#i know there are different spellings but i usually spell hers as whiskey | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eirist · 2 years ago

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Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

HAVE A DRINK WITH ME

One-shot #: 36

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (A bit outright suggestive near the end because Zoro just can’t help himself.)

Note: Happy Birthday to our lovely navigator, the one and only cat burglar and weather queen! I was supposed to post a different story but decided to go for a lighter, PWP-ish one. Because I need to get this out of my system.

Summary: This time they definitely don’t need any drinking competitions or alcohol to do it.

Nami had always thought...

...that alcohol would be the one sole reason why something will happen between her and Zoro.

Something that will cross the imaginary boundary they both had unwittingly set between them right from the beginning. Totally dissolving it to nothing… completely eradicating its existence.

As if it’s never been there from the start.

It was during her birthday celebration when they first found themselves engaged in a serious and fierce one on one drinking competition after giving in to Usopp’s endless taunting that night that they would never find out who can really outdrink the other; given how they always seemed to knock back almost the same amount of alcohol at the festivities the crew usually attends or held.

That irked Zoro and made Nami smirk cockily. Whiskey Peak was never settled. And she was pretty confident she can outdrink him seeing how he always passes out while in the middle of drinking.

She haughtily accepted the challenge and much to her surprise, Zoro did too.

Well… pride was at stake and so were some belis…

With a barrel between them and the whole crew gathering around to watch and cheer their favorites, their drinking competition commenced.

Nami almost forgot that it was her birthday party because somehow it turned into the kind of merriment Zoro would appreciate if it was his special day.

Nonetheless she was having a blast—making fun of him, teasing and trying to put him one tankard behind her, mug after mug after mug amidst the shouts of their rowdy crew mates.

Their drinking prowess was inhuman as everyone in the crew soon realized that they were still at it even as the night wore on and the younger members of the crew settled down the lawn deck to sleep.

The older ones left them on their own knowing that in the battle of wills and pride, Zoro and Nami will not stop until the other is totally obliterated.

Nami was not sure how they went from squabbling in between drinks to actually relaxing and enjoying the alcohol between them as they shared stories and laughter from when they first met Luffy up until now that their crew had grown in number and strength and standing.

The fact that they were trying to drink each other under the table was forgotten just like that.

She was in the middle of laughing amidst the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy, Chopper and Usopp with her head thrown back and without a care in the world when her eyes caught Zoro’s.

He was looking at her intently, like he was scrutinizing her even if his face showed a slight hint of amusement at her antics.

And something just clicked inside Nami and she realized…

…something had just shifted between her and Zoro right at that very moment.

They originally started drinking while facing each other with a barrel between them.

And now they are so…

Close.

They nearly kissed that night.

Nearly.

It didn't happen though. A loud splash of water broke their trance. It was as if the cold liquid itself had drenched them and woke their senses up, sending them hurtling back to reality. Next thing they know, they were scampering towards the railing, immediately sobering up when they realized their idiot captain had stupidly fallen into the sea while sleepwalking and searching for meat.

That was the end of that.

They never tried to talk about it. Chalked it off to one moment of insanity produced by drinking barrels and barrels of alcohol just to best each other. Nami thought that it was just a one-time thing. A once in a lifetime occurrence.

But she was wrong.

Because ever since that night, whenever there was a party or a celebration of sorts or any festivities where the Straw Hat crew finds themselves in the center of…

…she and Zoro will find each other—to try and see who really drinks the most.

And who is brave enough to make the first move.

Because in all honestly. Their drinking competitions always end up in that certain moment where they are so close to each other that all Zoro needed to do was lean down some more and all Nami had to do was tilt her head up a little.

And they would kiss.

But that was it.

No kiss ever happened in all the times they had a drinking battle or even when they just casually drank with each other in some random bars on whatever island they were currently docked.

Then in one, unexpected instant—their lives were turned upside down when they were all forcefully separated by a warlord.

Two years was a long time. And Nami was sure that that time apart had brought back the invisible, unspoken boundary she and Zoro had between them that they had been too reluctant to cross when they had the chance.

She was fairly certain that those two years had put a damper on what was going between them. They were young, a bit reckless and their adventurous and high spirits might just be the reason why they wanted to break down that barrier that keeps their relationship purely platonic.

Then… Fishman Island.

Nothing that happened before they were separated ever came so close to what took place while they were in that place.

When they finally and eventually got the chance to be alone with each other again for the first time in two years in that almost secluded and quiet steps of Ryugu Palace in Fishman Island (while she was taking a break from drinking and he was planning to nap in between)...

...their lips almost touched.

Closer than it had ever been.

She can feel his breath, warm against her lips as he exhaled deeply. It caressed her face in the softest of all touches and she knew right there and then...

...that he had missed her.

If it wasn't for Usopp suddenly appearing and loudly joining them with Chopper and Sanji in tow, Nami knew that they would finally have given in to that longstanding urge to kiss each other.

Still that was the last of that. Again. The moment they entered the New World, the crew had to go and separate into different group—too often for Nami's taste—so they could do what they meant to do.

And whatever celebration they had after reuniting every now and then, were fast and shadowed with current issues they had to deal with where lives and freedom were at stake.

There was no time to think about what was going on between her and Zoro. So she decided to finally leave it at that. They are in the New World after all and they both have more important things to consider. To do. To prioritize. Than what was going on between them.

So Nami decided to just let it all go.

Besides, if it really meant to happen. It will happen.

The festivities at the Flower Capital of Wano Country had finally dwindled down after days and days of celebration. Everyone was busy doing their own things now—some recuperating and relaxing while others are enjoying the long-awaited freedom and peace that was denied to them for so many years.

Nami was wandering around the shogun’s castle, stealthily looking for any treasure Orochi and his minions might have left. At the same time, she was enjoying the nocturne view of the country from the long corridor balcony. The entire capital below was highlighted under the glow of the full moon and it was exquisitely beautiful.

She had stopped for a moment to savor the night air and the soft murmurs of movements and muffled voices from all over the castle and was actually surprised to see Zoro heading towards her.

He had probably just finished his training since he was coming from the lower floor where he and Momonosuke usually practiced their sword skills.

He gave her a nod when he saw her. And without another word, he joined her in her moon viewing.

And they both stayed there in the balcony—silent,��contented and just watching the world outside them.

It was the first time they had the chance to be alone again since Fishman Island.

When you just came out of the biggest, most dangerous battle of your entire life—alive, still kicking and in one piece like they have—it kind of gives you a different perspective and makes you appreciate everything around you more. It makes you want to pull the people you cherish the most close to you and never let go.

Nami veered away from the scenery before her and so she can look at the green-haired swordsman.

Zoro looks so full of life now—a stark contrast to the man lying down on the futon a few days ago; pale, unconscious and heavily wounded.

A bandage was still wrapped around his head. Nami knew he still have wounds that need to heal. She should chastise him from going straight into training when he should be resting but she knows it’s just a waste of time.

Instead she reached out and softly touched his cheek, wanting to convey to him without words that she’s grateful that he is still here. That he and Luffy are still here.

That they are all still here.

When she finally moved, Zoro met her halfway.

And Nami instantly knew that their kiss is finally meant to happen.

She always thought they'd be drunk when they do kiss. They are always drinking whenever they find themselves in that certain moment before a kiss should happen. And she had it in her mind that they’d only get the courage to push further and finally do it because there is alcohol surging in their systems.

But here they are. All sober.

"Oi what are you thinking about?

Nami blinked as she was pulled out of her ruminations by that familiar drawl.

She pushed away from the Sunny's railing to look at the newcomer. She had quietly slipped away from the on-going celebration of her birthday for a fresh air. She had drunk a lot. A lot. With Jinbe know officially a member of their crew, the toasts just keep going and going.

Damn fishmen and their alcohol tolerance! Jinbe can hold his liquor much better than she or Zoro combined can! She took a deep breath before answering. "Nothing. Just taking a break," she tried to act nonchalant by shrugging her shoulders. Zoro chuckled. "Seems like you are at your limit." It was dark outside alright. But she can make out that certain glint in his lone, grey eye whenever he’s teasing her. She huffed. "Dream on. Don't even think you can best me. I can still go on." He laughed. "Still confident you can top me huh?"

Nami grinned cattily at that. "Oh Zoro. I know and you know that I can," she winked at him, deliberately letting the innuendo hang between them while trailing a finger down the uncovered part of his chest.

Zoro seemed to get it immediately much to her surprise because the grin on his face was shit-eating.

She cut-off any remark he had on that by poking him on the chest with her finger. “Why are you here anyway?”

“You were missed.”

She brightened up at that. “You mean you missed me?”

His only answer was a huff of his own. But she had become so good at reading him and the not-so-cleverly-hidden meaning of his words and actions. She knew she hit it spot on.

“Let’s go back,” he invited nodding towards the galley’s direction. “They’ll wonder where we are.”

“Let’s just let them,” she said cheekily. “We are not exactly hiding anything.”

He looked amused and brushed a swift kiss on her nose.

“It’s your birthday,” Zoro reminded her. “And you have birthday girl responsibilities.”

Nami raised an eyebrow at him. “Responsibilities?”

“Yeah. Like start a drinking competition.” He looked so happy with the idea that he can raid all their booze stock without being reprimanded by Sanji. “I’m getting impatient.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Fine,” she grudgingly agreed. “Let’s go back and have our usual competition. I’ll beat your ass fair and square. You lose… I get all your allowances in the next three islands.”

Zoro just snorted at her claim and easily wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. He planted a kiss on her temple. She giggled when his lips brushed against the shell of her ear before moving to kiss her fully.

This time they definitely don’t need any drinking competitions or alcohol to do it.

“Come on then,” Zoro said when he pulled away from her. He suddenly tugged her towards the stairs leading to the galley looking almost excited. “Let’s see if you’re really as good as you claim to be.” He was grinning menacingly at her.

Damn this man and his booze.

Nami groaned even as she let him cart her back to where she can hear the Luffy yelling ‘meat’ above the chatter of their crewmates’ voices.

She stopped him before he can push the door open.

"Be nice Zoro. It’s my special day,” she reminded him oh-so-sweetly so he’d go easy on her.

Zoro gave her a smug grin.

“Be nice Nami. I might let you sit on my face tonight for your special day."

His voice was low when he said that and it immediately sent Nami on fire—every single part of her being heating up at that.

His grin was cocky as he opened the galley door before she can even retort, whispering ‘happy birthday’ in her ear, pushing her inside—back to her celebration, their crewmates and the Straw Hats signature chaos.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shot #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #roronoa zoro #nami

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abbythewritor · 15 days ago

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Winter is Coming. Chapter Seven.

Description: Y/N Targaryen, the last true daughter of House Targaryen, bears the weight of her lineage on her broad shoulders. Young, fiercely determined, and often underestimated for her plus-size figure, she is forced into an unyielding marriage alliance with one of the most dangerous men across the seas: Crocodile, the ruthless warlord and cunning leader of Baroque Works. Torn from Westeros and thrust into the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, Y/N must navigate the treacherous alliances, schemes, and monstrous forces that haunt her every step. As Crocodile’s bride, her life becomes a game of survival—earning his respect while enduring his cold indifference and manipulative tendencies. However, the fire in her blood will not be dimmed. With whispers of ancient dragons and visions of the Iron Throne calling her home, Y/N begins to embrace her Targaryen birthright, proving that dragons do not cower—they conquer.As war brews across the seas and in Westeros alike, Y/N’s journey will test her body, spirit, and mind. With Crocodile as both her captor and potential ally, she will rise through betrayal, blood, and fire to claim her destiny. Winter is coming, but fire and blood will follow.

Warnings: Explicit content, blood, Violence, Sexual content, you know Game of Thrones stuff.

Just to be clear: I do not own Game of Thrones or One Piece, they belong to the creators. I wrote this story on Chat GTP to help with story structure and Spelling. Y/n in this story is overweight and plus size, as I rarely see Y/n's that are bigger in fanfiction at all, so I'd thought it will be different. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR CHILDREN!!! As like Game of Thrones, it will have a lot of explicit, and graphic scenes!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!!!

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The chamber had grown quiet, the earlier drumbeats now little more than echoes in the air. Deep within the stone walls of Rainbase’s fortress, Crocodile sat alone in his private quarters. A fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long shadows that flickered against the walls. The room was sparse and utilitarian, devoid of unnecessary luxury. Heavy curtains hung over the windows, muting the desert moonlight, leaving the fire’s glow to dominate the room.

Crocodile sat in a wide leather chair near the fire, his legs stretched out before him. In one hand, he held a glass of whiskey—its deep amber liquid catching the firelight, swirling faintly with each slow turn of his wrist. His golden hook rested heavily against the armrest of the chair, its polished edge glinting with an almost predatory light.

The silence in the room was his only companion, and for once, he didn’t find it as comforting as he usually did.

Her voice lingered in his mind—soft, trembling, laced with defiance and pain. “Is this… what you wanted?”

The words had been spoken in Valyrian, but the tone—gods, the tone—had been universal. Her voice shook not just with fear, but with something deeper. And those tears… Crocodile could still hear the faint sound of them hitting the marble floor.

A soft plink, like drops of rain.

The image of her standing there, shoulders bared, vulnerable and trembling, returned unbidden. The way the guards had stared at her, their low laughter barely concealed as they took in the shape of her body. Their disrespect had irritated him more than he cared to admit. Not because of her, he told himself. Because they forgot their place.

Crocodile scowled faintly, bringing the glass of whiskey to his lips and taking a slow, deliberate sip. The burn of it slid down his throat, bitter and sharp, but it did nothing to silence the noise in his mind.

He could still hear her words. He could still feel the weight of that moment—how her fire, even dimmed by humiliation, still refused to go out.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of the door opening. Crocodile didn’t look up, didn’t turn his head as the sharp click of heels echoed faintly against the stone floor. He knew who it was before she spoke.

“Miss All Sunday,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

Robin stepped into the room, her figure silhouetted briefly by the firelight before she moved further in, her cloak trailing behind her. She paused near the edge of the hearth, her sharp eyes fixed on Crocodile as he stared into the flames.

“You didn’t follow through with the ceremony,” she said softly, though there was no accusation in her tone. “The men noticed. They’re talking.”

Crocodile exhaled a slow breath, tilting the glass of whiskey in his hand, watching as the liquid swirled. “Let them talk,” he said coolly.

Robin’s lips quirked faintly, though her eyes remained unreadable. “It’s not like you to deviate from tradition.”

Crocodile’s gaze flicked toward her then, sharp and assessing, though he said nothing for a moment. The firelight danced across the deep lines of his face, casting harsh shadows beneath the scar that ran from his brow to his cheek.

“She’s not worth the effort?” Robin asked, though there was a glimmer of curiosity in her tone—curiosity that Crocodile noticed.

He chuckled softly, though the sound lacked humor. “That’s what they’ll think,” he said, leaning back into the chair. His golden hook tapped against the armrest, the faint metallic clink punctuating the silence. “They’ll tell themselves I spared her because she’s weak, or useless.”

Robin tilted her head faintly, stepping closer to the fire. “And is that what you think?”

Crocodile’s eye narrowed slightly, his fingers tightening around the glass. He turned back toward the fire, the flames reflecting in his gaze like molten gold. “She’s not weak,” he said after a moment, his voice low. “Not yet.”

Robin studied him carefully, the faintest hint of intrigue flickering across her features. “Then why didn’t you break her? It’s what the ceremony was meant for—to ensure loyalty, to solidify power.”

Crocodile scowled, his lips curling faintly as he stared deeper into the fire. “Because broken things are only useful for so long.”

Robin didn’t respond immediately. She knew better than most how Crocodile’s mind worked—how he viewed the world like a chessboard, every person a piece to be played. And yet, there was something different here, something unspoken in the way his expression hardened as he spoke.

“You’re thinking about what she said,” Robin said softly, her tone more knowing than questioning.

Crocodile didn’t look at her. He didn’t have to.

The words echoed again: “Is this… what you wanted?”

He had been called many things in his life—tyrant, pirate, monster. He didn’t care. He had built his empire through blood, ambition, and sheer will, and he owed nothing to anyone.

But those words… they had struck something he hadn’t expected.

Because in that moment, as he had stood behind her—her body trembling, her voice breaking—he had felt a flicker of disgust. Not toward her, but toward the scene unfolding before him. The guards, the spectators, the ceremony itself—it all seemed small, like a pathetic imitation of power.

And she, with her trembling voice and silent tears, had stood stronger than any of them.

“She’ll fight back,” Robin continued, breaking the silence. “Even if she doesn’t know how yet.”

Crocodile chuckled again, the sound low and gravelly. “Good.”

Robin regarded him carefully. “You plan to use her, then?”

Crocodile’s smirk returned faintly, though his gaze remained fixed on the fire. “Everyone’s useful, Robin. You know that.”

“And if she’s more than you bargained for?” Robin pressed, though there was no mockery in her tone—only curiosity.

Crocodile finally turned to look at her, his golden hook gleaming as he shifted slightly in his seat. “Then I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I?”

Robin said nothing more. She tilted her head in acknowledgment before stepping back into the shadows, her figure disappearing into the dark as silently as it had come.

Crocodile turned back to the fire, his fingers brushing absently against the edge of his glass as he stared into the flames.

Her voice whispered in his mind again—shaky, trembling, yet filled with fire all the same.

“Is this… what you wanted?”

For the first time in years, Crocodile found himself without an answer.

And that, he thought with a flicker of irritation, made her far more dangerous than she looked.

But.

Eventually.

Rainbase was alive in the dimming light of evening, its streets teeming with life. The desert city never truly slept—too much money flowed through its veins for silence to linger long. Merchants hawked their wares beneath colorful awnings, gamblers crowded around makeshift tables in open alleys, and mercenaries loitered in dark corners, their hands never straying far from their blades. Laughter, curses, and the clink of coin carried through the air like a constant hum, weaving together a city that thrived on shadows and secrets.

And tonight, Dracule Mihawk moved silently among them.

The greatest swordsman in the world, the man feared as Hawk Eyes, walked with quiet ease through Rainbase’s crowded streets. His heavy black coat, wide-brimmed hat, and massive cross-shaped sword strapped to his back should have made him stand out, yet no one seemed to truly see him. Mihawk had a way of blending in when he wished—his presence deliberate and calculated, like a predator camouflaging itself in the brush.

His golden eyes, sharp and unrelenting, scanned the crowd as he moved. Merchants, beggars, mercenaries—each face was cataloged and dismissed in an instant. Mihawk wasn’t here for them. He was here to gather information. To watch. To listen.

The rumors were easy to find. People in Rainbase talked, though rarely with trust or care. There were whispers about Crocodile—Sir Crocodile, as they called him—and his rule over Alabasta. His influence stretched far beyond Rainbase, but it was here, in his city, that his power pulsed strongest.

Mihawk’s steps carried him toward a crowded bazaar at the city’s center, where voices shouted over one another in competition. Torchlight burned bright, illuminating stalls draped in fine silks, glittering jewelry, and exotic trinkets. Mihawk moved through the throng like a ghost, his presence unnoticed as he wove between groups of people.

He stopped near a gathering of men huddled beside a shaded stall, their voices low but animated. They were rough-looking—mercenaries, by the look of their worn armor and the weapons strapped haphazardly to their backs. Mihawk paused at the edge of their circle, pretending to examine a table of knives and trinkets, his ears trained on their conversation.

“You hear about the girl?” one of the men murmured, his voice gravelly.

“The Targaryen princess?” another replied, snorting softly. “Yeah. Crocodile brought her here—some marriage deal, they say.”

“Marriage? Hah!” the first man laughed bitterly. “If that’s true, then the poor thing’s got no idea what she’s in for. Crocodile doesn’t wed. He uses. She’ll be just another tool for his schemes.”

“Maybe,” the second man said, leaning closer. “But have you heard what she came with?”

The others shifted, their interest piqued. Mihawk’s sharp gaze flicked to the side, though he kept his head bowed, his expression hidden by the brim of his hat.

“What?” the first man asked.

The second man lowered his voice further, his tone conspiratorial. “Dragon eggs. Three of them. That’s what they say. Last ones in the world, smuggled in just for her.”

The group fell silent for a moment, the weight of the claim settling over them.

“Bullshit,” one of them muttered finally, though his voice lacked conviction. “Dragons are gone. Long gone.”

“That’s what everyone says,” the second man shot back. “But people who’ve been inside the fortress saw them—large as a man’s head, gleaming like they’re alive. Crocodile’s keeping them close.”

“What for?”

“Who knows?” The man shrugged. “Leverage? Power? You think he cares about the girl? He cares about those eggs.”

Mihawk’s fingers brushed over the edge of a blade on the table, his mind sharpening like the steel beneath his touch. Dragon eggs.

He had heard many legends in his life—tales of ancient creatures and forgotten kings. The dragons of the Targaryens had always been myth to him, distant as fairy tales told to children. Yet now, here in Alabasta, whispers of eggs came like echoes of something ancient. And Crocodile, ever the opportunist, had tied himself to it.

Mihawk didn’t believe in coincidences.

He moved away from the stall quietly, his boots soft against the stone streets as he let the crowd swallow him once more. The guards who patrolled Rainbase paid him no mind, their focus trained on the city’s more obvious troublemakers.

Mihawk’s gaze, however, remained sharp as he made his way toward the fortress that loomed in the distance. From here, he could see its jagged spires silhouetted against the desert sky, a dark wound in the golden horizon.

The girl is there, Mihawk thought, his steps measured and deliberate.

Crocodile had plans—of that, Mihawk had no doubt. But the girl—this Targaryen princess—was more than a pawn in this game. Mihawk could sense it, like the faintest tremor in the earth before a quake. The whispers of her fire, her tears, her silence—all of it intrigued him in a way he couldn’t yet explain.

And if dragon eggs were involved, the stakes were far greater than anyone realized.

As Mihawk approached the gates of the fortress, the guards on either side tensed slightly, their hands twitching toward their weapons. Mihawk’s presence, though quiet, carried a weight that unsettled lesser men.

“State your business,” one of the guards demanded, his voice rough and firm.

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes glinting faintly beneath the shadow of his hat. “I’ve come to see Crocodile,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

The guard exchanged an uneasy glance with his partner, clearly uncertain. “Sir Crocodile doesn’t see uninvited guests.”

“Then tell him Dracule Mihawk wishes to speak,” Mihawk replied evenly, his tone carrying the kind of finality that left no room for argument.

The guards froze, the name sinking into them like a stone. One of them swallowed visibly before nodding, motioning for Mihawk to follow. “Wait here. I’ll inform him.”

