleasure. 

“jesusfuckingchrist,” he heaves, collapsing in a fit of exhaustion. a sticky pile of limbs that starts with you and ends somewhere with eddie. 

everything feels surreal, the light is gleaming and you sort of feel as if you’re floating, watching him pepper your skin with quick kisses and slot himself comfortably on the cramped couch. 

eddie cradles your body, fixing your top to give you back the tiniest bit of dignity you had left. 

he hums, contemplating something, “‘m glad you called,” swooning, “i don’t know what i’d have done if you hadn’t,” positioning himself underneath your body, a strong arm coming to wrap around your shaking shoulder. 

“you would’ve just had to live without me,” chuckling into the sweaty skin of his chest, embracing the lingering arrogance. 

eddie hums before shaking his head, “nuhuh, we would’ve met again somehow,” running his finger up and down the length of your arm. 

“oh, you think?”

“no, i know,” oozing with confidence. you simply can’t hate it because he’s right. 

there’s no instance that your soul would’ve let you rest until this had happened.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Stoner!Choso x reader

Cw: smut

My stoner Choso is a loser and I love him like this 🤧

“You look stressed,” Choso says, looking at you as he leaned against his car. “It was a stressful day,” you retorted, leaning against his car right next to him. He gives you a small smile as he takes a hit from the blunt between his fingers. 

You and Choso were friends. Really close friends. That was it. Both of you too scared to even say anything for the sake of your friendship. You were okay with this, he liked hanging out with you and so did you. But sometimes you catch yourself thinking, what would it be like to be more.  To be his. Would your relationship really change? You both already acted so much like a couple. 

The blunt comes slowly down from his lips, he looks over to you and smirks. You knew what he was about to do. “NO” you say suddenly, as he comes closer to blow the smoke in your face. “Ew, Cho. You know I hate that shit,” you remark as you try to waft the smoke out of your face. “I know,” he replies with a deep chuckle with no amount of remorse. “Want a hit?” he quickly asks, holding up the blunt. You think for a good few seconds but, obviously too long for how impatient Choso is because he’s already holding the blunt to your mouth already. “Go,” he encourages you as you begin inhaling. “Woah, woah slow down,” he smirks, removing the blunt from your lips. He watches you attentively as you exhale, studying your face as you glare at him. “I don’t like that,” you say with a small cough. 

He gives you a shit-eating grin before he takes another hit. “Wanna hear music then? Might help you relax,” he looks over to you once again exhaling the smoke. “I guess,” you say as you watch him walk over to the driver's side to turn on the car. He shifts through songs until he finds one he's sure you'd both like. “This good?” he asks as he hops out of the car. As you nod he sticks his hand out to you. “What?” you laugh. “Dance with me,” he requests. You can’t help but think how cute he looks, like a puppy with those big brown eyes begging you. “You’re high,” you scoff, giving him a smile. “No…” he grins again, taking your hands and pulling you closer into him.

You dance together, both of you high out of your minds with clumsy steps. Stepping on his feet more than you’d liked to admit, but you still notice the way he looks at you. His eyes half closed, slightly red, gazing intently at you. Lips slightly chapped and parted, his hair down, head slightly tilted as you feel him leaning in closer and closer into you. Your heart beats faster as you become more conscious of his hands. Wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he is afraid you’ll run away from him. 

And before you know it, you're making out with him against his car. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers threading through his soft brown strands, while his hands gently trace any exposed skin he can find as his other hand holds your thigh up, pulling you closer to him. Kisses growing hotter and more needy, he can’t help but slowly grind into you. Desperate for some type of friction against his hard-on and you gladly meet his sudden movements. Bodies pressed together as they move in a rhythmic motion, unable to stop the urge to get closer to each other. Choso leaves your lips with a small tug. “More… more please,” he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

Placing small kisses on your neck, you can’t help but give into him. Especially once you’re in his car, windows all fogged up, and his fingers deep inside you. “So pretty f’me” he coos as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Does.. does it feel good?” he hesitantly asks. “Yes, yes, so good cho.” As you make his confidence spike with your praise, he turns you over so you're now face to face sitting on him. “Please, can you please ride me?” he begs you, flashing you once again those big brown eyes. And who are you to deny this pretty boy… 

“Fu- fuck… baby,” Choso whines, trying to buck his hips up into you. “Wait, be patient cho,” you line up his cock to your entrance and slowly move down onto him. “So pretty,” Choso gawks at you as his hands come up to your tits. A string of curses escape your mouth as you finally take him all. His hands wrap around you to keep you in place as your back arches. “Can I move inside you now?” he asks, confusion spreading across your face. “I’m supposed to move…” you question. His hands quickly grip at the flesh on your hips. 

“Can’t” thrust “Wait” thrust. 

Choso loses control and continues to thrust into you roughly. Moving his hands to your ass, he lifts you up and down on his cock. Your tits bouncing in his face with every hard thrust. Without a second thought, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Tongue skillfully swirling around it as he sucks it, still pumping into you relentlessly. He's left you speechless, all you could do was moan at the way he was using you. One of his hands from your ass comes up.

Smack

His hand comes down hard on your ass. He does it a few more times, each slapping leaving a slight red mark on your hot flesh. Still pounding you merciless, he attaches his lips to you once again. “M’so close… so close” he mumbles through the kiss. “Can I cum please?” he groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck, you’re getting so tight,” he whines and you could almost swear you see tears if it wasn’t so damn dark. You finally give him a nod as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. A chant of thank you’s fly out his mouth.

“Thank you.. thank.. you,” he whimpers as he fills you up. His warm cum mixing with your wetness, attempting to drip down your thighs. Both of you panting heavily as he pulls out. Choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. “Can.. can i taste you?”

Your jaw drops slightly as his sudden request. “You want to eat me out? After how hard you just fucked me?” you ask as you take notice of his little grin. 

Somehow he managed to lay you down… as comfortably as he could and went to town. Burying his face between your legs. His tongue flick up and down, tasting you. Lapping up both your arousal and his own cum. “So.. greedy cho,” you tease him, watching how pussy drunk he’s  getting. “I love.. love.. love so much,” he hums into your cunt, sending vibrations through it. 

“You talking to my pussy or me?” you laugh softly and you tangle your fingers through his hair. “Both..” he mumbles, refusing at all to come up for air. He continues to fuck you with his tongue. Eating you out as if you were his last meal. He notices as you arch your back, quickly picking up the pace because he knew you were so close. “Cum on my face.. please,” he groans. And you do just that. You cream all over his pretty face. “You taste so good,” he whispers, feeling his hot breath on your pussy. He looks down at his work, admiring how fucked out you look. He helps you sit back up, being as gentle as he could be. “Look, we made my windows all foggy,” he smiles as his finger comes up to draw a heart. “You’re so dumb,” you giggle. 

[lovebugism]

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player. 

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway. 

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt. 

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole. 

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw. 

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that. 

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

[nemesyaaa]

western nights // mean!S2!barry x kook!reader x s2!rafe

summary ; /

warnings ; mentions and using of drugs. kinda violence. barry doesn't give a shit about pogue/kook thing. threesome(mxmxf/switch). smut without real plot. shotgunning (smoking). choking. double p in v. boys kissing (if you see that challengers reference, no you don't.), oral (f&m receiving.). scars mentions. threats.(3k words.). be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i want rafe and barry back as a chaotic duo for S4 part 2, please. it's a threat, not a request. im watching you obx screenwriters.

“someone you know very well owes me money.”

you looked up from your line of cocaine in a loud snort, before sitting comfortably on the bed while rubbing your nose to clean it quickly.

"and how does that concern me barry? you have your business, i have mine. and by the way, are you stalking my clients because you're losing yours ? ”

“ you’re such a fucking ungrateful princess. let me remind you that it’s because of me that you even have a business in the first place. you were nobody before i helped you, it doesn’t matter how much of a kook you are in this business.”

"wow.. someone’s got an attitude. it's not my fault your boy chose me over you.”

"yeah, he’s gonna regret that when you fuck him over."

“and why would i do that?”

he approached you, a big blunt falling out of his lips, before leaning toward you, made you feel quietly small. a short breath escaped your throat while you shivered. a smile with a wicked expression on his eyes showed on his face. “ still afraid of me. why ? it’s been a long time since i’ve had to put you in your place. you still got that scar? ” with a sick, softened voice, he added just over your lips. “that expensive makeup covers it up real good.”

“ what do you want, barry ? ”

in the intimacy of silence between the two of you, he pressed a thumb in the corner of your lips, letting his finger open it a little wider, before pulling out and blowing smoke directly into your mouth, letting your tongue disappear on the shot.

you scoffed, before your throat had swallowed the smoke. “ i want my money. and you're gonna do what i ask you. ”

“ and if i don’t ? ”

“ you don’t have much of a choice actually.”

barry placed himself above you, more threatening than when he welcomed you into his home. you placed a hand on his chest before responding calmly. “ don't be mad at me. it's your own fault you decided to trust him. why are you giving him free shit? you know he can afford it. and don’t give any of that ‘he said he’ll bring the money next time’ bullshit, when has rafe cameron ever been trustworthy?”

“ y/n. don’t start shit you can’t finish. ” he warned.

"what do you want me to do? you have a gun, and no reputation to preserve, if you want to shoot him, he's all yours. don't involve me in this. i'm having a good relationship with my client, do not mess it up. "

“do you think it’s that easy, princess?” he laughed nervously. "obviously. you really think I can get away with taking out Rafe Cameron?”

"i just think if you really wanted to, you would. Since when does Rafe scare you anyway? "

"i had a little disagreement with ward. it’ll just be easier if you handle it."

“what do i gain from all this?”

“It’s your choice. But we’ll talk about it when we’re out of this situation.”

you sighed. the next day, you invited rafe cameron to your house. like every time you called him, he came back.

“ so, where’s the coke ? ” he asked. “ tell me you have something for me. ”

"obviously I do, I'm a dealer, what did you expect ? But do I have any for you ? that's another question. ” you frowned. your gaze was on his beaten puppy face, his eyes were glinting, completely desperate, and his voice was almost pleading and nervous. “ i think i’ve been too nice to you, rafe. maybe i should be mean for once. look at this scar you have, should i give you another one? because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t behave. ”

“I’m begging you, please. i'm gonna pay you back.”

"begging already? wow. tell me why i should believe you’re pay me back?”

“ just trust me. you know i have money, i just have to get it.”

“ i have no reason to trust you. “ you shook your head with a tsk tsk that meant you didn’t believe him. he was a pathological liar, it was in his nature to save his ass with lies.

you laughed in frustration, making him raise an eyebrow. "you’re gonna pay me back, huh? I’m not even the only person you owe money to. is this about what we did last time?”

“If i can recall, you were enjoying yourself just fine.” he cut in.

"rafe. you have nothing to offer me. to tell you the truth, if I really needed money, there are ways I can get it. So whatever is going on here, it’s not fair because you’re getting something out of it and I’m not.”

"I told you, I’m gonna pay you back, just please, give it to me. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

"We’re going to try this another way. I’ll see you tomorrow and if you have the money you owe us then you’re good. And I’ll take care of you again.”

you kicked him out of your house. the next day, he showed up in your room as you were coming out of your shower. you planned to procrastinate all day before he stormed off like crazy.

"What are you doing? You think you can show up here like this?”

“I have your fucking money. now, i want my coke. i did what you wanted me to do ! ”

you smiled, while giving a pat on his curtain bangs. “ good job, pretty boy. ”

“where’s the coke? give it to me. ”

“i don’t have any.” you replied.

rafe laughed, a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. he took a few steps towards you, pushing you against the wall.

“rafe?”

“where’s the fucking coke? ”

“dude, are you high?” you asked, suddenly unwell by the rising tension you can't feel through the air. “ i just tol...”

he was mad, more than that, frustrated. the way you played with his feelings, you were making him go around in circles. and his hands began to irritate him, to make him wickedly agitated. which meant that he was gradually losing control because you were showing that it was you who had the power. he was just asking for drugs, only a little. it was such a small ask in his eyes, just a fucking line how you gave him some every time he came. like a child's whim, you couldn't take away from him what you had always given him. from his point of view, it was not okay.

and the thing was, you were doing it just now. he felt a horrible chaos inside him which made him spiral. his hands fell terribly on your throat, fingers wrapping in tight around you like a collar.

"i just asked you a question. and you better hope your answer is what i want to hear, because if it’s not this isn’t gonna be fun for you.” he whispered, his lips softly ghosting over yours.

“you’re scaring me….rafe ”

“ good, maybe now you’ll show me some fucking respect.”

he grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to bend your knees so that you were at his feet. you coughed, and he responded with a smirk.

“i don’t have your fucking coke. "

“but you know what, that’s not fair. i held up my end of the deal, o got your money and you don’t have my coke.”

he slipped each of the bills against your tongue down to the exact amount he owed you, forcing your mouth to stay open.

"not having so much fun now, huh?”

“ what a great surprise, my two favorite people in the same place. " had commented a voice behind the kook.

it was barry. you and rafe both shivered. at the same time.

“what the hell is this ?” rafe replied.

“relax country club, i didn’t come to give you a hard time. ”

“so why are you here ?” Rafe replied.

you spat the money back into your mouth and barry came closer to you.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you replied.

"so you're stealing my clients, you're taking my money and what more, you're lying to me?" barry had wisely articulated.

“wait, what do you mean?”

“shut up, rafe.”

“barry, it’s not what you think.”

"that's exactly what i believe. but you know what I believe even more? is that you need to be taught a fucking lesson.yeah, spoiled, rich girls like you need to learn that they can't play with everyone. come on, country club. ”

“barry.” you started. " listen..."

"I would love to listen to you, princess but I'm going to have a hard time doing once i fill that pretty mouth with my cock."

“what?” you retorted.

" oh you know, i'm in a grear mood. you seem to really enjoy playing with people around you. guess today, it's just my turn to play. i'm also thinking we should invite rafe to this game. would be fair actually. will princess be able to say sorry after being her nasty mouth being fucked to death ? ” replied barry by pulling you by the side of your face, hair caged in his grip, making you gasp.

“ pretty sure, bitch like her can. ”

" you're too high to even know where you put your dick. ” you said.

“ very funny. ”he laughed in a sarcastic way, before pulling his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach, following his movement by plunging it straight into your mouth, one hand with rings covering your throat, pressed tightly his fingers against the back of your neck. “still funny?” he continued as he pushed himself even deeper, feeling his dick deep down in the inside of your pleasing mouth widening around him. “ can't even answer now. ”

Barry smiled before undressing his pants, guiding your hand to his own cock. you quickly got the hang of it, starting to masturbate him, your free hand circled around his full length stroking back and forth, all the while having rafe’s thick length, lodged hard in your throat.

your fist was wrapped around barry’s cock, fingers tightening and sliding around his girth quickly while rafe was buried completely inside your mouth, fucking you faster on the tongue. you already started to get soaked on the inside of your thighs, the wet forming a damp spot on the fabric of your underwear.

both boys stood in front of you, above your kneeling position while you were at their commands. barry invited himself into your mouth, his cock next to rafe's hitting your dripping, sloppy tongue. their two dicks were working your throat at the same time, same pace as your muscle rolled over the two shafts that stretched you open. you could feel the weight of their lengths filling your stuffed mouth. your face was weeping with spit and saliva.

you grabbed their cocks with your free hands, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your fingers, their grunts hovering in the room.

your mouth was completely blocked by the growing size of their dick. rafe smeared all the drool from your mouth on your face, before spitting on your tongue, followed by barry. you touched them both while continuing to deepthroat the two boys. you let your tongue run on the veiny flesh of their dick, trailing your wet muscle around their veins, followed by balls lapping. your received both of their cocks so well like you were always made for this. you coughed several times, letting a trickle of saliva slip from your jaw. they both pulled out, before slapping their cocks on your drooling cheeks. your face was pressed with tears, running down your skin to the floor.

