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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

Text

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

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

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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All In 12

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate.

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs.

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides.

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.”

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks.

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you?

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that.

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder.

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?”

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.”

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.”

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long.

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful.

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down.

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there.

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?”

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point.

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.”

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.”

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.”

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?”

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other.

“Be honest,” he insists.

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out.

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?”

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong.

“Erm, purple, I guess but--”

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?”

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely.

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.”

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.”

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh.

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.”

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.”

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.”

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?”

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily.

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.”

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.”

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.”

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?”

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles.

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out.

“Last one?” You whisper.

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.”

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.”

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.”

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.”

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?”

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin.

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says.

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.”

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.”

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same.

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps.

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain.

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser.

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here.

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you.

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs.

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception.

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not.

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door.

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip.

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...”

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in.

“I don’t know,” you murmur.

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?”

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?”

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.”

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away.

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges.

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.”

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.”

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else.

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #all in #he's a charmer isn't he #marvel #winter soldier #avengers #mcu #captain america

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misfitgirlwrites · 8 months ago

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Alastor Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?

Since the choice of writing all three won my poll, I'll start with this one because it was in second place! Next is Lucifer!

Here is my first contribution to the Hazbin Hotel fanfic dump, please call me MG, and may we all enjoy our obsession together 🕺🏽

CW: none!

You could know of Alastor before the appearance of Hazbin Hotel or you could be hearing of him for the first time when you decide to walk through those hotel doors.

He wouldn't pay you any mind at first, just like any other sinner residing in the hotel. After a while though you'd pique his interest a bit. It could be something you said that he overheard, or something you do that he just so happened to catch that day.

It would make him pay more attention to you, but you wouldn't notice right away. It'd always be convenient situations; everyone being in the same room and he decides to stay longer than usual. Joining conversations with you and Charlie would have when talking about the hotel.

You always had unique ideas to try and get the hotel traction, and they amused him.

After a while, he would start talking to you on his own.

This would confuse you at first, since you two haven't really had any real conversation outside of anything hotel-related. It seemed Alastor decided he wanted a bit more than that.

You certainly didn't mind it once you could tell he was genuine with this interest. It started from small conversations as you passed each other to nightly talks at the bar that would last for hours.

Alastor would grow to really enjoy the routine of seeing you everyday. Soon, you wouldn't be seen without him close behind.

He would let you accompany him when he would usually spend the time alone from everyone else.

The first time you initiate physical touch would be when he starts to focus on his feelings for you. One day, you'd ask to hug him, and he'd agree much too quickly for his own liking.

After he hugs you once, please expect more of them. In private, he would 100% just cuddle you close to him but will deny it if you bring it up.

Alastor knows he has some sort of feelings for you but will refuse to acknowledge it for a while.

Because let's be for real? This guy? Having a crush on someone? With Vox attempting (and probably succeeding?) to watch him 25/8? Simple math states that's called a weakness.

Alastor wouldn't have many choices. He could cut interaction altogether, but that certainly wouldn't benefit him that much. He wouldn't have any worries, sure, but he'd miss you, and he knows that.

And he's never denied himself anything before if he wanted something so why start now because of potential bumps in the road? Especially bumps he was sure that he was more than capable of handling.

Alastor still wouldn't openly express any romantic feelings right away but his time spent with you becomes a regular occurrence.

He would so go to Rosie and talk to her about you (they're besties, don't you love it?)

She'd most likely be the one to call him out on his crush and push him to actually do something about it.

THAT is when he'd actually "fuck it" and decide he does in fact want you :)

It wouldn't be anything grand, but the bastard has such a way with words, so it's certainly romantic.

A tad bit possessive but 🤸🏽‍♂️

He simply can't help himself when it comes to you~

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Alastor or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all! 💚

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor #alastor altruist #mgwrites

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incognitopolls · 27 days ago

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Happy Halloween!

Ask hours are over! As always if you have questions about how the blog is run or anything like that, feel free to ask, but I'm no longer taking questions about individual missed/deleted polls as it's after 6pm EDT!

For today only, I’m answering queries about polls that haven’t been posted. If you’ve submitted a poll in the past and haven’t seen it come out, send me an ask and I’ll let you know if there’s a reason I didn’t post it, or give you a link if it was posted and you missed it.

Please:

Send queries by anonymous ask, not by comment or DM

Tell me what your original submission was– I won’t be able to find it by your username or any other way.

I'll try to answer questions that are sent before 6pm EDT (UTC-4) today, October 31. After that cutoff I won't be able to take any more of these questions.

Poll submissions are still closed. This is for anyone who has submitted in the past but hasn't seen their poll come out.

Blacklist/filter the tag #submissionqueries if you don't want to see these posts when I'm answering questions.

#not polls

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year ago

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Say Please

This will fill the Begging space in my @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: Ben knows just how to torment Y/N.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Pretty filthy smut. Dom/sub. Dom Ben (Soldier Boy) sub reader. Fingering. Rough fingering. Oral (m/f receiving). Cum shots. Facial. Slight humiliation. Demeaning language. Extreme orgasm denial. Extreme edging. Begging. Spanking (mentions of belt spanking). Semi-public sex. Waking reader with oral sex and fingering (so, slight somnophilia). Unprotected PinV sex. Mentions of punishment.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 2,285

A/N: So, don't ask me what corner of my brain came up with this filth. I couldn't tell you. But I hope you enjoy the dirtiness.

It can be read completely separately or it can be read as a companion piece/sequel to Say Thank You. I envision it as the same reader, but there's nothing in either fic that says they have to be read together. They're both reader inserts, but Say Thank You is written with a second person POV (you), and Say Please has a third person POV (she/her).

Also, I promise not every entry for my bingo card will be complete smut. 😁 Incidentally, if anyone has any requests that spark in their mind from the bingo prompts above, don't hesitate to send me an ask.

Soldier Boy One Shots Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

“Ben, please.” Y/N’s voice was begging desperately, but she still whispered low enough to be nearly inaudible above the droning speech of the man discussing the latest polling numbers of Vought’s superheroes. It was all statistics, and percentages, and Ben was bored stiff, so he’d returned to his favorite distraction - seeing how much he could torment Y/N.

She sat beside him now at the far end of the room, and beneath the table, Ben was slowly pushing inside her, just giving her the tip of his middle finger while swirling his index around her clit.

He was simply continuing on with her torment from earlier that morning.

She’d woken up to the feel of him sucking her hard, aching clit between his lips while penetrating her deep and rough with all four fingers. She must have been moaning harshly in her sleep because her throat hurt. As consciousness dawned, she felt her orgasm cresting, seconds away from erupting. Her sheets were soaked beneath her and she screamed out Ben’s name harshly just before he ripped his hand away from her and left her bereft and begging him to come back and finish her off.

But Ben had simply smirked. “Come over here and swallow me down, princess, and maybe we’ll see.”

He crooked a finger in her direction as he shifted to lean back on his elbows so he could watch her crawl towards him and then slide her lips down his cock. She took him deep into her throat, hoping that making him cum would make him feel the need to reciprocate.

But she should have known better.