Mihawk said nothing, stepping back slightly to lean against the stone wall of the gate. His hand rested casually on the hilt of Yoru—the massive black sword strapped across his back—as he let his gaze drift toward the fortress once more.

Inside those walls lay answers—about Crocodile, about the Targaryen girl, and about the game that had only just begun.

For now, Mihawk would wait.

And when the time came, he would find the truth, no matter what shadows it lay hidden in.

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Y/n.

Poor Y/n.

The silence in her chambers was deafening, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind outside and the faint crackle of the low-burning lamps. The room was dim, bathed in shadows that crawled along the stone walls, the faint light unable to chase them away. The fire in the hearth had long since died to embers, and the air held a coolness that did little to ease the tightness in Y/N's chest.

She sat on the edge of the ornate bed, her body curled into itself, knees drawn up as though she could make herself smaller—less noticeable. Her cheeks were stained with tears that had dried sometime in the night, leaving thin, salty trails that burned faintly against her skin. Her eyes were puffy, red-rimmed, but dry now, staring at the nothingness before her.

Humiliation lingered over her like a shroud, suffocating and cruel. The memory of the ceremony haunted her—every touch, every sound, every pair of unseen eyes watching her. Crocodile’s hands loosening the silk ties of her robe, the mocking laughter of the guards as they took in her form, the shame that had gripped her tighter than a vice.

Her brother’s words echoed in her mind, venomous and sharp as daggers. “You are nothing but a pawn, Y/N. Silent, obedient, as a wife should be.”

Silent, she thought bitterly, staring at the hands curled tightly in her lap. And broken.

And yet…

Her gaze lifted, falling on the three dragon eggs that sat on a small table before the window. The faint light of the rising sun filtered through the glass, illuminating them softly, casting their colors in shades of gold and crimson.

The eggs called to her.

She didn’t know how else to describe it. Even now, as she sat in her grief and shame, they felt alive—as though they pulsed with something ancient and fierce.

Slowly, Y/N pushed herself off the bed, her movements stiff and clumsy as she walked toward the table. Her bare feet were silent against the cold stone floor, her robe hanging loosely around her shoulders. She stopped before the eggs, her breath catching as she looked down at them.

The red egg.

Her eyes were drawn to it—deep crimson, like blood and fire. Its surface shimmered faintly in the light, textured with fine scales that seemed to shift when she moved. She could feel it, even from here—a warmth, faint but steady, like a heartbeat waiting to be awakened.

Y/N reached out with trembling hands, her fingertips grazing the surface of the egg.

It was warm.

Warm, and… alive.

Her pulse quickened as she cupped the egg gently, lifting it into her hands. Its weight was solid but not overwhelming, as though it were meant to be held. She held it close to her chest, her thumbs brushing along the smooth ridges of its scales.

The pulsing heartbeat grew stronger. She could feel it through her fingertips, steady and certain, as though the egg itself recognized her.

“Your Grace!”

The sudden voice startled her, breaking the moment. One of Crocodile’s maids—a woman with sharp features and dark eyes—stood in the doorway, her face contorted in shock and concern.

The maid rushed toward her, her slippers barely making a sound against the floor. “Your Grace! Be careful!” she said hurriedly, her voice rising slightly as she reached for the egg.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quietly, though the words came out uncertain and dazed.

The maid didn’t listen. She reached out to take the egg from Y/N’s hands, her expression a mix of fear and desperation. “You’ll burn yourself! Let me—”

Her hands closed around the egg, and a sharp hiss escaped her lips as her fingers made contact.

The maid dropped the egg immediately, her hands jerking back as though she’d touched a live coal. The egg landed softly in Y/N’s arms again, perfectly cradled, as though it had never left.

The maid stumbled back, cradling her burned fingers, her face pale with shock. “It burns!” she gasped, her voice trembling. “It’s hot as fire!”

Y/N stared at her, uncomprehending at first. Slowly, she looked down at the egg still nestled in her arms. She turned her hands over, palms up, studying them carefully.

Her skin was unmarked.

Not even red.

The maid gawked at her, her expression flickering between awe and fear. She stepped forward hesitantly, her burned fingers still trembling. “Your hands…,” she whispered. “Your Grace, your hands are untouched.”

Y/N looked up at her then, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came.

The maid’s dark eyes darted between Y/N and the egg, the shock in her gaze now mingling with something that resembled reverence—or perhaps fear. “What are you?” she whispered, though the words were not meant to be cruel.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the egg, her mind whirling. She could still feel its pulse, its warmth. It didn’t burn her. It didn’t hurt her. Somehow, the egg accepted her.

And she accepted it.

“I’m fine,” Y/N said softly, her voice steadying now. She stepped back, cradling the egg as though it were a living thing. “You don’t need to worry.”

The maid hesitated, her expression flickering with uncertainty before she bowed her head. “As you say, Your Grace.” She turned and hurried from the room, leaving Y/N alone once again.

Y/N moved toward the window, holding the egg close as she stared out at the horizon. The city of Rainbase sprawled before her, its dark towers and twisting streets a reminder of the power that kept her trapped here.

And yet, in her arms, she held something greater.

The last dragons in the world.

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the faint, steady heartbeat of the egg thrumming in her hands. For the first time in a long time, the fire she had buried deep within herself seemed to stir, like coals being fanned back to life.

Her brother had called her weak. The guards had laughed at her, mocked her body, her silence. Crocodile thought he could use her, mold her into a pawn to serve his ambitions.

But they were wrong.

The egg’s warmth spread through her, filling her veins with something fierce and ancient.

Y/N opened her eyes, the faint glow of the rising sun reflecting in their depths as she stared out over the desert.

They thought they could break her. They thought they could use her.

But the fire was awake now.

And soon, the world would burn.

But.

With Mihawk's boots we then see, trotting in the halls of the fortress, the air within was thick and heavy, carrying a faint scent of smoke, incense, and desert stone baked under the relentless Alabastan sun. The guards at the gate had finally relented, though not without visible hesitation. Mihawk’s reputation carried far beyond the seas of the Grand Line, and his presence here had unsettled even the most seasoned among Crocodile’s men.

The hallways of the fortress were long and shadowed, lit dimly by flickering wall sconces. Mihawk’s boots echoed softly against the smooth stone floor as he followed the guard who had been sent to escort him. The man was silent, his posture stiff and his movements brisk, though he couldn’t stop himself from glancing nervously over his shoulder now and then.

Mihawk paid him little mind, his golden eyes sweeping over his surroundings with the quiet precision of a predator surveying its prey. The fortress was as he expected—imposing, cold, designed more for intimidation than comfort. Every corner spoke of power, not hospitality.

As they approached the central chamber, the faint murmur of voices reached Mihawk’s ears, low and distant at first, then growing more distinct as they neared a set of heavy double doors. The guard hesitated for a brief moment before pushing them open, the iron hinges groaning faintly in protest.

“Sir Crocodile,” the guard announced stiffly, bowing his head. “Dracule Mihawk is here to see you.”

The room beyond the doors was as grand as it was foreboding. The throne room of Rainbase was a cavernous space, its high ceilings lost in shadow. Tall braziers burned at intervals along the walls, their flames casting flickering light over the dark, polished stone floor.

At the far end of the room, seated upon his jagged sandstone throne, was Crocodile.

He lounged in his seat, his posture relaxed but radiating power, one leg crossed over the other as he swirled a glass of dark liquor in his gloved hand. The ever-present cigar hung lazily from his lips, a thin curl of smoke rising above him and disappearing into the shadows above. His golden hook rested against the armrest of his throne, gleaming faintly in the firelight.

Crocodile’s single visible eye turned toward the doors as Mihawk entered, his expression unreadable, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Dracule Mihawk,” Crocodile said smoothly, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mihawk stepped forward with deliberate ease, his movements unhurried but purposeful. His coat swept behind him like a shadow, and the massive black blade strapped to his back caught the firelight as he came to a stop several paces from the throne.

“You should know why I’m here, Crocodile,” Mihawk replied, his voice low and calm, yet carrying the unmistakable weight of authority.

Crocodile’s smirk deepened slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin against his gloved hand. “I can think of several reasons, Mihawk. Enlighten me.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes narrowed faintly, though his expression remained composed. “The Targaryen girl,” he said simply. “And the dragon eggs.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, the crackle of the braziers the only sound. Crocodile’s smirk didn’t falter, though his eye glinted with something sharp and dangerous.

“Ah,” he said softly, drawing out the word as though savoring it. “So you’ve heard the whispers already. News travels fast, it seems.”

Mihawk didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed unflinchingly on Crocodile. “Whispers have a way of finding me,” he said finally, his tone unbothered. “And when I hear something worth my attention, I act.”

Crocodile chuckled lowly, leaning back in his throne. “And I take it you’re here to see if the rumors are true.”

Mihawk’s lips twitched faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Something like that.”

Crocodile exhaled a slow stream of smoke, the thin curl rising between them like a barrier. “You’ve come a long way for answers, Mihawk. I wonder… what do you plan to do if you don’t like what you find?”

Mihawk tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes glinting in the firelight. “That depends on what I find.”

The tension between the two men was palpable, the air between them charged with unspoken challenge. Crocodile’s smirk didn’t falter, though his gaze sharpened as he regarded Mihawk carefully.

“You’re not the type to meddle in other people’s affairs without reason,” Crocodile said finally, his tone thoughtful. “So tell me, Mihawk—what’s your stake in this?”

Mihawk was silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering. “Let’s just say I dislike uncertainty,” he replied evenly. “And you’ve created quite a stir.”

Crocodile’s chuckle was low and rumbling, though there was no true humor in it. “Fair enough,” he said, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the armrest. “If it’s answers you want, then ask your questions. I have nothing to hide.”

Mihawk’s gaze flicked briefly around the room, taking in the shadows, the flickering flames, the faint movement of the guards stationed along the walls. Then his eyes returned to Crocodile, sharp and unrelenting.

“The girl,” Mihawk said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Why her?”

Crocodile’s smirk returned, faint and calculating. “Ah, the princess,” he said softly, the word dripping with mockery. “She’s useful. Her bloodline, her name—it carries weight. That’s what men like her brother believe, anyway.”

“And you?” Mihawk pressed. “What do you believe?”

Crocodile leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Mihawk with a faintly amused expression. “I believe she’s more than what she seems,” he said simply. “And that’s all you need to know.”

Mihawk’s gaze narrowed slightly, though he said nothing.

“As for the dragon eggs,” Crocodile continued, his tone turning cooler, “I assume you’ve heard the stories. Ancient relics, last of their kind, powerful symbols of a forgotten age.” He shrugged faintly, the motion almost casual. “Whether they’re real or not… doesn’t matter. They serve a purpose.”

Mihawk’s lips pressed into a thin line, his thoughts churning behind his sharp eyes. Crocodile’s words, while vague, carried enough truth to set his mind further on edge. This wasn’t just about power or prestige. There was something deeper at play, and Crocodile, ever the opportunist, had his sights set on it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Crocodile,” Mihawk said quietly, his voice edged with warning.

Crocodile chuckled again, leaning back in his throne with a dismissive wave of his golden hook. “Life is a dangerous game, Mihawk. But I think you, of all people, already know that.”

The two men stared at each other for a long moment, the tension between them crackling like the flames that burned around them.

Finally, Mihawk turned, his coat sweeping behind him as he began to walk toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said without looking back.

Crocodile’s smirk widened faintly as he watched Mihawk began leave, his voice low and amused. “It never is.”

BUT.

Mihawk’s boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he strode toward the exit, his mind already turning over the conversation with Crocodile. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, though the picture remained incomplete. His sharp instincts told him there was more—something Crocodile wasn’t saying, something he had yet to see.

Then he heard it.

Soft steps—bare feet pattering faintly against the cold marble floor. The sound was a whisper in the grand silence of the chamber, out of place and entirely unexpected. Mihawk’s steps slowed. He paused just before the heavy double doors, his golden eyes narrowing faintly as the quiet footsteps drew closer.

He turned his head, ever so slightly, and saw her.

Y/N entered the chamber like a shadowed figure from a dream, her presence soft but undeniable as she moved toward Crocodile’s throne. She wore a flowing robe—fine fabric that still managed to cling awkwardly at her sides, its fit imperfect as though chosen for formality rather than her comfort. The hem swept along the floor as she walked, her bare feet silent, her shoulders straight despite the obvious weight pressing upon her.

Mihawk's golden gaze swept over her once, measured and deliberate. She was not what he had expected—not at all.

Her frame was fuller, her form soft where others might be carved of stone, yet there was something undeniably regal about the way she moved, as though she were stubbornly carrying a burden far heavier than her own weight. Her beauty was not conventional by the standards of a cruel, judgmental world, but it was there nonetheless—deep and unapologetic, rooted in the way her face remained composed even when shadowed by exhaustion.

Tear stains marked faint trails down her cheeks, though her face was carefully blank, her expression as unreadable as the desert sands. There was no fire in her eyes, not now—not like Mihawk had imagined. Instead, there was a kind of quiet determination, the embers of something yet to awaken.

She passed him without sparing him a glance, completely unaware of who he was, of what name he carried. Mihawk, for his part, said nothing—he simply watched.

Y/N approached the throne where Crocodile sat, his form a shadow of power and leisure. She walked directly to the smaller seat that had been placed just beside his—her throne, though it felt more like a mark of submission than of sovereignty.

Without hesitation, she sat.

Crocodile’s gaze flicked toward her as she settled into her chair, though his expression remained one of faint amusement, as if seeing her enter had only deepened his curiosity. The cigar burned faintly between his fingers, its smoke curling lazily through the air.

“You’re late,” he muttered, though his tone lacked bite.

Y/N said nothing, keeping her gaze forward, her back straight despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She did not look at him, nor did she look at the powerful stranger she had unknowingly passed.

Crocodile’s smirk deepened faintly, the gleam of his golden hook catching the firelight as he tilted his head. “Silent again? You make me wonder what’s happening in that head of yours.”

Still, Y/N didn’t respond. She only folded her hands in her lap, her fingers curling against the fabric of her robe.

Mihawk, still standing at the edge of the room, watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. He had seen countless queens, princesses, and pawns in his lifetime—women who were given seats of power but rarely the freedom to wield it. This one, however, intrigued him.

The silence surrounding her was deliberate, not weak. It was a wall, built brick by brick, though Mihawk doubted it was one of her own making. Silent. Submissive. He recognized the signs of someone who had been shaped, molded by others’ expectations, yet who had not yet been broken.

Not yet, he thought, his golden eyes narrowing faintly.

He turned his gaze back to Crocodile, who seemed almost amused by Y/N’s presence. For a moment, Mihawk considered speaking, but he decided against it. Whatever this woman was to Crocodile, she was important enough to share his space—to sit beside him in this throne room where few dared to stand.

And that alone told Mihawk all he needed to know:

She was at the center of this storm.

And storms had a way of revealing the truth.

“Is this your queen, Crocodile?” Mihawk finally said, his voice low, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Y/N froze.

The words startled her, dragging her attention toward the source of the voice she hadn’t noticed before. She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on Mihawk for the first time.

Her breath caught faintly.

He stood like a living shadow, his tall figure framed by the torchlight. The wide brim of his hat cast his face in partial shadow, but she could see the glint of his golden eyes—sharp and piercing, like a predator’s gaze locking onto prey. His coat swept down to his boots, dark and elegant, while the massive black sword strapped to his back gave him a weight of undeniable authority.

There was no mistaking it: this man was dangerous.

Crocodile chuckled softly at Mihawk’s words, exhaling a thin curl of smoke as he regarded the swordsman. “A queen?” he echoed, amusement threading through his voice. He tilted his head slightly, glancing at Y/N, who sat frozen beside him. “She’ll have to earn that title, don’t you think?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened faintly, though she said nothing. Her hands curled tighter in her lap, her gaze flicking between Crocodile and Mihawk, unsure of what game was being played before her.

Mihawk watched her for a moment longer, his sharp eyes studying her with unnerving focus, though he said nothing else. Instead, he turned back toward Crocodile, his voice calm once more.

“You’re collecting interesting pieces for your board, Crocodile,” Mihawk said. “Be careful they don’t move on their own.”

Crocodile’s smirk widened, the scar along his face twisting faintly as he regarded Mihawk. “If they do, I’ll remind them whose board it is.”

The unspoken challenge hung in the air between them like a blade suspended by a thread.

Y/N sat perfectly still, her mind reeling, though her face remained carefully blank. Whoever this man was, he was no mere visitor. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent clash of wills between two forces she could barely begin to comprehend.

The stranger—Mihawk, she realized as the name finally struck her—turned slightly, giving her one last look before he moved toward the door. His golden eyes lingered on her for a beat too long, as though seeing something in her that she couldn’t yet understand herself.

Then he was gone, his boots clicking softly against the stone as the heavy doors closed behind him.

Y/N let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her gaze drifting forward once more.

Crocodile leaned back into his throne, swirling his glass of whiskey idly as he regarded her. “He’s not someone you want to cross,” he said casually, though his tone carried an edge.

“Who is he?” Y/N asked quietly, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest.

Crocodile’s smirk returned faintly as he glanced toward the door where Mihawk had disappeared. “Dracule Mihawk,” he said simply. “The greatest swordsman in the world.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

The world around her seemed to shrink as the realization sank in. She had just walked past one of the most dangerous men in existence, completely unaware.

And yet, when he had looked at her, there had been no cruelty—no laughter. Only curiosity.

The storm swirling around her was growing darker, deeper, and she knew then that whatever path lay ahead would be carved by fire, steel, and blood.

And there would be no turning back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MERRY X-MAS EVERYTHONE!!!! Here is some chapters today that I've worked on!!!!! :-) I hope you enjoy and have a great holiday! A master list will be added by the end of the week!

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eriyu · 9 months ago

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Ehryu Raav

B A S I C S

Name: Ehryu Raav (don't mind that all the paperwork spells it "Ehriyu") Nicknames: Yu (to her family only) Age: 26 (at the beginning of ARR) Nameday: First Sun of the Second Umbral Moon Race: Keeper of the Moon Meracydian Miqo'te Gender: Female Orientation: Bisexual, greyromantic Profession: Adventurer :)

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Bubblegum pink, 2A, medium-long Eyes: Right: light blue. Left: light purple, pinker after rejoining with Ardbert Skin: Medium-light grey Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, miscellaneous scars (a couple from Endwalker, the rest from when she was younger and half her friends weren't absurdly accomplished healers)

F A M I L Y

Parents: Kinoh and Tavh'li :) Siblings: She's the oldest of five! There's Dyaala (1 year younger), Yuhl (6 years younger), Mhet (7 years younger), and Kinoh'a (10 years younger = the twins' age). Grandparents: ...around, I'm sure... I have vague ideas of a large extended family, but they're staying vague until I know more about her home. In-laws and Other: She's adopted the twins as additional little brother and sister if that counts. Pets: Her family had miscellaneous creatures around when she was little, but none of particular note. I don't think chocobos are considered pets.

S K I L L S

Abilities: The big (obvious) ones are fighting, singing, playing instruments, and dancing. Is "inspiring people" an ability? Beyond that she's a jack of all trades — loves picking up every skill she can, but doesn't usually dedicate enough time to them to become a master. Hobbies: Again, everything she can get her hands on, at least briefly. It's a bit difficult to categorize things separately as "hobbies"... like she doesn't really put aside time to do certain activities; she just starts going in a direction and keeps going until she stops lmao.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Selflessness :) (alternatively, unflagging optimism) Worst Negative: Selflessness (: (alternatively, failure to think things through)

L I K E S

Colors: Years ago, Yuhl told her that purple was "her color" and she ran with it, but honestly she loves all sorts of bright colors. Hot pink and yellow are up there. Smells: Grass, and rain. Streets full of different kinds of restaurants. Fresh laundry. Textures: Silk. Grass again. Marble. Not a whole lot that she dislikes, though. Drinks: Water with lemon or mint. Anything she's never had before. Whiskey.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Nah, zero interest in it. Especially since she values her voice so much. Drinks: Socially. She'll enjoy getting completely trashed on special occasions when she's quite certain the end of the world isn't nigh. Drugs: Anything with significant health effects is off the table immediately, but she could be tempted to try anything that's fairly harmless by a friend. It's also possible that she and Thancred got super fucking high on their first trip to the Great Work due to a slight miscommunication about dosage differences between Arkasodara and smaller races... Mount Issuance: Her black chocobo and Argos are canon. Other MSQ-relevant ones like Maggie and the Yol are still around but probably not really "on call." Everything else is nebulous. Realistically does she own a flying car? Probably not. Can I still say she loves blasting the stereo on the Regalia? I sure can!!! Been Arrested: If she managed to avoid it from the bloody banquet all through Heavensward, I'm gonna say she's avoided it everywhere else too.

Tagged by: Nobody, I stole it from a long-dead blog :)

Tagging: @gatheredfates @lilbittymonster @tallbluelady @starrysnowdrop @calico-heart @nhaneh @wildstar25

#digging this out of my drafts #idk how many people i'm supposed to tag #i always encourage anybody else who sees these posts to steal them from me and tag me tho #ff #ffxiv #ehriyu #ew #tag memes

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malfoyscoffee · 10 months ago

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theodore nott ᯓᡣ𐭩 academic rivals to lovers

“ten points to slytherin.”

you smirked and held your head high, proud that professor slughorn had just gifted your house with points.

your eyes quickly went to the brunet who huffed and placed his arm down, not getting chosen to answer the question.

a tug hit your side, “(y/n), when will you admit that you fancy theo?”

pansy chuckled as you glared at her, rolling your eyes and diverting your attention to continue taking notes. “pansy, he is my biggest enemy. we have been competing against everything since first year. why in the bloody hell would you think i fancy that arse?”

ever since your first class in hogwarts, theodore nott has grown as your only rival. you both always fought to see who would answer the professor’s questions, who would receive the higher mark on exams, and who would be at the top of all classes.

even with the same slytherin friend group, everyone got used to the competitive nature that the two of you shared—non-slytherin students, professors, and maybe even headmaster dumbledore knew.

you started scribbling more words down while pansy shrugged her shoulders, “maybe because he’s all you ever talk about?” you stopped the quill you were using, glancing over at the boy sitting a few rows away.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“miss (y/l/n), since you’re distracted with miss parkinson, would you like to come up and smell this potion?”

suddenly your confidence shrunk as the entire classroom silently watched you. slowly you ascended from your seat, heading to the front. there was snickering from your slytherin friends—especially theodore.

professor slughorn pointed towards the cauldron next to him, signaling you to smell the potion.

you stepped impossibly close, taking a sniff of the smell. “i smell fresh mint and sweet fire whiskey.”

you take a step back and beam before looking straight at pansy, except she holds a horrified look. all your classmates silently watched you in horror and their mouths open.

professor slughorn coughed once next to you, “thank you miss (y/l/n), you may now go back to your seat.”

confusion filled your face as you walked back to your seat.