“don’t be lazy, open your legs. ” ordered rafe.

you had spread your thighs, leaving them with a full view of your glistening pussy. “ but look at you, already so wet, soaking like a mess when neither rafe or me already touched you. ” barry mocked.

rafe pushed your glossy lips apart with two fingers making you suck on them, stuffing you full in the mouth to the throat and barry found a place between your legs, and trailed his tongue against your folds filled with wetness that poured over his face.

he traced your clit, before eating out your hole that was pulsing against his messy mouth, the way his tongue licked your slit, slurping in and out, before circling your beating clit. his lips were wrapped around you, dirty lapping your cunt as rafe taking his thick fingers deeper in your throat to the point you choked on them. he cleaned them with his own mouth, before diving his thumb in your lips. the corner of your mouth were foaming as he roughly brushed his digits inside your cavity, two fingers fucking your tongue and throat, as barry widly sucking your cunt. your taste were flowing and he keeping it before kissing you slowly, let in drip back in your mouth.

“ do not swallow it. i bet country club wants a taste of you…” he commented, through the kiss.

without swallowing, you kissed rafe, moving your lips against his and released your tongue over his own. you were over the moon, both of them kissing you, tongue mixed with streams of saliva, and nasty spits.

you placed your hand through your slit, before pushing your fingers against rafe's mouth, forcing him to open wider while you do the same with your other hand with barry's mouth, feeding the two boys with your juice flowing around their hanged jaw. you rushed your digits further in their throat, as they gasped around them. you were so turned on, the way they were literally drooling like dogs over your hands was making you feel insane.

you slowly pulled out your hands as their faces got closer to each other, while watching them kissing through your dirty fingers. you watched them with a twisted smile, as rafe hand reached the throat of barry, his thumb running over his cheek. your gaze was focused on them, and your ears filled with the wet and horny sound of them licking each other. that was hot, and you hated how hot it was. “ are you gonna fuck or should i do it all the work myself ? ”

“ want to be fucked so bad ? ” cutted rafe.

“ is my legs open enough for you, rafe ? ” you said, teasing him flirty.

“ she's really asking for it. ” answered barry.

“ which one's gonna fuck me first ? ”

they both laughed at you as you said something very funny. you raised an eyebrow.

“ you're gonna take us.”

“ it's not gonna fit. ”

“ it's gonna fit. because that pussy is tired of being tight. ”

when they started fucking you it made the heat rise inside you. your whole body was horribly hot, their two cocks were both pressed and stuck in the same hole. you gripped the sheets with your fist, while they stretched your weeping pussy over and over, shoving every inch of their cocks into your soaking pussy. your head was spinning as you lost yourself completely, your flesh smushed onto the mattress. both wrecked your canal, and hitting every one of your spots. you felt strange spasms, a mixture of pleasure and pain as you trembl d and moaned under their thrusts.

“ don't fucking cry, you're the one who wanted those cocks inside you. was too mean to do what your pussy begged for ? too late. neither rafe nor i are going to stop. ” shouted barry while ramming his hips against you in a brutal stroke, making you whine harder.

“ pl-please…”

“ the only thing you need to “ please please ” is for us to fuck you even harder. ” continued the curtain bangs one with a sick smile around his lips.

rafe shutted you cries with a rough snap of his hips, his firm body slammed into yours, while barry next to him, pounded you in the same raw way. his hair was messy as yours, unbrushed and bouncing against his shoulders, as the air became more hotter. you were crying and panting for breath like a crybaby, tits swaying while your vision was getting blurred.

the kook one grabbed your face, hollowing your cheeks with his fingers, before spitting in your open mouth, watching his globe of saliva dripping from your glossy lips. inspired, barry spat on rafe's mouth, forbid him to swallow with his hand brushed on his partner jaw before letting the spit drooling over your mouth.

the pace sped up, as your pussy squeezed them like a vice, the room filled with the wet smacking sounds of your core getting speared roughly. they were fucking you deeply, your cunt dripping around them as they thrusted into you back and forth, all spots getting touch.

next position, you were bouncing on rafe's dick, big hand tugged on your hips, your ass jiggling against and slamming into his large spreaded thighs, as barry letting you suck on his dick. you were giddy, feeling overheated, messing everywhere on both of them. they were working on each part of your body, the overstimulation draining you.

“ suck it well, pretty thing.” he grabbed your jaw, his glare locked into your teary eyes. “ don't forget that you have still another free hole. and trust me, you don't want two cocks in. ”

your mouth found barry's cock, tongue out and wrapped around his crazy shaft, as you slowly pushed your muscle above his tip. you were now used to it, and sucked it directly to the throat, you spitting on it before licking to feel the size hitting the deep of your neck. you were like a dizzy free-use doll that were fucked to heaven.

you placed the dick of barry between your swayed tits that was unstoppable because of rafe's hard strokes on your sloppy cunt. your cunt that was actually filled by his large cock. before starting to pump the dealer with your boobs, you caged the painful boner in the middle of your breasts, and pressed them to the bulging girth before moving up and down quickly. when you heard his raspy grunts near your ears, his mouth and breath brushed your sensitive skin, you accelerated the pace, leaving him growling speechless.

few minutes later, he came around your neck, painting your flesh with white loads. rafe released his cum in you five minutes after, while kissing you, swallowing every breath of yours.

you fell on your back, completely exhausted. “ you guys…are crazy…”

“ just the beginning. ”

[rafesbbdoll]

high all the time . rafe cameron

warnings . mentions of weed, inexperienced!reader (with smoking), softdom!rafe, after sex, NOT PROOFREAD

wc. 595

you were as innocent as can be in the public's eye. you never drank, never smoked, never stole, never disobeyed any laws. you only ever had sex with rafe since he was your first and last relationship and he planned on keeping it that way.

it was 1 AM as you and rafe sat on the balcony outside of his room, just having cleaned up after he fucked you. you were straddling his waist as he sat on the chair, both still naked but covered by a blanket. you were talking quietly about your plans for tomorrow with him as he lit up a joint as he listened.

one of his hands rested on your bare hip, the other holding the joint up to his lips. "i was thinking we could go to the beach together," you said looking into his eyes. your hands rested on his chest as your eyes followed the blunt that was in his mouth. you fell silent, watching as he continued.

he watched your eyes, taking another hit before releasing into the air. "what's on your mind, pretty girl?"

you bit the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking, "wanna try," you said, motioning to the blunt in his hand. your hands moved to wrap around his neck as you watched his lips turn into a soft smirk.

rafe nodded before moving you to sit in his lap properly before handing you the blunt. you eyed it for a second before listening to his instructions. "just bring it to your lips and inhale," he gently said, his free hand rubbing your back. you nodded before bringing it to your lips and inhaling slowly. when you removed it, you let out a few coughs, giving it back to him while shaking your head.

rafe chuckled softly, "breathe, baby." you shook your head, your coughing fit dissipating as you turned your head back to him. "it burned my throat," you frowned. rafe nodded, taking another hit himself before blowing out the smoke. "it'll burn the first few times but then you'll get use to it," he said, setting it down. he moved your body again, making you straddle him as you continued to talk.

you didn't feel the high at first, thinking that you were talking normally to rafe. you had taken a few more hits with rafe's assistance, giggling as you were talking. rafe just smiled at you as you repeated the same words to him. "can we go to the beach tomorrow?" "at the beach, i want to tan." "we could swim at the beach, rafey."

your speech was slurred, eyes blinking slowly, movements getting sluggish. rafe had picked you up, bringing you both back into his room to lay you on his bed. "where is the blunt?", you asked as he laid you down. rafe chuckled, moving to lay beside on, his head resting on his elbow. "i put it out, princess. i think you're high enough."

you huffed, "i don't even feel it." rafe shook his head, bringing you closer to him, resting your head on his chest. "shh, baby. we'll go to the beach tomorrow and you can smoke again," he said softly. you just hummed in response.

you continued to talk throughout the night, talking nonsense to rafe. he gave you hums of acknowledgment, letting you know that he was still listening. you eventually fell asleep on rafe, getting the best sleep of your life. rafe just smiled at you, looking forward to your beach day tomorrow as well as getting you high again.

i wanna get high with rafe

[eyesxxyou]

First Time 💋

🩸・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, explicit consent, blood, taking of virginity, a bit of toxic relationship dynamics, logan is not a good person, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

You were dealing with the devil in disguise and you didn't even know it. For even the devil was once an angel, the most beautiful angel in heaven. That’s the way he tempts even the purest souls into damnation. And you were his latest victim.

Your purity was hanging by the thinnest thread called “virginity” which you were steadfast in not giving up. Logan wasn't pushing it by any means. Slowly but surely, you were giving up pieces of yourself to him. Giving away slices of your precious soul until before even you knew it, you had given him your entire cake. In fact, he had taught you how to give a blow job, confined you to let him hump against your clothed pussy, then eventually against the bare thing.

Logan was growing ever closer to obtaining you, possessing you wholly.

You had already gone home for the night when there was a steady, polite knock at his door. Logan, with a cigar hanging from between his lips, initially thought it was you. That was how you knocked, with a small rhythm and a tender politeness.

But much to his dismay, when he opened the door, Logan found that it was not you, but your father standing before him, still dressed in his Sunday best.

Now, for a moment, Logan thought that this was it. You had either been caught or in some sort of religious guilt, you had confessed everything. Either way, he was sure he had been busted and your father had come to wreak havoc upon him. Either way, he wasn't scared. At the end of the day you were two grown people who had made their decisions. 

“Mr. Howlett, nice to see you again.” Your father smiled. There was no malice or ill intent. You were both in the clear. Logan took his cigar from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray beside the door. “I hope I’m not disturbing your night.” He could see where you got your politeness from. Your father was a good, mild-mannered man. Average on all accounts. But he made a spectacular girl of you.

“Not at all, Reverend.”

Your father, with his hands crossed nicely at his front, was smiling politely. Logan wondered if he knew you had just been here. He wondered if he knew that he had his daughter on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Did he know that he came on your face? Did he know that your mouth felt like heaven?

“I was wondering if you could come by my house tomorrow. Unfortunately we have a bit of an issue with the pipes in our kitchen. I wanted to know if you could take a look.” It was innocent enough but the idea of being in your house made Logan almost swell and explode. He tried to hide the smile, the enthusiasm behind his “sure, I can take a look”.

“Great, thank you for your kindness, Mr. Howlett.” Logan can almost hear your voice in his. Small, quaint, unassuming. “You can come over in the morning. My family and I will be out but we'll leave the door unlocked so you can get in.”

Logan closed the door as your father walked off his porch, already looking forward to tomorrow morning. He thought of how he’d make his way through your house, into your room. He imagined going into your drawers and taking a pair of your pretty little panties to keep for himself. He imagined getting in your bed and jerking off until he came, right on your pillow.

He was up bright and early the next morning. With a small handle of whiskey to wake him up, Logan was out the door by 10 am with his toolbag in hand, a cigar hidden away so he could smoke out the back when he needed to take a break.

Your house was far different than his, bigger, painted a light blue with pastel yellow shudders and a white trim. It was the picture perfect house containing a picture perfect family. What a terrible person he must be to infiltrate such a home.

Your Father said the door would be unlocked. Your family car wasn't in the driveway, you all must have left already. Logan, with laborious steps, made his way up your porch, white wood, a few rocking chairs and a table where you must have put out lemonade and watched the sun go down.

He welcomed himself inside. Your house smelled like wilting roses and antiques. There were crosses everywhere, Bible verses on boards and Rae Dunn as far as the eye could see. Standard, religious, suburban home. He saw nothing out of place from your old brown couch to your wallpaper, pretty and bright.

Logan considered if he should work on your faulty pipes first or take his sick pleasure in your room. After a moment, he adjusted his grip on his toolbag and made his way through your living room and into your kitchen. He’d wait until he got the job done, then take his sweet time in your room. He’d make it a reward.

As it turns out, it was quite simple. You had the wrong piece for the pipe under your kitchen sink and it was connected incorrectly. Logan was halfway beneath your sink when he heard bare feet padding about the hardwood in the living room. He came out, a large hand on the counter to help himself up. His bones weren't what they used to be.

You had come rounding the corner into the tiled kitchen, dressed in nothing but a pretty, little, pale, pink nightgown that stopped at your mid-thigh. You paused at the sight of him, eyes wide and startled like a deer in headlights. “Mr. Howlett?” Sweet little thing, your arms went to cross over your chest, obviously not covered by a bra as he could see the peaks of your nipples poking against the fabric.

Stumbling back a bit, you swallowed. “What are you– my dad said you wouldn't be here until later when he came back.” You watched with your fawn eyes as he stood with a grunt in his white tank top, rough, blue jeans, and steel-toed boots. You were vulnerable, fully and entirely. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Naked under your nightgown besides just a pair of tiny panties.

“Wanted to get this out of the way. Didn't think you’d be here, doll.” Logan took a step towards you and you didn't dare take one back. Your gaze flickered to the side. “I was gonna go but I wasn't feeling well.” You’re all soft and meek and sweet. As if to prove your point, you let out a little cough. He could just devour you.

Logan looked back at his work. “Well– I figured out what's wrong. Should be a simple fix once I get the right part for it.” He looked back to you, eyes all soft. “I'm free for the rest of the day, babydoll.” You know what he was trying to get at. You were home alone, practically naked, the idea wasn't so far beyond you anymore.

You bit your lip. “You want to see my bedroom? I just redid it.” 

A smile twitched at Logan's lip. “Yeah, doll. Show me your bedroom.” You reached out and took his hand in yours, large and calloused. You guided him with your padded feet, occasionally looking back at him as if he’d disappear from behind you. If you were Orpheus, he’d already be gone by now.

You took him up the stairs and around the banister into your room done up in white, floral wallpaper. Your bed was neatly made with a single giant stuffed bear sitting against the pillows. It was obviously old and well-loved. Your room was just like you, soft and quaint.

Letting go of his hand, you went and you sat on the edge of your bed while Logan took his time examining this space you call yours. “It’s nice, really. Pretty, like you.” He stood in the center of your room, looking at you. You were fiddling your fingers in your lap, looking anywhere but him. You were thinking, thinking hard. Your lips twitched.

“What are you thinking about, dollface?” Logan made his way to you and grasped your chin in his fingers. He made you look at him with your doll eyes and your doll lips which you pursed softly. Silently, you stood from the edge of your bed, pressed between it and Logan's solid body. With your hands against his chest, you got up on your toes to reach his face and carefully pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss.

Your hands caressed his face softly, his beard prickly under your fingertips. You were still awkward and timid while kissing, but you were getting better at it. Still on your toes, you broke away from the kiss and wrapped your arms around Logan's neck. “I think I'm ready,” you whispered, voice quivering.

A better man would have asked, “are you sure?” A good man would have told you to wait until you were absolutely sure or even, to stick to your morals and wait until marriage. But Logan was not a good man and all he wanted was you, your entirety, resting in his palms like a baby bunny.

Logan dipped down and kissed you harder than before, with a feverish desire to take your soul straight from your body. His hands slid under your little nightgown, palms against your flesh, groping at you. Your breasts, your ass, the plush of your hips. You whimpered at how rough he was with you and Logan swallowed every squeak.

“Please…be gentle.” You pleaded with him. Your body shuddered as you felt the rumble of Logan's chest. He chuckled lowly.

“Oh, doll– I’m not known for being a gentle man.” There was something a bit feral in his throat as he spoke. “Come on, let's get this off of you.” He tugged at the hem of your nightgown, up and over your head, leaving you partially naked. Your hand immediately shot to your chest, shivering like a scared puppy.

Logan grabbed your wrist, despite his words, he was trying his best to be gentle with you. He didn't want to break you. What was the good in breaking something he wanted to possess? No, no, he didn't want to break you. Logan wanted you to be so thoroughly his that you'd never question him, your loyalty to him was what he wanted.