Instead, when he was close, Ben pushed her off his cock and back against her pillows. He stood up on the bed, towering over her like a Titan, and pumping his rock hard cock in his big hand only a few times before spurting white and hot onto her body. He covered her completely; her cunt, stomach, tits and face were all painted with his cum, and it left Y/N shaking for her own release. But he bucked his hips reflexively a couple more times, and then stepped down from the bed.

He sat down, naked, in the chair next to the bed and held a finger up as she started to rise. “Uh uh, my sweet little whore. You’re not going anywhere til you clean yourself up. Start by pushing some of my cum into your cunt.”

She looked at him, slightly confused, but he just smiled, his bright green eyes shining with the power he knew he held over her.

“Push it in.” He repeated. “Use your fingers.” His voice hardened slightly. “But you will not cum.”

Y/N felt her skin flush, burning hot - part passion, part humiliation - as she scooped his still warm seed off her lower belly, and soft mound, pushing it along her seam and into her pussy. She was a sopping mess as she continued to push his thick cum into her hole. Her body thrummed, and her clit was so sensitive she hissed every time she accidentally brushed against it.

Ben’s next command made her almost want to cry. “”Rub that cum around and around that pretty, pert little clit of yours. Turn towards me and spread your legs wide so I can watch you.”

Y/N whimpered, but did what she was told, pointing her feet towards him before drawing up her knees and then pushing them down toward the bed as she took more cum from her tits and pushed the rapidly cooling liquid towards her core.

“Spread that pussy wide for me, doll, and show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

Y/N bit into her bottom lip as she circled her clit with her middle finger. It ached and throbbed so hard she felt like her whole body might burst if she couldn’t cum soon. But as though he was psychically linked to her body, Ben knew when she was, once again, mere seconds away from reaching her climax and he barked at her again.

“Don’t fucking cum, little whore. You’ll regret it.”

He didn’t expand on his threat, but he didn’t have to. Y/N was all too familiar with his punishments. His hands were strong and heavy and they stung badly when they landed on her ass again and again. His belt was leather and it felt like it was licking fire onto her skin when Ben cracked it against her, leaving wide, red stripes across her thighs, ass, and tits.

But some of his worst punishments were based on denial. One time when she came without permission, he wouldn’t let her cum for a month. Her body had been just one, raw, aching nerve by the time the month was up.

So as she circled her finger around her clit, her need made tears fall, but she held herself back.

After a few more minutes of watching her, Ben was hard again and he ordered her onto the floor. She got on her knees but he lifted his chin towards her as he stroked himself. “No, lay down and fuck yourself with your fingers.”

She did as he asked, and he came to stand over her again. He stared down at her with a look of power and raging desire swirling together in his gaze.

“Do you want to come baby?” He asked as he thumbed over the head of his cock.

Y/N moaned involuntarily. “Yes, Ben, please! Please!”

Ben’s mouth quirked up in a cocky smile. “Say that again, slut. Beg me.”

Y/N nodded, willing to do anything. “Please Ben!” She cried out.

“Please what?” Ben asked, continuing her torment.

“Please!” Y/N practically screamed. “Please let me come.” Her breath stopped as she stared up at him, her fingers moving slowly in and out of her hole. She knew his answer by the gleam in his eye, before he even said it.

“No.”

Y/N moved her head back and forth in denial of his refusal. Once again Ben came hard, and spurted across her whole body, aiming more for her face this time. By the time he was done, she was a sticky, shaking mess.

“You can stop now.” Ben told her and she pulled her fingers out of her swollen body. She could feel her core muscles quivering, her clit was painfully swollen and throbbing with need.

He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Go get showered and dressed. I need you with me in this boring ass meeting I gotta go to and we leave in a half hour.”

That had been nearly two hours ago, and Ben had spent every minute of their time in this boardroom teasing and tormenting her fevered brain, and writhing body. He’d started with simple, seemingly innocent touches on her lower back, and then slightly higher, wrapping his hand around her upper arm and brushing his fingertips against the side of her breast. Her thin white blouse did nothing to protect her from the electric charge of his touch.

Eventually though, when they were seated, he’d begun moving his hand beneath the cover of the tabletop. He set his gloved hand on her bare thigh and then slowly moved it higher and higher. Soon the pads of his fingers were rubbing against the soaked cotton of her panties, and then pushing them aside to sink a finger into her, while circling her clit with another.

Now, she was doing everything she could not to come, not to cry out her desperation; she was biting her lip so hard she could taste blood. Finally Ben pulled his fingers out of her and stood up.

“I need the room, gentleman.” He said with absolute authority. The dozen men in the room just stared back at him where he stood at the end of the long table. They seemed surprised for a moment before he slammed his fist down on the table. “Now!” He barked, and the men couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

When they were gone Ben clicked the lock on the handle and lowered the blinds in the small window beside the door. Then he leaned back against the door and folded his arms over his chest. Somehow, in his emerald green Super-suit, he managed to look even more intimidating than he had earlier. She hadn’t thought that was possible.

“Get on your hands and knees on the table.”

Unlike the men, Y/N immediately jumped up to follow his command. She climbed a little awkwardly onto the table.

“In the middle.” Ben directed.

Y/N moved to the middle and stayed there, waiting for his next order.

“Turn that gorgeous ass and pussy in my direction.”

She shifted around, trying not to disturb the paperwork that still sat there.

“Push your skirt up to your waist, then pull your panties down. Lean forward on your elbows, forehead to the table.”

Y/N complied; she could feel the way her slick ran down her thigh, and she knew she was dripping onto the table. Someone was going to end up with her cum all over his financial report.

“Fuck me.” Ben growled. “Those lips are just glistening, princess, just begging for attention.”

“Please, Ben…” Y/N mewled and she honestly wasn’t sure if she was begging him to fuck her with his mouth, or begging him not to.

“Say that again.” Ben’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest. She felt him come up behind her and she gasped harshly as she felt his palm crack down hard onto her ass cheek.

“Say it, Y/N. Beg. Fucking beg.”

“Please, please, please.” She chanted and she prayed he didn’t ask her again what she was begging for, because she didn’t even know anymore. She just needed him - needed him to end her torment, needed him to give her release, to let her let go; she needed to stop the ache.

With her forehead pressed to the table top she pushed her fist into her mouth to cut off her scream as he leaned forward and slurped his tongue over her, from clit to cunt. Then he stepped back slightly, and used his two hands to spank both her cheeks at once with a fiery, painful sting.

But the pain was nothing compared to the ache of need shuddering across her whole body. Her cunt ached, yes, but so did her nipples, throbbing with every beat of her pulse. Her skin ached to feel him touch her, her lips ached to feel him press his mouth against them.

He returned his mouth to her pussy again, continuing to slurp and lick, and then spearing her deep with his hard tongue. He pulled back a half dozen more times, continuing to redden her ass.

In the end, Y/N was just a sobbing, aching, dripping thing, pussy high in the air, ass decorated with bright red handprints, just begging and begging him to end her torture.

Ben stood back to admire his handiwork for a little while. He circled the table looking at her from all angles. He approached her from the front and lifted her chin in his palm, contemplating her tear-stained, flushed cheeks, her lust blown pupils, and her lips - swollen and puffy from biting them over and over.