“that, class, was the power of amortentia.“

you stood clutching your black and green robes in fists, realizing why everyone was still staring at you.

“it smells different to each person according to what they find attractive. now this potion..”

you couldn’t believe what you had just heard, more importantly, you knew whose scent you smelled from the potion.

you turned around, ignoring the specific pair of eyes lingering on you, rushing to leave the classroom as fast as your legs could take you.

you could explain to professor slughorn tomorrow that you felt like vomiting, so you had to run outside.

it was only a five-minute distance from the classroom to your dorm. technically, you could skip dinner later and ask pansy to bring you food, so you wouldn’t have to see theodo-

“(y/n)! wait!”

no. this cannot be happening.

you stopped in your tracks, slowly looking behind you.

theodore was running from the same direction you came from, catching up to you at a desperate pace.

“what nott? i don’t feel like arguing with you right now. not after.. that.” you hope he’s slow to realize that you smelled him in your amortentia.

“listen,” theodore caught up to you, standing in front of you now, “i know you smelled me in your amortentia just now.”

you groaned, “it’s not true. it can’t be. we hate each other.” you motioned between the two of you. “let’s just forget all this happened to save me from some humiliation.”

you turned to continue your journey back to your dorm when a hand grabbed your arm.

“no, listen to me.” theodore sounded sincere, his usual playful personality gone. “are you really that daft?”

you stared at the boy annoyed, “me? i’m as smart as you. we’re on top of our class, how would i be daft?”

“salazar, you’re in denial. you’re going to make me spell it out for you?”

annoyance was taking over you, shrugging your arm off of theodore’s grip. “if you don’t want to elaborate, i’ll be on my way.” you sighed and continued to walk down the empty corridors.

“(y/n)!”

you don’t even turn around to the boy. “piss off, nott.”

“i fancy you.”

you made about ten steps away from theodore before you froze. did you just hear him correctly?

theodore continued, “i’ve fancied you since first year when we first met, i’ve competed against you in every class to get your attention, but now i think we should start over?”

your eyes widen and search for any signs of insincerity while he stands, waiting for your response. letting out a breath, you take a few steps back towards him.

“i’d like that.”

“by the way, i smelled you in my amortentia last year.”

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theshelbyclan · 4 years ago

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Love Language

Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.

(Gif by @nofckingfighting)

A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you're writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448

***

“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.” “I know.”

***

There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.

“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.

“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”

***

You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.

“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.

***

“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”

*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.

“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.

He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.

***

“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***

You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.

Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.

***

“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.

So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”

Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”

*** Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #the shelby clan #love language

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summerofsnowflakes · 3 years ago

Text

Show Me Who's the Sheriff of this Town

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: 18+ MDI, this contains smut. Fingering, pet names, oral (m receiving) public sex, restraints, cuts and bruises, power dynamics, overstimulation and an unspecified age gap,

Summary: You couldn't have been more different; like chalk and cheese, peace and war, the Sheriff and the free spirit. You weren't meant to work, and somehow you did.

A/n: This is my first time writing for good ol' Sheriff Daddy and I'm excited. I had a lot of fun with these two characters!

Gif by @unearthlydust and Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Lee never could’ve prepared for the moment your bright light shone over his darkness, he never saw you coming. He couldn’t understand what’d brought you to Knockemstiff, even if you were just passing through, you didn’t belong here.

It was hardly a place for drifters, the devout church folks and matriarchal gossips made most newcomers extremely unwelcome. After all, everyone in this shithole town was related to one another in one way or another. If you weren’t, you’d always be treated differently, didn’t matter how hard you tried to fit in, the townsfolk saw you as an outsider.

He waltzed into Tecumseh just as the sun was setting over the horizon. The door swung shut behind him with a painful creak, his boots made heavy thuds against the alcohol soaked floor.

He was almost six hours later than he’d intended to be, he’d agreed yesterday to meet Sandy to drive her home after her shift. She was nowhere in sight, the tired looking, barmaid - Stacey, maybe - mentioned she hitched a ride from someone a few hours back. He noted the sour tone directed at him as she spoke, as if he had any control over the criminal activity in his county.

He felt bad, should’ve called or had one of those boys from the station drive her home. But the precinct had gone into mayhem just as he was supposed to clock off, and there was no way he could leave that shit show to be dealt with by his deputy.

He was somewhat relieved that she wasn’t here anymore, he didn’t fancy facing her while she worked an extra shift in the back to make some more money. She’d promised she was done with that, but he wasn't so sure, there were still rumblings of her selling herself making its way round the rumour mill. He really needed to squash that completely.

He ordered a whiskey from Stacey and sat at one of the creaking bar stools with a huff. The dark brown liquor was handed to him in a dirty looking tumbler, the glass chipped and cracked in multiple places.

God this place was a shithole.

He surveyed the room, just as the evening crowd began to pick up. A few regulars spilled in, fresh out of their dead end jobs. Some of the usual suspects surrounded him, hugging the rotting, termite infested bar.

No one of value to society ever turned up in this bar, which is why you stood out to him. Over in the corner of the bar, there you were bent over the pool table, your booty shorts riding up sinfully high. The globes of your ass on full display to anyone who wanted a look, and boy did he want to look.

Young, wild and free. The description fit you perfectly, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Your melodic laugh carried across the room, pulling half cut drunkards from their stupor, only to lull them peacefully back into oblivion.

He saw through your game immediately, watched the way you wiggled your hips perfectly hypnotising the poor souls you were swindling money out of. The perfectly innocent - butter wouldn’t melt kind of smile that paid for all your drinks.

And all you had to provide in exchange was a few images for them to hold on to when they returned home to their sad lives, where their right hand was their only form of comfort.

How did Lee know all of this? Well because he was one of those fools you’d captured under your spell.

You noticed his presence as soon as he stepped into the bar, the air of authority was unmissable.

The heavy thud of his footsteps sang like a man who was overworked, underpaid and completely exhausted.

And yet, he carried himself like he owned the place, like he owned the whole town. It made your mouth water. The jangle of his keys carried across the room, the noise made your thighs clench involuntarily.

You had no real plans at the moment, you were on your way to Cincinnati but you weren’t due to meet up with your friends until the end of the month. Having said that, stopping in this little purgatory in the back end of nowhere wasn’t exactly an ideal scenario. Not that it was your choice, your car broke down when you’d stopped for gas and you were stuck here until it could get fixed.

You knew a town like this had nothing to offer, the church was probably the biggest landmark they had. So you thought you may as well have some fun at the only bar, before the church ladies came after you with their pitchforks. At least you could make a little extra money to live off for the next few months.

That was the plan at least, until the Sheriff walked into the bar and your plans rewrote themselves entirely. He looked quite young for a man of his title, no real wrinkles and a full head of dark brown hair. Other Sheriff’s you’d encountered before were a lot older than this one but that’d never stopped you from going after them before.

You were free spirited by nature, destined to roam the free land and enjoy your youth before it slipped away, but you’d always been drawn to men of authority.

There was a certain power that men like him wielded that made your panties damped and they always knew how to make you feel good.

Yes, this Sheriff was exactly your type.

You knew he’d be able to sniff out newcomers in his town, but that didn't stop you from putting on a show for him. In fact, you made it your mission to stand out in the dullness of this bar.

You giggled a little bit louder, swayed your hips with more vigour and stretched over the pool table more than necessary. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, you just hoped you’d done enough to bewitch him.

You took your winnings from the last of the intoxicated bums and turned towards him, leaning against the pool table for support and you sought out his lust filled eyes. He’d not looked away from you once during your game, subtlety was clearly not his thing. It wasn’t yours either.

You smiled sweetly at him as though you shared a secret with each other and revelled in the way his eyes widened, a tinge of panic evident by the blush spreading across his cheeks. He averted his gaze, focusing on swirling the dribbles of whiskey that coated the bottom of his glass.

You pushed yourself off the pool table, singing a soft goodbye to the sad saps that were hoping to take you home with them and sauntered over to him. You pulled up the bar stool beside him, the tension radiating off his body was palpable, but you were going to cut through it.

“Howdy!” You sang, turning to face him, you stretched out your hand.

He took your soft hand in his slightly clammy one and shook it timidly. A small hint of admiration spread across his lips, “not from round here, are ya darlin’?”

You giggled softly, allowing your hand to linger in his touch a second too long before reluctantly pulling away. “What gave me away?”

“We don’t say howdy, here in Ohio.” His pale blue eyes scanned your face. Despite the welcoming, craving smile he offered you, on his face, you could see the distrust in his eyes.

“Silly me,” You muttered, biting your lip slowly, watching the way his eyes flickered down to your lips involuntarily. “So Sheriff, would you like a drink?”

“Ain’t that s'posed to be my line?”

“Well yeah, maybe. But I did just earn a pretty penny playing pool, so I got a couple bucks to spare and I’d like to treat ya real nice.” You giggled as Lee raised a questioning eyebrow at you.

You didn’t wait for him to respond, leaning over the bar, you ordered two drinks and paid the barmaid. He relaxed against the back of the stool, watching your shorts ride up your ass again and licked his lips deliciously at the sight.

He was awestruck by you, impressed by your innate confidence and at the same time, so confused. He wasn’t used to women being so forward, normally he wouldn’t care for it, but beautiful little you had swayed his opinions. He had no idea why you’d chosen him, but he intended to savour every moment of time you were willing to waste on him.

You handed him a fresh glass of whiskey and raised your glass, clinking the glass. “To new friends.”

He took a gulp of the brown liquor, enjoying the way it burned down his throat and set fire to his stomach. “So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in my town?”

Although your sweet smile never wavered, he made your head spin with his words. The subtle way he asserted his dominance over the town, made your thighs squeeze together. “Well I was on my way to Cinci, meeting a few friends but my car broke down. So now I’m stuck here for a few days.”

“Lucky me.” He smirked, eyes raking over your curves. You could see the potential hidden under the tired exterior, you just needed to draw it out of him. Returning his smirk, you followed his eyes down your body as he undressed you mentally.

“Lucky you indeed,” you shuffled to the edge of your chair, brushing your bare leg against his carefully. “So Sheriff, tell me what Knockemstiff has to offer.”

He laughed loudly, head dropping down lethargically as if you’d just told the funniest joke. “Absolutely nuthin’, you got yourself stuck in the worst place in America darlin’.”

“See now I know you’re lying Sheriff.” You eyed him suspiciously, sipping on your lukewarm whiskey.

“And why's that?”

“Because you’re here in this town, I’d say you’ve got plenty to offer.” Your fingertips danced over the rim of your glass.

“Don’t know what you’re talking bout darlin’, I’m nuthin’ special.” Lee grumbled, hypnotised by your fingers.

You had him hanging off every movement, every word. His eyes followed your hand as it slipped below the bar and rested on his slacks. He froze under your touch, visibly flustered as your fingers inched up his thigh higher and higher.

You shifted closer to him, your mouth close to his ear and wet your dry lips. The sound was heavenly, Lee’s eyes fluttered close, his Adam's apple strained against his neck. “Think I could make you feel special, Sheriff,” you whispered quietly, only he could hear your words.

“I mean just imagine it,” you fingers brushed the crotch of his pants, he was rock hard under your touch. He coughed loudly to disguise the moan that caught in his throat. “I think I'd look so cute sitting on your lap, riding your cock.”

You gripped his length in your hands, enjoying how firm and wide it felt in your hand. He practically choked over your words, his jaw wound tight enough to cut glass, his cheeks bright red with frustration.

No woman had ever spoken to him with such confidence and it was incredibly sexy. He was dangerously close to cumming in his pants like a horny teenager, just from the way your hands brushed up against his cock.

But no, he wasn’t going to let that happen, he wanted you too badly to finish on such a disappointing note. As for you, you were practically offering yourself up to him on a platter. He was going to make sure you had the time of your life with him, a reason to think fondly of this shithole town when you left it in your rear view.

“You're a dangerous little thing.” He muttered, placing his hand over yours applying more pressure on his length.

You watched him licked his lips at the sight of both your hands touching his length. Slick painted your inner thighs in anticipation of what was hopefully to come.

“You got your cruiser parked outside?” You muttered slowly.

“Hmm,” he grunted wantonly, his hips thrusting into your hand. “You wanna go for a ride?” His voice broke deliciously as he tried to keep cool, painfully aware you were still in a public setting.

“I’d love nothing more, Sheriff.”

You managed to make it all the way to the cruiser before your excitement bubbled over. As he opened the passenger door for you, you stood dead still for a beat, nerves nipped at your fingertips.

You took him by total surprise when your fingers wrapped around his tie and pulled him down to kiss you. Electricity sparked between you as your lips met.

He kissed you hard, fervently and filled with a need that you weren’t expecting. Any control Lee was holding back dissipated as his hand wrapped around your waist and pressed you roughly against the backdoor.

As quickly as his force took over, his hesitation crept back in, his hands stuttered as they moved up your body, as though he was scared to touch you, something was holding him back.

You took his hand in yours and cupped your breasts, he softly kneaded the round flesh. He rutted his hips into yours, his hardness grinding into the material of your jean shorts. He cursed at himself quietly, you were making him act like a fucking teenager.

You pulled away from his lips completely breathless and smiled up at him. He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to yours once more, it was so different from the first kiss. Soft and tentative, although it made your head spin lustfully, it wasn’t what you wanted from him right now.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, Sheriff. I can take a little man handlin’.” You whispered sensually to him, as he rested his forehead to yours, your lips millimetres apart. “I can see the strength you're holding back, don’t hold back. Please…”

He kissed you once more, with the same sweetness, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more secluded.”

He planned on taking you back to his home, he wanted to show you the time of your life in the comfort of his bed; but you had other ideas.

You curled up beside him, nipping and licking at his neck while he drove, whispering dirty things into his ear. And when your hands skilfully brushed against his cock he was a goner.

Lee made it no more than five miles before he pulled off the main road, onto a dirt track and into a clearing surrounded by trees, dried mud and twigs crunched under his tires.

Lee spared you a hungry glance, raking his eyes over you, licking his plum lips, before exiting the car without a single word exchanged.

The door to the driver’s side slammed shut, the jolt of the car made your shoulders tense with anticipation. His heavy footsteps carried themselves around to your side and your door swung open carelessly.

“Step outta the car for me, Darlin’.” He grunted, gesturing for you to move.

You were hot with excitement, but the late night breeze had grown colder. The soft air left goosebumps on your skin as you got out. Your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of your top.

The tension between you was palpable, the surrounding woods were silent except for the low hum of the cricket choir.

Your lips parted slightly as though you had something to say, but his hungry gaze left you thoughtless. Slick formed in your panties, threatening to cover your inner thighs as you waited for him to speak.

“Strip. Now.” He ordered, eyes dark with lust.

There was no mistaking the dominance in his tone, the confidence he was displaying was enough to send you over the edge.

You shot him a playful smirk and pulled your top over your head. You revelled in the quiet gasp that fell from his lips as your breasts bounced freely with each movement you made.

You pulled the thin vest top over your head, your breasts bounced with your movements. He devoured every piece of your body that you dared to show him.

Your fingers hooked around the loops in your shorts and pulled them down at a teasingly slow pace, taking your panties down with them.

He clenched his jaw tightly as you stood completely bare before him, you were a vision. Your confidence never wavered, or did it?

Your features remained calm, collected, but Lee noticed the way your body trembled quietly under the weight of his gaze. He could use this moment to reassure you, to spill a million lovely notions into your ear, but you didn't want that, you’d been clear.

“Hold your hands out for me.” He stepped closer to you, as pulled out his handcuffs. The sharp sound of clinking metal met your ears and your knees almost gave out. He locked the cuffs around your wrists and spun you around.

He nudged his foot between yours and kicked your legs apart, his hands held your hips tightly to steady your body.

His hands ran along your body, feeling every part of you he could, humming approvingly at how wonderful you felt. He brought his hand down over your round ass cheek, chuckling at the soft whine that tumbled from your lips.

You pressed your ass back into his hand, signalling for more. “Little tease.” He muttered to himself he pressed his body against yours. The starchy cotton was rough against your back but the cool metal of his cruiser sent shockwaves through your body.

You hissed and squirmed at the cold that covered your body, but he held you firmly in place, his soft tummy pushing against the curve of your back, his hard length poking at your ass.

His nose brushed up along your neck, lips grazing the shell of your ear. His breath was deafening and warm, it intoxicated your mind.

“You like this huh? Being stripped down bare in front of me, bet that pussy is soaked.” He muttered, taking your earlobe between his teeth, he tugged at it roughly.

“You spend all night teasing men and get off on it like a little cock tease, just hoping the big ol’ Sheriff will come along and take care of ya, right?”

You whined achingly, gnawing at your bottom lip as you pushed your ass into his tented pants, his stiff cock resting between your ass cheeks.

Your response didn’t satisfy Lee in the slightest, his thick calloused fingers wrapped around your neck and he squeezed roughly. “I expect an answer when I ask a question, Darlin’. So either answer me, or I’ll leave you here cuffed and naked for someone else to find you.”

“‘M sorry Sheriff.” You gasped as his grip loosened around your neck. “I want you to take care of me, wanted you from the minute you walked into the bar.” You mewled pathetically.

His satisfied laugh rumbled in his chest, “atta girl.” He muttered, pushing your head against the window, he pulled your hips out.

He rubbed the rough pads of his fingers through your folds, pushing them slowly into your entrance. He stretched you out at an agonising pace, feeling every part of you. “God darlin’, you got the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt. Gonna have to get you ready for me.”

His fingers teased at the sweet spot deep inside you, nudging it softly before dragging his fingers back and forth leisurely. He was drawing you towards heaven slowly, and then he surprised you by changing pace completely. He scissored his fingers, speeding up the movements of his fingers until you were grinding back against him and beginning for more.

You opened up surprisingly easy for him, but he was determined to have you cum at least once on his fingers.

He inserted a third finger, stretching you further and roughly pulsing in and out of you. Quiet screams and helpless pleads slipped from your lips, it was music to Lee’s ears.

“Tell me how that feels, Darlin’?”

“S-s-so good, Sheriff.” You sobbed, pressing your forehead into the window, your fingers gripped onto the metal cuffs as his pace quickened.

“Can feel you clenching ‘round my fingers. You're gripping me like a vice.” You could feel his smirk radiating from his lips. “Gonna cum for me baby?”

You writhed under his touch, he curled his fingers, thrusting them deeper and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. “Oh god!” You cried.

“That’s it, sing for me darlin’.” His words pushed you over the edge, fireworks erupted, white hot pleasure pulsed through your veins as you rode his fingers through your orgasm, a string of moans and curses fell from your parted lips.

You whined as his fingers slipped from your heat, he turned you back around to face him. Your head fell back against the cruiser blissfully as an aftershock rolled violently through your body.

His hands encased your warm cheeks, pulling your head from the car, forcing you back into the moment. His thumbs ran soothingly over your cheeks, chuckling softly, “poor little cock tease, you’re all fucked out just from my fingers.”

He pressed his lips to yours, “Still gonna take my cock though, right?”

You nodded feverently, your lips chasing his, but never quite catching up. ““Please Sheriff, want your cock so badly.” You moaned as your mouth trailed along his taut jawline. “Want it in my mouth too, please.” You begged softly, making his cock twitch.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He stepped backward, pushing you down on your knees. You peered up at him through your thick eyelashes, your mouth watered as he slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled his cock out of his pants.

You inhaled sharply as his length stood proudly in front of your eyes, the length and thickness was more than you were expecting.

Precum spilled from the tip and your tongue darted out to lap it up, swirling it over his sensitive head. A shiver ran down Lee’s spine, his head fell back between his shoulders with a deep sigh.

You wrapped a cuffed hand around the base of his shaft, applying pressure as your tongue worked the head of his cock.

“Fuck.” Lee growled, resting his hand against the back of your head, willing you to stay down there forever. You moved your bobbed up and down his length, moving your hand in sync.

“Take it all in your mouth, Darlin’.” He groaned, pulling your hand from his cock. You hummed, hollowing your cheeks and pushed his cock as far back as you could take it. Your throat contracted around his length, you tried to pull away but he held you there choking on him.

He spoke a broken that’s it into the air above you and lazily rutted his hips, pushing himself further down your throat. Your eyes watered, spit dribbled from your lips as you pulled back gasping for air.

“Fuck darlin’, that mouth of yours is dangerous.” He breathed.

You smiled up at him, pride swelled in your chest. He pulled you up from the ground and crashed his lips into yours, “you’re a goddamn dream.”

You hung your cuffed wrists around his neck, wearing him like a necklace. He placed his hands under your thighs, pulling you off the ground and wrapping your legs around his soft torso.

“Need to feel that tight little pussy.” He moaned, carrying you to the hood of the car and rested your ass against it.

Lee wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, jerking it as he lined it up with your entrance. He pushed inside you slowly stretching you out, his breathing stuttered as you sucked him in inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside you.

Your head fell forwards resting against his chest as you revelled in the delicious burn. It was euphoric, you felt so full.

“Sheriff…” You whined impatiently, circling your hips and pushing him impossibly deeper. Your fingertip locked into the hair on the nape of his neck. “Pl-Please m-mo-ove.” You cried.

“I got ya, darlin’,” he slowly pulled back, leaving you feeling empty and desperate for more. You watched as he slammed back inside you with a harsh thrust, filling you to the hilt all over again.

He whimpered at the way your pussy moulded around him as he drove into you roughly, his grip on your hips were bruising.

His south watered at the sight of your breast bouncing with each thrust. He dipped his head down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing his teeth along the nub. You uttered a heavenly moan with each nip of his teeth, your pussy clenched with each moan.

His hand trailed down from your hip, over your mound, his fingers danced over your clit. He took your sensitive pearl between his thumb and index finger, rolling and pinching it.

It was the final push you needed to send you over the edge, your second orgasm far more intense than the first one. It was prolonged by the fact that Lee’s fingers continued to circle your clit vigorously.

You were so sensitive, it was too much and yet you ground your hips into his as you rode your high out. Through bleary lust filled eyes, you peered up at Lee, harsh breaths fell through the small gaps in his teeth, his eyes screwed shut.

“Gonna cum deep in you darlin’, you want that?” He grunted, his hips began to stuttered, pumping into you unevenly. “Say by the way you’re squeezing me so tightly you do want it.”

Soft beads of sweet rolled over his forehead, his cheeks tinged a light pink colour. He was holding back, waiting to hear you say it. He tugged your face closer to his, his thumb roughly grazing cheek. “Say you want it.” He growled, his desperation seeping into his tone.