He took your hands from your breasts to get a good view of them. They were perfectly sized, soft looking. Your whole body was tender and sweet, with plush flesh and sweet curves all where they ought to be. Logan salivated like a pavlovian dog. He kissed you and palmed at your little, cotton panties, tucking his thumbs in and tugging them down.

You whined. “S-slow down.” Pleading as he removed them from you and carefully pushed you onto your bed. You felt too vulnerable nude before him. But Logan was already on his knees, between your legs, kissing and licking down your trembling thighs. “What are you doing?”

He put his mouth against your little love and you let out a sharp yelp. “Wait!” You never thought someone would put their mouth down there. It felt dirty. It felt good too. He pushed his tongue past your wet lips and licked your pussy before sloppily making out with your cunt.

Logan was a messy eater. All tongue and lips, licking and suckling against your most sensitive parts. His large, rough hands gripped at your thighs to keep them parted and pressed to your chest.

You never had your pussy ate and it was easy to tell. You were so sensitive to every touch of his tongue. Every flick against your swollen clit made your entire body shudder and a sweet mewling squeal left your lips. Your back arched from the bed, your toes curled into the air over your head. “Mr. Howlett!” You let out in a long, drawn out moan, your hand in his hair, tugging.

You tasted like heaven. Like he could find the meaning of life between your legs. He drooled all over your cunt like it was the most delectable thing he's ever had the honor of tasting, slurping and panting between rough licks. Logan felt that he could easily become addicted to this if he allowed himself to, the sweetness of you, the way you quivered.

But Logan didn't want you cumming just yet. He needed you to be on his dick first. He offered a few more desperate licks to your pussy before kissing your clit and bringing himself up to stand between your legs. His large, bear-like hands worked at the buckle of his belt. “You know when your parents will be home?”

You shook your head slowly, lips rolled.

“Then we’ll have to be quick.” It wouldn't be the ideal for a girl’s first time but if you wanted “ideal” you shouldn't have chosen someone like him to give up your virginity to.

You watched him pull his cock from his pants, half hard and almost beautiful as he pumped it in his hand. He was large, larger than anything you’ve ever taken before. You could hardly handle two of his fingers before crying. How could you possibly take a thing like that inside you and still remain composed? You were terrified out of your mind and as Logan pulled you by the hip towards the edge of the bed, you were starting to reconsider.

“What if it doesn't fit?”

Logan glanced at you. “I’ll make it fit.” He should tell you that it’s going to hurt at first, that there might be blood from your hymen breaking, but he didn't want you to back out. So he stayed silent, stroking himself to complete hardness until it could stand straight on its own. “Open your legs, doll.”

You hesitated but you were never one to disobey. Trembling, already on the brink of tears from the mere fear of pain, you spread your legs apart just enough for Logan to slot in between them and hold your hips. He looked at you and thought it best to reassure you. “Don't freak out. It’ll only hurt for a minute. I’ll be right here.” It was all vapid. He just wanted your virginity, your sweet, little cunny. He wanted to wear your purity around like a trophy.

Logan was not a good man. You should have known this.

He spat on your cunt, let the saliva dribble from his lips and land on your clit where it traveled its way down to your entrance. Logan played with it with the tip of his length, spreading it all across the rose between your legs. You whimpered like a puppy, writhing at the hips as he slapped his cock against your love and teased at all the possibilities of entering you.

He was right. It did hurt when he started easing his way into you. His cock, long and thick, stretched you out to a point you had never gone to before. You almost screamed or maybe you did. Tears swelled in your eyes as you squirmed against his hold. “It hurts!”

“I know. Just hold on.” He pushed his hips to yours and settled there for a moment. You were too tense. It would only hurt more if he continued before you adjusted. “Relax for me. It’ll only keep hurting if you don't calm down.” You were gasping, sobbing. “I– I can't!”

“Yeah, you can. Just breathe. Stop crying, doll.” Logan rubbed your hip with his hand and cooed at you. He rolled his hips against yours, coaxing you into whining. You let out a deep, panting breath, fingers gripping at the sheets of your bed. You reached out and grabbed your teddy bear to hold for comfort.

You pressed your face into the side of the bear’s head and nodded. “Go slow, please.” Your eyes glistened as you looked at him, cheeks still wet with tears. Your fingers grip into your teddy as Logan grunts lowly. “Sure thing, babydoll.” He grabs your thighs like you grip that stuffed animal, for dear life. You’re so fucking tight, gripping him like a fucking vice as he pulls his hips back.

There's a bit of blood on his cock. He ruptured your hymen with just one thrust. Logan pressed your legs to your chest as he fucked you, starting slow as you requested. He reveled in every desperate cry that clawed at your lips, every pined whimper that fell away into pleasure. Your toes pointed then curled, pointed, curled.

The pain didn't last too long, the blood still wet on his cock as you mewled. You looked quite cute holding your bear, your knees beside your ears, and you can't spread out around his slick length. Logan almost growled with each rut into your soft, silky pussy clinging to him.

It took everything in him not to brutalize you. Not to show you exactly what intentions he had with you. You were nothing serious, but you were his and his alone. He was not the type to marry but if it meant diving into a cunt like this every night, he just might put a ring on your finger to keep you satisfied and placid.

You were so dizzy with dick you might as well have fallen in love with Logan. Maybe you were in love with him. You were certain you were. You would have never given up your virginity to him if you hadn't believed that maybe, just maybe this might go somewhere.

Your father might let you marry him. He’s far older than you but Logan has a good reputation. He might not be a church man, but most accept him within the community. If you pleaded enough, if you told him Logan stole your virginity, he’d demand you two get married to save the family's reputation.

You let out a steady “ah, ah, ah” and “ohhhh!” with each thrust that takes the wind out of you. Logan likes the noises you make, how surprised they sound. You know nothing of this, of his evil, of his hellish ways. “Keep moaning like that. You're gonna make me cum, babydoll.” His hand slithered between your legs, thumb finding your clit toy with.

You squeaked, squealing. “No, no, no! I gonna–” you could hardly get it out before it happened, a great fountain of clear liquid coming from you and landing all over Logan's front. You always found your squirting embarrassing. You were mortified that you had got it all over Logan, still mostly clothed. Some of it even got on his face.

He bared his teeth, licking his lips like some starved animal. You were hazy-eyed and shaking with an orgasm so intense, you might as well have died and come back to life. “Logan– Logan, please.” You huffed, breathless and tired and begging him for something, anything, everything.

“Please what, doll?” Logan was rather amused by the way you writhed beneath him, holding your teddy so tight he thought you might rip it apart. He was so close to cumming, you made it impossible not to do it fast.

You shook your head with a great sob, tossing an arm over your face. “Please…don't cum in me! My dad will kill me if I get pregnant.” You couldn't handle the thought of disappointing your parents. They’d disown you, they’d…they’d…you didn't know what they'd do.

You sniffled as Logan chuckled at your request. “And what if I did, huh? What if I came deep inside you and put a baby in you, then what?” He liked how hard you sobbed, how you cried and moaned at the same time. Despair and pleasure all wrapped into one neat, little bow.

“Please, don’t.”

Logan groaned lowly, faltering with his thrust as his hips shuddered and his cock pulsed in the sweet tightness of your cunt. Just at the last second, he pulled out and came all over your pelvis and lower abdomen, shooting out great, white ribbons across your supple flesh. He didn't want to get you pregnant. He was a bad man, but he was no baby-trapper.

There was silence between the two of you. Your first time was not anything quite special but it was with someone you wanted to have it with so at least that was something. You felt…disgusting. Like a whore, like you dishonored your family.

Logan could see it. He could see the way you slowly dwindled into self-doubt and self-hatred. He took your hand in his and pulled you up into a sitting position. “Gimme some sugar, baby.” He leaned down and kissed you gently, holding your jaw in his hand, stroking your face. With a single kiss, your worries melted away into nothing, a void mind filled with only thoughts of a perfect life with Logan.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, your parents will be home any moment now.”

A perfect life not meant for you. Logan would never commit. He wasn't capable of it. He might want something nice and simple like a wife and a family, but he knew he’d never be satisfied with it.

Logan Howlett was not a good man. And poor you for falling in love with him.

[bizbat]

He Realizes He Loves You - JJK x Reader

~ Reader is implied to be under 6ft but appearance is otherwise not mentioned.

~ Reader is implied to be fem and is explicitly fem + afab in Toji's part.

~ Including: Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, and Sukuna Ryomen (in order).

~ Feel free to request a character not included!

~ Smut included for multiple characters.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to (@starlight5cat, @s0ph1a7, @koiromii, @totallydestiny, @local-hopeless-romanic, @dalis-raines,@ryosuku, @liargh, @llotusfeet1, @crustychoco, @cult-of-norman, @broccolihater80, @bringmethewolves, @sohstayshawol, @therealisttheillest, @midnightxsecretary, @skullzgarden, @tiatasha-01, @sardonyx005, and @dimpled-peach) for all the characters they suggested!

~ Cw: Creampie (Toji), Slight Anal (also Toji), Pet Names (also also Toji) :( Mild Groping (Choso), Slight Yandere/obsessive behavior (Geto)

He realizes he loves you.

Toji - Explicit Smut, Wc: 315

The way you're squeezing him like you don't want him to pull out, calling his name like a hymn, God he might just cum right then and there. He's losing his mind as his hips slam against your ass, his thumb in your other hole, gripping the fat of your cheek while using it as leverage to pull you pack onto him.

Fuck, have you always sounded so sweet? And have you always been this pretty? He can't remember. All he knows is that he's not sure he's ever felt this good. He knows he's not thinking straight when his hips stutter, his cock throbbing inside you, and instead of slowing down, he speeds up. If he was a bit more cognizant, he'd consider pulling out, but who is he kidding?

You're too sweet to him, he knew it from the day you met. If he was a less selfish man, he'd have walked out of your life the second he felt his pants tighten at the sound of your voice. But, he's thankful he's not less selfish. "Gonna let me cum inside ya, baby?"

But, at the end of the night, he can cum in any broad willing to spread her legs for him. The second he blows his load, he'll be heading out the door. He's done it a million times. Veni, vidi, veni. Sometimes he'll turn a one night stand to a two night stand, but he never does more than twice.

Wait, how many times has he been over to your place again? Nevermind, he's cumming now. He doesn't still his hips as the thick, creamy white substance spills out of your cute little cunt. But his brain is fried, so when your juices coat his thighs, and your fingers squeeze his forearms, all while pressing your glossy lips to his . . . How's he supposed to help himself?

"F-Fuck, love you baby."

~

Megumi - No Smut, Wc: 265

He's never been the type to "jolt" out of bed. He usually slowly comes to consciousness, his body acting as a natural clock. Tsumiki would always say he was the early bird of the two. It was always just his routine.

But today, for some reason, the second he wakes up he snaps up and out of bed, his back straight as an arrow. It takes a second for his brain to register why. It's you. Here you are, peacefully laying in his bed beside him, his sheets covering everything but your face. You must have fallen asleep here after you and the other first years had movie night.

His eye twitches as he considers what to do. He doesn't wanna wake you, you look like a little angel, granted, you have a bit of drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but an angel nonetheless! He doesn't wanna tell Gojo, lord knows he'd never let him live it down. He doesn't want the higher-ups to find out and get you in trouble.

His brain moves damn near a mile a minute as he thinks of possible solutions. If you were awake you'd probably tease him about the smoke coming out of his ears. His eyes anxiously dart across his room, as if something in there could possibly fix his problem-

Until you roll over, your arm limply draped across his lap. It's not really a problem, is it? Gojo can handle it, he thinks to himself as he slips back under the covers, letting you hold onto him as you sleep in.

~

Gojo - No Smut, Wc: 334

Satoru doesn't do it for praise. While the sound of his sweet girlfriend's voice thanking and complimenting him is practically music to his ears, it's not his sole motivation. He's not sure what it is.

Maybe it's the sparkle in your eyes when he gives you your favorite type of pastry, he went out of his way to visit your favorite bakery, even though it was out of his way. Or maybe it's how tightly you hold him when he brings you a new bottle of your favorite perfume, even though the manufacturer stopped selling it. Maybe it's the way you squeal his name with joy and surprise when he appears at your doorstep, a cute little kitten in his arms, a bright blue bow tied around its neck.

He's not sure. It could be all of them for all he knows. Don't get him wrong, it's more than enough to get him out of bed every day. But it might actually be the fact that you almost . . . disregard his gifts afterwards. Maybe that's not the right word, but you're so casual about everything (except the kitten ofc). The necklace he got you last month, the one with his and your initials inside of a gold heart? You wear it everyday. Never say a word about it.

The watch he dropped at least a band on, the one that has five sets of hands and tells the time in Japan and your home country? You keep that in its case next to your bed. In the entire time you've dated, he doesn't think you've ever asked him for anything material. Maybe to do the dishes or take out the trash

Maybe that's it, actually. The fact that you'd rather spend time with him. That you see him as the biggest gift of all, it plays into his ego, sure. But there's something different about the way you cherish him, versus how the world does. Regardless, the thought makes him smile, makes his heart swell.

~

Nanami - Mild Smut, Wc: 336

Nanami has a lot of regrets in life.

He regrets every missed opportunity, every untaken chance, every day he's taken for granted, when others have to struggle so much to get half as far. Sometimes, he worries the thing that will finally do him in is grief. He has nightmares about choking on all of his remorse, and his biggest fear is that the second he gets something good, he'll be too distracted to hold onto it. But he has no regrets about you. He can feel it, even when he was still a student. Nanami knows how special you are. He sees it in the way your soft hands hold his face every morning and every night. In the way your lips curl and your hips wiggle in a little dance when you eat your favorite food. In the way your voice always rasps a small "good morning, my love," even before your eyes have opened.

God, you're special to him. And he knows better than to let you get away without knowing that. So when he has you in his arms, naked as the day you were born, your eyes tired and your skin sticky, he lets you know. He leans down, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely ghosting against your skin. He thrusts his hips gently, your soft smile and tiny moans encouraging him. He doesn't need to realize he loves you, he already knows that, but until now, right this very second, he didn't realize he was in love with you. And it hits him like a truck. He hadn't realized that your laugh is his favorite sound in the world, that he could eat your cooking until the day he dies, that you could scream at him for hours and hours, and he'd still think you had the voice of an angel.

But God, you're special. He mumbles into your collarbone, something he's always ment, but never fully grasped. "Ngh~ God, I love you."

~

Geto - Implied Smut, Wc: 352

You're so blessed. You have his head resting in your lap, his hair loose as your fingers card through it, his robes barely hanging onto his muscled form. He's so beautiful, you can't believe you're only getting to see him up close now. His dark eyes stare penetratingly into your soul, his soft smile making your heart feel like it's on fire.

He has invited you into his personal quarters, the familiar scent of sage, and oils wafting through the air. It wasn't uncommon for him to invite someone to his room, just to keep him warm or entertained, not that it was frequent, but it wasn't like it never happened. To say that this wasn't what you had expected upon first entering, would be an understatement.

You had introduced yourself to him, bowing at his feet as you began stating your name and how long you'd been a member, only for him to interrupt you, listing information you didn't even know he knew about you, information you didn't even know about you. You sat there on your hands and knees, mouth agape in surprise, until he placed a hand under your chin, gently closing your mouth and guiding you to your feet. You didn't think to question it, of course your lord and master knew everything about you.

He pulled you deeper into the room, going into detail about how you had caught his eye the moment you had begun worshiping him and his ideals. He explained his plan for you to lead alongside him, become his bride and second in command, only if you wanted to, of course. It was a big responsibility, hundreds of people suddenly bending to your every whim. Not to mention his two wonderful daughters.