Her body, her face, her shaking, quivering cunt, her thick, red, fleshy ass - all of it was a work of art. He’d molded and sculpted this beautiful woman into this new creature, this fuck doll who was entirely his. He knew in this moment that there was nothing she would deny him, there was nothing she wouldn’t let him do to her, and that knowledge was an incredibly powerful feeling.

His cock was rock hard beneath his suit and he decided to be merciful and end her torment and his. He dropped her chin and walked back behind her. He unzipped and pulled his cock out. He climbed up onto the table, on his knees behind her; then he turned her so that they were looking down the length of the table. Paperwork and stationery went flying to the floor.

He slid his fingers up through her slick and gathered it on his finger tips. With his other hand he yanked her head up and back before reaching around and shoving his fingers into her mouth. She gagged on them, but tried to swallow down her own cum. He shoved his fingers down her throat a couple more times just to hear that sound.

Finally he shoved her face back down against the table and slammed himself home in one hard, swift surge.

Y/N did scream this time, and then he could feel it, her cunt clenching around him, tight and then tighter, her climax milking him. She came and came, screaming and cursing the whole time. Her orgasm was long and intense. And Ben smiled as she started to come down, and he smashed his cock head against her cervix.

Y/N was shaking from head to toe, and he wasn’t sure if it was the lasting effects of her climax, or the knowledge that punishment was coming.

“You disobeyed me, my little whore.” Ben said, slamming into her one more time before he came deep inside her with a growl, bucking harshly and slapping against her ass.

As soon as he finished he climbed down off the table. Y/N turned her face to him, and he reveled in how wrecked she was, her expression begging pitifully.

“Please, Ben. I’m sorry. Please.”

Ben smiled, wickedly and without sympathy. “Not yet, baby, but you will be.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

#soldier boy #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x reader #jacklesversebingo23 #heed the warnings

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are now finished with the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament; The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament is ongoing. Submissions for hot vintage women are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket. If you are here for the Dracula Daily polls, those will be posted regularly following the progress of the Substack newsletters.

The finals of the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be posted just after midnight on Sunday, June 2nd, and last 24 hours. All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hottie in it if you need to search for someone in particular.

FAQs:

“Where is [my favorite hot woman]?” It depends. Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for her? If you still haven’t found her, either nobody submitted her or she did not fit the criteria of being a movie woman from 1910-1970.

“Can I still submit hot women?” No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in women you wish had made it into the bracket. I can’t do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.

“I have additional propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. You can also tag me in posts (this is the best way to submit gifsets or fancams). I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot woman, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from before 1910 or after 1970). I also don’t accept propaganda of TV appearances unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves. Please break long asks full of photos up into a few short ones so I don't clog everyone's dashes. I watch every video I receive to tag for trigger warnings, so please don't send me super long videos.

I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hottie shouldn’t even be included in the tournament because of things they did in their lifetime, please read my take on it here.

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s stances, problems, or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t submit my own propaganda, and I don’t change what’s submitted beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. If you hate a poll bio or a pic, let me know and send me something I can use instead.

"Where are the hot men?" Most of them are in the shadow realm! Toshiro Mifune was crowned the winner of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament, and the rest were banished where the sun never comes. You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), or you can do a tag search to find out what happened to a specific hot man.

"Tell me more about this shadow realm?" There is too much lore. Send me an ask about this.

"What's up with the vents?" There is too much lore. Send me an ask about this.

"Why are you always talking about James Cagney?" Bing Crosby took him out in Round 1 and I've never forgiven him.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

If you want to search through the different rounds of the tournaments, or see the schedule for future tournaments, I'm including links under the cut.

Relevant tags:

First round of the hot men—#round 1 archive, #round 1 blog

Second round of the hot men—#round 2 archive, #round 2 blog

Third round of the hot men—#round 3 archive, #round 3 blog

Fourth round of the hot men—#round 4 archive, #round 4 blog

Quarterfinals of the hot men—#round 5 archive, #round 5 blog

Semifinals—#TWO KINGS archive, #TWO KINGS blog

Finals—#hot men finals

First round of the hot women—#ladies 1 archive, ladies 1 blog

Second round of the hot women—#ladies 2 archive, #ladies 2 blog

Third round of the hot women—#ladies 3 archive, #ladies 3 blog

Fourth round of the hot women—#ladies 4 archive, #ladies 4 blog

Dracula polls: #dracula daily

Fifth round of the hot women—#ladies 5 archive, #ladies 5 blog

Other featured tags: #housekeeping (organization updates), #family lore (personal anecdotes in asks relating to the hotties or stories about sharing this poll with family members), #hollywood creatures (pets named after old movie stars), and #silly times (what it says on the tin).

Tournament schedule (may still change or adjust):

Hot & Vintage Movie Man Tournament (completed)

Hot & Vintage Movie Woman Tournament (ongoing)

Dracula Daily movie cast polls (ongoing)

Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

Scrungly Little Guys tournament (gender neutral)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pits sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

#new masterpost!#housekeeping

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artificialbreezy · 2 months ago

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YOU WRITE ABOUT KIDNAPPING AND KILLING PEOPLE

you and Tina “omfg read our new fic where Noah and the boys kidnap and murder people left and right”

I’m a kidnapped victim btw, tw or not, it’s still not okay.

And you continue and continue to write about it as if that isn’t triggering for people WHO HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN KIDNAPPED

SA ISNT OKAY BUT MURDER AND KIDNAPPING IS APPARENTLY

SA, KIDNNAPING, MURDER

SHOULD NOT BE WRITTEN EITHER BUT YOU DO IT ANYWAYS YOURE JUST AS FUCKING WEIRD

And before you put words in my mouth.

I do not condone SA, I am a victim of it, that woman should have put her warnings properly, she shouldn’t have written about it in the first place.

But you shouldn’t write about kidnapping and knives when it’s ALSO TRIGGERING FOR OTHER PEOPLE.

hi! let’s talk about some stuff and not yell, can we do that? great.

okay so yes, i do write dark content. however, every piece of dark content i write is tagged, with a read more so no one sees anything they don’t want to see, and i always give more warning right before the tag of what is under the cut.

now, there is a huge world out there of dark content in books and smut. it’s common, it’s not weird. it’s pretty normal at this point. however, just like those books, i give a trigger warning. every. single. time.

if i forget or i miss something, someone always tells me and i correct the tag.

people have the option, and opportunity to not read what i’m posting.

if my content is triggering for you, please by all means block me. protect your peace. i don’t want you to have a shitty time here because of the content i post and the content my followers enjoy.

i know dark content isn’t for everyone. i even did a poll on my blog to see if people were interested in it. to which the winning was, “yes use cw” and i do. every time.

you’re right SA isn’t right. ever. and i would never put words into someone’s mouth babe. i’m here to listen to what people have to say. i’m here to talk it out, im here to help make it as easy as it can be.

i thrive to make my blog a safe space for everyone who interacts with me. and by the sounds of it, it’s not for you. i’m sorry it’s not, but if my content isn’t for you then please do not read it.

i encourage people to block tags, or just scroll past if they don’t like what i post. my feelings aren’t hurt over that.

however, dark content in terms of books and fanfic has been happening for a long time. i’m not the only one. and neither is @thefallennightmare who writes it.