“I want it!” You cried, your words were the trigger point, all he needed to spill his seed inside you with a few final staggered pumps.

Lee placed a soft kiss to your damp forehead as he pulled out of you, the mix of both your cum seeping down your bare thighs.

He carefully unlocked the handcuffs, slipping them from your wrists. His fingertips brushed over the noticeable burns left by them.

He admired the brutal aftermath from the metal handles. He was conflicted by how much joy stirred inside his stomach at seeing those bruises on your skin, bruises he’d caused. And yet, he felt an inmate hunger to kiss them all better and protect you.

You interlocked your fingers, squeezing them gently and smiled up at him, “and I thought you said there was nuthin’ special in this little old town.” You giggled softly as he pulled away and tucked his softening cock away.

“Still not convinced ’m anything special, Darlin’.”

You let out a disapproving hum, rolling your eyes, “you got a smoke?” You asked lazily, in no rush to redress, revelling in your post-sex glow.

Lee’s trepidation towards you crept back into the atmosphere between your bodies. He silently placed a cigarette between your lips, lighting before doing the same for himself.

He lent against the cruiser beside you, quietly inhaling a puff of smoke, his nervous eyes flickered to your body every few seconds. You’d left him terrified and awestruck, he had no idea how to treat you now.

“So Sheriff, you gonna tell me your real name?” You asked, puckering your lips round the butt and taking a drag.

A small smile fought its way onto his lips. You tugged at his hand, pulling his thick frame between your open legs. He was instantly captured by the sight of your swollen, sensitive looking pussy leaking over the shiny steel.

“It’s Lee.”

“Nice to meet you officially, Lee.” You smiled sweetly, you ran your hands over his tummy, along his chest enjoying the feel of his body under your soft hands.

You straightened his tie, gazing up at his steel blue orbs. “So what’s it gonna take for you to take me back to your place and show me what else this town has to offer, Lee?”

His tongue wetted his lips, a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth. He “Only condition I have is that you keep your clothes off the whole ride.”

You returned his smirk, placing your lips, “deal.”

Tagging: @elemenhoepe @theselilwonders @delaber @ramp-it-up @nikole-witha-k @lonelydance @tumblin-theworldaway @turbolisedcomet @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @jobean12-blog @offcast-plus1 @cwbucky @midnightf @late-to-the-party-81 @littlelioncub43 @mobbucky

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker imagine #sherrif lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #sebastian stan #the devil all the time

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riridontneedya · 3 years ago

Text

What's mine isn't yours ....

Well! here it is !! After much debate over a title shout out to the absolute babe @notyour-valentine who came up with it! love you lots like jelly tots . Also all the love to the kind @runnning-outof-time who also gave me a fantastic suggestion . Honestly thats why its so late up I went from nothing to spending most the day agonising over my choices hahaha anyway I'm so grateful :) x

Pairing: Tommy x Y/n x Micheal

Summary: Female reader finds herself frustrated with Tommys dismissive behaviour. She sets out to harmlessly achieve a reaction from Tommy with no intention of pursuing these ventures ... however things take a turn when there's a different tone with Micheal

Word count : 3,700

Warnings : Would you like some plot to go with that smut ;) .

A/n: PS! let me know if you'd like a sort of "series" from this .. I can create wee back stories developing more on how each relationship came to be .. if you're interested . I could also make the reader gravitate to your chosen beau or change her tune entirely ! either way let me know & Shout again to the gorgeous lot who helped with the title and support! means the absolute world! Do not hesitate to give me feedback if you wish etc , always happy to hear you guys thoughts and opinions! I really hope you enjoy it xx

Pss: @mrkdvidal1989 loving the honesty haha , here's your wee tag now its completed :) x

The saying goes.. ‘To any action there is always an opposite and equal reaction’ at least according to Newtons theory. Alas y/n was eager to put it to the test tonight. If everything were to go according to plan her actions would solicit the exact reaction she wanted from Tommy. Y/n knew she had to be sly yet subtle .. As Tommy always had a knack for being 10 steps ahead of you. As well as that he seldom rewarded bad behaviour so ,any deliberate frivolous displays of defiance would land her a much longer sentence of silent treatment. This behaviour was not uncommon for Tommy but y/n grew tiresome off his broody spells and lack of communication .. leaving her pining for his attention .. his touch. It had gone on long enough and y/n was ready to play her own games. Y/n gazed over at the numerous articles of clothing littered across the bed. To say she had nothing to wear would be utterly untrue as to fill the void of his absence Tommy always adorned her with the latest ,lavish Parisian fashions and glittering jewels. She had an absolute abundance of choice.. its was just that none of them had that certain je ne sais quoi .If she wore something far too extravagant Tommy would notice immediately ..have her return home at once and demand she tell him who else she was fucking. As toxic as it may seem she needed him riled up not fuelled with explosive anger.

Almost ready to settle for a rather lack lustre dress, y/ns eye caught a ribbon peaking from amongst the hoards of clothes. Immediately she yanked onto it revealing her beloved old corset. With all her new garments she had simply forgotten about this.. it was her absolute favourite Tommys too for sometime.. it was perfect. It was simple yet effective not to garish and with the correct accessories it would surely do the trick. Feeling triumphant with her choice in outfit and hair and makeup done accordingly she was ready to make he way to the Garrison. Y/ns heels echoed along the cobbled street as she headed towards the door . With force she pushed the door open expecting it to be filled to the brim with the usual unscrupulous men , with the usual raucous laughter, and the usual billows of smoke homogenising with the unmistakeable aroma of whiskey. In fact it was entirely the opposite ..music gently hummed from the radio, handfuls of entirely normal looking people dotted about quietly engaged in conversation and sipping drinks. However there was a rather subdued John sipping whiskey at the bar. Panic promptly swept over y/n “fuck” she thought to herself had Tommy just magically preempted she’d act up tonight and called the whole thing off or worse had there been bad news for the family.

Clearing her throat “John” y/n muttered sheepishly. His eyes rapidly shot up in her direction, then began to gloss over her body lingering at her buxom figure. As his eyes loomed over her corset laden bosom he couldn’t help the grin brewing at the corners of his mouth. Fair to say the outfit had the desired effect y/n wanted .. yet again John was quite the easy target. Clearing her throat again, this time louder he promptly snapped his gaze away flashing y/n an apologetic smile. “So ..what’s happening here I thought there was supposed to be party .. but” y/n gestured her hands alluding to the empty bar. “Nothing horribles happened has it John?” Y/n questioned as she made her way behind the bar. “Ey, nout to worry yer pretty head about , there’s some business to attend to first so its been pushed back a couple hours .. didn’t Tommy tell you”. Now what Y/n really wanted to blurt in frustration was “No , because that would require him having to actually talk to me”. But y/n knew better of course he wouldn’t go out of his way for something so menial. Instead with a forced smile she said “Oh dear, I must’ve just forgot”.

True to Johns word as they chatted away and drank the bar became progressively busier starting to take on its familiar formation. Still very much enraged at Tommy y/n had time to set her plan into action. Having plied John with large amounts of alcohol he was now much more aggressive with his flirting and y/n encouraged this , why …well this is because Tommy had an awful jealous streak he simply couldn’t conceal . Apart from everyone simply knowing better than to take what was his he still reeled at the slightest attempt of someone encroaching on his territory. Now what better way than to evoke a reaction than have him think he was being outranked by none other than his own brothers. If it appeared that y/n was being showered in attention whilst not actively seeking it yet not putting a stop to it would surely elicit a strong reaction. John continued to flirt making outlandish comments landing a playful laugh from y/n as she swatted him “Johnathan, behave” she mused. “Ugggh no one calls me that, you don’t hear me calling you y/f/n” he grumbled “True” giggled y/n “But I mean there’s nothing stopping you calling me it ,only my father does”. With hazy eyes John peered at y/n over his glass , his hand sloping towards her hand rested on the bar “Does that make me your Daddy then”. Y/n gawped in astonishment recoiling her hand from out of his reach.

Why was she suddenly so repulsed at his advances.. this would be harder than she thought .. with John no longer a viable choice she’d much rather call it a day than mindless flirt with the likes of Finn or Arthur. Right on queue as if he had a sixth sense Thomas emerged. “You don’t need anymore people calling you daddy John , you already have quite the brood of kids”. With a scoff of disgust directed at Tommy ,John knocked back the remainder of his drink and hobbled away from the bar. “Bottle of whiskey and 4 glasses y/n” instructed Tommy as he seated himself at a table with three other men. Y/n let out a hefty sigh and rolled her eyes. There it was the dismissive behaviour the mere acknowledgment of her existence. She doubted he’d even flinch if John where to mount her there and then at the bar. Tommys provocation had once again soured her mood, wanting him out her sight she set the glasses and whiskey on the table with a begrudging thud narrowing her eyes at Tommy. Without giving him a chance to cast a bland remark she spun hot on her heels and sauntered off.

Y/n heard her name being called from the other side of the room. Swirling around she looked to see who was responsible for calling her . There stood a suited and booted Micheal , fresh back from his travels, the one who this shindig was even for in the first place. His smile was broad and teeth immaculate. “Micheal! welcome back” she beamed , arms akimbo an offering of a hug. Being of similar ages the pair always were rather close and hugs were nothing out of the norm. However there was a different undercurrent tonight. It had only been a six months absence , and whilst he was very much handsome to begin with , he somehow became much more swoon worthy. His cologne smelt absolutely decedent to y/n and his eyes… oh how his eyes were a youthful and vibrant blue, a stark contrast to Tommys paler ones. Those stony pale blue eyes that were rid of the youthful folly and vibrancy but instead the eyes of a man who had seen many a things. Y/n cocked her head to one side and admired the man before her as he spoke. With a tender offer of his hand Micheal suggested the pair find a corner to themselves and begin to catch up over a drink.

“Hey y/n , mind if ask you something” said Michael. Y/ns eyebrow raised “Of course Mike” she smiled“ he edged painfully close to y/n causing her heart to flutter . He began to whisper “If I knew no better y/n , Id think there’s something you’re after from me” y/n felt her breath hitch. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he continued to edged even closer . Despite the full blown raucous party surrounding them at the bar y/n was solely fixated on Michaels presence and the atmosphere created between them. He was now perched behind her his hands snaking at her waist , head rested at the crook of her neck. As he gently spoke his lips grazed her neck “Just say the word and I'm all yours ,anytime any place”. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut his silky smooth voice and audacious words made her heart ricochet. This was supposed to be mindless flirting but instead she found herself warmed to the idea. Just then she felt the pressure of Michael’s manhood rested taut against her . “Look what you do to me y/n” Micheal purred against her ear further propelling her aching desire.

Now, a rouge gunshot or two was a very much common theme in the Garrison , in fact the wall just behind the bar often faced the brunt of all the stray bullets , however what was uncommon and quite frankly terrifying was who let off the gun. Everyones mouth hung agape stunned as Tommy placed it back in the holster as if it was nothing. In fairness it was his bar so he could do as he pleased, but him being a man of few words many would wonder what warranted it .. but y/n knew exactly what did she felt it deep in her bones. The gunshot had made both of them initially flinch but once Michael saw Tommy was the culprit he took a wide birth from y/n ,he knew just as much as she. “Is it that kind of night ey Tommy” came Arthurs raspy voice breaking the silence as he withdrew his gun. With this immediately several people took cover from a drunk gun wielding Arthur “Now now put that away Arthur , there will be none of that , nothing to worry about just my wife and I shall be leaving” there was an extra emphasis on the word wife when Tommy spoke and all eyes darted to y/n. Smiling coyly she scrambled to Tommys side. Her eyes quickly flittered to Michael who could only flash her a weak smile. Tommys hand now clamped to the small of her back as he ushered her to the direction of the door. Once outside he strode towards his car and got in . Not one word uttered to y/n. Following suit she opened the passengers side and got in.

There was an ominous silence that polluted the car. Tommy expression was undecipherable, he had a glassy like stare that remained fixated on the road ahead . Usually such boisterous behaviour from Tommy would warrant an earful from y/n .. however tonight she remained silent . Unsure where to cast her gaze she simply lent her head on the window staring out into the murky night , her hands anxiously contorting in her lap. She was eager to return home. As the car came to halt on the pebbled driveway y/n flung off her seatbelt and proceeded to promptly make her way to the front door. Once inside she immediately began to ascend the stairs , that was until an enormous thud startled her stopping her in her tracks. Once she sourced the noise she saw Tommy stood by the doors of his office ,arms folded tightly against his chest , he had purposefully allowed one of the giant doors to slam creating the god awful thud. “Im… im going to bed Tommy ..goodnight.” y/n uttered. Staring up at y/n his expression remained the same as that in the car.. icy .. unreadable. Suddenly he let out a rather sarcastic chuckle . Moving from his spot he opened his office door and walked in leaving it ajar behind him. Y/n knew she wouldn’t be going to bed anytime soon.

Sheepishly peering around the door she saw Tommy sat behind his desk , plumes of smoke pummelling from his lit cigarette. His eyes carefully followed y/n as she made her way into the office. He may have simply been sat at his desk but y/ns stomach churned. He exuded power over the room everything from his clothes , his demeanour and undeterred gaze could strike fear into you, his effortless dismissal of you always only made you want to demand his attention. If you happened to be one of Gods favourites and fortunate enough to receive it, it would be more valuable than gold itself. “So Micheal hmmm” he scoffed taking a drag from his cigarette. “Usually it's the blokes that are first to do the ditching for a new shiner version … but” he motioned his cigarette toward y/n “ Fair play” .

Fumbling at her words y/n began to defend herself “don’t be ridiculous , is not like that and you know it! Pssh you don’t even acknowledge me half the time and then you come out with that accusation” Tommy raised his eyebrows and leaned forward in his chair. “ Thats where you're wrong dear , I acknowledge everything that belongs too me and ridiculous you say , hmm what I find ridiculous is you thinking that Micheal can offer you anything he’s not half the man you think he’s cracked up to be .. but you know what they say about greener grass y/n” Growing frustrated y/n began to snap back at Tommys remarks. “ Belongs to you .. fucking hell Thomas ,wow whatever I'm going to bed I physically cannot with you sometimes . Its clear to see I’m only here when it suits you .. yeah I know how the saying goes…but from where I'm standing the grass beneath me is fucking dead”. Tommys whiskey glass halted midway to his lips , his grip was firm and his eyes were now engulfed with fury . “You wanna leave.. don’t let me stop ya” he spat.

“Be my fucking guest Y/N” As he flew up from his chair it skidded across the floor flooding the room with a shrill sound that set your teeth on edge . Marching towards the door whiskey glass clutched firmly in one hand he used the other to thrust the door open. Y/n could see that Tommy was teetering more to the explosive anger stage , rather than the pent up sexual anger so she wasted no time storming off in the direction of the door. Much to her surprise before she had a chance to get two feet out the door his free hand came down sharply on her wrist and yanked her back into the office. There they stood. Y/n pressed against the wall with Tommy inches from her. The tension hung around them like a thick smog . Tommys jaw was clenched his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breathe he took. Y/n looked in adoration at the beautiful disheveled man before her , he was so close she wanted to reach out touch him, taste him. As she leant in to touch her trembling lips against his she was alarmed as Tommys hand came up cupping her mouth, his body now firmly against her . Immediately y/n began to protest but to no avail as all that could be heard were faint muffles.

“Shh shh, now thats a good girl” Her trembling body now pinned beneath him . “Open” he commanded as he removed his hand from her mouth and slopped it around her neck tilting it back. Suspending his whiskey glass he poured the remaining contents into her mouth, letting some of the amber liquid dribble down down her chin and on top her breasts. “Swallow” he rasped . Gingerly she gulped down the liquid. Tommy eyes now ablaze he quickly discarded the glass , and crashed his lips forcefully into y/ns as she hungrily returned his feverish kiss. Withdrawing from her lips Tommy spun her around pinning her hands above her head. Kicking apart her feet he now contoured himself against y/ns behind letting her feel his growing erection gyrate against her. A subtle gasp escaped her lips. “Oh so you like that hmm, should’ve known .. who does it better darling ey?me or Micheal” before y/n had a chance to respond he had a fistful of her hair interlocked around his balled fist and was began to tug “ ah ah don’t fuss now angel , you want to act like a whore then Im gonna fuck you like one.. got it? ”. Tommys words sent an electric charge through y/ns body , she came this far in her pursuit and wanted nothing more than to feel Tommys wrath explode inside her. “You better fucking Anwser me” spat Tommy administering another sharp tug to y/ns hair to garner her attention from her lustful haze. “Yes , yes Tommy” she whimpered.

“Good girl” he cooed as his coarse hands sauntered underneath her skirt , his fingers grazing delicately against her folds. “Ive barley touched you and you’re already soaking wet quite the needy little whore ey” as his fingers traced circles she could feel herself start to disintegrate. “Im going to fuck the thought of Micheal right out of your head understand ….you're mine and I won’t let you forget it” y/n let out a guttural groan as Tommy hook aside her underwear and began to ease two fingers inside her. It didn’t take long until his pace became unbearable and y/n felt her vision cloud over “you know its bad manners y/n to not speak when spoken too ! I said did you understand” he growled thrusting in another finger propelling them inside her at a rapid rate . Y/ns body began to buckle after the numerous orgasms rippling through her “yes , yes ” she managed to utter barley catching her breathe. Withdrawing his coated fingers he inched them into y/ns mouth to suck clean . Once she had sucked them earnestly he then began to tug at the lacing of y/ns corset unfurling it from her body and her breasts bouncing free.

“This !” Proclaimed Tommy wielding the corset in y/ns line of vision “I used to fucking love this , but now you’ve gone and been a whore in it , its hardly the same anymore … I'm not gonna give you a chance to pull another little stunt like this .. understand” with that he tossed the corset onto the roaring flames of the fireplace. Y/n gasped attempting to scurry and save it from its fiery demise but not before Tommy stood in her path. “Oh no you don’t on your fucking knees now” he ordered. As if spell bound y/n resisted defiance and dropped willing fully to her knees. Carefully unbuckling him letting his erection spring free she began to run her tongue from the base all the way up the shaft . This elicited a heft moan from Tommy . Truthfully y/n adored the sound of his groans as she pleasured him it coaxed her to go further and further ladening his member in spit as she gagged on his length. Tommys hands came to either side of y/ns cheeks , he gently cradled them before ramming deeper into her mouth causing her to cough and splutter producing tears down her face. Eyes hooded with pleasure he grinned as he removed himself from her mouth with a gratifying pop. “Such a good girl’, he muttered as he helped her to her feet placing a soft kiss on her cheek . ‘Hands” he commanded , unloosening his tie he used them to fasten y/n wrists together . Tommy motioned his he’d to he desk.. y/n knew what was to come next.

Y/n propped her top half over Tommys desk. This hadn’t been the first time he had her face down arse up. Y/n wriggled trying to find a comfortable position as she knew Tommy would show no mercy once he had taken her. She could hear his footsteps approach and eagerly anticipated his touch. Unsuspectedly y/n felt the warmth of Tommy tongue begin to lick stripes at her sex causing her to claw onto the desk. His tongue fixated on her bud it rotated, flickered and vibrated against it causing her to throb. She so desperately wanted to reach round and press him into her as she rode out her orgasm against his face but that would be impossible as her wrist were bound. He did this purposefully so y/n would be at his mercy as she bucked wildly shaking with distress at the multiple earth shattering orgasms coursed through her. Satisfied with the distress he had caused and y/ns trembling legs he lined himself up to her entrance.

With y/ns slickness he slid in with ease. Tommy moaned with ecstasy as he entered a resounding “fuck” spilling from his lips. His hands fastened at her waist and he began to pummel into her with vigour. The table shook and several trinkets and paper began to tumble off. Y/ns let out screams between pants calling out Tommys name “thats right , let me hear you call my name” his hand striking her arse. Teasingly he withdrew from her then abruptly slammed his length back into . Tommy felt himself getting closer so he picked up his pace for the final push. “Im going to finish inside you , let's see if that adoration he has for you is still there when you're carrying my child” Tommy rasped his pace now sluggish , letting out an ungodly groan as he shot into her. Collapsing onto her back the pair both gasped for breathe. Tommy hoisted himself off y/n , his contents running down the inside of her thighs. Combing his hands through his disheveled hair he cleared his throat and rearranged himself back into his trousers. “Clean yourself up’ he said dryly tossing a rag in y/ns general direction . With that he headed out the door letting it slam shut behind him.

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beskar-cowboy · 3 years ago

Text

are you lonesome tonight?

Summary: Deep in New Mexico on an aimless road trip, you meet retired agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels one night in a local bar. (6.9k words) read on ao3 here

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, angst, smoking, drinking, age gap (difference not specified), oral (f receiving), minimal plot for the western vibes, feelings if you squint, praise AND dirty talk cause it’s Jack Fuckin’ Daniels

Jack doesn’t usually stray away from home like this. It’s not like him to wander, to willingly get lost, in his mind, and now in the desert.

Step away from the job. Go home Whiskey, they had told him, you need to relax.

He is getting old. His back gets sore easily now, aches more often - especially after a mission.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe he does need to stop, slow down, smell the fuckin’ roses for once.

So he heads West. For whatever reason.

He doesn’t know where he’s going - he doesn’t think he ever did, certainly not after losing her… and their unborn child - but now he’s really, purposefully lost, headed towards some unknown, unseen beacon - he’s pulled towards it like a siren song.

Maybe this’ll make him relax.

***

You’re outside Amarillo, you know that for certain. But you can’t remember passing the stateline, out of Texas and into New Mexico.

You know you passed it, you must have, you must be in New Mexico by now but when you think about it really hard you think you might still be in Texas.

It’s flat out here, not a lot of mountains - everything looks the same, it makes driving tedious and tiresome. The green hue of the dashboard clock reads midnight and you think it’s time to pull over for the night.

You come up on a town, the billboard reads San Jon. Bright lights in the distance spell out ‘motel’ and fuck it, thats good enough for you.

The parking lot is lonesome. There’s a bar across the street - it’s too enticing. You think you might as well get something to drink, calm your mind before you tuck in for the night.

The lights are warm inside, dim and inviting - something you weren't expecting in a place like this but you sigh a breath of relief when you sit yourself down at the quiet bar.

Quiet music and even quieter chatter fills the room, you feel out of place but not uncomfortable. You just want one drink, maybe two, then you’ll head up to the motel and pass the fuck out before you start driving again tomorrow. Easy. Simple.

The bartender makes his way over to you, a much older man with white hair, a sweet face. His southern twang is sort of cute when he asks you what you’d like.