But why would you ever say no? How could you possibly deny the prospect of being his wife- Geto-Sama's wife!? So here you are, your own robes just as loose as his as you carefully stroke his long, inky locks. You're so beautiful, he's truly blessed to have such an obedient, loving little lamb in his flock, finally, all to himself.

~

Choso - No Smut, Wc: 282

He's happy he has you here. Sat in his lap, the glow TV illuminating your pretty face, his hands up your shirt. The only thing that could make this better would be if his brothers were here, though, perhaps it's better if they aren't. He does appreciate the intimacy of it just being you and him.

He can't help himself from looking up at you, paying attention to the way you mindlessly chew on your lip. It makes his own lips part with desire. "Can-can you kiss me again?" He lightly squeezes your chest, his fingers tightening around the black lace bra under your shirt.

His curious, pleading eyes are too hard to ignore. He moans into your mouth, one hand groping your breast, the other gently holding your tummy. He rests his head on your shoulder when you finally pull away, a nervous smile on his face, he's still learning how to do it right, he hopes you don't mind. Actually, he knows you don't.

If anything, you love it. He can tell by the way you hold his cheeks when he does it, the way you giggle and kiss him more and more just to see it widen. He wants to do that for you. He wants to hold your cheeks and giggle when you smile and kiss you to see you do it more.

His heart erratically beats in his chest as he impulsively reaches out, turning your face and holding you still while he presses messy kisses to your lips. He doesn't stop the barrage of pecks when you ask him what he's doing. He just smiles. And that makes you smile. And that makes him smile more.

~

Sukuna - Implied Smut, Wc: 266

If you were to ask him about it, he'd laugh in your face. Sukana cares for no one, he does not love, he does not enjoy anyone's presence, he does not feel warmth in his chest when you kiss his cheek. Absolutely not. Never. You'd be foolish to think otherwise.

You may be his favorite concubine, who he always lets lay with him in bed after he's had his fill. Who he lets run her fingers through his hair during bathtime. Who he makes sure is seated on his lap at all times. But that does not mean he likes you. It just means he finds you tolerable. Yes, that's it.

He finds you tolerable, at most, and that's generous, even, so there you go, there's your answer. Only, you didn't even ask to begin with. You said "Good morning, my lord," and here he is, going on a rant in his head about how much he doesn't love you. Shit. He's in deep. Far too deep for anyone of his standing, and it's too late for him to pull himself out of this eternal abyss.

Curse you, wench, for having such control over him, unwittingly at that. Who do you think you are? With your adorable face, and your soft hair, and your nice smell-Wench! Mark his words, he may be steadfast in making you his bride, and disposing of any other concubines that expresses too much jealousy, and keeping his palace decorated in a way that you would find flattering, but he is not in love with you by any stretch of the imagination.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

blowing smoke

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (i think ive written like one fic where theyve used protection i am ashamed), riding, smoking cigs, shotgunning smoke, semi public sex, mentions of drinking

fully inspired by this post bc hnnnnng.

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy

“come here, sweetheart.” rafe says, his gruff voice calling out to you over the noise of the party going on in the background. you place your hand in his outstretched one, completely engulfing it as he tugs you closer, onto his lap.

rafe bounces you once on his lap, making you smile and lean into him, not shying away from the physical contact.

“shouldn’t we be down with the rest of the party?” you ask, not that you actually want to leave the secluded balcony to rejoin the group, you much prefer having rafes undivided attention.

“do you want to go back to the party?” rafe asks, fingers pulling the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder.

you smile and tilt your chin down, rafe knows the answer. you always prefer being alone with him. 

“why don’t you ride me and then we can go back to the party?” rafe questions, making you look around the space.

“i don’t know, someone could walk up at any time…” 

rafe lets out a laugh, making you pout. he runs his thumb over your cheek, “baby, you think anyone would come up here without my permission?”

while the nerves still build in your stomach with the thought of someone easily being able to come up the stairs and seeing what’s happening on the second story balcony, you can’t resist rafe, which he certainly knows as you readjust on his lap so you’re straddling him.

you pull your dress up over your hips, and it’s tight enough that it stays in place. rafe smiles seeing what underwear you’re wearing, tiny panties with the letter r on the front that he got you for valentines day.

“my favorite.” rafe smiles, pulling on the strap and then letting it sna back into your hip.

you let out a gasp at the brief moment of pain, leaning forward and pressing your lips against your boyfriends, tasting the slight taste of alcohol on his breath. rafe easily dominates the kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as he controls you.

you moan against his mouth, knowing that no one will be able to hear you over the music pumping out of the speakers on the patio beneath you.

you move closer to rafe, pressing your chest together so you can grind your core against him, feeling him swell with your movements. you feel a rush of confidence with how quickly you can get him hard, taking rafes lower lip in between your teeth and giving it a slight tug.

rafe lets you have the moment of dominance, only to reach down and press his finger over your pussy, rubbing it through the thin underwear. “oh fuck.” you moan after releasing his lip, placing your hands on his thighs and leaning backwards, giving him better access to your clit, which he rubs mercilessly.

“all shy a few minutes ago, and now you’re leaking for my cock.” rafe laughs, not caring that you’ve soaked through your underwear and are leaving spots on his pants.

you pout, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when rafe tugs your underwear to the side, looking up at you with a smirk, “i would rip these off of you if they weren’t a gift.” you roll your eyes with a smile, knowing rafe has a proclivity for getting you out of your clothes by the quickest means possible, even if it means you regularly have to buy new underwear.

you almost lose your grip on rafes leg, thankful for the rough material of his jeans catching you, as he plunges a finger into your heat, looking at your pussy with a face of determination as he fingers you quickly, not deciding to go slow today.

you sit up straight, eyes going to the railing to make sure no one is able to see you, before leaning forward and cupping rafes face in your hands, letting your lips guide over each others in a half-kiss as you continue to moan.

rafe gets tired of just fucking you with his finger, his cock is almost uncomfortable from how hard he is, pressing against his zipper. he quickly inserts a second finger, turning his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit at the same time.

he doesn’t last more than a few thrust before the need to have you gets too great, pulling his fingers out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. you get to work quickly on his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as rafe takes his fingers into his mouth, licking all of your wetness off, tasting sweet on his tongue. 

“gonna ride daddy?” rafe asks, referring to himself as he lifts his hips, letting you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to get his cock out.

“of course, daddy.” you bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a quick few strokes, even though he’s so hard he doesn’t need it, his tip a pretty pink color that makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but you know he’s not going to be able to get you off his dick if you suck him off, and you really do want to ride him.

you position yourself over top his cock, having to lift up onto your knees to line his cock up with your pussy. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, determined to take all of him quickly as you lower yourself onto his cock.

rafe watches you in fascination, always in awe of how you’re so willing and able to please him. you only pause for a second when you’re fully seated on his cock, before you begin to bounce, starting with small movements as you build up, placing your hands on his chest for stability.

“god, my perfect little bunny.” rafe smiles, tugging at the front of your dress until the top falls under your boobs, letting them spill free, moving along with you with every shift of your hips.

“feels so good.” you whine when rafe cups your tits, smirking as his big hands cover your entire chest. you are determined to show him how good you feel, moving faster even as you cunt cries out from the harshness of your movements.

“so good for daddy.” rafe compliments you, surprised how quickly you’ve completely forgotten that there’s just shy of 100 people only a floor below you.

“mhm, good just for you.” you say, moving your hands to his shoulders as you shift backwards slightly.

you roll your hips along to the song playing, watching as rafe reaches over to the table next to him, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and his customized lighter, filled with pictures of you on it. it’s the only one that he uses ever since you got it for him, even refusing to light up other peoples cigs or joints when they ask him to. 

rafe pulls a cigarette out of the pack and places it between his lips as you continue your movements. he brings his lighter up to his mouth, cupping his other hand to protect the flame from the light wind as he lights his cig.

you slow your moves in time with his deep inhale, rafes eyes sliding shut as he breathes in the smoke, only for you to speed up the second he quirks his lips to the side and blows it out.

“god, i’m in fucking heaven.” rafe pulls the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand, bringing his free hand to grip your hip and help you slightly with your movements.

you giggle, leaning forward and accepting the end of the cigarette rafe puts in your mouth, also taking a breath, admittedly not as deep as your breathing fast from riding him. you tip your head back and blow the smoke out into the air before refocusing.

“damn, riding me so good baby.” rafe gives your ass a quick slap before gripping your plump bum, still helping you move all while feeling you up.

he sticks the cigarette between his lips, taking another draw from it before he pulls it out, not caring to turn away from the sight in front of him as he blows the smoke over your body, making you let out a moan.

“fuck, dirty girl.” rafe delivers another spanking.

you cry out, knowing he’s going to leave a red mark on your ass. you bring one hand away from the iron grip you have on rafes shoulders to rub at your clit.

“let me do that for you.” rafe slaps your hand away, being careful not to hit you with the lit end of the cigarette, wanting to get his fingers back on your slickness.

you smile, knowing rafe likes it when he’s the one who makes you cum. he sticks the cigarette back between in the corner of his mouth, showing off how familiar he is with the action as he takes a puff and blows it out without using his hands.

you know you’re going to smell like smoke later as he brings his fingers to your clit, circling on the outside before flicking it as you clench your cunt around him every time you pull up before letting loose and slamming back down.

rafe can’t speak to warn you that he’s close for risk of his cigarette falling out of his mouth, but you can tell just from the way his cock swells inside of you that he’s not going to last much longer.

“faster, rafe.” you place a hand over the back of his as his fingers speed up, toying with your bud the perfect amount as you let out a loud moan, not caring even if someone did walk up the stairs.

your orgasm overtakes your body, unable to keep moving as you slump forward, rafes fingers slowing as you let your head fall onto his shoulder, trying to breathe as he suddenly pulls his hand away from your clit, gripping onto your hips with both hands and bouncing you once, twice, and then a third time on his cock before he’s cumming, flooding your insides.

“fuck.” rafe groans, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, keeping one hand on your ass to make sure you don’t get up yet, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your fluttering walls around him for longer.

you turn your head to the side, giving his neck a kiss and nuzzling your nose against his skin as you both breathe heavily, coming down for your collective high.

you sit up after a moment, realizing that you’re going to start leaking out as rafe softens.

“rafey-”

“yeah, alright.” he sighs, letting you pull off of him, his cock flopping down against his skin. you can’t bring yourself to stand up and actually take care of the cum, opting to pull your panties back in place and hope that they catch everything. 

you pull the top of your dress back up over your dress, adjusting your boobs and regretting your decision to go braless as your nipples poke through the material.

you watch as rafe tucks himself back into his pants, lifting off his lap slightly so he can redo his jeans.

“gimme.” you try to take the cigarette out of rafes hand, but he stops you, taking a deep drag for himself before dropping the almost finished cig onto the ashtray, taking your face in his hands and bringing you close.

your mouth slots open, and he blows the smoke into your mouth as you inhale it. you hold it for a moment before exhaling, letting the smoke rise around you.

rafe smiles at your actions, pressing your lips together in a long kiss, knowing you’re not going back down to the party any time soon.

[lipglossanon]

22 December

Moaner!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pervert Leon, stalker Leon, obscene phone calls, name calling, degradation, masturbation

Black Christmas (1974) homage 💜

not proofread

You wave the cigarette smoke away from your face. Brittany giggles and blows another puff your way, sending your irritation spiking as you stand up from the sofa. 

“You’re such a child,” you sneer at her. “I hope you get cancer.”

“Hey!” She frowns at you, bubbly laughter dropping off. “What a shitty thing to say to someone.”

“But you’re not someone,” you smile sweetly. “You’re just a dumb bitch.”

Before Brittany can move from the couch, the den mother steps in with a haggard face. She’s nearing her 50’s and her days of putting up with hormonal young women are drawing to a close. 

“Now you two, be nice,” she chides, tired eyes moving between you both. “Brittany go pack. Your dad called a few minutes ago saying he’s on his way to pick you up for the airport.”

She stands from the sofa, running a hand through her box blonde hair. “Thank you, Miss Margaret. It’ll be nice to spend the holidays with family, something not all of us have.”

She grins, a nasty showing of her bleached teeth, “Have a lovely holiday, sister.”

“Hope your plane explodes on take off,” you shoot back, listening as Miss Margaret sighs in defeat—both of you watching Brittany disappear around the corner. 

“I wish you girls wouldn’t fight like that. It’s so unbecoming,” she pats her pockets, pulling out a peppermint candy, wrapper crinkling when she opens it.

“Well, if she wouldn’t have screwed me over with that Professor, then I wouldn’t have any issues with her.”

Patting your arm, the den mother makes her way back out of the room. “I know, dear. But thankfully, you’ll have a break from her over the holidays.”

Standing next to the tree in the empty living room, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing yourself not to get a headache. The shrill ring of the landline cuts into your thoughts like a dull knife. Blowing out a breath, you walk into the foyer and pick up the corded receiver. 

“Hello, Alpha Beta Theta house.”

Loud breathing comes over the line, like they’ve just finished running a marathon. 

“Hello?”

A shuddering groan fills your ear along with a wet squelching noise, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Is—is anyone there?” You clear your throat. 

“Unh, unh,” a masculine voice finally makes a more pronounced noise. “Mmm.”

“You know prank calls can get you in a lot of trouble,” you twist the cord in your fingers, nerves beginning to get the best of you.

A raspy laugh before he speaks. “Bet you have a tight piggy cunt. Little miss uptight bitch.”

Fear and anger burn hot in your chest. “Did Brittany put you up to this? Well, fuck her and fuck you too, you fucking loser.”

You slam the phone down onto the cradle. Clenching your fists at your sides, you want to scream. You want to kick and slap and hit and gouge and—

The shrill ring of the phone has you baring your teeth at it like a feral dog. Snatching it up on the second trill, you bring the receiver up to your face.

“Alpha Beta Theta.”

The words are pulled from your mouth like rotten teeth. 

“Don’t hang up on me again, you cunting whore.” The man hisses at you. “I’ll rape all of your holes and then make more to stuff my cock into.”

Sweat beads on the back of your neck along with your palms and under your armpits. 

“W-who are you?”

He laughs again. “No one. Now stay on the line.”

The wet sound from earlier picks up, only this time it’s louder. He grunts and you suddenly realize what he’s doing. 

Schlick, schlick, schlick. 

It’s insane and disgusting—

and yet—

You clench your thighs, clit achy while you listen to this pervert jerk off. He curses under his breath and it makes your nipples stiffen. Gripping the phone in your hand so tightly the plastic creaks, you breathe in shakily. He must hear it cause his noises pick up speed, the wet slide of what has to be his fist around his cock grows louder still. 

“Wanna stick my face in your fat piggy cunt, lick those pretty piggy lips and suck on your juicy piggy clit.”

Instead of disgust, arousal pools hot and heavy in your core, panties sticking to your wet pussy. He groans brokenly, words bitten off as you listen to him cum on the other side of the call. Your hand begins to cramp from the grip you have on the receiver, making you swap over to the other ear.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, he sighs out a hum. 

“Merry Christmas, cunt.”

Those are his last words as the dial tone blares to life. You sit the phone down and shakily walk back into the living room. Pussy empty and aching, you sink down on the couch cushions. 

“Who was that, dearie?” 

Miss Margaret stands on the other side of the room in the doorway leading to the kitchen. 

“Uh, no one,” you repeat the pervert's answer. “Just a wrong number.” 

“Oh, okay.”

She heads back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your messy thighs and turbulent thoughts.

[starkeyisthelastname]

you got me obsessed with trailer park rafe now ugh i can imagine any time he gets into it with her dad over rent he’d take it out on her later by having her pinned to his dingy couch with a hand on her neck and her tits spilling out of her little dress from his brutal thrusts 😩

thank you angel! im obsessed with him too 😩💦

Your father had added on a late fee to Rafe’s rent, meaning he had to come up with an extra $50, when he just spent the last of his money on a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes. He was pissed to say the least, certainly not in any mood for company. Which is why when he heard a few delicate knocks to the torn screen door, he snorted as he saw your sugary self standing there. You really were a man’s dream, so beautiful and too damn innocent for this world. Not knowing the struggles a man like him had to deal with. He grumbled, his massive frame striding over to the door as clearly you weren’t leaving.