#ask breezy

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months ago

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WIP Wednesday Thursday

Thank you for the tags @ace-turned-confused, @burntheedges, @justagalwhowrites, @punkassfrance, @sawymredfox

@almostfoxglove! I have a couple pieces I'm working on, relishing my brain actually working during my busy work season, but I'm warning y'all I could hit a wall at ANY time.

First Golden Girl chapter 3. They haven't left my mind. I have so many ideas for them. Down bad Dieter FOREVER.

You’re still asleep. Splayed out across the bed, mouth slightly agape. Two days now he’s woken up next to you, feeling like he’s been in a dream. But, everyone eventually wakes up... reality always returns. He gently lays back down. His jeans annoy him, but he didn’t trust himself to sleep in anything besides them. Like a self-imposed denim chastity belt. He replays last night, the secret moments, half-spoken confessions, feelings and declarations swallowed down before they could escape. One day you’ll know. One day he won’t feel like he’s crossing a line. He just wants to do good by you. Today’s the day you open the proverbial door to hell, letting everyone know. But today, he has something to tell you: tomorrow, he leaves for Greece.

OOF.

I have about five different prompt ideas for @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno's Coffee House and I have zero clue what to do. So, I'm doing a poll with my ideas. Please vote. 👉🏻👈🏻

I know I'm late to this but I'm still tagging. If you've already done it, please tag me so I can see.

@schnarfer, @beefrobeefcal, @bitchesuntitled, @luxurychristmaspudding, @jennaispunk

@mothandpidgeon, @yxtkiwiyxt, @penvisions, @yopossum, @guiltyasdave ✌🏻

#wip #pedro pascal

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fictional-detective-tournament · 1 year ago

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Fictional Detective Tournament!

Rules:

Please only submit characters through the attached form.

The submission deadline is October 22nd.

As the name suggests, no real people. If you have an ambiguous where it’s someone playing a character in a roleplay, feel free to explain how they count as a fictional character and not as the real person playing them and I will consider it.

I will accept different versions of Sherlock Holmes on top of regular Sherlock Holmes as long as they’re intended to be different from regular Sherlock Holmes. (Ie Fate/Grand Order Sherlock Holmes, Moriarty the Patriot Sherlock Holmes, etc.)

I am aware that this tournament has been done before. I do not mean to disrespect anyone who has run this tournament before. I simply would like to run one myself because I love detectives and want to spotlight some of the lesser known ones that I love, as well as ones that are submitted.

Please do not submit characters from media where an author who is openly problematic is still alive and actively profiting off of the work. (Harry Potter, Rurouni Kenshin, etc.) This is my first time trying this, so I don’t have a banlist prepared, hence the broadness. I will look over characters after submission and if I feel that a piece of media could fall under this, I will ask for further opinions.

I will also take characters who aren’t explicitly referred to as detectives if they spend a lot of time in the media they’re from investigating and or trying to solve a mystery. There will a section in the form for justifications and explanations if necessary.

Characters based on real people are allowed as long as they aren’t meant to actually be the real person they represent.

No OCs. Otherwise I would be tempted to include my *7* detective OCs. But feel free to tell me about your detective OCs in the asks and maybe I’ll run that sometime.

Please denote if the character you want me to accept is from an 18+ source. I will accept them if there are SFW pictures of them, I would just like to know so that I can be careful when searching and can tag the polls with them accordingly.

Characters auto accepted because they are the host’s blorbos: Lord El Melloi II/Waver Velvet, All the detectives from the ADA from Bungo Stray Dogs plus Yukito Ayatsuji from Bungo Stray Dogs Another, the main quintent from Tantei Gakuen Q, Lady Love Dies from Paradise Killer, Shinichi Kudo/Conan Edogawa from Detective Conan, and the main characters of The Swifts: A Dictionary of Scoundrels (Please read this book.) However, I will accept propaganda for these characters! If I don’t get any, I will write some myself, but I appreciate hearing other people gush about characters I love.

Please be respectful of everyone involved. People being rude in the tags will be blocked.

The form is here!:

About the Host!

I’m Zero! My main blog is at @zero-on-the-clocktower . I’m 19 and use any pronouns. I love detectives and mysteries in general and am happy to give you recommendations if you’d like.

#tournament #character tournament #poll submissions #submissions open #detectives #fictional detectives

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nobodysdaydreams · 1 year ago

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For my Wolf359 fans: I have an earth shattering theory about Blessie! 🪴 (Specimen 34)

As many have deduced from my recent poll, Blessie has become my favorite character in Wolf359. And as typically happens when I hyperfixate, the brain bees have activated, leading me to a groundbreaking theory about Blessie (trust me guys this is important).

So in my last reaction post during the episode where Mincowski hunts the plant, Hilbert doesn’t get a chance to say what species he mixed to create specimen 34. He makes guesses about the plant’s behavior based on how the species that he used to create the plant act (though he never names what they are), but doesn’t offer any more information than that. However, we know Blessie is intelligent and capable of understanding human speech, which means one of the species that it was created from was likely an intelligent life form; thus, Hilbert would need the DNA of an intelligent life form to make it.

And since the only intelligent life forms around for miles around are the humans on the station, it stands to reason that one of them is (technically) one of Blessie’s parents. But who?

Well, we know that Blessie, despite only being conscious for a few hours/days/weeks is resourceful, good at hiding out, and its first move was to take command of the ship and disable Hilbert (who it called “The Oppressor”). Once the plant discovered the other humans had locked Hilbert (“The Oppressor”) away after he betrayed them, it stopped attacking them and only reacted in self defense, refusing to kill Minkowski even when she wanted it dead. So the plant is instinctually trained for battle but also seems to follow an ethical code.

My conclusion? Specimen 34 was created in part with DNA from Reneé Minkowski. Which makes her conversation with Hilbert where she cuts him off before he can tell her what the “parent species” of Blessie actually are even more ironic.

Feel free to comment on the theory if you’d like. However, please don’t add spoilers to this post! I’m still listening to Season 2. If you want to follow my reactions or look up the ones I’ve already posted, you can do so by following the “#bods wolf359 reactions” tag or by following this blog.

UPDATE: I finished Wolf359 and wrote a fic on about this:

#bods wolf359 reactions #wolf 359 #w359 #hera wolf 359 #wolf359 #doug eiffel #renee minkowski #alexander hilbert #specimen 34 #blessie #the blessed eternal #long post

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year ago

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Treble winner - John Stones

Request: sth about Ucl night celebrations (asked by an anon) and, according to this poll, it's smut

Warning: smut, very smut with some foul words here and there

Tag list: @masonxomount @johnstonesfc @stonesyy @prideofpd

To say John made you proud with the astonishing season he just had would have been an understatement: you were absolutely buzzing the moment he won the Champions League, making him a treble winner.

You were a teary mess when you entered the pitch in a rush to hug and kiss him, falling right into his arms. You couldn’t care less about all the photographers and people who would have taken videos or pictures of you or made some comments, you were just a girl in love with her man that wanted nothing but showing all her love for him.