“Jack and coke, please.” You smile. He nods politely.

There’s only one other man sitting at the bar, at the complete opposite end of it compared to you. You make brief eye contact with him - he’s handsome, it’s awkward.

He wears an old fashion cowboy hat - tacky, you think. He’s got a dark, strong mustache, deep eyes. He’s pretty.

He smiles at you but you’ve already turned away, far too tired and too easily flustered for… that.

The bartender returns promptly with your drink and you hand him a few bills, really set on only having one drink tonight but he shakes his head.

“Already paid for, sugar.”

Fucking perfect.

You can already feel him moving towards you, already feel the way his words will grate against your ears, send your stomach churning and the superficial attraction you might have felt from one quick glance dissipating completely.

He sits down next to you and the barstool squeaks with age. You visibly cringe.

“Did I come over too fast?” Voice like honey, it’s sickeningly smooth. He’s a sweet talker type, you already know it.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

He gets comfy in his seat, watching the way your throat bobs with the cold alcohol.

Jack and coke, a funny choice, he thinks to himself. A damn funny coincidence.

“It’s hard - startin’ a pretty conversation with a pretty lady.” He says and you audibly scoff as you down your drink.

Ew, old man’s clearly out of practice.

“And I guess I’m off to a rough start, aren’t I?” He chuckles, enjoying the struggle it seems.

You scoff again, speaking quietly “I’ll say.”

Jack smiles to himself, pleased that he’s managed to entice you enough to weasel out a snarky little comment. He likes this little attitude of yours.

His sharp tongue flicks against the inside of his mouth as he shoots out a whistle. You snap your head in his direction, ready to berate him, ready to slap him in his face for whistling at you but he’s turned away towards the other side of the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

He’s cocky, too loud, too confident. You hate it - you can feel him overcompensating for something.

You take another swig of your drink as you glance at his side profile, fighting the urge to knock off his stupid fucking cowboy hat that hides so much of his face in a shadow thats too dark for this warm bar.

Cowboy’s got a scar running down the back of his neck, your eyes can’t help but follow it down, down, down until it’s cut off by the leather of his jacket. It’s whiter than the rest of his tanned skin, but it doesn’t look fresh. It looks more like an old wound, white and raised with time.

His head turns back, eyes catching yours and you nearly choke on your drink. Fuck are his eyes deep. He smiles like he notices the slight hitch in your throat, the way your chest heaves on an inhale while you awkwardly swallow down your drink.

“Name’s Jack.” He smiles, something tooth-rotting-ly sweet.

Jack - his butter sweet voice rings in your ears and bubbles in your tummy and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You chase it with your drink.

You don’t offer him your name in return - he takes it in stride.

“You a long ways from home?” He presses all too casually, his own drink being placed down in front of him.

You don’t answer, you just swirl the drink around in your glass, watching the ice cubes melt with every second that passes. Jack grows awkward, he fidgets in his chair and takes another swig from his shallow glass, letting the alcohol burn on its way down.

“Come on, where ya from, darlin’?”

“Nowhere.” You grumble, nervously twisting in your own chair, letting the squeaking become louder than your own voice.

Maybe he’ll leave you alone if you keep curving him, maybe then he’ll get the message. Men aren’t always so good at that.

The old cowboy laughs with his chest, nothing too loud, just amused - it makes your cheeks hot. He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He smiles as he opens them, placing one between his lips before looking at you inquisitively, offering you one. You look away.

He takes an exaggeratedly long drag, making a real show of it, “Nowhere,” he repeats, “how poetic of you.”

Smoke spills from between his parted lips and out his nose, it’s all too mesmerizing.

“Like you go around telling strangers where you’re from.” You scoff, keeping your voice low out of disinterest.

The sweet scent of his tobacco warms your chest and - oh fuck off, it’s just the alcohol.

“Jackson, Tennessee.” He smiles, all shiny and proud as he holds his cigarette between two calloused fingers and gripping his drink with the others, taking another swig. You do the same.

You weren’t expecting him to answer, but he could just as well be lying. Men lie, men lie, men lie, he has less to worry about than you, you have to remind yourself. Men lie all the time - it’s easy for them.

“Well, aren't you a long ways from home?” You sneer, a mean smile pulling at those goddamn lips of yours. You mirror his words from before, Jack doesn’t miss the fact that you remembered them.

“Could say the same about yourself.” He smiles, something soft and quiet.

Jack can always tell when someone’s out of place, when they’re unfamiliar with their surroundings, trying to constantly find a way to ground themselves, feel secure, safe, root themselves into something so they don’t blow away from the sheer force of the land. He got way too good at that at Statesma-

No. He’s here to forget that.

You don’t answer him, either way, your lack of an answer is answer enough for the old cowboy. You roll your eyes, taking another swig from your quickly depleting drink.

Jack seems to notice, he calls the bartender over again and you try to tell him no, but he insists that it’s on me, girl.

You sigh, too easily defeated and - embarrassingly - needing another drink. You’ll sleep better with a second, your sleep will be dreamless with a second, you tell yourself.

“Same thing, please.” You ask the bartender quietly, near bashful.

Jack smiles at you while you order, you notice it from the corner of your eye and it makes you tick, makes your leg bounce up and down with unkempt nerves and you wish you could just get up and leave but you really want that second drink now.

You definitely do not want to see how far this will go, how far he’ll push you. No, no, no it’s not that, it’s definitely not that, he’s just some small town, honky tonk, old fucking-

“I know you.” He smiles and your stomach drops, heart pounding.

“What?” You ask, too harsh, too sharp.

Sore spot there - Jack makes a mental note to stay away from whatever that is.

“I said, I know you.” He repeats against his own judgement.

You stare blankly, trying to think of where he could possibly know you from. You’d remember his face if you’d seen it before, you’d remember him.

“Yeah,” He says around a chuckle, cheeks sucking in as he inhales the smoke, shooting it back out through his nose, “I know you, you’re uh, a cowboy.”

You laugh, you laugh so hard you nearly snort out your drink through your nose. You laugh so hard even the bartender turns his head. Jack can tell it's not friendly, it's a laugh that's meant to ward off strangers, meant to belittle him, make fun.

Too bad he likes it.

He knows you mean to shoot daggers right through him and scare him away but stupid old Jack thinks he’s never heard a sound so sweet.

“A cowboy?” You repeat through a laugh, your nerves dissipating.

His way of talking makes your stomach get all fluttery, makes your face hot and your cheeks start to go numb. Or maybe it's the alcohol, probably the alcohol.

“Yup,” he nods, “A cowboy indeed. A bandit, some might say.”

You laugh again and he smiles back. He’s not entirely wrong.

You have your reasons for running into the desert. You have your own people you hide from, your own things you hunt for.

There is a reason you’re out here, all too far from home, lost in the desert, purposefully losing yourself - things you’re trying to forget.

Maybe Jack knows those things too.

His eyes are warm, soft things that stare too deeply into your own. It’s too late at night for those types of looks, he’s treading on dangerous territory and he knows it, you know it.

But the night grows darker and so do your eyes. Eventually you stop pushing him away as your drink settles in your gut - something like liquid courage burns through you and makes you feel bright and stupid and giddy despite the creeping darkness.

“A bandit.” You repeat, laughing and shaking your head.

Jack’s cigarette smoke has turned sweet, enticing and warm. Everything about him is warm, how can a stranger be so warm? You feel like you’re subconsciously leaning into him - a moth to the flame. Helpless, lost, in need of some sort of waypoint and he’s the brightest thing in the sky with those white fucking teeth of his.

So you let him talk and damn that mouth of his, you don’t think this man ever shuts up. He talks a big game, an obvious flirt - a bad one - but he tries nonetheless and it makes you nervous, like a dog before a storm.

You guess he can’t be all that bad if he’s got you so silently flustered, face hot and thighs aimlessly rubbing against the other. Something is building inside and it scares you.

He’s handsome - that’s indisputable - you recognized it from the moment you saw him from across the bar.

Jack is good looking, way too handsome to be out here in some dingy bar, throwing corny pickup line after corny pickup line at you like he doesn’t have years of practice over you, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“What are you even doing here?” You blurt out, your lips loose and soft - you couldn’t have held in your burning question even if you tried. Jack smiles, admiring his third or fourth glass of dark liquor instead of looking at you.

Why do you look so lonely? Jack thinks.

“My job, they uh, thought it’d be good fer me to… get out of the office.” He says instead.

You hum, understanding and eyeing the way his eyes look somber even though he continuously smiles.

“Their idea of forced retirement I think.” Jack chuckles sadly.

“Retirement?” You say, astonished. How old is this guy?

Jack nods his head. “Retirement comes early in my line of work, sweet pea.”

You pause. Absorbing that information. And the nickname. You wonder what he does, or did, for a living. For some reason you’re afraid to ask.

Your belly flutters - he’s let something loose in you, something you tried to drown long ago but arises simply and stupidly at the use of a term of endearment. You’re not used to this sort of attention.

Not aware you had been staring, Jack shuffles awkwardly in his chair, becoming flustered himself.

“Now, don’t go lookin’ at me like that darlin’.”

“L-Like what?” You scoff, looking back down at your own drink, away from him.

“Like I’m some old man.”

Your heart clenches. Something else does too.

“Are you not?” You poke.

Jack chuckles. “Guess I’m damn well old enough for my back to be hurtin’ like this.” He groans, arching his back, flexing his arms to deepen the stretch.

His biceps pull the fabric of his jacket incredibly tight while the white of his t-shirt rides up over the softness of his gut.

More tanned skin - he’s not incredibly toned, you find yourself not minding that. You think you like it actually, it makes more sense on him, makes more sense that he’s secretly soft.

It’s almost… endearing. Fuck.

You look away quickly, taking another swig of the harsh liquor that hardly burns on its way down anymore.

“You book a room at the motel?” He asks, pointing behind you, in the direction of the motel across the street.

“Not yet.” You answer tentatively, shooting silent daggers through him at his promiscuous question.

It’s his way of asking, and you don’t tell him no. You both acknowledge it.

It goes quiet between the two of you for the first time tonight - other than when he first approached you.

You only notice the music playing softly in the background now - something homey and painfully southern. Jack seems to notice it too.

“Wanna dance?” He asks, smiling. You burn.

Your eyes dart from his to the cigarette pack still laying on the bar. You want one, you want to dance but… but not with him.

That’s what you tell yourself.

The longer the song plays, the more your head feels all loopy. You need a cigarette. It’s been ages since he offered you one - maybe hours - but you sort of just want to take one to get him talking again. You can’t handle this awkward silence.

You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want to bore him - you don’t know why.

So you sneak your hand towards the pack and slide one out, placing it between your lips and lighting it up yourself before giving him back his lighter. You stand from your seat and Jack watches with wide eyes, mindlessly finding the pocket on his leather jacket and dropping the lighter in it - all the while watching you walk away from him.

The smoke burns your throat, stings your eyes but you inhale deeply, welcoming the headrush.

You walk out onto the floor, it’s not a dance floor, but you don’t plan on dancing. You don’t. You don’t.

But the song comes to you, you let the cigarette dangle between your lips and your arms go up above your head. You sway - you dance and you don’t look at Jack even though you know he’s staring, you know every lonely man in this place is.

Jack stands, slowly approaching you, tentatively, with his tail between his legs in submission, like a sorry old dog. You feel his body near yours before you see it, you think your eyes are closed, maybe it’s just really dark in here.

“Can I?” He asks, one hand skimming your hip, barely touching you. Your flesh burns under his touch - you think you need it.

You nod your head, grabbing his other hand and placing it on your hip.

Jack nearly cradles you to his chest, unafraid of wrapping his arms around you and holding you so fucking close - too close. You feel like you could suffocate.

You wedge your cigarette between two fingers before bringing your own arms around his neck, putting in just as much effort into holding him close.

And you just stay like that for however long you do - holding each other and not saying a word.

It makes sense, for whatever reason. Makes sense to have him holding you like this, his unfamiliar body feeling so fucking good and warm pressed up against yours, holding you in his strong arms, swaying you along with him.

He smells like pine, leather and something burnt, smokey - it gives you a head rush stronger than the fucking cigarette. He smells so good, feels so good - you squish yourself to him, something prickling at your eyes and fuck, aren’t you a sorry sight? Crying in the arms of a stranger.

“Don’t kiss me goodbye.” You whisper. Jack leans in closer to you, nudging his head with yours and you feel his lips ghost along the side of your face, mustache rasping against your soft skin.

“Whatd’ya mean, pretty girl?” He grits, voice gone all deep and dark and quiet. You quiver in his arms, clenching for it already.

“Tomorrow morning… don’t kiss me goodbye, okay?”

Your bodies stop moving and you let your hands fall into his. He seems to have gotten it now - as he rushes you to the door of the bar, out into the cool air of the desert night and towards the motel across the street.

It hits you like a wall, the fresh air. Enough to make the alcohol dissipate in your system and the smoke from your eyes. You drop the stub end of your cigarette onto the asphalt and kill it with the heel of your boot.

Fuck do you want him. Even out here, even with fresh air filtering out the smoky haze. You can see him more clearly now, see him for what he is; a stranger, a man you don’t know - an older man and fuck it you want him. You still want him.

“I’ve never done this before.” You blurt and he turns around, squeezing your hand tight in his, almost in a panic.

“Are you-”

“No, not like that, I mean- I just meant I’ve never slept with someone I… that I just met.” You stumble like a damn fool, trip over your words and you worry you fucked it all up.

You worry he’ll realize he’s too old for you, too tired, too fed up with this fucking life of his and leave you on the side of the highway and when the fuck did you become so hung up on this stranger. You hate it - you decide you hate him. You hate Jack.

But the old cowboy laughs. He laughs and comes up real close to you again and his face shines in the neon light of the motel sign. He’s so close but he doesn’t touch you, not quite.

“Well, that makes you the best of us.” He smiles, eyes all squinty and dark.

“Jack,” You practically purr and he melts on the spot, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

It’s the first time you’ve said his name all night. His face twitches at the way your lips and tongue curl around the four letters, the way you practically breathed it like it was the most natural thing ever. Jack watches you melt as he places his hand on your cheek, as he cups your face in his much larger hand. You go into it too instinctually.

He’s so warm and it’s so cold out here in the desert.

“Sshh, pretty girl,” he purrs back at you, cutting you off with soft mouth sounds and pulling you close. Your breath hitches in your throat as your chests bump. He leans down and nudges his strong nose against your own.

“I’m just teasin’ ya.” He smiles one final time before pressing his lips to yours.

***

Jack kisses you like it’s nothing. Like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done, like he’s done it before, countless times actually. Like he knows the way your lips would glide against his, the way his mustache would grate at your skin but it makes you that much more desperate for him.

Jack kisses you like he knows you, like he’s known you, like is the best thing and the only thing he’s good at and you moan against his mouth - you can’t help it; you’ve never been kissed like this before.

Both of your clothes are scattered throughout his room, the inside of your thighs still burn with the leftover, minute grate of his mustache but it’s somewhat soothed now - with your slick coating both of your lower halves, more spilling out of you as Jack pulls orgasm after orgasm from you with too much ease. He’s too good at this, too good at fucking you.

Like he knows you.

“Jack-” You moan, voice broken and hoarse and punched out of you by his cock in your belly.

He’s got you on your knees, face down, smushed in the pillows as he plows into you from behind, hands warm and soft and strong and bruising on your hips, pulling you into him again and again as you wail helplessly into the muffling fabric.

“Fuck thats- that’s so good.” You cry, hands fisting the sheets, desperate to anchor yourself to something.

Jack hums something content, proud. He’s been giving it to you like this for an hour now, maybe more, you don’t know anymore. Everything’s begun to blend together except the harsh, unforgiving spearing of his thick cock in your slick, velvety heat.

He had begged for it, you told him he didn’t have to, didn’t have to go down on you because guys didn’t always like that but he asked so nicely. And who were you to deny this old cowboy of a good meal anyways?

He wanted it, wanted it so bad and he watched the way you swallowed his fat fingers, the way you cried and arched into him, swivelling your hips to let him fuck you better and he licked up everything you gave him - pleading with you for another one, another orgasm.

“Perfect lil’pussy, so fucking good - such a good girl, lettin’ me have you like this,” he had praised you and you weeped as his tongue lapped through your folds, as he properly ate you, drank from you like he was fucking starving.

His twang had gotten thicker, his voice dropping multiple octaves and it did nothing but make you thirstier for him - bled you dry like the surrounding desert.

Jack pummels into you without relent, body bending over yours to fuck down into you and you sob helplessly into the pillow, fingers going pale from how desperately you try to latch onto something, anything.

You scramble underneath him but he pins you down with the sheer force of him and sweet words and you melt back into place, desperate for him to call you a good girl one more time, please Jack, I’ll be so good I-I promise, please.

***

You weren’t expecting anything - not from him, not from the situation. He could’ve just finished on your stomach, on your back, your ass, inside of you for all you care - rolled over, reached for his cigarette pack and that be it. You would have gotten up, got dressed, and gone downstairs to get your own room. That’s what you were planning on doing.

But Jack didn’t cum, maybe he wasn’t done with you quite yet.

He lit up a cigarette, took one long drag, chest expanding erratically, still trying to catch his breath, stretching scratched up ribs as he offered you a shower.

He tells you he’ll join you in a second, probably just wants to finish his cigarette but you momentarily think he’ll get up and leave you alone to find his own room. Either way, it makes no real difference to you - you head for the shower.

You keep the lights off, not wanting them to blind you, wake you up from this dream state. The moonlight comes in through the small window in the shower, you decide it’s enough for you.

You turn the water coolish, enough to calm down a bit but not too much to freeze. You step in and let it cool and soothe your sex hot skin.

You wash away the mess between your legs, most of it your own slick and maybe Jack’s saliva, buried deep inside of you still from how thoroughly he had fucked you, pushing it deeper and deeper. You whine a little at the thought.

The bathroom door creaks and Jack smiles at the sight - you, standing underneath the steady stream, having not bothered to draw the curtain - you left it open for him.

You feel different now, almost embarrassed at him observing you like this even though he had just stared into the depths of your gaping cunt for the past hour or so.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He says all suave, like how he had spoken back in that quiet bar.

“Hi.” You squeak back, feeling so unlike yourself, so not brave like you had been earlier.

You think he’s the gorgeous one. Sweat damp hair, curling around the frame of his face - flushed cheeks, tanned, marvelous skin. You can see his scars more clearly now, see how they wrap around so much of his skin, paler in comparison to his golden body.

Early retirement, he had said. What did that mean, what did he do?

His cock hangs between his strong thighs, below his thin waist. He’s still hard. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

You catch his eyes, they’re dark, still hungry and starved and you back up to make room for him in the modestly sized shower. There’s enough room for two, but he still comes to be pressed right up against you.

He’s quiet - you both are as you just sort of stare at the other. You don’t know what time it is, the night outside has gone pitch black and you’ve lost any sense of time, almost forgotten what state you’re in. Was it Texas or New Mexico? Maybe you made it out to Nevada...

Jack’s fingers find your waist, just resting there, trailing tentatively - like he’s checking that this is okay, that you’re comfortable even after fucking you into the matress for the past couple of hours.

You hum, appreciative of the cool water in contrast with his large, warm, southbound hand.

His fingers glide through your glossy folds, your leftover arousal clear and distinct from the water - it’s thick, slippery, Jack can smell it seeping from you.

You arch into his touch willingly, leaning back against the cool tiles of the shower, gasping at the sting and canting your hips up into his touch, presenting yourself to him.

Jack smiles, wicked, evil. You’ve become so easy, open for him. He’s more than appreciative, less than deserving.

He doesn’t know what he did to make you bend to his will like this, he knows he’s got experience, he knows he’s got years on you but why did he deserve this, why? What did he do?

Jack doesn’t believe in karma, never has, never will. But he touches you like he’s known your body, and you both gasp and breathe into the other's mouth, sharing your oxygen amongst the cool pitter patter of the shower and you begin to fall apart on his fingers again.

He glides two fingers into your sore cunt, stuffing you full of him again and you moan something broken, sucking in his fingers greedily and Jack groans at the snug fit and Christ, how had he managed to fit his cock in there, how did you take him over and over again? Two fingers feels like too much for you yet you whine and buck into it.

Jack grinds his fingers into you, pleading with you to cum, cum fer me, just like this, sweet girl. Can you do that fer me? Can you let me feel it?

“Yeah, Jack- fuck.”

It’s so much. His fingers are thick, wide things and you can feel how he stretches you with them, scissors them to make room for his cock which bobs and twitches against your thigh. He’s so fucking hard, you’re desperate to feel him inside you again, you need it you need it you need it-

“N-Need it, please.” You whisper, head foggy and glazed over with arousal, with want for this man.

Your nails dig into his biceps, both of them flexed hard - one hand digging around in your cunt, carving you out while the other keeps you steady, tucked under your arm and wrapped around your back, pressing you between him and the wall. You’re cornered, you’re done for.

“Jack-”

“That’s it, baby, that’s it.” He coos, voice gone soft and drippy like honey and you’re gone.

You squeeze his fingers tight, suffocate them, clenching around him like you’ve known nothing else and you cum on his fingers, soaking him and collapsing forward as you tremble in his embrace.

Jack leans back slightly, shifting his weight to accept yours. Your arms curl in between your bodies, as if shielding yourself and his go down, along your body to cage you against him, hands coming down to grope your ass.

He pulls at the soft, pliable flesh, growling in your ear as you still come down from your high. With sticky fingers, his hand comes down onto your ass, striking the flesh and feeling it jiggle back into place. You jolt into him, crying out at the harsh sting and Jack’s gone feral, needing to consume you again.

“Get back into bed.” He orders.

“Jack I’m still, I’m-” Drenched, soaking from the shower.

“I don’t care, girl,” He growls, teeth nipping at your ear lobe. “I want you wet.”

You laugh breathlessly, overwhelmed by his need for you yet needing to satisfy your own.

You lazily kiss at his neck before pulling yourself from his arms, dripping as you step out of the shower and onto the tile floor of the bathroom. You look back at him to find him watching you with careful eyes, surveying your every move. You turn back and head for the bed.

Tile turns to old carpet, you cringe as you soak it with each step. You launch yourself onto the bed, laying on your back - your cool skin pebbles in contrast to the warm desert air of the motel room.

Jack emerges from the doorway, body strong, lean but soft and pudgy - he looks like a fucking statue and you nearly lose your breath.

He stalks to the side of the bed, sitting down near your head. His broad shoulders and back are to you but he turns - hand coming to cradle your cheek as he looks at you over his shoulder. It’s far too tender of a look for what he’s about to ask of you.