It creaked open, his blue eyes peering down at you with a stoic expression and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You didn’t know your favorite person was in a bad mood due to your father’s actions. In fact he had just given you some money to go to the town’s carnival tomorrow and to take one of your little friends. He just didn’t know you were going to ask the older man that he had thrown a late fee on for being past due on rent.

“Get outta here, kay babydoll. Not in a good mood.” Rafe’s voice mean, despite using your favorite pet name he called you.

Your glossy lips frowned, playing with the hem of your little summer dress, unknowingly letting your bouncy tits sway as you rocked back and forth. “B-but, my daddy gave me some money to go to the carnival tomorrow and i.. wanted you to go with me.” You said, long lashes fluttering at him.

The blue eyes that had been staring at your tits, went back to your face as you said your daddy gave you money. The same daddy he had cussed out for being a cheap bastard earlier in the day for charging a late fee all of a sudden. He took a long drag of his cigarette, his height imposing and darkened irises nearly staring into your soul. “Why you tell me that for, sugar?” He finally spoke, blowing the smoke towards you. “Cause you know your old man pissed me off.” He laughed, tapping the side of your forehead, to get your dumb little brain to understand what was about to happen.

He’d have you pinned on the torn and tattered couch, his massive palm wrapped around your throat. He could easily snap your neck if he wanted to, but enjoyed the sounds of your pretty cries too much as he brutally pounded into you. “Told you I’m a bad man, little slut. Don’t you ever come round’ here and tell me that shit again.” He spat, voice gruff and breathless as he rammed you.

You squeaked, soft hands coming out to grab anything as he fucked you into the couch. Your poor little self should have been scared, but you still put all your trust in him and were too far attached to him to ever think he was a bad mean man. You thought you were doing something nice, inviting him to the carnival but now you just wanted to show him that you could be good. Oh you were so far gone, letting him use you exactly like he said he was. Like his little fuckdoll.

“Shhh, babydoll. I know..” Rafe murmured, watching your eyes start to roll back and gorgeous tits bounce as he laid into you. “Gettin’ your cunt ruined by a big cock, huh?” He laughed, assumed that you to him so well. His hand that was around your neck, came up to roughly cup your jaw, making your eyes snap open. You could feel that funny feeling come over you, this time a new pressure hitting.

“You should have just stayed away. But you just couldn’t help your lil’ self could ya? Now your fuckin sweet baby self is stuck with me.” He breathed out, watching your pretty face come undone as you began squirting and soaking the torn couch underneath you.

[drippingghoneyy]

Nothing To You - Silco X Fem!Reader

Summary: You argued with Jinx, which escalated into a conflict with Silco. You need him to care about both you and Jinx's well-being. He needs to focus on what’s in front of him. 

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Make-Up Sex, Argument, Silco x Fem!Reader 

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, whore, piv, squirting, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving), tongue fucking,... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 13k.

Notes: I am sorry it’s so long, I like to develop a story😭

I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day! 

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The echoes of your footsteps bounced off the cold, concrete walls of the labyrinthine halls. Your breath came out in furious puffs, each exhale a declaration of your frustration. You had just come from a heated confrontation with Jinx, Silco's volatile and unpredictable daughter. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of blue that could charm the most stoic of souls, were now ablaze with rebellion.

The fight had started innocently enough. You'd only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world you both knew too well. "You're too young," you'd insisted, your voice tight with concern. "This mission is for the experienced, for those who have seen more than their share of blood." 

But she was insistent, her voice rising with every word. "I can handle it," she spat, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore."

You watched her, the fiery determination in her eyes, and felt a twinge of pride. But the fear for her safety was stronger. "You're not ready," you said firmly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. 

Jinx's eyes narrowed, the gears of defiance turning in her head. "You're not my mom," she retorted, the words landing like a slap across your face.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with accusation and anger. You felt a surge of heat rush through your veins, a potent cocktail of love and exasperation. "I'm still fucking your dad," you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to think twice. The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of your words. Jinx's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and rage.

In the aftermath of the explosive statement, you felt your own emotions unravel. You hadn't meant to say it, not like that. It was a slip, a clumsy retort born of the tumult of feelings inside you. The bond you shared with Silco was complex, a tapestry of passion, loyalty, and the weight of shared secrets. But here it was, thrown out like a grenade in the middle of an already volatile situation.

Jinx's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. She looked at you with a mix of horror and disbelief, the fight in her posture deflating. You could see the cogs in her mind spinning, trying to process what you'd just said. 

It was a low blow, one you hadn't intended to deliver. But the words had slipped out, a reflexive defense against her accusation, a reminder that she wasn't the only one who felt misunderstood.

As the silence stretched taut between you, you wished you could snatch them back, swallow them down like a bitter pill. But it was too late. The damage was done. 

You felt a pang of guilt, a stab of regret that you hadn't found a better way to communicate your fears. But the anger still smoldered within you, a coal that had been poked too many times. You weren't her mother, but you had played the role of protector for so long that it felt as if you were.

With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the echo of your footsteps to mock you as you went. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to fix this mess before it spun out of control. 

You knew that Silco would hear about this, and you dreaded the conversation that was sure to come. But for now, you just needed space, a place to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

The walk to Silco's office felt like an eternity, each step a deliberate stride away from the girl you had just hurt. The halls grew quieter as you approached, the usual cacophony of the undercity muffled by the thick walls of the building. You could almost feel the anger coiling back up inside you with every footfall, a serpent ready to strike again. Jinx had no right to say those things to you, not after everything you'd done for her.

You had been there for her, through the late nights when she couldn't sleep, the endless days of training, the tears shed in frustration. You had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to wipe her nose and whisper words of encouragement when she thought she couldn't go on. And now she was questioning your intentions, throwing your relationship with her father in your face like a weapon.

Finally, you arrived at the large, dark door that led to Silco's inner sanctum. The brass knob was cold under your hand, a stark reminder of the chilly reception you were likely to receive once you stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold but from the anticipation of what was to come. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm that was about to break.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit room, the scent of leather and oil lingering in the air. Silco sat on the couch, his usual aura of stoicism cracked, revealing the storm clouds gathering behind his eyes. 

He looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp, demanding an explanation without uttering a single word. You felt the weight of his stare, a silent reprimand that was almost more powerful than any shout could ever be.

The office was a testament to his power, filled with artifacts of his reign over the city, each one a trophy of his cunning and might. Your eyes swept over them, a silent acknowledgment of the man you were about to face. Heart hammered in your chest, the echoes of the argument still resonating through you.

Silco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, one arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the other holding a half-smoked cigar that danced with embers at the tip. His legs were crossed, the ankle of one boot resting on the opposite knee. 

He hadn't moved when you entered, his gaze unwavering and sharp, like the blade of a knife that hadn't been cleaned in a while. It was as if he had been carved from the very shadows that painted the room, a silent sentinel waiting for you to make your next move.

The tension grew as you approached, your steps slow and measured, trying to navigate the minefield of your own emotions. You knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice had the power to shake the very foundations of your world. The air was thick with the scent of the cigar, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his power, a constant reminder of the volatility that lay beneath his calm exterior.

You swallowed hard, trying to organize your thoughts, but your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and anger. You hadn't wanted to fight with Jinx, but she had pushed you too far. And now here you were, about to face the consequences. You felt like you were on trial, standing before the man who had been both your lover and your boss, the man whose trust you had just shattered with a careless remark.

Silco took a long drag from the cigar, the embers glowing brighter for a moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke. The silence was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you like a python, squeezing the words from your lungs. 

You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his features remained a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, told a different story, flickering with a mix of anger and disappointment that stung like acid.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know why she's so eager to go?" His voice was low, a rumble of thunder in the quiet room. "She's trying to find her place in this world, just like you did." The words hung between you, a challenge and an accusation rolled into one. He took another drag, the smoke curling around his head like a crown of mist.

"You've been her mentor, her guide," he continued, his tone even but the message clear. "But she's not a child anymore, and she'll make her own choices, just as you did when you came to me." His words were like a knife twisting in your gut, each one cutting deeper than the last. You knew he was right, but it didn't make the sting any less potent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say to defend yourself? That you were just looking out for her? That you didn't want to see her get hurt? It all sounded so hollow now, standing in the face of his quiet dominance. You felt small, insignificant, like a bug that had dared to challenge a giant.

Silco's cigar smoldered between his fingers, the only sign of his own internal turmoil. His arm was casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed in a way that spoke of confidence and authority. 

He didn't need to stand to intimidate; his presence filled the room, a looming specter that was impossible to ignore. The flame from the cigar cast flickering shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The silence grew heavier, pressing down on you like a physical force. You could hear the tick of the clock on the wall, each second a countdown to the inevitable. Your palms grew slick with sweat, your heart racing like a caged animal desperate for escape.

But you couldn't look away from him, his eyes a piercing and seemed to bore into your very soul. You knew that when he finally spoke, his words would be measured.

"Is that what you really think?" Silco's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the tumult inside you. "That she's not ready because she's just a child?" His gaze never wavered, a silent demand for you to justify your words. You felt the first flickers of defiance rekindle in your chest. How dare he question you like this? You had been there for her, had watched her grow from a scared girl into a powerful young woman.

"Jinx is more capable than you give her credit for," you shot back, the fire of the argument not quite extinguished. "But she's still impulsive, reckless. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions." 

The words tumbled out, fueled by the residual heat of your earlier confrontation. You had seen the destruction she could leave in her wake when she lost control, had picked up the pieces of her shattered experiments more times than you cared to count.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows playing across his face, turning his expression into something more menacing. "And who made her that way?" he countered, his voice a soft growl. "Who taught her that chaos is a tool, that fear is power?" 

The accusation hit you like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You hadn't meant to make Jinx into a monster; you'd just wanted to give her the strength to survive in a city that devoured the weak without a second thought.

You felt the need to defend yourself, to explain the years of care and guidance you had given her. "I taught her to be strong," you said, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. "To stand up for herself. But she's still so young, Silco. She doesn't understand the gravity of what we're doing here." You took a step closer to him, the anger in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar he held between his fingers.

Silco's silence was a wall, an impenetrable fortress that you were desperately trying to breach. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the only outward sign of his own inner conflict.

"You're not her mother," he said finally, his voice as cold as the steel of the weapons that lined the walls. "You're her... mentor. And as such, it's your responsibility to support her, not hold her back."

The accusation stung, but you weren't about to back down. You raised your chin, a sardonic smile playing on your lips. "That's right," you said, the words dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not her mom. I'm nothing to her, apparently." 

The smile didn't reach your eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once been there when you talked about her. "And you're not her dad, but you're okay with her throwing herself into danger?"

The air in the room grew colder, the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife. You watched the embers of his cigar burn, a silent metaphor for the smoldering anger between you. Silco took a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one chosen with precision. "I've always known that one day, she would make her own decisions. And I trust her to make the right ones."

The room was a battlefield, and every word was a weapon. You felt the sting of his doubt, the accusation that you were trying to control Jinx's life rather than guide it. "Fine," you said, your voice tight with unshed emotion. "If that's what you think, then I won't stand in her way." You turned on your heel, ready to leave, to find someplace where the walls weren't closing in on you.

But before you could take a step, Silco's hand shot out, his grip on your arm like a vice. "Don't," he said, his voice a warning growl. "Don't you dare walk away from this." His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that would tell him you weren't going to abandon her.

You met his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "I'm not walking away," you said, your voice low and steady. "But I'm not going to watch her throw herself into the fire without a second thought." The silence between you was a battle of wills, two forces colliding, neither willing to back down.

Silco's grip on your arm tightened, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that was more powerful than any shout. His silence was a cage, a prison that held you in place, forcing you to confront the truth of his words. 

You could feel the anger pulsing through your veins, a red-hot fury that demanded release. But you knew that now was not the time for shouting matches. Now was the time for reason, for understanding.

"You know what she said to me," you whispered, the pain of her words still raw. "How could you defend her after that?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded a response. Silco's grip on your arm didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else.

He took a moment before speaking, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floor beneath your feet. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said, the words a gentle admission. "But she needs to find her own path, just as you did." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for a sign that you would relent.

But the anger inside you was a living thing, a beast that had been poked one too many times. You pulled free from his grasp, your voice rising. "And what about me?" you demanded, your eyes flashing. "What about what I need?" The words hung in the air, a declaration of the tumult of emotions that swirled within you.

Silco's expression was unreadable, a mask that had been honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of power and control. "You know I care for you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But my loyalty is to this city, to the people who depend on us." The words were a slap, a cold reminder that in the grand scheme of things, you were just another pawn in his game of dominance.

You felt the anger bubble up inside you, threatening to spill over. "Is that all I am to you?" you snapped, the words sharp as a whip. "Just another tool to be used and discarded when you deem it necessary?" The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your voice grew louder.

Silco's expression remained impassive, his silence a wall that you couldn't breach. It was infuriating, his calm demeanor only serving to fuel the fire in your belly. "Fuck you, Silco," you spat, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I'm not going to be nothing to anyone, especially not to someone who can't see what's right in front of them."

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office. The door slammed shut behind you, the echo echoing down the hall like the final nail in a coffin. The rage inside you was a living, breathing creature now, pushing you to walk faster, to run away from the pain of his words.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to get out of there. The labyrinth of the undercity stretched out before you, a maze of shadows and danger. But anywhere was better than the suffocating confines of that room, the room where you had just realized that maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong about everything.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city assaulted your senses. The distant rumble of a hextech engine, the shouts of a street fight, the wail of a siren. It was a symphony of chaos that you had once found comfort in, but now it felt like a taunt, a reminder of the turmoil within.

You didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. You just kept walking, your boots pounding against the pavement like the beating of a war drum. The buildings grew taller, the streets more treacherous, but you didn't care.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. You felt the first drops hit your face, cold and sharp like tears. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You had to keep moving, had to put as much distance between you and that conversation as you could.

The rain grew heavier, soaking through your clothes, but the chill was nothing compared to the coldness in your heart. You had given so much to Jinx, had been there for her when Silco couldn't. And yet here you were, feeling like you had been discarded, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

You didn't know where you would go, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not now. Not after what had been said. The rain mingled with your tears, blurring the world around you into a haze of color and light. But you didn't let it slow you down. You just kept walking, into the heart of the storm.

Silco's quiet dominance had always been a comfort to you, a rock you could cling to in the chaos of your life. But now it felt like a prison, a cage that kept you from being seen for who you truly were. 

You had been his confidant, his right hand, his... something. But now, in the cold light of his accusation, you realized that maybe you were nothing more than a pawn in his grand scheme.

The raindrops stung your skin like tiny needles, each one a painful reminder of your own insignificance. You told him to go fuck himself, the words a declaration of your anger and frustration. He had no right to speak to you like that, to question your love and devotion to him, to Jinx. But he had, and you had no choice but to leave.

The door to the building slammed shut behind you, the finality of it echoing through the alleyways. The city was a blur of shadow and neon, a living, breathing creature that didn't care about your pain. You stumbled through the streets, the rain soaking you to the bone. But you didn't care. You felt alive, the electricity of the storm pulsing through your veins.

You needed to find somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe. Your heart was racing, your mind a maelstrom of emotion. You didn't know what the future held, only that you couldn't go back to the way things were. The bond you shared with Silco had been shattered, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired.

Three weeks had passed since that fateful argument, three weeks of silence that stretched like a noose around your neck.