You just had some moments to yourself when his family entered the pitch holding your baby girl that looked nothing but adorable in her City- blue tulle dress, bought especially for the occasion. She was there wiggling her hands at her dad for him to hold her and you soon put her tiny City jersey on so she was ready to walk around the pitch with her hero.

Between one celebration and the other you didn’t have enough time to celebrate him the way you would have liked to but the right moment arrived when he came home after the parade and before leaving for England camp.

The house was very quiet now without your baby girl screaming and running around or any other noise source, it was only you and John, free to take some time for yourselves.

All the partying and all the alcohol that ran through all the phases of it drained your man that spent the first two hours of your afternoon together dozing off.

You kept staring at him sleeping and, even though you did find cute at first, you were eager to take on some other kind of activities, more exciting.

"Now can we have some time to celebrate all of this together, after being completely wasted for two days straight?"

"You know I have to go to SGP, right?" He muttered sleepily.

"Yeah I know…don't remind me" You pouted, clearly sad about him having to leave you again. "I'll be here all alone, taking care of your child and rolling on the side of the bed just to touch the cold mattress beside me because my boyfriend has left me again"

John rolled his eyes as he was staring at you letting your body slowly collapse down against the mattress in a dramatic fashion, to accentuate the desperate state he was causing you.

"Tell me when you're done" He muttered, pretending to leave the room in order to get some reaction from you as one of his favourite pastimes was annoying and teasing the shit out of you.

"John!! Come back here!"

A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips as his curly head popped behind the door frame of your bedroom.

"Come here, I wanna celebrate my treble winner the way he deserves" You purred trying to look all innocent and cute, something you knew would drive him mad.

"What'll this celebration consist of?" He asked, directing himself towards the bed you were still lying on.

"Come here"

He was now standing before you, his eyes roaming over your body which was his and his only. The thought of you, waiting for him to do everything he wanted to you, using your body as he pleased the most, made his member twitch and bit on his lower lip.

Similar thoughts were running through your mind too and it would have been impossible to have it any differently, considering the way he was standing there before you with his perfect body, that looked nothing different from that of a Greek god straight from Olympus.

You bit on your lower lip too, widening your legs ready to welcome his waist that would fit perfectly against your smaller body.

John bent over you, dipping his right knee on the soft surface and pinning his arms at the sides of your head to balance himself before making you feel his hardness against your thigh.

The most perfect man ever was yours and yours only and could have done anything you pleased to his body to show him how proud he made you.

You tangled your ankles around his waist, erasing those millimetres that were separating your bodies, and closed your eyes to press a quite intense kiss to his lips. The intensity of it caused John to emit a moan right against your lips, one of those moans that made your pussy clench.

Your boyfriend didn't need to hear any of your shaky words of praise to know you’re ready to have each and every inch of him filling you. Despite being fully aware of it he wanted to hear you begging for him.

He got away from your lips to enjoy the sight of your face contorting with pleasure.

"Tell me what's going on in that dirty mind of yours" John moved his hand down south, his fingers between your legs, tapping on your sensitive spot. One, two fingers ready to work their magic and make your moans go louder. As soon as his pads touched your still covered core you gasped, tilting your head back.

"I'm here, don't hold back" He spurred you on by applying a little, innocent peck on your chin.

"I missed your touch s- so bad" Funny how John just started touching and you were already a moaning, writhing mess under him.

Those days away from him added to the anticipated nostalgia of him leaving for England camp, resulting in you being way thirstier and needier than usual.

"Where do you want me to touch you?"

Your boyfriend's fore and middle fingers started drawing little circles on your pussy, stimulating your vulva.

"Here?"

"Oh yes" You sighed, letting your arms fall on the bed and moving your legs to try and find some balance in the utter pleasure he was providing you with.

John placed his left hand on your thigh to open your legs wider and have better access to where you needed him the most.

Instinctively you reached out for his hand but he blocked it, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and bringing it to his mouth to softly kiss the spot where your thumb met your wrist bone.

The only way he could use wisely the few hours he had left to spend with you was adoring you, making you feel loved and thanking you for the loyal support you never failed to give him. Maybe he wasn't the best at doing so by using some words but in that moment words would have been useless, the best thing he could do was kiss you and every inch of your skin and that's what he did: he slowly lifted your top to press his pulpy lips against your abdomen and left a trail of sweet, delicate kisses.

Your eyes were half lid with pleasure as he was about to go down on you. A strangled whine left your mouth when you felt his lips breaking away from your skin, being even more confused when you saw him getting up from the bed to go and take something.

He came back holding his number 5 jersey together with his gold medal and the smirk on his face made you immediately realise what he was about to do.

"Put this on" He ordered you, handing you the valuable prize.

You discarded your top somewhere on the bedroom floor and, without breaking eye contact between you two, you put the medal around your neck.

John licked his lips before pressing his palm flat on your stomach to push you back on the mattress.

When the cold material came in contact with your stomach you gasped as he moved it to the side to kiss the portion of skin that had just been touched by the sign of that glorious season.

After taking his own t-shirt off too, the City defender took his place back between your legs, keeping them open by placing his hands at either side of your thighs.

You could do nothing but hold onto his curly locks, tugging them each time his tongue would stimulate your sensitive bud or he would suck on your clitoris, making you see stars. The way his stubble would scratch the skin of your inner thighs added to all those stimulations and you were convinced you were about to explode.

You screamed almost at the top of your lungs when he stopped sucking on your clit with a loud pop.

Then he slapped your thigh to instruct you to wear his jersey and get on all fours.

You made doe eyes at him, biting on your lower lip and wiggling your naked bum before him.

"Oh God"

He slapped you harder, making you wince as he positioned himself behind you. His eyes lingered on his name written on your back as he thought of him being about to fulfill the fantasy of fucking you raw with his jersey on made him moan.

Before fucking you John had another thing to try: eating you out from behind.

"You look so fucking good"

He blew on your wet core before attaching his lips to it with such an hunger your legs started shaking and your heart rate increased its speed.

He used the tip of his tongue to tickle your bud, sucking and nibbling at it.

"Fuuuck"

John was there, with his eyes closed tasting the cum dripping down your cunt as the most delicious thing he ever ate. You didn't have the time to tell him you were about to reach your climax as his tongue moved in circles around your entrance, instigating your tears to dampen your cheeks.

Feeling you like that urged him to get on his knees to fuck you properly and so he did, slamming his member into you. He stopped after the first thrust to let you get used to his presence and get comfortable, if possible.

His thrusts were somehow gentle at the beginning but then he started grinding faster faster until you both were crying uncontrollably and he released his seed into you the moment you clenched around him, impossible to resist the upcoming orgasm any longer.

John let himself fall on his back after slowly getting out of you as you did the same but taking your place between his legs.

Still with his jersey on it was now your turn to give him some pleasure

"Now put this on and let me do my thing" You smirked, placing the medal around his toned chest where it belonged as you worked your way down his body.

John was still panting, trying to catch some breath from what happened moments earlier but your reward couldn’t wait.

You took his balls in your hands to massage them, having him already with his jaw open in pleasure. Next you moved further down his body putting your mouth at the same height as his member and started peppering kisses along his shaft.

"Oh fuck" John breathed out, his eyes rolling at the back of his head as you were slowly taking him to heaven.