“Will you let me try somethin’?”

“Yeah, Jack.” You say with such trust in your voice - a trust he doesn’t deserve.

Like you’ve known him, like you’ve been lovers.

Reaching for his worn jeans, Jack leans down and pulls a handle from the waist band, something you hadn’t noticed till now, something dark and long.

He keeps pulling - a whip, lasso, something like that.

Your body responds immediately, hips arching into nothing and goosebumps erupting across your flesh at the mere suggestion.

Jack’s no idiot - he sees the way your eyes go dark - swallowed up by the eclipse of your blown out pupils. He sees it, can fucking smell it leaking from you from where he stands.

“Yeah?” He asks again, making sure.

You nod with doe eyes.

Jack climbs back on top of the messy bed, coming near to your body and you need him, need him to use you. “Let me hear ya say it, sweet girl.”

“I want it, please.” You say too quickly and he smiles.

He yanks your arms above your head, stretching you all nice and long for him. He takes your hands in his and makes you hold onto the bar of the old bed frame - you keep them there. He rounds up the lasso in his hands and you whine, back arching into his body which looms wide and strong over yours, waiting, desperate and wanting.

Jack traces the strong rope across your body, along your stomach and you curl into it, writhing as it leaves a trail of goosebumps, raised and tender flesh in its wake.

“W-Where’d you get it?” You whisper again, asking in a voice so small and curious it makes his cock twitch. Jack smiles, pleased.

“Souvenir from work.”

Jack suddenly whips the lasso and you gasp in shock as it burns like fire across skin - your wrists bound in place, to the bed frame with almost no effort on his part.

Jack smiles, pleased with his handiwork.

He wants to know you like he knows the back of his hand.

***

Legs bent up high, knees pressing into your breasts, you’ve been thoroughly fucked numb. But Jack is relentless.

You’re wet and sticky and tired from it all, strung out thin and exposed like a live wire, burnt raw and tender. You can take no more, you’re not sure Jack can either - but neither of you stop, neither of you want to.

He’s removed the lasso from your wrists, having been desperate to feel you cling to him, scratch him up and remind him that he’s real, that this is real.

Jack’s sweet to you near the end, when he’s cum two or three times and you six or eight - you don’t know anymore, you’ve lost track of everything.

He’s so sweet and tender and just fucking kind to you. Lips pressed tightly to your skin, mustache rasping against your skin, Jack whispers your praises like he’s scared someone will come and rip him from you, like he’ll never see you again - you try not to think about it.

Try not to think about how sentimental you’ve become over this old cowboy in mere hours. It’s embarrassing. But you find it hard to care when he’s fucked you dumb like this.

You’re too sweet to me girl, too fuckin’ sweet I can’t- I can’t-

You’re doin’ so good, so good baby I- Jesus fuck don’t squeeze me like that you’ll make me fuckin’ cum and this- this can’t be over, not yet

Jack-

Just a lil longer, just let me fuck you a lil longer, okay?

T-Too much

Ssshh, I know you can take it. Know you can take it like a big girl.

I’ll eat you out as long as you like, I’ll make it so fuckin’ good for you, just- just let me fuck you, please

He’s babbling, long past the point of coherence - Jack Daniels is lost in your glossy, sticky cunt.

The hotel room is humid, it smells like sweat and sex and cum and something far too sweet to be growing between the two of you - two strangers.

But Jack keeps going. You go with it - you follow him to the end.

You keep going until something looms over the horizon, something threatening to spill over. Like some sort of feeling, emotion, revelation about the two of you, your two old souls or maybe it was just the fucking sun painting the lonely desert in all its glory but Jack cums inside of you one final time and you both collapse onto one another.

You’re wet, sticky from sweat and slick alike. Your limbs rendered useless and numb but you can feel his weight on top of you, keeping you in check like a paperweight.

The lobby downstairs has long since closed, there’s no use in you leaving now.

So you fall asleep with Jack in your arms, cradled to your chest as he presses whispers of praises and kisses into your delicate, bruised flesh. He presses them in between your breasts so that maybe it seeps into something tender and fleshy and bloody like your heart.

***

The sun is harsh, brutal beating down on you and Jack in the middle of the bar’s parking lot. The bartender from last night is opening up for the day, he spares you two a sideways glance before disappearing behind the blackness of the door.

“Where ya headed now, girl?” Jack asks, shades covering his eyes, hat in his hands. He fiddles with it, toys with the worn and loved rim. He’s nervous.

He wanted to fuck you again when the sun rose up.

Your skin glowed, you looked so soft, so fucking pliable to his rough hands and he wanted to bite, suck, kiss, devour you. He wanted to carve himself into you and never fucking leave that bed.

But you rolled into him, a sleep heavy sigh pushed out of your nose and you pushed your face into his neck - unconsciously breathing him in. Jack felt you relax against his body, settling just that much further into sleep, trusting him to hold you through it.

He nearly choked on the thought, nearly died right there from how fucking precious you are.

Jack decided against fucking you again, no matter how soft and tender he would have made it for you no matter how bad he wanted to feel you wrapped all snug and warm around him one last time.

Jack decided to watch you sleep until you blink those big eyes open again and giggle when you find him staring.

“Morning, girl.”

You laughed, rolling onto the other side of the bed and sitting up. Jack admired the naked expanse of your back. You turned to look back at him, your profile lit up by the morning sun while Jack admired the expanse of you.

You looked like some sort of angel - naked and glowing.

“Good morning, Jack.”

You sigh, looking off into the distance, down the infinite highway, away from him, that dark golden gaze.

“Nevada.” You exhale. That’s broad enough of an answer, right?

Jack smirks, nodding his head. “California after, I’m guessin’?”

Damn, he’s good. Or maybe you’re just obvious. Maybe you’re just exactly the type of girl he knows, the type of girl that would run away to the West, to fucking California like it meant anything, like it would reveal something to you. You know better, so does Jack.

He reaches for something in the pocket of his jeans, a folded paper from the motel room. He hands it to you, your fingers touch and it jolts you. Jack seems to feel it too.

“I’ll be seein’ ya, pretty girl.” He smiles before haphazardly tossing his old cowboy hat onto your head. You grip it tightly, not wanting it to fall.

“Hey- your hat!” You call after him but he’s already nearing the side of the highway, preparing to cross.

Jack looks back at you and smiles, shrugging. “Give it back to me in Cali.” He blows you an exaggerated kiss and your request from last night burns deep in your chest like leftover cigarette smoke - or a hangover.

Jack walks back towards the backside of the motel and you lock yourself into your car before you can watch him walk away more than you already have.

The old hat smells like him, you can still feel the residual heat from his hands on the rim and something prickles in your eyes. Damn desert dust.

You sit behind the wheel, hands carefully unfolding the scrap paper he had given you.

In beautiful cursive reads;

See you in California sweet pea,

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

You laugh. You laugh out loud to yourself in your car, by your lonesome in the middle of a deserted parking lot in the middle of fucking New Mexico.

How had he known that you were going to California, when had he written this? You had just told him where you were going.

You laugh some more, wiping your eyes. You tuck the note into the pocket of your jeans, starting your car.

You head down the highway in silence, smiling to yourself as you head East.

taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl

#jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #reader insert #smut #jack whiskey daniels x reader #kingsman fanfiction #my writing #imagine

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lem-20 · 2 years ago

Note

Halloween, book 1, post Miami, at Donahue’s. Cecilia is wearing a costume and Ethan can’t tear his eyes out of her. What is she wearing?

Anon you are amazing and I love you. That is all 😆🥰

Under her spell

Summary: Someone catches Ethan's eye at the Donahue's Halloween party

Book/Pairing: Open Heart/Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cecilia Gibson)

Category/Rating: Angst/Teen

Words: <600

The drink (or two) he's about to consume are much needed and definitely deserved after another long day at the hospital—more specifically after spending the day with those god damn interns.

He pushes the door of Donahue's open, but it's not the relatively quiet sanctuary he's used to—the place is bustling. Everywhere he looks are people dressed in all sorts of costumes; dark fabrics, fake blood and the odd random super hero or costumes he doesn't even recognise—movie characters perhaps.

He knew this day was coming, decorations had adorned several of the wards at the hospital for days, but he never took much notice of such things, so the day had crept up on him.

If he had remembered he never would have come here tonight—the night Donahue's held their annual Halloween party. It's too late now though, he's here and his heart is set on that glass of scotch.

He catches Reggie's attention and points to an empty table that, luckily, is still free in a darkened corner of the room. Reggie brings him his drink and he takes a slow sip, trying hard to block out all the noise and people, especially when he spies several familiar faces from the hospital.

This is not the relaxing end to the day he was hoping for, so he decides to finish this drink and call it a night, but then someone catches his eye and he's instantly entranced. A blonde beauty wearing a floor length black gown cinched at the waist, fake tattoos scattered up her arms and neck, eyelashes thick and black, plump lips painted a dark burgundy, and it's at that point he wonders what it would taste like to kiss her and whether that lipstick would leave a mark on him. But of course he already knows the answer to one of those questions.

His eyes briefly scan her outfit again, some sort of witch he guesses, a classic choice for Halloween; that one night where people could be anything or anyone but themselves. And that's just what he was going to do—pretend she was someone else—at least that would alleviate some of the guilt he usually feels when he finds himself looking at her for longer than he should. This time he'd allow himself to indulge just a little longer.

As it turns out, it's near impossible for him to deny her true identity. He'd spot her in any room, no matter how crowded or how different she looked. She seemed to exude an energy and light that always had the power to draw him in. He'd always recognise her—Dr. Gibson...Cecilia.

The spell is soon broken as she looks directly at him, meeting his eye and breaking into a smile. It's infectious and he can't help but smile back, but it's also his cue to stop looking and to dive back into his glass of whiskey.

He drains the last few drops and decides to head home where he will no doubt have a second drink to help numb the self inflicted torture he suffers by not being with her.

Tags: @starrystarrytrouble @queencarb @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @the-pale-goddess @annfg8 @cariantha @zahrachoices @liaromancewriter @custaroonie

@choicesficwriterscreations

I know I didn't ask specifically if you wanted to be tagged in these little ask inspired drabbles, so feel free to ignore 🥰

#a little angsty at the end there 😆#ethan x cecilia #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #asks #cfwc fics of the week

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rere-the-writer · 3 years ago

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Can I request a fic where Elijah Mikaelson is in love with a human!Reader who isn't his usual type of woman. Reader is always getting in trouble and Elijah is trying to save

I love Elijah trying to save the women he love fics. Simping time baby.

Warnings: Fluff, A bit of angst, Elijah being a bit possessive, Hayley being a bitch, A bit of smut

You had been on your own since you were sixteen and taking care of yourself that was until you met Elijah Mikaelson one night at Rousseau's when he scared off one of your clients that followed you to the bar after you got off work. You shared a few drinks with Elijah sharing that fact you were a stripper and for once you weren't judged for it.

Since that night Elijah was became apart of your everyday life always looking out for you. At first it was sweet and you found him to be a gentleman but now you were annoyed.

"Long night?" Camille asked pouring you a glass of your favorite whiskey as you groaned.

"It would be if I could work Cami." You said downing your whiskey and Camille poured you another glass. Elijah had started to show up at your work paying for your whole shift which was a lot of money. Normally you wouldn't have a problem with it as many businessmen would pay for a stripper's whole shift but the other girls were starting to get jealous and your normal clients were scared off by Elijah.

"Elijah being a hand full?"

"Yes! I get at first he was being a gentleman but now he is getting on my nerves." You growled as you felt a hand on your back and you looked seeing it was Elijah.

"Thanks Cams but I am calling it a night." You said huffing annoyed paying for your drinks walking out and Elijah followed after you.

"Well you fu...." You were cut off by a every brave vampire had grabbed you and was about to bite you. Elijah was quick to kill the vampire then caught you when you tripped over yourself.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." You tell Elijah pushing him away making him smirk. Elijah knew you were annoyed with him and angry with him following you everywhere. But Elijah couldn't help himself for being drawn to you.

"Why do you deny that you are mine?"

"What?! I don't belong to no one!" You growled glaring at Elijah as he couldn't help but find you just gorgeous with the fiery anger in your eyes.

"But you are. When you let me feed from you." Elijah tells you as you glared harder remembering that night you found him hurt nearly bleeding out by your apartment building. You brought him into your apartment cleaning him up and letting him drink from you unaware that you became his.

"You can't hold that against me!" You yell at Elijah then a squeak came from you when Elijah was suddenly in front of you. Elijah put an arm around you gripping your chin kissing you pulling a mewl from you letting him deepen the kiss.

"I am not holding it against you. It is true, you belong to me and if it was up to me you wouldn't have to work again."

You were flushed heart racing as you looked at Elijah shivering as he cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb. You knew Elijah well enough now to know he wasn't a man to let go of something. So you swallowed deciding to give into Elijah completely, you gently tugged him down brushing your lips lightly against his.

"Then take what is yours." You whispered looking up at Elijah seeing a dark glit in his eyes. Suddenly you were pressed up against a bedroom wall as Elijah kissed you roughly. Moans and growls filled the room as you both tore at one another's clothing.

You choked out a moan arching when Elijah had set a rough brutal pace once one the bed. Elijah wasn't going easy on you as if you had broke whatever self control he had.

"Elijah.." You panted out cupping his face kissing him hungrily feeling him grabbing your legs moving higher placing one leg over his shoulder the other in the crook of his arm. Elijah leaned back looking down at you seeing your hair damp by sweat face flushed gripping his sheets tightly.

"You take me so well. Is my baby going to cum again?" Elijah asked watching you throw your head back mouth hanging open shaking when he began to rub your clit.

"I.....I..I can't." You tell him turning your head burying your face in the sheets as Elijah smirked leaning down not letting up one bit.

"Come on baby. Just one more." Elijah says latching onto your neck as you shook and whined under him. You felt the air leave you arching off the bed clinging to Elijah biting down hard on his shoulder as you cummed hard with Elijah growling lowly following after.

You fell back against the bed feeling weak as you panted Elijah smiled brushing the hair from your face as the bite mark you left was healing. Elijah gently kissed you then peppered you neck with kisses.

"If....I knew...this was what...I get for giving in....I would have done it months ago." You panted as Elijah chuckled getting up and gently began to clean you up.

"Any lesser man wouldn't have cared as much as I did." Elijah said pulling you into his arms smiling as you kissed his chest.

"Next time....I'll show you my talented mouth." You tell him trying to leave marks on his neck. Elijah laughed pulling you closer kissing you gently.

"I look forward to it baby." Elijah said rubbing your bare back kissing the crown of your head. You woke before Elijah and carefully got out of bed stealing one of his botton ups then grabbed your panties glad he didn't torn them.

"You must be the stripper." You heard someone say as you had gone down to get a snack and water. You looked up seeing it was Hayley, you knew who she was as Elijah told you about her when you indulge him with a private dance.

"I'm......"

"Look I don't care. We both know what you are. A gold digger. Let me guess you let Elijah pay for a few dances, then manipulated Elijah into bed to use him."

You swallowed hiding the pain of what Hayley said and normally you could take it as you were use to wives coming to yell at you. But this hit harder for some reason and you didn't know why. You looked at Hayley.

"No...that's not...what I'm."

"Really? Elijah had spent a lot of money on you and now you are sleeping with him. I think we both know that is a lie. Elijah needs someone better that isn't some lonely stripper." Hayley said as you stood up leaving the kitchen as Hayley stood there arms crossed.

You were on autopilot putting your pants on grabbing your shirt not changing out Elijah's and grabbed your purse looking at a sleeping Elijah. You decided to not leave a note and left the compound not seeing that Hayley was watching.

"Are you sure?" Your boss asked frowning handing your last check to you. You had told your boss that you were quitting and thank her for taking such good care of you.

"Y...y...yeah I just...need something new." You said normally a strong woman but Elijah had soften you. As you used to now being taken care of, able to feel safe for once but what Hayley said hit too close.

"Okay suga but know you are always welcome back. You're family." Your ex boss said hugging you and you hugged back. You said goodbye to the bartender, Andy, and bouncer Daniel both were like big brothers you never had. Once you got your boxes in your car you left New Orleans.

It hurt to leave but you knew you could run into Elijah a little too easy and you knew you'll crawl back to the vampire. You drove until you reached New York finding a tiny apartment and settled down there.

"Where could she have gone?" Elijah growled as Freya was doing a locater spell which was being proven difficult. It only took Elijah an hour to noticed you had left not only his side but the city.

"What is going on?" Hayley asked seeing an angry Elijah and smirking Klaus as Freya was trying to locate something.

"Elijah's little dancer had ran away."

"Oh? I didn't know you were dating." Hayley said thinking she kinda knew who Klaus was about but she wasn't too sure.

"Little wolf they weren't dating. More like the girl belongs to Elijah. But for some reason she left." Klaus said smirking devilishly making Hayley nervous thinking Klaus may know something.

"Belonging to him?"

"I saved her from a client that was too pushy. We talked shared a drink then a month later I was wounded bleeding out in front of her building. She cleaned me up and allowed me to feed from her."

"Since then she is the only one he feeds from unless it is a blood bag." Klaus said surprising Hayley as she looked at Elijah.

"Is that a normal vampire thing?"

"Yes and last night I finally got her to fully give herself to me. But someone has sow seeds of lies in her so once I bring her home. I will find who drove her from me."

Elijah's tone was dark and Klaus stood seeing the red door opening. While Klaus knew what you meant to Elijah, he didn't think you were red door opening worthy.

"I am sure whoever's responsible brother, didn't know how much Y/N meant to you." Klaus said slowly as Hayley looked at Klaus shocked. Now Klaus over heard that morning now he was planning to tease Hayley but now knowing Elijah's red door was opening. It was different.

"Do you know something Niklaus?" Elijah asked calmly too calm as Klaus knew he could take Elijah, Klaus knew Hayley wouldn't have a chance. And before Klaus could say a word he was glad Freya interrupted.

"She is in New York." Once those words left Freya, Elijah was gone. Klaus looked to Hayley.

"Pray Elijah, gets her back Hayley as there is so much I can do to calm Elijah." Klaus said as Hayley let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

You had just gotten off work feeling sore as the new place you danced at was more demanding but the tips were bigger. You locked your apartment door dropping your bag and keys on the hall table and kicking off heels.

"I would have gotten you a bigger place." You nearly screamed when you saw Elijah sitting in your chair.

"Elijah wh...." You were cut off by Elijah giving you a heated kiss lifting you up by your thighs. You couldn't help but moan into the kiss as Elijah growled deeply taking you over to the chair he was sitting in.

"Now baby. Why did you leave and don't lie." Elijah said pulling you closer as you swallowed seeing the dark glit in his eye the same one he had before fucking you silly.

"I ran into Hayley and well......" You trailed off insecurities you had long forgotten came flooding back as you realized the reason it hurt was because you were in love with Elijah.

"Baby, what happened?" Elijah asked gently wiping the tears at fell from your eyes. You took a shakey breath looking at Elijah seeing his eyes soften.

"Hayley called me a gold digger, telling me that I used you and told me you need.......someone that wasn't a lonely stripper."

Elijah felt a flare of anger for what Hayley had done but focused on you placing soft kisses on your skin reaching up behind you unzipping your dress.

"If anyone needs better baby. It is you, remember I chased you. You could never use me as you are too good for that." Elijah says undressing you slowly until you were in only lingerie.

"But...." You were silenced by a kiss as Elijah held the back of your head gently tugging on your hair. You moaned softly rolling your hips but Elijah stopped you with his other hand.

"I need to punish you for leaving and coming to me about this problem."

"Before you can I just say I love you Elijah." You tell him flushing as arousal flooded your veins seeing the dark look Elijah gave you.

"I love you too baby." Elijah says softly picking you up as he stood up taking you to your bedroom. Indeed Elijah's punishment was one you wouldn't forget as he took you to a place that you didn't know could be reached.

You panted laying on Elijah as he traced random patterns on your bare back as you both whispered I love yous. You both knew you weren't going to let the other go any time soon.

#rere's stories #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson fluff

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queenshelby · 4 years ago

Text

ME AND THE DEVIL – PART TWO

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 6,459

Warnings: Smut, Mention of Domestic Abuse and Racism

Tag List (Tommy Shelby):

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@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph

-------

The Charity

Usually, you didn’t accompany your husband to political events but, tonight, was different. It was a big night in Westminster.

One of the judges from the Queen’s Bench invited several members of parliament to a charity ball. The ball was hosted by the judge at his rather large mansion which he inherited from his father who was a well-known politician before he passed before the First World War.

The judge was a smart man but had recently fallen under the spell of your husband. He favoured national socialism after the stock market crash in the previous year and your husband’s ideals aligned with his.

It was of the upmost importance for your husband that you attend this function with him. It was all about appearances and, since the judge believed in the value of marriage, Oswald wanted to present himself as the perfect husband to his young wife.

Most importantly, the judge wanted to fund Oswald’s campaign with the view to gain power if your husband’s movement gained enough traction. Oswald wanted you to befriend the judge’s wife to ensure that the funding would be forthcoming.

The judge’s wife was a lady and rather wealthy herself. She was also involved in charitable organisations and you had her before, but only briefly.

Despite some familiar faces, there were also people who attended the ball who, apparently, you hadn’t met before. Or have you?

Just after you entered the large mansion and were greeted by the host, your husband introduced you to his acquaintances, one of whom in particular caught your interest.

‘Y/N, may I introduce you to my acquaintance Mr Thomas Shelby, the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists’ Oswald said, causing your heart to skip a beat. You knew from Ada since your last encounter that Tommy was a politician. But, you had no idea that he was a fascist and member of your husband’s party.

‘Mr Shelby, this is my wife, Y/N Mosley’ he added in which moment Tommy’s looked at you as if he had seen a ghost.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs Mosley’ he said after clearing his throat. It was obvious to you that he had to quickly collected his thoughts.

‘Likewise, Mr Shelby’ you said as you shook his hand. You remembered his large and masculine hands. In fact, you remembered them very well. They were doing amazing and pleasurable things to you.

‘Would you like me to get your wife a drink while you arrange the meeting with Judge Kutchner. I could introduce her to my wife and they could talk about the upcoming charity event, eh?’ Tommy asked your husband as he had been inundated by several invitees of the host.

‘That is very thoughtful of you, Mr Shelby. I would appreciate it’ your husband said politely.

‘Alright then. Follow me, Mrs Mosley’ Tommy said as he took your hand like a gentleman and walked with you towards a group of women who included his wife Elizabeth Shelby and the judge’s wife Marianne.

‘Did you know that I was Oswald’s wife when you made an advance towards me?’ you asked curiously as he walked with you across the dancehall.

