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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Rumour

Description: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious...

Warnings: smutty smutty smut smut, lotta angst, tiny fluff. NSFW, Minors DNI I will whack you with a dinner plate, Eddie is mid 30s, tattoo artist, dom, reader uses sher/her pronouns, sub, fem! Oral receiving, praise kink, potential for Sir kink, a tiny bit of penis handling, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) genital and tongue piercings.

A/N: well, this thought gripped to the inside of my thighs and refused to let go. I had to share it with you before I started humping my furniture. Have fun. Again I'm English so I try with the Americanisms, anything I got wrong soz babe. BTW ST 4pt2 never happened soz babycakes ❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive (and my own heart beating)! If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤

Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

5.2k words

Walking back to your ground floor apartment after your shift, your feet aching, you spot your neighbour sitting on a lawn chair in the courtyard smoking a cigarette. Your incredibly hot, older neighbour. Mr Munson.

The neighbour that sends shivers up your spine at the mere mention of him. The neighbour that you think about at night when you're in bed, all alone.

No doubt about it, he looked both hot and intimidating. Not that you would care to admit but that was entirely your type. Mid thirties, broad shouldered, and appeared to be as confident as a wolf, and about as self assured. He reminded you of one; gruff looking, proud, stalking around, making you feel like prey.

He looked particularly jaw dropping tonight in a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up; part of his muscular arms were on display, covered in countless tattoos. You've heard that he works in one of the tattoo shops down town. In fact you've heard a lot about him, but that was one rumour that you actually believed.

Elbows resting on his knees, his messy hair fell in waves just brushing his shoulders, full lips taking a drag on a rolled cigarette. Peeking out of his shirt collar, between the waves of hair, you can see a skull like tattoo on the side of his neck.

Is that new? Oh God, he's so hot. Okay just walk past, act normal.

You saunter past him with as much confidence as you could muster.

"Hey Mr Munson." You nod in his direction, trying to stop your voice quaking, fumbling for your keys.

"Hey sweet thing. You good?"

Jesus, does he really need to call me that?

The nickname travels to the pit of your stomach making you squirm hotly.

"Yeah sir, just a long shift at the bar. Idiots tonight, you know?"

Mr Munson shifts in his chair taking a sudden breath in.

"Shit sweetheart, sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?"

Well, it couldn't hurt, right?

You flop down in the chair bedside him, gesturing for a drag on his cigarette.

"Can I?"

He smiles wickedly and puts his roll up to your mouth. The roughness of his fingertips brushes on your lips making you clench, almost rucking your hips up, albeit briefly. You hope he doesn't notice. Of course he does.

Taking half a hit you realise that it's not a fucking cigarette, it's a blunt. It's not like you'd never tried anything like that but it was certainly not what you were expecting. The heavy, sweet, herb feeling lays on your tongue. Eyes wide you breathe out, coughing slightly much to his amusement.

He holds it out at you so you can take a proper hit. Sucking at the blunt so you can take it all in, your lips brush against his calloused hands, adorned with rings.

Breathing out, you gaze at him. His smile splits his face wide open, thick tongue rolling to a point, licking across his upper lip in a teasing manner. You cannot help but focus on the tongue stud pierced right through the middle of the muscle, a long stainless steel bar penetrating his whole tongue. You had certainly never noticed it before. It's presence made you wet, sticking between your thighs at the sheer thought of what he could do with it.

"Something on your mind pretty girl?" A cocky side grin plastered across his handsome features.

Shit, I was totally staring.

Blushing, you look away and try to change the subject.

"You know, you should really warn a girl before she takes a hit of a blunt."

He laughs deep in his throat. "I thought you knew! So, why was today so terrible?"

"Just customers thinking that I'm nice to them because I want them, not because it's literally my fuckin' job. Couple dudes tried to hit on me, one of them grabbed my ass." You sigh into the night air.

"Shit, I hope you taught him a lesson."

"Of course, hit him on the head with my tray."

He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back. You gawp at his neck, sexy stubble running down past his Adam's apple. Turning his head towards you, he flashes his teeth.

"Didn't know you had it in you. Good girl."

Holy shit.

Your whole lower body clenches at his words of praise as you take in a shaky breath. The apples of your cheeks are on fire. Mr Munson gives you a knowing look, eyes glittering darkly.

You stand up on slightly unsure legs.