You lifted it with your other hand to take it closer to your lips and, when a particularly deep groan left his mouth, you pressed your lips to his tip in a gentle motion resulting in a heartfelt kiss.

Then you parted to leave room for your tongue to start tickling his sensitive skin in a way that caused him to writhe under you.

You were doing it ever so softly, both because you knew John liked it that way and because you thought it would make the whole experience more special.

When you closed your eyes to swirl your tongue around it as if you were tasting a juicy lollipop he lost it and pushed his veiny hand against your head.

"Fuck that Y/N"

You licked his precum as the most flavoury juice that ever fell down your throat and pushed yourself up to straddle him.

“God I love you so much” You squealed, trapping his lips in a quick, messy kiss before lowering yourself down his cock to let him fill you once again. When your bodies came in contact once again that night you both moaned for how perfectly your figures would fit together. John placed his hands on your hips to guide your deep, circular thrusts against his groin.

If he was enjoying the view of you bouncing on him in his jersey it was safe to say the sight of his sculpted body naked, with only his medal on, with droplets of sweat here and there was quite satisfying for your liking as well.

“I’m -”

“Yes, cum for me baby”

Your movements turned into quite desperate ones as you wanted nothing but to reach the second orgasm of the day and, most of all, do it with him who was the love of your life.

“You look amazing, I love you”

You smiled at his flattery and moaned directly into his mouth, that he just captured in a feverish kiss, underlying the mutual hunger you had for one another.

Everything had been so good and intense your body felt as if it was senseless, ready to faint but John picked it up and placed it back on the bed, filling you with some final thrusts to let him have his own release too.

It would have taken you more than five minutes to regain your breath but it was worth it, so worth it.

The fabric of the piece of clothing you had on had become unbearable so you took it off and threw it somewhere in the room, irritating John’s pride.

“Oi, that’s the shirt of a champion, have some respect”

You giggled and propped yourself up on your elbow to place a peck on his chin.

“Oh I’m sorry. I thought I did it enough honour earlier”

John giggled and pushed you again onto the mattress, making you lie on your tummy this time, placing himself on top of you as if to crush you with his weight.

“You looked so hot and gorgeous earlier on, I really like it when I get to fuck you in my jersey” He admitted in an husky tone right in your ear, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. "The best shag we've had in a while"

"Gross"

He placed a kiss on the spot right behind your ear and did the same on your neck and then on your shoulder.

“You know I’m so proud of you?”

“Yeah, I had a clue…” You bit on his bicep playfully as you both started giggling and you turned your head to give him a kiss. The newly crowned champion had another reason now to get some sleep so he hugged your body tight to to lift it on his and swiftly changed your position so you were now on top of him.

“What are we doing now? A romantic bubbly bath?”

“Let’s have a romantic nap first, I’m knackered”

He already had his eyes closed when cracking that joke and you couldn’t help but smile: he could’ve been wasted to death, be embarrassing but he still was the most perfect man ever in your eyes.

“Yes baby sleep tight, you deserve it…but in a couple of hours you’ll have to get back to your dad duties”

John huffed, still keeping his eyes closed.

“Can’t we let her stay with my family for the night?"

“No! She’s still too young and, refresh my poor memory, who was the one who woke up in the middle of the night, all scared and sweaty running to the other room to see if his daughter was still sleeping in her bed because he dreamed about having to spend the night away from her??”

Your man half cracked an eye open to glare at you and sighed. “That’s a low blow, Y/N, very low”

“The lowest, I know” You giggled, kissing his lips.

“That was a nightmare”

“Oh…okay then, let her have her very first sleep over at your sister’s”

After a few seconds John opened his eyes, looking a bit worried.

“If we take her home tonight can she sleep in bed with us? Like in the middle?”

You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"She has you wrapped around her little finger so bad"

"I know and you shouldn't be jealous"

"I'm not jealous, not at all" You got up, still straddling him as you held your arm to cover your boobs.

John smiled and tapped his fingers against your skin to let your arm fall and kiss each of your fingertips.

It was your turn to smile.

"Now you're trying to persuade me you have a place in your heart for me too, right?"

"Why do you always think I have an ulterior motive for everything I do or say?? That hurts me"

"Oh I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean you hurt you. Can you forgive me?"

John wiggled his eyebrows and took both your hands to place them on his chest.

"You will have to work hard to get my forgiveness…"

#john stones #john stones imagines #john stones fics #john stones fanfictions #john stones smut #john stones fluff #mcfc #manchester city imagines #manchester city fics #manchester city fanfictions #england nt #england nt imagines #england nt fics #football imagines #football fics #footie fics #football writing

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years ago

Text

Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 17)

Previous Part

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Polly deals with some business back in Birmingham while (Y/N) sorts out things with her mother in Sheffield. Something happens before Tommy and (Y/N) are able to come home.

Warnings: mentions of smoking, mentions of threats to kill someone

Word Count: 3915

A/N: here comes the fallout of the previous chapter. I hope everything makes sense once you’ve read it. Also I’ve included the ‘sooner’ results of that one poll I posted…I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged - there are 3 parts left!

Grace was busy wiping down the tabletops inside the empty Garrison tavern. She hated that she could only really clean once the place was empty, and that she now had to carry the entire burden as (Y/N) was off in Sheffield. She decided that she'd actually get to cleaning when her preliminary search of the offices for any more information came up empty. She didn't expect the sound of the side door opening to ring out in the otherwise quiet room.

"We're closed," she called to whoever it was that entered the establishment, not caring enough to look up from what she was doing.

"Oh I know," the voice that responded made her eyes snap up in seconds. Polly Gray was standing in the doorway, eyes already locked on her target.

"Polly," the name left Grace's lips like a gasp, "wha...what are you doing here?"

"I think you know what I'm doing here," Polly's answer was curt.

Grace knew exactly what she meant without having to be told though. It felt like her stomach dropped at the words, and immediately she began to scramble for what she'd say next while hoping that she still looked composed.

Polly spoke first though. "I was going to wait and see if Tommy figured this out or if he was told about it," she began, speaking slowly to let the other woman know that she was in charge of this conversation.

"It seems that he hasn't," Grace took Polly's pause as a time to interject a statement, tipping her chin slightly upwards (in hopes) to show that the statement rolled off of her back.

"Oh I know that," Polly was quick with the counter, "and I was going to let it go until he did figure things out..." she paused, looking the blonde woman up and down before her eyes narrowed slightly, "but then you brought (Y/N) into this when she never should have been. You've made this my problem, and I intend on dealing with it now," she made sure to enunciate her words so that they were spoken clearly.

"What do you know?" Grace decided to ask another question, wanting to see how many cards could be laid out on the table before she played her hand.

"I know that you are not only a barmaid...that you are working for Inspector Campbell; in order to find the stolen guns," Polly began, "I know that you're the one who gave Freddie up. You had a hand in him being taken away from his family just as it was started," she paused, staring the blonde woman down for a few seconds before continuing, "and I know that when you went to tell Inspector Campbell about those guns, you decided to bring (Y/N) into the situation; telling him that she was the one who was hiding them here in Small Heath."