‘Of course not. Otherwise, I would not have touched you’ Tommy said with a serious face and somewhat flustered, causing you to giggle.

‘What’s so fucking funny, eh?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. It’s nothing’ you said, still giggling.

‘I don’t see the humour in this Y/N. What you are doing is dangerous. Your husband is a dangerous man. But I am sure you know this’ Tommy said firmly as he stopped near the champaign fountain before handing you a glass of champaign.

‘What I am doing is it dangerous? If I recall correctly, it was you who kissed me first’ you said.

‘Yes, which I did before I knew who you were married to. You could have fucking told me, eh’ Tommy said.

‘Well, if it’s any consolation to you, I didn’t know you were my husband’s acquaintance in business. In fact, I didn’t really take you to be a fascist when I met you. What is it that you are doing for the orphanage anyway? Wiping clean your conscience after supporting racism and cheating on your wife?’ you asked sharply as you quickly drank the entire glass of champaign.

Tommy grinned at you. He was carrying a sheepish smile across his face.

‘I don’t have a conscience Love. I do bad things. That’s just who I am. But, by listening to you, I take it that you do not support your husband’s cause Mrs Mosley?’ Tommy said as if he was asking a question.

‘Well, Mr Shelby, despite of you what you are telling me here, I don’t think that you do either’ you said firmly, but Tommy ignored your comment entirely as you finally approached the group of women he was intending to introduce you to.

‘I would prefer if our little indiscretion at the library could stay between us eh’ Tommy whispered.

‘Agreed’ you sighed quietly just before Tommy introduced you to his wife Lizzie.

You talked to Lizzie for a quite some time and you could tell that Lizzie and Tommy had problems of their own. Their marriage was a marriage for show just like yours and Oswald’s marriage. Lizzie hated to be at this event just as much as you did and you soon became to learn of her past from your husband, who felt it necessary to tell you. He also saw the need to tell you that, many years ago, he slept with Lizzie when she was still a prostitute and you became to wonder about Tommy’s motives involving himself in the fascist movement. How could he work with your husband after your husband acted the way he did, rubbing his past relations with Lizzie into Tommy’s face every chance he got.

But, perhaps Tommy didn’t care. After all, it was evident to you that Tommy had married Lizzie simply because he had to. Their child was born just after they were married and in a position like his, you could not have children with someone who you weren’t married to. It was the norm and common practice.

In some way, you were thankful that you weren’t able to conceive even following many attempts by your husband to get you pregnant. At least this way, you were hopeful that, once your husband’s party gained power, he would decide to leave you for another woman. Divorce was less frowned upon if you didn’t have children. After all, who could deny an important man like him to have children of his own if his wife was infertile.

With these thoughts running through your head, the remainder of the evening went somewhat uneventful and you and your husband left at around midnight.

After you went to bed, he arranged for a prostitute to come by the house. This wasn’t unusual and it didn’t bother you. In fact, you switched off to the sounds he made when sleeping with another woman in your house. Sometimes you felt as though he was doing it in order to hurt you since you weren’t a very attentive wife. But you didn’t care. In fact, that night, your thoughts were lying entirely with a different man. His acquaintance, Thomas Shelby, by whom you were intrigued by despite his association with the party.

Little did you know that, soon, you would meet him again in a familiar location.

The Library

It was a week after your last encounter with Tommy at the charity ball that you decided to continue your work at the orphanage library.

You’ve been stacking books on shelves all day until, at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, you saw a familiar face.

‘Mr Shelby, what a surprise’ you said as you finished packing up the last of the books and noticed Tommy walking towards you through the library hall.

‘Good Evening Mrs Mosely’ he said as he approached you.

‘Good Evening….What are you doing here?’ you asked politely.

‘I had a meeting in the area and thought I would stop by to see how the library is coming along’ Tommy said, keeping his distance from you this time around.

‘Oh, I see, your conscience is playing tricks on you Mr Shelby, eh?’ you said sheepishly, causing Tommy to laugh.

‘Perhaps…’ Tommy said before taking a pause. ‘This is for you Y/N. I thought you might like it’ Tommy said as he handed you a book entitled ‘Changing the way we think – A contemporary view on the Revolution’.

‘Well, thank you Mr Shelby. But please enlighten me as to why are you are gifting this to me? I am sure you know that this book favours communism’ you asked.

‘It became obvious to me that this would take your interest and I suppose that I have a conscience after all. In fact, I felt as though I needed to apologise to you for my actions during our last encounter here at the library’ Tommy said.

‘I am delighted to hear that you are taking some responsibility for what happened between us Tommy’ you laughed. ‘And, I accept your apology’ you added with slight giggle before asking him whether it was ok for you to call him by his first name when your husband wasn’t around. You hated formalities.

Tommy agreed and told you that he had to leave shortly. According to him, he had business matters to attend to.

‘Can you stay for one drink at least? I have Whiskey’ you said.

‘Sure. I suppose why not’ Tommy said as he sat down on a chair near the desk in between the stack of books that haven’t been sorted yet.

You pulled out a small bottle of Irish Whiskey and two glasses from behind one of the shelves.

‘My husband doesn’t allow me to drink anything but champaign at public events. However, unbeknownst to him, I would, occasionally, indulge on a glass of his very expensive whiskey after work with your sister Ada’ you said sheepishly as you poured you both a glass.

‘Well, don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me’ Tommy smirked as he took one of the glasses from your hands.

‘Now, Y/N, I am intrigued. Did you actually choose to marry Oswald Mosley?’ Tommy asked.

‘No, I didn’t. But he chose to marry me. My father is the chief of police in London which should explain to you why I was his chosen wife’ you explained. ‘Although, no doubt, you are also aware that he would, on occasion, choose other women to keep him company as well’ you said shyly.

‘I’ve heard your stepmother is one of those other women he chooses to interact with privately on occasion. Is that true?’ Tommy asked sheepishly.

‘You know it is’ you laughed.

‘And it does not bother you?’ Tommy asked.

‘That my husband fucks my stepmother, my sister and every second whore in London? No, it does not bother me. At least this way he keeps his hands of me’ you said with a laugh.

‘I consider your husband’s taste when it comes to women rather questionable’ Tommy chuckled.

‘And why is that?’ you asked.

‘Because he’s got you. What does he want these other women for, eh?’ Tommy said.

‘Because he likes variety. Despite, I cannot give him a child. He said I am not worth his attention or effort’ you said after taking a deep breath.

‘The bruises, on your arms and neck, was this him then?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod, small tears beginning to run down your face.

‘Yes, we argued and when I do not agree with him then this is what happens’ you said rather upset.

‘I am sorry’ Tommy said as he handed you his handkerchief so that you could wipe away your tears.

‘Are you? Because you seem to be reinforcing his ideals and you aren’t exactly faithful towards your wife either’ you said.

‘Perhaps you have gotten the wrong idea about me Y/N. And, for what it’s worth, me and my wife have an arrangement in place which permits me to be with other women. I would never hurt her. Also, no doubt you are already aware as to why I married her, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘So, you don’t love your wife?’ you asked.

‘No, I don’t love my wife. But I trust and respect her and I promised her that I will agree with her request for a divorce after the elections. Perhaps your husband would be prepared to do the same’ Tommy said.

‘I think you know my husband better than that Mr Shelby’ you chuckled. ‘He will never let me go unless I am buried in the ground’ you said.

‘You might be surprised Y/N. I know that he’s taken an interest in another woman who supports his ideals’ Tommy said.

‘Well, perhaps there is hope for me then Tommy…’ you said before taking a deep breath.

‘You know, I often overhear Oswald talking, over the phone. He recently made allies in Germany and he is getting involved with the right-wing party over there which seems to be gaining popularity. I am not sure whether you are aware of this Tommy’ you said.

‘Why are you telling me this Y/N?’ Tommy asked, his face serious.

‘Because I can help you’ you said.

‘Help me with what, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘With information. I have researched you after our encounter at the ball and, in the course of my research, I met a woman named Jesse Eden who was present in Birmingham during the assassination attempt on my husband. The man they believed to be the shooter was in France with you and, unlike my husband, I do not believe in coincidences’ you said.

‘What you are alleging is absurd and you need to be careful when dealing with Jesse Eden. You should not involve yourself with the communists behind your husband’s back’ Tommy said.

‘Thomas, my husband beats me and treats me like a common whore. I have nothing to lose’ you said.

Tommy took a deep breath following your comment. He was speechless over the lack of fear in your eyes.

For some reason, he trusted you and you reminded him a lot of his late wife Grace when he first met her. You were young and determined to do the right thing and, looking at you, took Tommy back in time when he allowed himself to become vulnerable and let his feelings control him.

It wasn’t something that Tommy wanted to admit to himself, but he cared for you in the most obscure way. After France, this was a rare occurrence but, in this moment, Tommy’s feelings of guilt and desire for you took over his reasonable thinking mind.

‘Can you get a copy of the call records from the phone at your house from the directory?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright, then perhaps we can help each other, eh? Meet me tomorrow at 7 o’clock at the steel factory on Watery Lane’ Tommy said.

‘If my husband is home, I cannot leave at that hour’ you responded.

‘I will make sure that he won’t be home until the early hours of the morning’ Tommy said.

You agreed with Tommy’s request and, over the next few days, you were carefully collection the records he had requested.

The Factory

At 6 o’clock, your husband left the house to meet with a woman. You were certain that Tommy had arranged this, but you didn’t mind.

You quickly put on your coat and got into your Bentley which was parked behind the house.

The drive took you thirty minutes and you arrived at Watery Lane slightly early.

The factory door was open and you walked inside, making sure that no one saw you.

‘Did anyone follow you?’ Tommy asked after he greeted you, causing you to shake your head.

You followed Tommy through the building. Not a single person was inside. It was only you and Tommy and Tommy was quick to take you to his office on the upper floor.

His office was large with a brown cedar desk in the middle of it and a dark red leather lounge, a brown cedar table and two leather chairs on the side beneath a large window.

He had lidded the fire in his office and it was obvious to you that he had been working from his office for quite some time before you got there.

You sat down on the lounge and took off your coat, placing it over one of the arm chairs.

‘You are hurt’ Tommy said as he observed another large bruise on your arm.

‘It’s fine Tommy, I am used to it. Perhaps I am just weak’ you said as some tears were running down your cheeks as you opened your bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

You handed the paper to Tommy. It contained the phone records from the last three days.

‘I will make this right Y/N. I promise’ Tommy said as he sat down next you.

Tommy handed you a glass of whiskey and took the piece of paper from you before wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

‘Jesse Eden was right’ you chuckled as you took a sip of the whiskey he had given you.

‘About what?’ Tommy asked.

‘That, deep down inside, you are a man with morals’ you said as you gently touched his cheek, catching him by surprise.

‘And you are stronger than you think Y/N’ Tommy said before giving you a gentle smile which was somewhat unusual coming from Tommy.

In that moment, you remembered your kiss and the short period of intimacy between you several weeks earlier, an accident of some sort and an escape from reality for you.

Where would things have gone if he didn’t ask your name and if you never knew his? Would you have broken your vows again by now, the vows that meant nothing to you?

‘You know Tommy, I just want to feel something for once in my life. Feel desired, loved and wanted. Perhaps I am just being selfish fighting this fight against my husband but I want more from life than just being married to a man like him’ you said.

‘Y/N, this has nothing to do with being selfish. You are doing the right thing. It’s for the greater good of many people. You will be free of him one day and, when you are, you will get to experience everything that you deserve. Desire, love, everything you want. I promise’ Tommy said as he cupped your face gently.

‘Tommy, the truth is that I don’t want to wait any longer to feel all these things. I know that I might not actually get out of this alive if my husband finds out that I betray him and I don’t want to miss out’ you said.

‘So, what are you suggesting?’ Tommy asked.

‘Make me feel desired Thomas, please’ you said with need in your eyes. ‘I know you want to be with me. I’ve seen it in your eyes and I felt it that day at the library’ you said.

Tommy knew that this was a very bad idea, but he wanted you as much as you wanted him. He wanted you since the day he met you at the orphanage. You intrigued him just the way Grace intrigued him when she first started to work at the Garrison.

After taking a deep breath and unable to hold back his desire any longer, he leaned in and kissed you gently but passionately.

His soft lips pressed against yours while his hands caressed your face gently. It was unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced.

‘Is this what you want?’ Tommy asked as he broke the kiss for a moment.

‘This and so much more Tommy, please’ you said as you crashed your lips back onto his.

You had only ever been with one man before and this was your husband, who was brutal and hadn’t pleasured you, not even once. It was all about him when he forced himself on you and, luckily for you, the last time he made you sleep with him was almost a year ago.

With Tommy, you could feel desire. It was mutual desire for each other.

‘Alright…just another secret to add to our list of secrets, eh?’ Tommy smirked after he broke the kiss and placed a blanket and some pillows onto the floor in front of the fire place.

You looked at him curiously before he took your hand and guided you over towards the fire place before kissing you again gently.

‘I will give you what you want. But this needs to stay between us Y/N’ Tommy said as a soft smile ran over his lips.

‘That goes without saying Tommy’ you smiled while Tommy removed his suit jacket, gun holster and shoes.

You also slipped off your shoes but did not know what to do next, looking at Tommy full of questions.

But, within a split second, your questions were answered by Tommy’s actions. He caught your body to his, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your breasts into his chest.

Not knowing what to say, you reached up and pulled his mouth down to yours again. The touch of his warm lips brushing against yours caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you once more. His kiss was soft, gentle, and then became more urgent as you opened your mouth to accept his tongue. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt as you kissed him back fervently.

‘You are beautiful’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart before kissing you again, deepening and lengthening it all the more, showing just how much he wanted you. This was the first time you were told this by a man and it felt amazing coming from him.

After your lips finally drifted apart, he simply smiled at you. The smile that crossed his face warmed your trembling limbs and hid your excited nervousness. You smiled in return, not trusting your voice. Of course, you wanted this every bit as much as he did. You wanted him more than anyone you had ever known, but now you felt somehow unstable when finally faced with having sex for the first time with a man you had actually chosen to be with.

The bravado you usually wore like a shield seemed to desert you, and even though you remained fully clothed, you felt naked under his heated gaze. You suddenly worried about your inexperience, your body and if he would still look at you in the same way once you were stripped of your clothes. God, this was a mistake. He couldn't want you the same way that you wanted him. You didn't know how you had managed to convince yourself that this could work.

Tommy saw the panic of insecurity rise in your eyes, and he reached out to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his mouth to yours again. It was a slow kiss, deepening as his desire built even further. He knew he needed to go slow with you, take you gently after all you’ve been through.

A hot rush travelled through your body as you responded to his kiss and felt him toying with the buttons on the back of your dress. One button at a time popped open under his fingers, and the cool air wrapped itself around your shoulders as he slid the bodice of the dress down to expose to his gaze the lace bra that you wore. You gasped as you felt him nuzzle into your neck and trace your collarbone with his lips.

Tommy groaned at the sight of you, trailing his fingers over the delicate white lace bra.

‘Are you wearing panties that match?’ Tommy asked with curiosity.

‘Yes, of course’ you moaned as he brushed his fingers across your lace-covered nipples. They surged under his caress and sent piercing streaks of arousal to your pussy.

His caress was like a hot spark through the fabric, and his touch excited you like you hadn't believed possible from your past experiences.

You didn't know how you would withstand his hands on the naked skin of your breast as you felt him reach behind you for the clasp. You felt the pressure of the material release, and without the slow unveiling you had expected, he pulled it away quickly and your breasts spilled out, ripe and firm, as the lace garment fell to the floor.

‘God, you're beautiful’ Tommy said again. But this time, his voice sounded more than husky, scratchy even, as if it was raw with the heat and lust he felt for you.

You felt a blush creep up your neck in response to his comment. The urge to cover your chest with your arms was strong, but you resisted.

Instead you decided to take the words he had uttered and bolster your flagging self-confidence to ask for what you wanted now.

‘Touch me please, Tommy’ you groaned. You'd hoped your voice would sound strong and self-assured. Unfortunately, you couldn't pull it off, and it shook with pure anxiety.

‘You couldn't stop me now if you tried’ Tommy groaned, cupping your breast and leaning down to swipe his tongue across one hard nipple.

‘Oh god Tommy’ you whimpered, as he teased the hard, little bud with his lips and rolled the other stiff nipple between two fingers. Your legs felt like they might collapse under you.

‘Maybe you better lie down eh’ Tommy grinned as he guided you onto the blanket and pillows on the floor.

Tommy was quick to remove his shirt but left on his black suit pants for now before leaning down over you and kissing you once more.

His lips soon trailed down your neck and returned to your small naked breasts.

There was intense look on his face as he took one of your thus-far neglected breast into his warm mouth. He licked and sucked, alternating between the two stiff peaks, until you trembled and gasped on the edge of something you'd never experienced before. You felt feverish with excitement. Your mouth was dry, but your body was more alive than it had ever been before. Without him having touched your pussy, it was wet, yet felt as if it was on fire and throbbing with need.

Shivers of anticipation shot up your spine, and you sucked your breath in raggedly as he dragged his insistent tongue down, letting it trail over your belly and to your navel. He pushed down on the bottom half of your dress, and you lifted your hips off the bed to help him remove it. Tommy took his time exploring your body, trailing his fingers and mouth over your belly and thighs, before running them teasingly over the lace of your panties, making your moan loudly.

‘Take off your panties. I want to see all of you’ Tommy said. His voice was thick with longing.

The panties were moist, evidence of your excitement, and you were certain that he could smell your arousal as you hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of the lacy white panties and wriggled out of them. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly excited by the expression on his face, as he watched you offer your body to him. His expression showed eagerness, pleasure, even greed, you thought. There was no sign of the trepidation you had expected to see there.

Without taking his gaze from you he stood up and opened his belt and the zipper of his pants and finally shoved them down his legs with his underwear. He kicked them off and stood before you.

You couldn't stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Tommy's body was well-toned, with a broad chest and slightly tapering waist. Short hairs nestled between his nipples and ran in a thin wisp upwards towards the top of his chest which was covered with some army tattoos.

But it was his cock that held your attention. It stood, swollen and erect, thrusting out from his dark pubic hair. Your breath caught in your throat. It appeared impossibly thick and long, with distended veins running along the shaft. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of it, but your stomach churned in repressed fear. None of the intimate male parts you had seen before had ever looked quite so imposing. Could you take it? Would it fit? Oh God, you would have to stop him... Would he let your stop him now?

As he joined you again on the blanket in front of the fire place, his hands moved slowly and tenderly over your body, pushing the anxiety from your mind as they wandered over your contours and cupped your pussy gently. You groaned softly as his fingers caressed the lips, wet with your arousal, and then slid between their moistness into the entrance of your pussy. Tommy buried his face against your neck, kissing it gently.

You moved your pelvis in time with his probing fingers. They were curious and insistent and were creating marvellous sensations in your pussy.

You groaned and spread your legs wider, allowing him easier access.

‘Oh God, Tommy, that feels so…’ Your voice faded as he took immediate advantage of your pleasure, dipping his finger deeper inside your wetness. Your hips jerked suddenly at the familiar but yet pleasurable sensation of being penetrated by is thick fingers.

Tommy felt the heavy beating of your heart. Its rhythm matched his own, but the throbbing in his cock was wilder than he could remember. It took every ounce of his willpower to restrain himself and not plough into your immediately. The sight of you, naked beneath him, drove him crazy.

Unable to restrain his need to taste you properly, he kissed down your body again so that he could let his tongue slide through your glistening labia and taste your delicious essence as his lips sought out your fleshy clit.

‘Oh, Tommy! Oh, shit!’ you moaned, squirming under his mouth.

No one had ever kissed you there, in your most intimate area.

Your nails dug into his scalp to hold him there. You didn't want him to ever stop. His tongue was creating sensations in your that you had never experienced before. Masturbation had always been good for you. You knew how to use your fingers expertly to bring yourself to climax, but this was different. It was warmer, wetter and more teasing, with an intense build up that made you want to thrash around and cry out in pleasure and frustration. You rocked your pelvis against his mouth, your inhibitions fading into the background of the sensations he gave you. You moved with him, demanding more as he licked and explored you.

A squeal of pure pleasure tore from your lips as your spasms started deep inside. You trembled and gasped at the sensations that raced through your body to your pussy and exploded in a wave of pleasure that radiated back throughout your body again. As the waves of sensation crossed each other, you swore you would pass out. You held on to the here and now, enjoying the wild ride, and when you opened your eyes at last, you found him smiling at your, the edges of his mouth glistening with your juices.

‘Holy fuck, Tommy’ you said as he moved back up towards you which is when you boldly reached out to caress the rigid cock pressed into your side, eager at the thought of giving him the same pleasure he had just given you.

It was hot and hard in your hands, and a small trickle of precum dribbled from the tip. Moving to a better position, you bent your head and tentatively stroked the velvety shaft against the side of your soft cheek, before dragging the tip of your tongue over the crown. Very gently, you drew it into your mouth and sucked slowly, lovingly, savouring his meaty thickness. You were surprised by your own enjoyment of this. You hated doing this to your husband when you were required to, but with Tommy, it was different.

‘Fuck, I'm hanging on by a thread here, Y/N, and I won't be able to hold out if you do that much longer’ he grunted after about ten minutes of you pleasuring him and as he watched your latch your soft lips onto his throbbing hardness. You moaned, overcome with the sensation of having him in your mouth and the taste of his excitement.

‘Then don't. I came, so come for me, Tommy. I want you’ you said after lifting your lips from his cock and looking up at him through hooded lids that only served to stoke the fire of his desire to even higher levels.

‘No’ he groaned and pulled you from his cock, pushing your back onto the blanket.

‘The first time I come tonight will not be in your mouth’ he grimaced.

A rush of adrenaline shot through you as he moved between your thighs. You felt the heat coming off him as he nudged himself against the moist outer lips of your pussy.

You spread your legs, and he rubbed the head of his cock over your slickness.

He hesitated for a second as he struggled to get himself under control then, leaning forward and supporting himself with his arms, he pressed ahead, pushing himself into your wetness.

His attention was focused on the warm, wet feeling of your lips surrounding his cock. They opened slowly to him, and he slowly pushed himself into the velvety depths of you.

‘Oh, Tommy’ you moaned. Your voice was tremulous and shaky as he filled you and stretched you beyond what you had known.

Hearing your tremulous moan, he thrust forward sharply and groaned as he slid all the way up inside you.

You winced and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying out.

Your breathing was fast and shallow as your pussy opened and stretched to take all of him.

Despite the soreness and feeling of being overfull, it was a wondrous moment for you, finally knowing what it felt like to be with a man who you desired.