You had thrown yourself into your work, into the very chaos that had once brought you and Silco together. The Undercity knew you, knew the woman who had built an empire by his side. And it was that knowledge that kept you going, the whispers of your name on the streets a balm to your bruised ego.

You took solace in the familiar embrace of the city's underbelly, the grime and the grime of the streets a comforting reminder of your roots. The whispers grew louder, the rumors spreading like wildfire. You had left Silco, they said. You had abandoned your post. But you knew the truth, and it was that truth that kept you going. You weren't leaving; you were fighting for your place.

Sevika had become your confidante, your partner in crime. You two had always had a bond, a shared history of surviving the worst that life could throw at you. And now, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, her hand on your shoulder, you felt the warmth of camaraderie seep into your very bones. She had seen you at your lowest, had picked you up when you were nothing but a broken doll in the hands of fate.

The whiskey burned a trail down your throat, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The bar was your sanctuary now, the neon lights and the smell of stale beer a stark contrast to the cold, sterile halls of Silco's fortress. You had made it a point to be seen here, to be heard. You didn't need his approval to be important; you had the city's.

The patrons whispered as you entered, their eyes following your every move. They knew you, knew the fire that burned in your soul. You were a legend, a hero, and you were back in the game. Each night you and Sevika would sit, plotting your next move, drinking and laughing and living. It was a dangerous dance, but one that felt so right.

The air was thick with the scent of desperation and hope, a heady mix that only the Undercity could provide. For three weeks, you had avoided Silco's fortress, the place where your heart had once felt like it had found a home.

 But now, it was just a prison you had escaped from, the bars of his expectations and the coldness of his words still echoing in your ears. The city had been your playground long before he had entered your life, and it welcomed you back with open arms.

That night, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick with oil and the occasional puddle of rainbow-colored chemical runoff. You were nestled in the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and contemplating your next move when you heard the door creak open. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and you felt a pair of eyes on you, unseen but palpable.

Jinx's footsteps were tentative as she approached, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestone floor. She looked like a lost kitten, drenched and shivering, her eyes wide and searching. She stopped a few feet away, her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her slender frame. The bar patrons had fallen quiet, sensing the tension that crackled between you like an unseen electric current.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, the words thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it. I know you're not my mom, but... I don't know. I just wanted to go out there and prove myself." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to learn more before I can handle the big missions."

The room held its breath as you looked up at her, the whiskey in your hand frozen mid-sip. Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you would forgive her, that you would stay. And for a moment, you felt the anger melt away, replaced by the warmth of the love you had for her, the love that had led you to this point.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling. "I need you, I need you as... as someone who cares...please." The raw vulnerability in her words was like a punch to the gut, reminding you of all the times she had looked to you for guidance, for love, for acceptance. You set the glass down, the sound of it hitting the table like a gavel, final and irrevocable.

For a  moment, the bar was still, the only sound the steady drip of water from Jinx's sodden clothes. You studied her, the young woman who had once been a scared, angry girl, and now stood before you with the beginnings of wisdom etched into her features. The realization that you had been her anchor, her beacon in the storm, filled you with a strange mix of pride and sorrow.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice softening. "But you need to understand, I'm not here to hold your hand through every mission. I'm here to teach you, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did." You reached out, taking her cold hand in yours, feeling the tremor of her fear. "And if that means you go out there and kick some serious ass, then I'll be proud of you."

A tentative smile ghosted across her lips, the first sign of the Jinx you knew and loved. "But," you added, "you need to learn when to pick your battles." You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the tension in her fingers. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't be everywhere at once. And if you go off half-cocked, you're going to get yourself killed."

The room exhaled collectively as the tension eased, the patrons returning to their conversations and drinks. But the moment between you and Jinx was still palpable, a silent understanding that had been forged in the fires of anger and regret. "I know," she said, her eyes meeting yours, "I just... I don't want to let you down."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of her fear and hope resting in your palms. You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the steady beat of her heart beneath your own. "You could never let me down," you whispered into her ear. "You're already more than I could have ever asked for."

For a brief moment, the chaos of the bar faded away, and it was just the two of you, the rain outside a distant memory. You could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of expectations and the fear of failure that had driven her to push so hard. 

And in that instant, you realized that she wasn't just your student or even a daughter-figure; she was a piece of your soul, a living, breathing part of you that had grown from the ashes of your own past.

Her apology hung in the air like a shimmering thread of hope, the first step toward mending the fracture that had formed between you. She knew she had gone too far, that her words had cut deeper than she had intended. And as she stood there, shivering from the cold and the weight of her own realization, you saw the truth of what Silco had said: she was growing up, finding her own path.

You held her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping into your cold, hardened heart. "You never will," you murmured, your voice a gentle promise. "You're more than just a weapon, Jinx. You're... everything." The words slipped out, a declaration of the love you had never truly allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You felt her relax into your embrace, her shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted to be like you, to be strong." Her admission was a knife that twisted in your heart, a reminder of the fine line you had been walking as her mentor.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumb. "You are strong, Jinx," you said, your voice firm. "But strength isn't about rushing into every fight. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and when to wait." You searched her eyes, looking for the spark of understanding, the light that would tell you she heard you.

Her eyes searched yours, the neon glow of the bar light playing across the wet planes of her face. "I'll try," she said, her voice small and hopeful. "I promise." And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't leave her, not now, not ever. You had made a promise to yourself, to Silco, and to the city, but most importantly, to her.

Three days of silence had felt like an eternity.

You had avoided the fortress, not ready to face the man who had questioned your place in his world. But the call had come, a summons that couldn't be ignored. 

Twice you had been sent for, and twice you had ignored it. It was only when the third message arrived, the tone more insistent, that you knew you had to face him.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You had spent the last seventy-two hours thinking of every sharp word, every accusation you wanted to hurl at him. 

But as you approached the doors to his office, you realized that anger was a blunt instrument. What you needed now was precision, the scalpel of wit and truth.

You were dragged before him, not literally but by the weight of the words you had left unsaid. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down. You had been waiting for this moment, had been waiting to make him understand.

"You owe me an apology," you said, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. Silco's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he took a puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a serpent. 

"For what?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

"For questioning me," you said, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "For making me feel like I'm nothing to you or Jinx." The room was a battleground, and you had drawn your line in the sand. You had come to his fortress not as a supplicant, but as a warrior demanding respect.

Silco's gaze never left yours, the unspoken challenge in his eyes making your blood boil. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said finally, the words a concession but not the apology you sought. "But you need to understand, she's not a child anymore." The anger in your heart was a living, breathing creature now, a beast that demanded to be heard.

"And what about me?" you shot back, the fire in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar between his fingers. "What am I to you?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that demanded an answer. Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers burning bright.

"You're... important," he said, the word a grudging admission. "But I can't have you putting her in harm's way because you're afraid to let go." His voice was firm, the finality of it a slap in the face. But you weren't about to let him off the hook.

"And what if I'm not afraid of her growing up?" you retorted, your voice rising. "What if I'm afraid of losing her, of losing what we've built together?" The words echoed off the walls, a declaration of the fear that had been festering in your heart for so long.

Silco leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his weight. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "That I don't care about what happens to her?"

You stepped closer, the heat of your fury warming the cold, sterile room. "It's what you make me feel," you said, your voice trembling. "Every time you push her into danger, every time you treat me like I'm disposable." The words were a knife to the heart, the pain of his indifference a fresh wound that had yet to scab over.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the embers of his cigar casting a warm, orange glow across his face. "You're not disposable," he said, the words a whisper. "But you have to understand, this is bigger than us." His hand reached out, the gesture almost tender, but you stepped back, the space between you a yawning chasm.

"Bigger than us?" you spat. "Is that all I am to you? Just a pawn to be moved around on your board?" The rage was a living, breathing thing now, a storm that threatened to consume you both. His silence was a knife twisting in your gut, a silent confirmation of your fears.

"I've given you everything," you said, the words ripped from your chest. "Every part of me, and for what? To be nothing more than a tool to you?" 

The accusation hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the very essence of your relationship. Silco's eyes remained on you, unwavering, as if he could bore through your skull with his gaze alone.

"I've bled for you," you continued, the anger a living flame in your voice. "I've killed for you, loved for you, and what do I get in return? To be treated like I'm disposable?" The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's silence was a wall, impenetrable and cold.

"Do you even know what love is?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Or is it all just power and control to you?" Each word was a dagger thrown at his heart, a challenge to the man who had once been your everything. But now, you weren't so sure.

Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers glowing in the dark. "Love is a luxury we can't afford," he said finally, his voice a harsh whisper. "This city, this war, it doesn't care about love." The room felt colder, the air thick with the bitterness of his words.

The silence between you was a scream, a howl of anger and hurt that echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. You felt the weight of his dismissal, the coldness of his gaze, and for a moment, you weren't sure if you could stand it. But you had come this far, and you weren't going to back down now.

"You don't give a fuck about me," you said, the words a declaration of your pain. "You use me for what I can do, for the power I give you." 

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade waiting to explode. Silco's expression didn't change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I've given you everything," you continued, your voice shaking. "My heart, my soul, my body." You paused, the words like a punch to his gut. "And what do I get in return?" You waited for an answer, but he remained silent, the smoke from his cigar the only indication of his breathing.

"I've built a life for you," you said, the anger now a cold, hard knot in your stomach. "I've raised your daughter, for fuck's sake, and this is how you treat me?" You stepped closer to him, the gap between you closing like a vice. "Like I'm nothing more than a whore you can use and discard?"

The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's eyes searched yours, looking for a way out, but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "You don't get to do that," you whispered, your voice a dangerous promise. "You don't get to use me like that."

He took a deep breath, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "I know you're more than that," he said, the words a begrudging admission. "But this city, this war..." He trailed off, the excuses on his tongue tasting bitter.

"This city, this war," you spat, mimicking his words. "It's always about that, isn't it? It's never about us, about what I've given to you, what I've sacrificed for you!" Your voice echoed through the stark emptiness of the room, each word a hammer blow to the foundation of your relationship.

Silco's expression was a mask, unreadable and unyielding. "You know why I do what I do," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know the stakes." The implication was clear: you were being selfish, thinking only of your own feelings when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

"The stakes?" you scoffed. "What about my stake in this, Silco? What about the love and loyalty I've given you?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of emotion, some spark of the man you had once loved. But his gaze remained flat, his heart a fortress you hadn't the key to breach.

"You're right," he said finally, the words a cold slap to the face. "You're not just a pawn, you're a queen. A queen who's been playing by the wrong set of rules." His words hung in the air like a noose, the gravity of his admission heavy and suffocating.

You took a step back, the weight of his words pushing you away from him. "So, what now?" you asked, the anger in your voice a whisper of what it had been. "Do we just pretend like nothing's changed?"

Silco's hand reached out to you, the cigar forgotten, his eyes searching yours. "We find a way to move forward," he said, the words a plea and a command. "For Jinx, for the city, for us." But you could see the doubt in his gaze, the fear that maybe the damage was irreparable.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the veins standing out against his pale skin, the dirt beneath his fingernails a testament to the battles he had fought. And for a moment, you wanted to take it, to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But the words stuck in your throat, the anger a living flame that refused to be extinguished.

"How can I trust you?" you whispered, the pain in your voice a living, breathing entity. "How can I believe that you won't just toss me aside again?" The room was a cage, the walls closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of his cigar and the weight

 of his silence.

"You have to," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You're the only one who can reach her, who can teach her the way of the world without breaking her." His hand hovered between you, a bridge over the chasm of your emotions. "I need you." The admission was raw, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the steel you were used to.

You felt the anger drain from you, replaced by a tired resignation. "Fine," you said, your voice a whisper. "But you need to understand, I won't be a pawn in your games anymore." You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs with the toxic fumes of your anger. "I'm more than just a weapon for you to wield."

Part 2: bc it's long...

Silco nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been more than I could ever ask for." His voice was gruff, the words clearly difficult for him to say. But there was sincerity in his tone, a warmth that you hadn't heard in weeks.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the calloused thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You're not just a weapon to me," he said, his gaze searching yours. "You're the heart of this city, the fire that keeps us all fighting." His words were a balm to the wound he had inflicted, a gentle reminder of the respect and admiration he had for you.

"You've given me a reason to believe in something more than just power," he continued, his voice a low rumble. "You've given me hope." 

The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the coldness of his usual demeanor, the tenderness of his touch a promise that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, calculating leader he presented to the world.

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. "But I need to hear it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to hear you say it." The words hung in the air, a silent plea for validation, for the reassurance that you hadn't been a fool for giving him your heart.

Silco took a deep breath, the cigar smoke swirling around him like a mist. "I trust you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "With everything I have, with everything I am." His eyes searched yours, the depth of his feelings laid bare. "You're more than just a lover, more than just a mother figure to Jinx."

He paused, the silence stretching between you like a tightrope. "You're my partner," he said finally, the words a declaration that resonated through the room. "My equal in every way that counts." The warmth in his voice was a promise that he saw you as more than just a means to an end, more than just someone to share his bed and his battles.

"You're the one who understands me," he went on, his thumb still tracing the line of your jaw. "You see the man beneath the monster, and you still choose to stand by my side." His eyes searched yours, looking for the flicker of doubt that had been festering in your heart. "I need you," he said again, the words a lifeline thrown into the stormy sea of your emotions.

"You're the smartest, most capable person I know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your shoulder. "You've kept me sane in this insane world we live in." The praise was like a balm to your bruised ego, the recognition of your worth a salve to the wounds he had unknowingly inflicted.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy with regret. "I should have realized sooner what you needed, what we both needed." His eyes searched yours, looking for a spark of forgiveness. "But I'm here now," he added, his voice a gentle promise. "And I'll do everything in my power to make it right."

The silence was a living, breathing thing in the room, a creature that fed on your doubt and anger. But as you looked into Silco's eyes, you could see the truth there, the raw regret that he had kept hidden behind his armor of power and control. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words a whisper that seemed to echo off the cold, stone walls. "I didn't realize what you needed from me."

His hand slid down to yours, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones. "I've been so focused on the war, on keeping this city alive, that I forgot what it was I was fighting for." His grip tightened, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive. "You've been here, by my side, and I've taken you for granted."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and pain that had been building for weeks. "You didn't just not realize," you said, your voice shaking. "You didn't even care." The accusation was a dagger thrown, aimed straight at his heart.

Silco flinched, the pain in your voice a blow he hadn't been prepared for. "That's not true," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've always cared, more than you know." He stepped closer, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I just didn't know how to show it."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that he had reached you, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. "But I see it now," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "I see what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry for being so blind." The room was a cocoon of regret, the air thick with the weight of his words.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're disposable," he continued, his voice a rough whisper. "For not seeing what was right in front of me." His hand slid to the back of your neck, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "You're not just a weapon, you're the soul of this city."

You felt the weight of his apology, the gravity of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. 

"But I've been so focused on winning, on keeping this city from falling apart, that I lost sight of what's truly important." His grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You're what's important."

The room was a prison, the silence a living creature that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The rain outside had stopped, the only sound the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his apology. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had fallen in love with, not the monster he had become.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words a prayer. "I should have been there for you, should have noticed what you needed." His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for understanding. "I got lost in the chaos, in the need to survive." His thumb stroked your cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been so focused on keeping the city standing that I forgot to look at the woman holding it up."

You nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. It was a start, a crack in the wall of anger you had built around your heart. "I know," you said, your voice a whisper. "But I need you to understand, Sil." Your eyes met his, the depth of your emotions a raging river. "I'm not just a weapon to be used, not just a body to be shared." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lines that had been crossed.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his hand moving to cradle your face. "More than I can say." The raw honesty in his voice was like a warm embrace, a promise that he would try to be better. You felt a softening in your chest, the ice around your heart beginning to melt. "Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, the first glimmer of hope breaking through the storm. "We'll start with talking," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of emotion. "Really talking, not just about missions and strategy." You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin a comfort. "I need you to see me, all of me." The vulnerability in your eyes was a silent demand for the connection that had been lost.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the question clear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. 