Grace's jaw would have dropped had she not stopped it as Polly offered the last bit of knowledge that she possessed. She wondered how that detail got out...she'd spoken to Campbell in confidence so that it wouldn't.

"Campbell has a tendency to share his plans loudly," Polly cut into her thoughts, divulging exactly what she wanted to hear. "And I think I know why you did it..." she trailed off then, her eyebrows raising as she waited to see if Grace would say anything. She continued when she was met with silence, "I think that you met Tommy and you fell for him. I think that you struggled between the obligation you came here to carry out, and the man you met. Tommy was different from the type of man you were expecting to bring down, and that intrigued you. But then came (Y/N)...she was in the way of what you wanted, and so you made up the lie to try and get her to take the hit for the guns."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Grace asked, her brows furrowed, a panicked feeling starting to bubble up inside of her. She tried hard to keep her composed front up though.

"Because you should know that, in this city, we Shelbys have power. And with that power comes the ability to receive knowledge...and to make knowledge change, or even disappear," Polly pressed her lips together in an attempt to conceal the grin that was threatening to grow on her face as she got ready to reveal an update in Grace's attempted plan. "I've spoken with Sargent Moss, who has investigated (Y/N)'s involvement with the guns. He’s cleared her from any involvement with them. Your plan is no longer being carried out in the way you hoped it would," she allowed the grin to grow once she finished her statement, taking satisfaction in seeing all of the confidence drain out of the younger woman's features.

Polly pursed her lips before her grin could take over her entire expression, feeling even more confident after seeing Grace's reaction to it.

The younger woman was frozen. She didn't quite know what to do, or what to say in response to the information she'd just been given. How was she to play her hand if it had just been completely taken from her?

"I suggest you pack your things and leave Birmingham before (Y/N) comes home. She doesn't know of this little lie you've told at the moment, but she will when she returns, and...well I'm surprised she let you live after the lies you've told her before," Polly broke the tense silence. Grace stayed frozen. "Have I made myself clear in that?" she asked, being met with silence.

"You can't protect him forever, you know that," Grace decided to speak again, hoping she still sounded intimidating, "and (Y/N)...she'll cause bad."

"You must not have realized how we Shelbys are then. We'll protect our own until we can't. And she may...but you've already caused it," Polly didn't even budge on Grace's weak attempts of a comeback. "You should leave. If I see you again, I might just kill you myself," she advised then, nodding her head once to show her determination.

——

(Y/N) was out of breath as she approached the door of her childhood home. "Mum?!" she called as she entered it and was met with an empty room. "Mum?! It's me, everything's alright!" she called again, making her way deeper into the home. Where are you? she thought to herself, walking into the kitchen to find it also empty. The scraping of something on the floor above her made her realize that she may be upstairs. She rushed to the steps and ascended them as fast as she could. "Mum? It's me, mum!" she called out as she approached the door to her parent's room, "I'm coming into the room," she announced as she grabbed the doorknob.

She opened the door slowly, finding the room empty. She knew that her mother was in here though, because this room was right above where the scraping came from. "I'm here alone, mum...I'm safe," she called out as she looked around the room, slowly taking a step inside.

"Over here," she heard a voice call softly, making her rush to the hidden side of the bed to find her mother cowering next to the nightstand - which was what must've scraped the floor.

"It's me," (Y/N) repeated herself as she extended her hand to her mother, "I'm safe."

"You've got blood on you," her mother gasped, making (Y/N) look down and finally realize that some of Garrett's blood had splattered onto her clothing.

"I'm safe, I promise. It's done," she assured her mother. The older woman knew exactly what she was talking about even though she spoke in veiled statements. "Please, stand up with me now," she said then, offering her hand once more in hopes that her mother would take it.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she did. Both of the women stood up and embraced each other in a tight hug. Feeling her mother's comforting arms wrap around her made (Y/N)'s walls fall down again. She couldn't stop the tears as they welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

"We're safe now, mum. He can't hurt us anymore," (Y/N) whispered into her mother's ear as she held onto her for as long as she could. They held the embrace for a few moments longer before stepping away to look at each other. "I'm sorry for coming in unexpectedly. You were the first person I thought of after it was finished," she then apologized for her abrupt entry.

"It's ok, darling," her mother forgave her, "dad's out of town on business. I told him that this would be a good time to take the trip like you and I spoke about...he's not expected to be back for another few days," she explained her husband's whereabouts. (Y/N) nodded, feeling relieved that that part of the plan they'd spoken about in their correspondence had been followed through with.

"No one was in the bar when it happened. He asked everyone to leave when he noticed I was there...said that he wanted to have a conversation with me. Everyone was cleared from the area before the shot rang out," (Y/N) then explained what had gone down on her side of the events.

"Did you do it?" her mother asked. It flashed quickly, but (Y/N) thought she saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she asked the question.

"I didn't," (Y/N) shook her head, glancing at the wall behind her mother, "Tommy was there too. He was able to take the shot when I couldn't," she then explained.

"That's fine...so long as it was finished with," her mother assured her, nodding slightly as she spoke, keeping her eyes locked with (Y/N)'s.

(Y/N) nodded along with her as she felt a lump start to build up in her throat. "I...I'm so sorry, mum," she choked out, another wave of emotion flowing over her as the events caught up once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, love," her mother was quick to console her, "you knew what he was going to do...this was what had to be done. You've saved both your life and mine in doing so," she explained in a calming voice.

"But...but Clay's going to..."

"He's not going to find out. He was at his office while it happened, and you said it yourself that nobody saw it. Anyone could have done it," (Y/N)'s jumbled response was cut off again by her mother's justifications. "It hurts because it's family, but this is what happens inside families like ours. He was going to harm us...we couldn't let that happen," the older woman continued, speaking with a steady voice, "my father wouldn't have let it happen. It's time that us women work to take some power back within our own family."

(Y/N) nodded as she listened to what her mother had to say. "We're going to be ok, right?" she asked once she'd been able to calm down.

"We are. We're going to be more than ok, love," her mother agreed with her. "He wasn't going to bring anything good into this family. I believe he's finally found his peace now...whatever that peace may be," she then said.

It hurt her to think of her son this way, but it was what was necessary. Garrett was ready to fly off of the handle. He was in the midst of planning to find (Y/N) and then be able to rid the family of the 'weaker links', which meant that he was going after his mother too. In his mind, all the women did was take up space...they weren't good for anything because they didn't fight or throw their hat into the ring to help out the family in, what he deemed to be, a substantial way while the war was going on. The only reason why he wasn't able to push forward on this crusade, if you will, was because Clay didn't think that it was ideal to carry the plan out. He was more invested in trying to make deals and expand their control over the city. Garrett usually listened to Clay but, over these last few weeks, it seemed as though he was gearing up to carry out his plans without approval. This is what made Ann Weller scared, and it's ultimately why she decided to write (Y/N) a letter explaining what was happening so that they could create a plan of their own.

She was thankful that all of the different parts worked out the way they did. She didn't want to think of the consequences that would have arisen had one gone wrong.