It wasn’t long until you became accustomed to the amazing fullness, yet he struggled to accustom to you.

‘Fuck, you're tight’ Tommy gasped at the snugness of you, barely holding onto his self-control. Now that he was in deeper, surrounded by your wetness, he was careful not to move, to let you get used to the feel of him inside you.

It almost killed him not to plunge repeatedly into you. His cock felt harder than it ever had and your cries of pleasure, knowing no one had ever made you feel like this, made him feel more virile, more potent than he ever had.

‘I'm okay Tommy. You don't have to hold back’ you said as you breathed into his neck, clinging on to him tightly.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and raked your nails down his back as he sunk deeper into you. The eyes looking down at you were tinged with concern and fire, but you wanted his desire, his passion, to feel beautiful in his arms. You wanted him to make love to you, but you also wanted him to fuck you.

Tommy moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock back and forth inside you, letting you get used to the rhythm.

You moved with him, intuitively pushing your pelvis upwards as he slid into you. Each time he buried himself in your pussy, your clit was trapped against the upper side of his shaft. You moaned loudly at the exquisite sensations and ground your pussy up against him even harder, pumping back faster, until the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and the squelching sound of your passionate fucking sent a wave of need and pure lust through him.

‘Oh yes Tommy’ you gasped, licking his neck and biting at his shoulders.

‘Don't hold back. Please, I need you to fuck me’ you gasped again, unbelieving that you had said the words that chased around your brain out loud.

your words caused the blood to rush through his veins and pound in his head. He stared into your desire-filled gaze but, when his eyes locked with yours, a deeper connection hit him with more force than he had ever known with any woman since Grace.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Tommy moaned. Your name tore from his lips as he plundered your body. His tongue drove into your mouth, sweeping inside, tasting, commanding, and taking what he needed. He could no longer restrain himself and he let himself go, fucking you the way he'd wanted to ever since you had appeared in his life. With a growl of pure lust, he pumped his hips, plunging into you over and over. He couldn't get deep enough.

‘Oh god Tommy, don’t stop’ you moaned as he drove into you. Your body arched and undulated under his fevered lovemaking. The muscles of your pussy clenched and spasmed around his cock as a great bubble of pleasure rose up from your toes, engulfed you and burst into shards of explosive release that had you shuddering and sobbing.

‘Fuck’ Tommy moaned at the sight of your pleasure. Your face and torso were flushed, your breath raspy, as you writhed beneath him and clawed at him while your body peaked again.

You cried out his name once more, and he lost it. A roar exploded from him as his body crested and he toppled over the edge. His cock throbbed and pulsed, spilling his anguish and a steady stream of cum into you.

After he came down from his high, he collapsed on you gasping, trying to regain his breath.

After he gently pulled out of you, you could feel some of his warm cum leak from your most intimate part as he rolled to the side, lying next to you.

He held you close as your head was resting on his chest.

‘I am sorry for the unpleasantness of the location and the hard wooden floor’ Tommy chuckled.

‘There is no need to be sorry Tommy. You’ve just given me more pleasure than anyone before’ you said, causing Tommy to smile.

‘I promise that, next time, we will fuck on a bed, eh…a comfortable bed’ Tommy smirked.

‘So, this wasn’t a one off then?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t have to be, if we are careful’ Tommy said, thinking that, how much worse could it possibly get. You are already conspiring against your husband together so, when you meet to exchange information, you might as well sleep with each other.

But little did Tommy and you know that your husband may soon find out about your indiscretions when nature takes its course.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

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blackacre13 · 3 years ago

Note

debbie being jealous with lou and tammy’s friendship

“She still snores doesn’t she?” Tammy gasped, putting her wine glass down on the coffee table. “She swears she’s never done it. But God, it’s almost every night!”

“Every night,” Lou agreed, nodding as she let out a chuckle. “More wine?”

“Please,” Tammy hummed.

The blonde smiled, grabbing the near empty glass as she headed into the kitchen, laughing again at something Tammy had said.

“Deb should be home in the next hour or so,” Lou called out as she popped the cork on a fresh bottle of wine. “Gonna order Chinese. What’s your usual?”

“Just get me whatever Deb gets!” Tammy called back over the sound of the record player spinning to silence, the needle bumping against the vinyl with quiet clicks.

“Oh, she really had you under her spell, didn’t she?” Lou laughed, grabbing the wine glass and the Chinese food menu off the fridge before padding back into the living room.

“Is this weird?” Tammy asked aloud suddenly after studying the menu for a moment.

“Ordering Chinese food?” Lou scoffed, arching an eyebrow.

“No,” Tammy smiled. “That I like you. That we get along.”

“Think it just proves that Deb has good taste in women,” Lou winked.

“That’s too much,” Tammy giggled, sipping at her wine. “I’d like to pretend we both haven’t seen her naked.”

“Touche,” Lou snorted. “But I don’t think it’s weird. What’s that bullshit of their being different people for different seasons in your life? I didn’t know Debbie back then. Makes me happy to know that she was with someone who loved her and treated her right. Better than finding out you’re some asshole, right?”

“I knew I liked you,” Tammy laughed again, raising her glass to the blonde. “Cheers to you, Lou Miller. May Debbie snore less and share more than she did with me.”

“I’ll toast to that,” Lou grinned, clinking her whiskey glass against Tammy’s wine glass.

“And what are we toasting?” Debbie asked, slipping into the room as she closed the door behind her, her eyes flickering between the two blondes on the couch.

“Your snoring,” Tammy giggled as Lou elbowed her in the gut.

“Hey, honey,” Lou smiled, putting her glass down as she stood, walking over to the brunette and circling her arms around her waist, kissing her softly.

“Tammy’s here?” Debbie whispered into Lou’s neck, her heart thumping wildly.

“Her dick of a boyfriend cheated on her,” Lou whispered with a frown. “Broke into the good wine for her.”

“You didn’t have to do that, baby,” Debbie murmured, playing with a piece of Lou’s hair thoughtfully.

“Course I did,” Lou shrugged. “Tam’s family. And besides, I definitely give better advice than you.”

“When it comes to men?” Debbie smirked.

“When it comes to anything, Ocean,” Lou winked, kissing Debbie once more before pulling away. “Come on, come say hello to Tammy and hear the terrible tale. I’ll call in our food while you play catchup.”

Debbie gave her a nod, stripping off her coat and sitting on the couch as Tammy broke into a babble, but she couldn’t help her eyes following Lou as she leaned over Tammy’s shoulder to take the menu from her, or the way Tammy’s hand brushed against Lou’s shoulder as she thanked her. And she hated the way she wondered how long Tammy had been there. What they had talked about. What secrets they had shared.

They were the two people in the world who knew her best and she trusted the most, but something about seeing them together, laughing, armed with drinks, and giggling at Debbie’s dispense had her turning green with envy without much of a catalyst at all.

And Lou seemed to notice this at once, studying Debbie as she studied the two of them. The blonde sending her a silent conversation, with nothing more than the twinkling of blue eyes and a smirk ghosting across her lips before it faded away into her glass as Debbie nodded along to Tammy’s story.

I know. Lou seemed to be saying. You can’t help it. It’s alright.

Debbie read people. It’s what she did. She knew the good. And she certainly knew the bad. She had to. It was her job. And she knew there was no bad here. No evil intent. But her mind still reeled like there was. Jealousy still seeped through her veins. Even if Lou understood. Even if Tammy understood. Even though there was nothing happening at all.

This friendship made Debbie vulnerable. Made her human.

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

Like we did - John Winchester smut

The one where John hears you touching yourself and calling out his name.

Warnings: masturbation (m,f), the social construct of virginity, p in v, oral sex (f), dirty talk.

A/N: so this is for a request I got a while back! I hope you guys like it!

John’s P.O.V.

Another restless night. That’s what I was expecting when I got back to the bunker after a single dose of whiskey while the boys tried to find someone to go home with. Usually I’d be right there with them, trying my own luck in hopes of getting laid, but not tonight.

Tonight, the only person I wanted to bring back home was already there, but she wasn’t waiting for me.

Shit. I should be in hell for even thinking about her like this. She was Sam’s best friend, after all - young enough to be my daughter. I shouldn’t desire her like I did. And I should definitely not fantasize about her while she was sleeping in the bedroom right next to mine.

But fuck, I was already doomed anyway. This wouldn’t make a difference in my permanently tainted slate.

Resigning to my fate and hoping that by giving my cock at least some sort of release I’d maybe be able to sleep, I stripped down to nothing and let myself fall down on the bed, staring at the ceiling as I tried to force any remaining guilt to disappear. I deserved this. It had been a lousy, stressful week, and I needed a way to get the tension out. Besides... she would never even know.

My dick throbbed in my fist as I slowly began to jerk myself, in no rush to get to the end as I sorted through the memories that I kept tucked away in a hidden corner of my mind specifically for nights like this one. The shock of meeting her at a run-down dinner, all short skirts and smiles as she shook my hand like I was seventy years old. How she looked with my jacket when I gave it to warm her up after we found her again during a hunt. The little smiles she gave me and the way she looked up at me from under her eyelashes whenever I said something that could be considered suggestive, right before Dean or Sam faked being repulsed by it. The smell of her when she had just showered, the fog from the warm water kind of filled with her, with her essence. I was convinced it was enough to make any living man hard, and if my sons didn’t notice it, it’s because they were dumbasses.

But I was happy that I didn’t have to worry about them taking advantage of the fact that I couldn’t pursue her and ended up dating the girl. I don’t know what I would do with myself - or actually, to them - if I had to deal with seeing my own sons’ hands all over the object of my desires.

In the middle of my walk down pleasure lane, I got so distracted by the feeling of my own fist tightened around my member as I now considered all of the stuff I wished I could do to her, that I barely heard it the first time it managed to slip through the gap in the door.

The second time it floated around my bedroom though, it made me halt my movements all at once, at first startled to hear someone else in the bunker before realizing just who it was.

Y/N. And by the sounds of it, she was doing the exact same thing as me.

The realization awakened a new wave of desire inside of me, and I had to bite my lip to stop a groan from escaping. If I could hear her, that meant she could hear me too.

Starting my movements again, I kept them slow enough to still be able to hear anything that might come from the room next door, thinking back on all the times I’d brought someone home and fucked them while thinking of her. Had she heard that too?

“Oh, God.” Sweet Lord, have mercy on my soul. Hearing her moans was one thing, but actual words, coming out in her voice when it was all breathy and whiny like that? I didn’t think I’d be able to keep hearing this without bursting.

I picked up my movements when I heard her whimper before saying another word, but I stopped abruptly when I couldn’t figure out what it was. Was it… Did she fucking moan out “Shawn?”

My heart was pounding as I sat up on the bed, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Who the fuck was Shawn? When did she have the time to meet someone ever since she joined us? Or maybe it was someone from her past? Either way, I did not like this at all…

“JOHN!”

This time the word was screamed at such a volume it was impossible to mistake it for anything else. It was my name. My name. She had just cum… screaming my name.

Before I could even realize what was happening, my feet had taken me out of my bedroom and right into hers, and I could only imagine what went through her mind as she tried to fight the post-orgasm haziness to understand what the hell was happening, as I burst through her door completely naked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

John looked more feral than human as he stared at me, nostrils flared and cock looking painfully hard, but I was still under too much shock to properly react. Besides pulling the covers to hide my body from his gaze, there wasn’t a lot I could do - I wasn’t even sure of what I wanted to do, in the first place.

He looked so hungry, staring down at me completely naked, licking his lips like I was some prized meal he’d been dreaming of tasting. “I can smell your juices,” he commented, and I groaned in embarrassment, but still couldn’t deny the way my entire body tingled, as if calling out to him.

And when he knelt on the bed, pulling me to meet his lips, that’s when I knew. I’d give him my body, my soul, whatever he wanted to keep getting intoxicated by the taste of his lips on mine.

“You are such a fucking tease, did you know that?” I seriously hoped he didn’t expect me to answer because as his hand trailed down my body, the sheets covering it slipping off of me, his fingers approached my leaking folds and I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t do anything else other than feel the way my clit pulsed in desperate need, like I hadn’t just cum thinking about the very man who was now touching me.

“Been dreaming of having my cock in you for so long,” he whispered against my skin, right when his digit met my throbbing nub, and he swallowed down the whimper I released by forcing my lips to dance with his. “Do you want it, sweetheart? Will you let me fuck you?”

It was so difficult to think with his thumb running circles over my clit, his beard tickling my skin as he rubbed his nose on the crook of my neck, but the question was much too important not to wake me from the spell he was casting on me.

“Y-You want to have sex with me?” John chuckled at my inquiry, that deep, comforting rumble that always made me feel warm inside, but I couldn’t feel relaxed by the familiar sound at that moment.

“How can you even doubt that?” He asked, reaching out to take my hand in his and I didn’t understand why until he was curling my fingers around his hardness, showing me just what he wanted me to do to his erection. Then he took off his hand, leaving me struggling to keep up with the movements he briefly taught me while waiting for my answer.

“B-Because n-no one has ever wanted to before.” The admission came easier than I thought it would, mainly because I was transfixed by my own actions and the member I held so carefully with my sweaty fingers. But then his hands were covering mine, steering me away from my new hypnotizing hobby, calling out for my attention.

“What the fuck do you mean?” I’d been around John for long enough to know that despite the seemingly harsh words, there was absolutely no heat in his tone, only curiosity. But I didn’t know what to say. I figured he’d understood what I meant, just didn’t believe me, and well… What explanation could I give other than the same one that had intrigued him?

When he realized I wouldn’t offer any further clarification, his eyebrows shot up, understanding clear in his features. I could easily hear my hearbeat spiral out of control, scared that this would be a turn off for him, that he wouldn’t want me anymore. I couldn’t even believe that he wanted me in the first place, what the hell would John Winchester see in a little virgin girl, anyway?

“No. There’s no fucking way.” Still, there was no sign of anger or repulse in his voice, only genuine surprise. I remained speechless, looking up at him with fearful eyes, until his arms reached out to embrace and pull me onto his lap. “Fuck, come here. Let me kiss you.”

This time when he pried my lips open to accept his tongue, it was sweeter, even gentle. There was still hunger, it was clear that he wanted me - I could feel his desire in the hard member that was pressed to my navel, instinctively making me grind against him.

The whimper that escaped my lips had him smiling against my mouth. “You really are innocent, huh? Been driving me crazy all this time, and you had no idea.” A new flood of wetness came and I gasped as I struggled to hold myself on his shoulders, his rough hands forcing me to keep up with the movements I’d been making.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me with an expression that I couldn’t define, an expression that made my heart beat faster than it ever did before. “And you really have no idea, huh?”

I felt inclined to shake my head this time, and his hand cradled my face to caress my cheekbone before his thumb rested against my lips. Instinctively, I opened them to suck it, humming at the taste of his skin, not completely understanding why his sweat tasted so delicious to me.

John’s P.O.V.

I grabbed her face and connected our lips once more, the desire to kiss her far too strong for me to control it. “Don’t know how you’ve managed to remain a virgin,” I commented after we broke apart, grinning at her bashful expression. “But you won’t stay that way for too long. What do you say, hm? Will you let me take you, Y/N?”

The way she perked up at my words was unmistakable. She liked what I was saying, she liked the idea of being mine. I knew it even before she nodded, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Good girl,” I growled, leaning over her to make her release that lip by forcing my tongue inside of her, and I only let her go when my own lungs were devoid of any air. “You’re mine now, darling. And I’m never letting you go.”

She didn’t seem to mind that, but I’d started to grow needy, sitting there with both of us completely naked, making out like two teenagers. So I started touching myself, wanting to relieve some of the tension my member had been accumulating ever since I heard her scream my name.

“Why are you staring, kitten?” The smirk on my face made it clear that I knew what she was so fascinated about, but I still wanted to hear her say it. Despite the pout on her face at my meanness, her pretty eyes were so easy to read.

She wanted me, just as much as I wanted her.

“I take it you’ve never sucked a dick before, huh?” She shook her head but reached out to touch me, and I groaned at feeling her soft hand encircling my member. “God, you’re such a little angel and a fucking tease at the same time.”

A whimper escaped her lips, and that’s when I realized this sweet, innocent girl got aroused by my dirty ass mouth. “Oh, sweetheart… We’re gonna have so much fun together.” I kissed her once more, my hand wrapping over hers to stop her jerking movements.

“I can’t hold myself back for long enough to teach you how to suck me off, darling. But we’ll always have time for that tomorrow.” A pout still on her beautiful face, she still nodded. “And fuck, I really need to eat that pretty little pussy. Lay back for me, kitten.”

She hesitated for a bit, looking back at her own bed before slowly dropping against the mattress, her legs still over my own. “Open those up. Let me see my meal.” She moaned out loud at my order, but it wasn’t clear if it was the idea of being seen as something for me to eat or the tone that got to her.

“So fucking beautiful,” I whispered, running my knuckles over her spread lower lips before using my digits to open her up to my gaze. I knew she was getting embarrassed with my curiosity, the way she fumbled over the bed made that pretty obvious, but I wanted to explore her through every sense I had.

So in went one finger, until I was knuckle deep inside of her, and the way her breath hitched was just so adorable that I had to chuckle. “I know, I know…” My other hand went to keep her legs spread, but also caress the inside of her thigh, hoping to calm her down. “I bet it already stretches you more than you’re used to, hm? Cute little girl.”

Every single word of my last sentence was punctuated with a harsher thrust of my finger, but once I was done talking, I returned to the previous gentle, soft strokes. And then I leaned down to finally get a taste of her.

“Oh God…” I moaned against her pussy, not quite believing just how sweet she was. “You are delicious, darling. I’m gonna eat you whole.” With my mouth open wide, I could encompass the entirety of her little cunt, and it brought me endless pleasure to see just how wrecked I could make her with a few swipes of my tongue.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t really fathom the amount of pleasure I was receiving. It was like nothing I’d felt before - beyond anything I could have provided for myself, above my wildest dreams.

The moans that left my lips sounded almost foreign to my own ears, and they seemed more like strangled cries than those beautiful melodic sounds I usually heard in porn. It was hard not to compare myself to the little I knew about the world of lust, but it was even harder to care about any deficiencies I may have when John Winchester was eating me out like I was his last meal on Earth.

Another finger slowly made its way inside of me, and I screamed - more due to the surprise than the stretch. Still, despite the smugness in his gaze, John asked from between my legs, “Do you want me to stop?”

I only realized he was mocking me after I had already blindly reached out for his locks, keeping his face against my cunt, my legs wrapped around his head. “No, no, don’t stop.”

He obliged, keeping his fingers slowly moving in and out while his tongue lapped my wetness, and I could feel the fire rising inside of me. “No biting your lip, kitten.” I hadn’t even realized that was what I had resorted to do, in my efforts to keep my moans in. “I want to hear you.”

And I tried, I really did. But there were already so many new emotions I was being exposed to, it was hard just letting myself go. And he noticed it. I witnessed the way his eyes darkened, the satisfied smirk disappearing to leave a hungry and terrifying expression on his face.

“You’re usually such a good girl for me… Always following all of my orders, never even questioning me once. What happened?” A shake of my head was the only answer I could provide, hoping my pleading look was enough to get him to take some mercy on me.

But I knew John Winchester, and he wasn’t a merciful man.

“I want to hear you whining for me, sweetheart,” he explained, the hand that wasn’t occupied with my pussy traveling up my body to squeeze a breast before it plucked my lower lip from my teeth, and I choked on his fingers when they buried themselves in my mouth.

Just his confession was enough to have me clenching around his digits, but it still wasn’t enough. I was too tense, the weight of the situation sitting heavily on my lower belly, where all the pleasure seemed to concentrate. I was having trouble breathing, and it felt like the climb towards that high was never-ending.

“Relax for me, hm? I need you to trust me.” I was squirming when his voice reached me, acting like an anchor, bringing me back to the reality of the moment instead of leaving me afloat on the foreign sea of sensations I was exploring. But his words shocked me to open my eyes and meet his, and that’s when I realized just what he meant.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he continued, and I knew. I was never afraid when he was around, and even now, with so many different feelings coursing through me, I knew there was nothing to fear. Especially since he was the one gifting them to me.

“I trust you,” I admitted, and the second his eyes softened, sparkling with something that resembled love, I relaxed in his arms, finally allowing the waves of bliss to crash and take me with them.

Ironically, after my muscles went lax, they tensed before they could relax again. That sea of pleasure, I was now drowning on it - and I never wanted to come up for air.

That is why as soon as I was able to speak again, I pulled on John’s hair once more, desperately pleading, “Please… Fuck me…” The sight of my wetness dripping from his chin just added to the need that seemed to only grow exponentially inside of me. “John, I need you!” I confessed, and that was all he needed to climb up my body and rub his member against my sensitive clit, making me twitch under him.

Surprisingly, for as much as it hurt when he started to slide his length inside of me, it wasn’t a terrible pain. It was a stretch, and at first, I was sure I’d never get used to it, but there was so much to be excited about, I could only focus on the good.

Like the weight of his body on top of mine. The way he looked deep inside my eyes like he was seeing the most beautiful work of art. The feeling of his skin underneath my fingers, as I clawed on his back, in need of something to anchor me to this experience.

“You feel so fucking good.” Once again, it was his voice that brought me home, making me realize just how connected I felt to the man inside of me at that precise moment.

And then he started moving, and I just lost myself to him.

John’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t control myself, and I couldn’t decide on what to focus on: the feeling of her tight walls rhythmically clenching around me, the warmth of her sweaty skin under my fingertips, or the taste of her under my tongue as I nipped on her jaw, my fingers rubbing her nipples until they were but tight buds.

“Virgin little pussy but you take me so well.” By now, the words left my mouth before I could even process them, taken over by the passion I felt for the woman underneath me.

“Hold tight, darling,” I asked when I realized her instinctively jutting her hips up to meet mine, a clear sign of her discomfort beginning to fade and giving place to strong, untamed passion.

When her arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders, I picked up the pace, still trying to remain gentle as I searched for her sweet spot each time I bottomed out inside of her. She was still so innocent, and so sensitive. It didn’t take long at all to bring her to another orgasm, and when she reached that high, I couldn’t stop mine anymore.

I came so fucking hard a roar escaped my chest as my arms trembled with the strain to keep myself up so I wouldn’t just suffocate her. But when I was still trying to come back to Earth, it was her hands that guided me to heaven, cradling my bearded cheeks as I slowly tried to control my breathing.

“I’m gonna keep you chained to the basement, kitten,” I warned her, becoming completely hypnotized by her sweet little giggle when she threw her head back to laugh. “No one’s going to get near you again.”

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