You took a deep breath, the words a declaration of what you needed. "I want you to be present," you said, the words a whisper. "To listen, to care, to be the man I know you can be." The room was a bubble, the outside world forgotten as you waited for his response.

"I'll do better," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with conviction. "For you, for Jinx, for us." His hand slid down from your face to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your chests met. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you like a river retreating from the shore. His grip tightened, his other hand sliding around to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was at once gentle and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips in a silent question.

You opened for him, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed your body, a silent apology for the weeks of neglect. His thumb brushed the pulse point at the base of your neck, the pressure of his touch a reminder of the power he held. But in this moment, you were the one in control, the one dictating the terms of their reconciliation.

Silco's kiss grew more insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, a testament to his desire. But you didn't yield immediately, instead pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You have to mean it," you murmured, the words a warning and a promise.

He nodded, the seriousness in his gaze unmistakable. "I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you." His hands slid down to grip your waist, his touch a silent promise. You felt your resolve waver, the anger giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

You leaned into him, the kiss deepening as his hands moved to your back, pressing you closer. His touch was a brand, a claim that you hadn't felt in so long, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to prove himself to you, to show you that he was more than just a monster.

Silco's hands roamed lower, cupping your ass, and you gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his desk, the wood cool against your skin. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, a silent vow to never let you go again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the heat of his body searing through your clothes.

You felt his hands slip under your shirt, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. A shiver of pleasure rippled through you as his touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before unhooking it with a practiced ease. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside to reveal your naked breasts to the warm air.

His eyes devoured you, the hunger in his gaze sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, and you moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting along your collarbone, his hands now working on the buttons of your pants.

As he pushed them down, you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of need that had been building since you saw him standing there, so strong and sure of himself. But now, in this moment, you knew he was yours, that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the only other noise the heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Silco stepped back for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, exposed and willing. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with a mix of desire and determination, before his hands returned to your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. His thumbs traced the insides of your thighs, the gentle pressure guiding you wider. "Every inch of you, so perfect." His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his mouth capturing your earlobe in a gentle nip that had you gasping. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, the words lost in the wave of sensation that flooded you as he began to kiss his way down your body. His mouth was a brand, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. Each touch was deliberate, each caress a silent promise to never take you for granted again. His hands were firm, his touch sure as he explored you, his thumbs teasing your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make this good for you," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent your pulse racing. "I'm going to show you how much you mean to me." His mouth found your center, his tongue delving into your folds with a gentle insistence that had you arching your back. His eyes remained on yours, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp that tore from your lips.

As he tasted you, Silco's hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, setting the rhythm of your hips against his face. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "So perfect." His tongue circled your clit, the touch light and teasing, building the tension within you until you were trembling.

You felt your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the pleasure that was threatening to consume you. "Sil," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as his tongue swiped from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Let me taste you, let me make you feel good." His tongue delved deeper, the wet heat of his mouth surrounding you, the pressure building until you were sure you would shatter. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you come apart in his arms.

His thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the fervent kisses he was placing along your slit. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a warm breath against your sensitive flesh. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, but also with a gentle concern that made your heart ache. "I'm going to make you come so hard, sweets.”

With a flick of his tongue, he swiped from your entrance to your clit, the suddenness making you gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a spark that ignited the fire that had been smoldering within you for weeks.

His eyes never left yours, watching for every twitch of your body, every gasp that slipped past your lips. His touch was both dominant and tender, his mouth moving with a confidence that left no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He dipped his tongue in again, this time lingering just a second longer before pulling away, drawing a long, low moan from you that you quickly muffled with your hand. The sound of your pleasure seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding. 

His thumbs slid up to press against your clit, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, filling you up before retreating again. The rhythm was a symphony of sensation, a dance that you had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

Silco's eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire reflecting the flickering candlelight. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "So perfect, gods I’ve fucking missed you." His thumbs began to rub circles around your clit, the gentle pressure building the tension that had you teetering on the edge of release. His tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you, savoring you as if you were the sweetest delicacy.

"Silco," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he focused his attention on your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue with a finesse that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each stroke was a declaration of his intent, a promise to never let you feel unwanted again. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, urging you closer to the brink.

He slipped two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. His eyes remained locked on yours, watching as your pupils dilated with pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "So fucking perfect."

He curled his fingers, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His thumb circled your clit before using his mouth again, the pressure building until you thought you might scream.

Silco's tongue was a masterful tool, flicking and swirling around your clit, driving you wild. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built. His movements deliberate and focused, as if he was memorizing every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

He added a third finger, the stretch making you squirm on the desk. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice a low purr that made your toes curl. "So fucking wet." His eyes searched yours, watching as the pleasure built, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to snap. His mouth moved to your clit again, the gentle sucking sending shockwaves through your body.

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly. "please," you moaned, your hand moving to his hair to tug him closer. 

He took the hint, his mouth closing around your clit, the suction a delicious pressure that had you biting down on your hand to keep from screaming. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, the sensation making your legs shake.

He was relentless, his tongue swiping and teasing, his fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you on the edge. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire and love a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a demand that you couldn't refuse. "Let go."

And so you did, your body arching off the desk as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. The sound of your muffled cries filled the room, your nails digging into the desk as you held on for dear life. 

Silco's eyes remained on yours, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he watched you come apart in his arms. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to draw out every last ounce of pleasure, his praise a gentle breeze that soothed your ragged soul.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his tongue lapping up the last of your release. He kissed a path back up to your mouth, his kisses gentle and reverent, a silent apology for the weeks of pain he had caused. His hands slid up to cradle your face, the warmth of his palms a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "You're mine," he whispered, the words a vow that seemed to echo in the air.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you as his lips moved to kiss away the tears that had begun to fall. "I know," you murmured, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "But you have to be mine too." The words were a soft demand, a reminder that this was a two-way street.

Silco nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I am," he said, his voice a low rumble. "And I will be." His hands moved to unbuckle his pants, his cock springing free, hard and demanding. "I need you," he said, the words a desperate plea. "All of you."

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a velvet whip that had you meeting his gaze. "I want to see you when I fuck you." His eyes searched yours, looking for the consent that you willingly gave.

With a slow, deliberate move, he pushed into you, the feel of him stretching you deliciously. "

You felt your eyes widen, the pleasure a stark contrast to the ache of his earlier touch. "Look at me," he murmured again, his voice a gentle command. "Let me see you." He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.

Silco's hips rolled into yours, each stroke a declaration of his dominance, his need for you. His eyes searched yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn't in weeks. His hands moved to grip your shoulders, the pressure grounding you as the world swirled around you.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck, the gentle bite a promise of more to come. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a soft purr. You nodded, the words lost in a moan that you couldn't hold back. His hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles that had your hips rising to meet his. "Good," he murmured, his voice a warm breath against your skin. "So good for me, love." His praises were a balm to your soul, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Silco's hips rolled in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching you open, filling you completely. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire a stark contrast to the tender way he touched you.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill of pleasure through you. His thumb circled your clit, his movements deliberate and precise, each touch a silent declaration of his dominance. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

You felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure too intense to bear. "No. Look at me," he said, his voice a gentle command that had your eyes snapping open. His gaze was a brand, a promise that he would never let you go again. "I want to see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "Let go, baby."

The praises fell from his lips like sweet nothings, each word a caress that had you writhing beneath him. "You're so tight," he said, his voice thick with need. "So wet." His hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin against skin the only sound in the quiet room. "You're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth as his cock claimed your body. His hands roamed your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt yourself rising to meet him, your body responding to his every command. Your hips moved in a silent dance, the slickness of your arousal a testament to his skill. "Yes," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it."

Your moans grew louder, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of need. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like when I fill you up?"

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure built within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might shatter. "Tell me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. "So... fucking... good." The words were a chant, a mantra that matched the beat of his hips. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark seduction that had you spiraling out of control.

And then you were there, the orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your nails dug into his back as you screamed his name, your body arching off the desk as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Silco's eyes never left yours, his gaze a lifeline as you fell apart in his arms.

He watched you come down, his hips still moving, the rhythm never faltering. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a soft growl. "Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to cherish." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that was burning in his chest.

Silco's grip tightened, his thrusts growing more demanding, his need for release an unspoken command. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. "Look at me while I come. Look at me sweetness." Your eyes snapped open, the intensity in his gaze like a brand on your soul. His movements grew wilder, his cock slamming into you with an urgency that had you gripping the desk for purchase.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a symphony of desire. "You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the power he held over your body. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched as he held back, trying to make it last.

But the need was too strong, the hunger too great. Silco lost control, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes going dark. "You're going to make me come." And with that, he let go, his cock pumping into you with a ferocity that had you gasping for breath.

You felt his climax, the hot spurts of his release filling you up. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent roar as he came, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, he remained still, his cock buried deep within you, his breathing heavy and erratic.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm passed, leaving you both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Silco's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilated and wild. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breaths hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own need.

He pulled out of you, the sensation of emptiness making you whine in protest. But he wasn't done yet. With a growl that was more animal than man, he flipped you over, your palms flat on the desk. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you to meet his renewed erection. "Again," he demanded, his voice a desperate plea. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Without a word, you pushed back, feeling him slide into you with a slick ease that had you gasping. His hips slammed into you, each thrust a punctuation to the silent conversation of your bodies. The desk creaked beneath your combined weight, the wood groaning in protest as you moved together in a dance as old as time.

Silco's hands were everywhere, gripping and caressing, his fingers digging into your flesh as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with every thrust. His breath was hot and ragged in your ear, his hips slamming into you with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through your core. The desk beneath you trembled with the force of his passion, the wood protesting with each punishing movement.

You moaned, your body moving in time with his, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. The sound was primal, a declaration of his dominance that had your inner walls clenching around him. "Sil," you whispered, your voice a plea for more. He responded with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you deeper.

You felt his cock swell within you, the pressure building until it was almost too much to bear. His movements grew erratic, his need for release palpable. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. But the dam was breaking, the intensity of your combined passion too great to hold back.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Silco lost control. His hips slammed into you, his cock plunging into your depths with a force that had you screaming. Each thrust was a declaration of his need, his desperation to claim you, to mark you as his. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown with lust as he watched your body take him in, your walls clenching around his length in a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure.

The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with each powerful thrust, the wood bending and flexing beneath the onslaught of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving bruises that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. His breath was ragged, his teeth gritted as he fought against the tide of his own desire. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, needy sounds of your union echoing off the walls.

"You're mine," Silco grunted, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. "All fucking mine." His eyes never left you, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of your body as he drove into you. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you panting for more. "You're going to scream for when you come."

He reached around, his hand finding your clit, his thumb rubbing in tight, fast circles that had you gasping for air. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark command that resonated through your entire being. "Now." Your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning, making your vision white out as you felt yourself squirt slightly, soaking the desk beneath you.

Silco's eyes were glued to the sight, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and possessiveness. "You're so beautiful when you come." His praise was intoxicating, the words wrapping around your thoughts and clouding your mind.

With each stroke of his thumb, your body trembled, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. "Sil," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sil, I can't." But you could, and you did, your body betraying you as it responded to his touch, his voice. His grip on your hips tightened, his cock slamming into you without mercy as he chased his own release.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice a gentle reminder of your place in his world. "Mine to fuck, mine to cherish." The words were like a drug, seeping into your veins and filling you with warmth. You felt yourself tighten around him, your muscles spasming as another orgasm began to build. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it. Take it all."

The room was a blur, the only thing in focus the feel of Silco's cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his tone a promise. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk." His thumb pressed harder, his movements faster, the pressure building until you thought you might burst.

With a final, desperate moan, you did, your body spasming around him as you squirted once more. The feeling was indescribable, the sensation of your release coating the desk beneath you, a testament to his power over your body. His grip tightened, his hips moving faster as he claimed your body, his own orgasm close at hand.

You felt him swell, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his seed filling you to the brim. His roar of pleasure was a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, a declaration of his triumph. You collapsed against the desk, your body trembling, your heart racing as the aftershocks of your climax washed over you.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead staying inside you, his cock still twitching as he caught his breath. His hand moved from your clit to your waist, holding you in place as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a gentle caress that had you trembling. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Soaking wet for me, your cunt clenching around me."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Silco withdrew, the emptiness making you whimper. You felt the warmth of his release spill out of you, painting the desk with your combined pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the dominant beast that had just claimed you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of distress, the softness of his gaze a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Your legs wobbled as he helped you to the couch, his strong arms supporting your weight as you sank into the leather. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to pulse through your body. He sat beside you, his hand caressing your cheek as he studied you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Leaning in, Silco captured your mouth in a kiss that was as soft as it was demanding, a declaration of his ownership that had you melting into him. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a gentle dominance that had you craving more. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the path of your curves with a possessive fondness that had you shivering.

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were a mess, your clothes in disarray, your makeup smeared, and your hair a wild mess around your flushed face. But to Silco, you were the most beautiful creature in the world. 

He leaned back, his eyes traveling down to the mess between your legs. The evidence of his dominance was clear, a slick mess that had your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

With a gentle touch, he wiped a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering on your skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the beast he had been moments ago. "For everything." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

You nodded, the fight from earlier forgotten in the wake of the passion that had just swept through you. "I know," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "And I'm sorry too." The words were a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were on the same page, like you were a team.

Silco leaned in, his kiss gentle, almost chaste, but no less powerful for it. "Let's go home," he whispered, his voice a promise of warmth and comfort. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you gathered your clothes, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. 

But as you stepped into the rain-soaked streets, you felt something shift. The storm outside matched the one that had just passed between you, but now there was a sense of calm in the aftermath.

Hand in hand, you walked through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. The rain had let up, leaving only a gentle drizzle that seemed to cleanse the air around you. Silco's grip was firm, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, the storm of emotions from earlier dissipating like the rain.

You stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of the building a stark contrast to the cold outside. The silence was a balm to your ears, the only sound the steady beat of your hearts. Silco led you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. As he helped you into bed, the softness of the sheets was a comfort that seemed to melt the tension from your muscles.

He slid in beside you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His chest was a wall of warmth, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "Together."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words in your bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were united, a force to be reckoned with. The city outside was a canvas waiting for you to paint your love and anger upon it.

[lis-likes-fics]

Just a Drink

Pairing(s): Tommy Shelby x bartendere!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words Prompt: Semi-Public/Public Sex Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, semi-public/public sex, caught, brief fingering, creampie... A/N: This made giggle and hot at the same time, lol. Enjoy and happy reading!

“Are we celebrating, drowning sorrows, or just drinking tonight, Tommy?”

You set the bottle on the counter, leaning against the bar as you await Tommy's answer. He sits at a stool, a cigarette between his lips and his eyes generally uninterested as he stares off.

The bar is mostly empty. Harry has already gone home for the night—you man the bar so often that the patrons know you and know not to give you any trouble. If anyone comes in looking for trouble, you send them on their way with a gun as a warning. If you ever need to pull the trigger, you've got the Peaky Blinders to clean up the mess for you.

There are two other men sitting around, holding their glasses in their palms and looking about ready to throw in the towel. Neither of you pay them any attention. They don't matter.

“Just drinking,” he sighs.

You hum, grabbing a glass and pouring his fill. “Thought so.” You pass it over, crossing your arms over the bar as you lean in. “You don't look sullen enough for drowning, and your brothers would be here if you were celebrating.”

He hums, taking a sip from his cup. “Aye,” he flicks the ashes from his cigarette. “Sounds about right…”

You smile, pouring your own glass. “Then you won't mind if I have a drink of my own.” You've already taken a sip before he can answer.

“Not at all,” he murmurs. He finally looks up at you with more thought than he had before. Tommy Shelby's always got a million things on his mind. If you take a few moments to come to the front of it, you will gladly wait your turn. He's saved your arse enough to earn the time.