"You said that Tommy came with you, (Y/N)?" Anne asked after both of the ladies were completely calm again.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded her head, "he did." Realization struck her then as she remembered running out of the pub and leaving Tommy in the dust as she rushed to get to her mother. "I left him at the pub," she said then, stepping away from her mother to exit the room and rush down the steps. She was fully prepared to sprint back to the pub where she left him, but she quickly realized that she wouldn't need to. "Tommy," she gasped, surprised to see him standing in the front room of the home.

"I was only a few steps behind you," he explained to her, immediately seeing her surprised expression. (Y/N) didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, her worry dissipating once more.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Shelby," Ann’s voice came from behind her daughter, making her turn around.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Weller. And please, call me Tommy," he smiled at her, stepping forward to offer his hand in a formal greeting.

"You call me Ann then," she told him while shaking his hand, making him chuckle as he nodded in agreement. "Thank you for looking after my daughter, Tommy," she said, an appreciative smile on her face.

"You're welcome," Tommy accepted her gratitude, looking over at (Y/N) to see that she was already smiling at him. He held her gaze until she broke away, looking bashfully at the ground. "I'm sorry about what had to happen," he addressed what had gone down earlier, looking at Ann again.

"Don't be," Ann brushed his apology off, "I've already told (Y/N)...he was my son, but he was also an angry and violent man. I hope that he's found peace now," she then reiterated what she'd said to (Y/N) moments ago. Tommy nodded along with her, making note of how she felt about the situation.

"It's getting late," (Y/N) spoke up again after a few moments had passed, "we should head back to Birmingham, Tommy."

"If you're ready," Tommy agreed with her while still letting her lead the situation.

"I am," (Y/N) nodded her head before she looked at her mother. "I love you, mum," she said, a smile on her face as she stepped forward to hug the older woman.

"I love you, sweetheart," Ann repeated the sentiment, hugging her daughter tightly, "things will be better from now on," she assured her, stepping back to smile at her as she held onto her shoulders.

"They will," (Y/N) agreed with her mother, even though she didn't feel what she was saying completely in her heart. "Shall we go?" she asked Tommy as she turned to face him. Tommy only nodded in response, taking a step to the door then. "Bye, mum. I'll write to you when I'm home safe," (Y/N) said to her mother, sending her one last smile before she followed Tommy to the door.

"Bye, (Y/N)," Ann sent a smile back, watching as the two exited the home and went on their way back to the car they'd arrived in.

The walk back was filled with silence. Tommy finally had a chance to smoke; he'd been needing a cigarette after what went down at the pub, but he was more worried about (Y/N) than his desires. Having her safe by his side finally allowed him to give in.

Tommy opened the driver's side door with no hesitation, getting himself ready to enter the car when he noticed that (Y/N) was practically frozen on the passenger's side. "(Y/N)?" he called to her, his brows furrowed as he looked through the car's windows to see her absentmindedly staring at the door. She didn't answer him, didn't even look up, so he dropped his hand from the door and walked around to meet her on the other side. "Everything ok, love?" he asked once he was in front of her.

"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of her thoughts, sounding surprised.

"You weren't getting into the car," he pointed out, "are you alright?"

"I, uh..." she trailed off, breaking eye contact as she hoped to keep herself together, "this can't keep happening with us, Tommy. This can’t become our ‘thing’," she choked out, her attempts failing as she recalled the past two times where they found themselves in a situation similar to what had happened at the pub earlier.

Tommy frowned as he heard what she had to say. "It won't happen again," he told her, a definitive tone in his voice.

(Y/N) wanted to take that statement at face value and hold onto it with all of her might, but she just couldn't. Instead she felt her heart break at the possibility that there very well could be another time. "That's not something you can promise," she pointed out, her voice broken. She dropped her gaze to the pavement as tears started to prick her eyes, not wanting Tommy to see her cry. She couldn't get it past him though, because she felt his arms engulf seconds later. His embrace was tight, one that she immediately sunk into.

"These sort of things'll be done now, eh?" he tried to reason with her, resting his chin on the top of her head as she clung to him tightly. "Look at me, (Y/N)," he whispered then, making her step back from him. He took his chance and took her face into his hands, holding her so that she couldn't break eye contact. "I might not be able to promise that, but I can promise that I will keep you safe, no matter what happens, ok?" he spoke in all seriousness, his eyes widening to show how much he cared. "I will keep you safe," he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke.

(Y/N) nodded as best she could with her head in his hands. "Ok," she breathed, feeling truly safe as he was holding her.

"Ok," he repeated her single word statement in a similar tone, nodding slightly as well.

Silence fell between them then, and (Y/N) realized in that period just how close they'd gotten. She could feel the warmth of Tommy's breath as it fanned across her face. The blueness of his eyes trapped her, shining despite the circumstances and giving her a glimmer of hope that maybe things would be better from there on out. She stayed in his grasp, watching as his eyes flitted to her lips for a moment before locking with hers again. A strange sensation shot through her as she watched him do that, and she couldn't help but do some searching of her own, letting her eyes travel over his features as she admired them up close.

Tommy dropped his eyes to her lips one more time before he made up his mind and decided to stop dancing around what he was wanting to do, what he’d been wanting to do. He leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to realize what he was doing; waiting for her to react in any sort of way. The second he saw her eyelids flutter shut, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers.

All of the bells and whistles were going off inside (Y/N)'s mind the second she felt his lips touch hers. She returned the kiss right away, her hands grabbing onto the sides of his suit jacket as she felt like she was about to be swept off of her feet.

The first kiss was short, a sort of a taste or teaser...a way to test the waters. Tommy was the one to pull away, but he didn't move far, only retreating a few centimeters so that they could both grab a breath before he leaned back in and kissed her again; his intentions more firm this time.

If the first kiss would have swept her off of her feet, this kiss would have blown (Y/N) away. She was not in any way prepared for something like this to happen, but now that it was happening, she didn't want it to end. Everything felt right in this moment. Her worries were pushed to the back of her mind as he moved to the forefront.

Their kiss lasted for a few moments before Tommy pulled away again, this time for good as he lifted his head slightly and pressed his lips to her forehead. (Y/N) relished in the feeling as tingles continued to shoot through her body. Nothing was said as he let go of her face and wrapped his arms around her once more, holding her flush against him.

"Are you ok?" he finally broke the silence, pulling her away to let her stand at arm's length as he looked her over.

"More than," she couldn't stop herself fast enough, the half-dazed answer escaping her lips before she had the chance to think it over.

Her response made him chuckle, a slight grin forming on his face as he relished in seeing her sheepish smile form. He hoped he didn't look too animated on the outside, and that she couldn't feel his heart where it was thudding in his chest. "Good," he said to her, feeling like a weight lifted off of his shoulders as she smiled at him.

She pulled him back into an embrace without warning, resting her head flat against his chest. She took comfort in the fact that his heart was beating rapidly, happy that he was reacting the same way she was. He held her tight to him, letting her rest in his arms with no questions asked. Silence surrounded them again until she asked a question of her own: "can we go home now?"

Her voice was soft, but Tommy heard her. "We can," he answered without hesitation, his heart rate picking up again at her word choice.

(Y/N) didn't misspeak. Even though she grew up in Sheffield, Birmingham had grown to feel more like home than that place ever had. Something told her that the man whose arms she was standing in had a lot to do with why she felt that way.

And now she just wanted to go home.

Next Part

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