You wait a moment before speaking, gaging the look in his eyes with another hum. “You've been busy,” you say. “This is the first sit-down you've had with me in…a few days?”

“Aye,” he says again. He brings his cup to his lips, his brows drawn like he's still thinking about things. “Have you missed me, luv?”

You shrug a shoulder. “Believe it or not, you're good company, Mr. Shelby.” You trace the rim of your glass with your lip, looking at him over the top before sipping once more.

A tiny smirk graces his lips as he takes in the look on your face. “Not just company, I assume…” He takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing it out as the smoke billows around his head. “Have I been that busy?”

You shrug again, looking back down at your glass to trace the top again, this time with the tip of your finger. “You know no one else treats me quite as right as you.”

You don't pay any mind to the scoot of a chair from somewhere in the pub. One of the two customers still left behind stands to take his leave, shrugging on his coat and letting his cap follow as he leaves a coin behind. The last man decides to follow suit, leaving you and Tommy alone.

“S’that so?” You pluck his cigarette from between his fingers as he speaks. “Must be a fuckin’ saint.”

Smoke puffs out of your mouth with your snicker, and you shake your head as your smirk curls around the silver air. “You are no saint, Tommy Shelby.”

He nods, accepting that with his own silent chuckle. “At least nothing’s changed then.”

You lean over the counter, swaying your hips lightly. The cigarette ghosts over your bottom lip as you bat your lashes at him. “So are you going to keep me waiting, or shall I drop my knickers now?”

You blow smoke from your lips and watch it curl around his face. He doesn't even flinch, staring back at you with eyes steadily filling with a veil of lust. They glance down at your cleavage, so expertly placed for his sneaking eyes.

He lingers for a moment, another hum slipping through as he grabs his glass again. “I'm going to finish this…” he takes another small sip, plucking his cigarette back from your fingers, “and then I'm going to fuck you.”

It's a fair deal. You nod, grabbing a rag to start wiping down the bar, retrieving the coins left behind on the unoccupied tables to place in your apron.

By the time you're finished, Tommy's finishing off his last sip and standing from his stool. You wander back behind the bar, grabbing both your glasses to clean them out. You don't look at him as he follows after you, lighting a new cigarette as he goes.

His hand settles on your waist, and you smile as you continue wiping down the bar. He catches you by surprise, pressing his palm to your back and pushing you down against the counter top. You grunt, clutching the rag in your hand as he lifts your skirts all the way up and over the curve of your hips.

Tommy shoves your undergarments down as he gropes one of your cheeks in his palm. He hums appreciatively, taking no time in teasing you. He just shoves two thick fingers between your folds, which are becoming wetter and wetter by the second.

You bite your lip to stifle the moan stuck in your throat. He works them into you, curling his fingers so much that your knees buckle under the pleasure. The hand on your waist lifts up just to slap down harshly against your warm skin. You nearly cry out at the sudden movement as you feel the sharp sting spreading over the expanse of your tingling flesh.

His fingers pull out of you, slipping forward to cup your cunt and wet his hand. They brush against your clit, and your hips nearly jerk backwards against him. “Has it been that long, luv?” he hums.

“It's your own fault, though I'm sure you're quite proud of it,” you huff, your eyes closed as your body keens against his touch, worse when he circles your clit in quick but light movements that would never allow an actual orgasm. Your voice shakes. “You ruined me, Tommy. Can't get this from anyone else.”

He smirks, though you can only hear it with the way he's got you bent over. He pulls his hands from you, and you yelp when he smacks your pussy, clenching around air and wishing it was him.

“I'm terribly sorry,” he lies, and you hear the dizzying sound of his belt clinking.

“You're not.”

Tommy chuckles airily. “I'm not.” He frees his cock with a stroking hand, and you try not to grind back against him in such a needy way as you anticipate the coming of his desire.

He fills you a moment later, thrusting his cock inside of you with a deep grunt as he bottoms out. You let out a heavy sigh, stifling the moan at the tip of your tongue as he presses against the deepest part of you.

Tommy holds his cigarette between his lips as he brings one strong hand to your hip and the other to wrap around your throat. You hum, letting him pull your head back as he begins to thrust into you with rough, quick snaps of his hips. Once he finds a steady pace, he lets go of your throat in favor of pinching his smoke between his fingers.

“You feel better now that your cunt’s nice and full, darling?” he taunts, pulling smoke into his lungs in a deep breath. It billows from his nose as he huffs on a harsh thrust.

You struggle to contain your moans, stuck on the pleasure wrapping around your throat and filling your body until your legs are weak. “Yeah,” you gasp, holding onto the edge of the counter for support. “Don’t stop, Tommy.”

“Now why would I go and do that, eh?” he hums, smacking your arse again before pressing down on the small of your back. Your body buzzes with pleasure, and you can feel it nipping at your heels and at your fingertips. Your breaths and the sound of his hips smacking into you fill the air, occasionally accompanied by a stray moan or grunt.

Your head turns when you hear the sound of the pub doors opening, a dramatic motion that could only come from one breed of man—a Shelby.

Arthur walks in with a strut that you find relatively unnecessary, worse when his eyes land on the two of you and a sly grin spreads over his lips. “I see you’re a bit too busy to pour me a drink, luv,” he quips, his cigarette dangling between his lips as he speaks.

Tommy’s movements don’t stop—it’s not like this is the first time one of his brothers have walked in on the both of you. You were once tending to him beneath his desk, and he didn’t even care to pretend to shield you from his brother’s gaze, encouraging you to keep going as he talked about business or something of the sort. You don’t remember much, you were a bit preoccupied with the way he tasted on your tongue to listen in.

Tommy thrusts harder into you, your moans catching in your throat with a shudder that sounds as though you might cry. “Aye,” he huffs. “What is it you want, Arthur?” His hair is falling over his forehead. He doesn’t even look at his brother as his eyes stay trained on you and the way his cock keeps disappearing into your tight cunt.

“Just a drink, as I said,” he shrugs, strutting forward and stepping behind the pub. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over the counter and burying your head as you focus on the overwhelming pleasure.

“You can h-have whatever you bloody want, Arthur,” you huff, a few whimpers slipping into your words as you speak.

He laughs, that deep, wheezing sound that means he’s enjoying himself as he looks around the shelves for his choice of liquor. He grabs a bottle of whiskey, clutching it in his hands before doing a little spin in search of something. “Where the bloody hell are the glasses?”

“You don’t n-need a fucking glass,” you gasp. A small cry takes you by surprise when Tommy brings you back hard on his cock in time with a rough thrust.

“Course, I do,” he says, entirely unfazed as he looks down at you. You turn your head in your arms to see him, a glare in your eyes only partially tinted with amusement at his antics. Arthur smacks his chest, puffing it out to look big as he watches you. “What do you think I am? A fuckin’ animal?” Tommy rolls his eyes. “No, a fuckin’ gentleman is what I am, and a fuckin’ gentleman don’t drink straight from the bottle. Isn’t that right, Tommy?”

You reach beneath the counter, clumsily grabbing a glass and shoving it out toward him. Tommy motions to it with his cigarette. “There you are, Arthur. Now take your glass there and go fuck off. As you can see, we’re both a bit busy right now.” He takes a drag from his cigarette and lets the smoke surround his head as he turns back to you. “Would you hold this for me, darling?”

He hands you his smoke, and you take it and set it between your lips gratefully. A moan catches in your throat when he free hands wraps around your waist, just to press a callused finger against your needy clit. Smoke puffs quickly from your mouth in a flurry.

You’d almost forgotten Arthur was there until the sound of the bar door slamming back down catches your attention. “Alright, alright,” he smiles, glass and bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Apparently,” a moan cuts you off, “not well enough.” He lets out another thundering laugh as he walks away, leaving the two of you be. Just in time too, because you feel like you will fall apart any minute now. “Tom, I’m so close.”

“I know, luv,” he grunts. “Just have another smoke, eh?”

You do as you’re told, bringing it to your lips and letting it feed into your system as you become looser and looser. Your head swarms with all the pleasure around you, and you’re finding it harder and harder to hold it together.

“That’s it,” he coos, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic as he nears his own release. His grip on your hip tightens, his circling finger on your clit intends to drive you mad.

Your thighs begin to twitch, the shocks of a coming release shooting off in your veins. It's only when his thrusts become short and deep and rough, that you're sent over the edge with a cry that you struggle to muffle behind pursed lips. You drop your head into your arms, pressing your mouth against your forearm in an effort to conceal an unconcealable sound.

Waves of pleasure crash down on you, dizzying you, filling you until you feel like you can no longer stand. Tommy's hand on your waist is the only thing keeping you up.

As your cunt flutters and clenches around him, his name crying into your arm, he feels his fuse running out. With a few final, untempered thrusts, he spills inside of you with a quiet gasp, his grunt rough in his throat. “Fuck, that's it,” he huffs, still shoving his cock inside of you to finish off the last of his release. “Take it all, darling. There you are.”

Your legs quiver beneath you, weak under the warmth spreading through you and the last sensations of your orgasm seeping into the fabric of your bones and your veins until you're nothing but a distant buzz.

You curse under your breath when your brain settles, and you feel like you can think straight again. Tommy pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants with a hum. “How are you now, luv?”

You nod, catching your breath as you stand up straight. You take a long breath of smoke into your lungs, stretching your arms over your head and sighing it all out as you feel the relief of the popping in your back.

Smoke curls around Tommy's face, and he doesn't even flinch. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in and taking his cigarette back. He kisses you, long and possessive but satisfied with the release of the tension in his body.

“Really fuckin’ good,” you breathe once he pulls away.

He nods. “Good.” He kisses you again, watching you bend down to pull your undergarments back up your thighs and smooth out your dress.

“Don't make me wait so long next time,” you smirk, pulling him in by his tie. Your noses brush, teasing one another before finally giving in to a third kiss. You try not to get carried away. You still have to properly close the pub before you end up in Tommy Shelby's bed once more.

“My apologies.”

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyisms @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bernelflo @dragonslayersupremacy @alurafairy @pietroxreader @darkcastle167 @neonpurplestars89 @motopoppp @mrkdvidal1989 @thegen3sisark @niktwazny303 @feyresqueen @lovelylilbadone @electraphyng @carolina-angel @xsweetcatastrophe Tag yourself here...

[lovebugism]

Hi!! I an so obsessed with your writing and characterization. Congrats on one year!! Can i request something for Steve?

Prompt:”i didnt realise we still weren't..."

Where someone asks reader and Steve how long theyve been together, Steve thinks theyd been dating this whole time, reader is confused cause Steve never asked her! Best friends to lovers and theyre both a little clueless. Thank you!!

i changed up the prompt a bit but i hope you like it :D — jim and joyce force you and steve to have an important talk about your relationship (established relationship-ish, also best friends to lovers-ish, fluff, 0.9k)

“Does it feel any better now?” Steve asks, cuddled next to you on the porch swing outside the Byers’ home. He’s been wearing the same worried glint in his honey eyes since the sun went down — when he tried to give you a piggyback ride and then slipped in the mud. He broke your fall for the most part, but your ankle got caught underneath him.

You nod, then grimace when you try to twist your foot. “Sorta…” you shrug.

“Have I said I’m sorry yet?” he jokes with a scrunch to the bridge of his chiseled nose.

“Only a billion times.”

“Well, I’m gonna make it a billion and one now. ‘Cause I’m sorry.”

“I’ve already said it’s okay,” you assure with a giggle, leaning over to knock your shoulder against his. “It doesn’t even feel that bad anymore. I swear.”

“I’ll kiss it better when we get home,” he offers, just to make you get all shy. His soft smirk widens to a fuller beam when his ploy works. “I mean, you are staying over tonight, right?”

“Of course,” you shrug. “How else are you gonna kiss my sprained ankle better?”

“Touché.”

He leans in for a kiss. The tip of his nose just barely grazes the side of yours when the screen door shrieks open. The Talking Heads playing from inside grows suddenly louder, then muffles again when the door shuts. Jim and Joyce stumble out together — eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, obviously not totally sober.

The woman pops a cigarette between her pink lips. Hopper lights it for her. “You know… I’ve already booked the reservation for Enzo’s,” he tells her lowly. His back faces the two of you, totally unaware of your presence and blocking any view of you.

“Oh,” she hums sarcastically, blowing smoke from her lungs. “Is that right?”

“Yep. So either I sit there all alone with my chee-anty, or you come and keep me company,” Jim lilts in a quiet, honeyed tone. “And if that doesn’t sound like a good time, then maybe the bottomless breadsticks will win you over.”

Steve leans against your shoulder. His mouth rests outside your ear. “Do you think they know we’re out here?” he asks.

You raise a silent hand with a pointed finger, shushing him without saying a word.

Joyce giggles like a teenage girl. “Look. I don’t even know if I like you,” she teases.

“But you’re thinking about it, right?” Hopper wonders, with all the hope of a schoolboy asking out a girl way out of his league. “‘Cause you should.”

Steve shifts. The porch swing squeaks. Both parents turn to face you, features softly agape. Jim blinks once. “You guys been sittin’ there the whole time?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“Enough to hear you groveling,” you answer.

“Alright…” he grumbles half-heartedly.

“The bottomless breadsticks are actually pretty good, Joyce,” Steve chirps obliviously, smiling wide and flitting his eyes between the two standing across the porch. “But, you know, if she doesn’t wanna go with you, Chief, I’m always available—”

“Okay, let’s go around back,” Hop announces, guiding Joyce down the steps with a hand curled gently around her elbow. The woman giggles when you whistle suggestively at them. Jim shouts at you over his shoulder. “Watch it! And ice that ankle when you get home!”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Harrington, don’t let her walk on it,” the man sighs, already exasperated. “Be a gentleman, alright? Give your girl a day’s bed rest, dote on her or whatever—”

“Oh, we’re not— I’m not his girlfriend,” you correct with a forced laugh.

Your words seem to take Steve by surprise. He flashes you a look, scruff features swirled with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re not dating, Steve.”

He scoffs an awkward laugh, brows pinching. “You’re joking, right?”

“Well, this is awkward,” Jim mumbles, grateful he’s not the butt of the joke for once.

Joyce slaps his arm. “Hop.”

“We’re gonna go,” the man announces, heading towards the backyard. “Have fun with… this.”

Steve waits until they’re gone to face you fully. He turns on the swing until his knee brushes the outside of your own. The hurt puppy expression on his face hasn’t quite ebbed. “You don’t think we’re dating?”

“You do?” you retort.

“Yes!” Steve shouts, talking wildly with his hands. “Our first date was at Enzo’s! I brought you flowers and everything!”

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend, Steve—”

“I thought it was implied!”

“—I thought you didn’t wanna be, like, official with me or something!”

Steve goes suddenly silent. His chest starts to ache like there’s a fire rising behind his ribcage. He swallows hard. “Have you been… Have you been seeing other people?”

“No!” you answer instantly, face twisted in abhorrence of the thought. “Of course not!”

“Okay. Good,” he nods, raking a hand through his wild hair and settling again. “‘Cause I haven’t either, so… We’ve basically been dating this whole time.”

You meet his smile with a playful glower. “You still shouldn’t asked me, though.”

“Well, I’m asking you now,” he announces and wraps an arm around your shoulder. He leans in until you can smell the birthday cake and soda on his breath. You don’t notice until now that your lipstick is smeared on his mouth. “Do you wanna be girlfriend-boyfriend with me?”

You purse your lips to the side with a playful hum. “Mm. I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

[moonstruckme]

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade. 

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines. 

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.” 

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.” 

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin. 

Remus isn’t smiling. 

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking. 

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.” 

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression. 

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.” 

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.” 

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.” 

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.” 

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.” 

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears. 

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks. 

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.” 

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.” 

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?” 

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.” 

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.