"Okay I'm- I'm gonna have a shower. See you around Mr Munson."

You fumble for your keys. Turning to your door you hear a gravelly voice behind you.

"Eddie. Call me Eddie."

********************

A few nights later and your surrounded by the rough brick interior of the bar, busy wiping down sticky tables. There's only half an hour until closing; half an hour and you can go home and rest. It's pretty empty tonight, just three regulars dotted around in the semi dark, nursing their drinks.

You haven't been able to get your latest encounter with Mr Munson, sorry, Eddie, off your mind. You liked to think you were a strong independent woman. You were 22 after all; having had to live on your own since you were 18, life hadn't exactly been kind. You had to be strong to survive. So why exactly was it that a few moments with Eddie had turned you into a blushing, giggling school girl? He had disarmed you with a few words and a rough grin and now you couldn't stop thinking of him. All he had done was call you a good girl and you turned into one. A simpering mess.

Doing a final sweep for glasses, you make your way back behind the bar just as the door opens and a brisk breeze blows in.

Oh fuck its him.

You see his broad frame silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, leather jacket hanging open. His wild mane is in a low messy bun for once, tendrils of loose hair moving in the wind. He stalks over to you and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Dark eyes finding yours, he leans against the bar on one elbow, towering over you.

Plastering your customer service mask across your face; social armour to hide the nerves, you smile at him.

"Well good evening sir, what can I get ya?"

He grins at you devilishly, biting his lip, like he wants to devour you whole.

"What did I tell you? Call me Eddie."

"Sorry Eddie."

"Good girl. I'll have a bourbon, please."

Only just realising your mouth is hanging open, you slam it shut, cheeks burning. He looks at you smugly, like he's just proven a theory. Your body goes on autopilot, grabbing a glass, adding ice, measuring bourbon.

When you hand his drink over he slides over a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep the change."

You blink at him. "I couldn't, it's too much-"

"Then have a drink on me. I just finished a piece and got paid today. I'm celebrating."

You wouldn't usually, but you're on your own and it's nearly closing. Fuck it.

You pour yourself a bourbon, adding a dash of soda water to yours and take a sip. Eddie beams at you.

"Well thank you." You smile back at him, losing yourself in those dark brown eyes of his, watching the way the skin crinkles at the corners when he grins.

He sticks the ball of his tongue piercing out, rolling it between his lips as he stares at you. It seems like a subconscious movement, you're not sure he's aware that he's doing it.

"Why do you have that?" You blurt out, word vomit pouring off your tongue.

"Have what, pretty girl?" You're staring at his mouth, and he understands, sticking his tongue out at you.

"Thith?" He lisps at you, still poking his tongue out. Giggling, you nod.

His hand drops to the bar, thumb reaching out, stroking back and forth over the knuckles on the back of your hand. An involuntary shiver creeps down your spine at the touch of his rough skin.

"Oh, sweet thing. I think you know exactly what it's for."

His eyes are deep pools, inviting you in. Your thighs clench at his words, biting your lip.

"Oh."

He smirks at you, humming. You pull your hand away, looking at the time.

"Er, just a sec."

You move away slightly and shout out last call. Two of the patrons leave; the other walks over to the bar, slight stagger to his step. Serving him a final Scotch, he pounds it back and walks outside.

It's just you and Eddie. All alone.

"I've got to, um, finish closing up."

"I'll give you a ride if you'll have another drink with me."

You open your mouth. Then close it.

He pouts at you, looking at you with big doe eyes. "Please?"

Well fuck.

"Okay, just let me finish up."

You collect the rest of the glasses, wipe down the last of the sides and sort the nights takings, getting it all in the small safe in the back room.

After locking the front door you return, hang your bar apron up and pour the drinks. Eddie gestures for you to join him on the bar stool next to his. You perch on it lightly; he reaches for his wallet but you wave it away.

"No, I've already done the takings, this ones on me. For the ride, you know."

He shrugs, returning the wallet to his back pocket.

"So" you say, taking a sip of your drink, "you said you finished a piece. You're a tattoo artist, right?"

"Yep, that's right."

"Thought so, I heard a rumour."

"Rumour, eh? What else you heard?" Eyes glittering, he took a mouthful of bourbon.

You giggle "Hmm, well, I heard you were some Satanic cult leader in high school-"

He waved that off, "oh that's so old. If playing D&D is satanic then I'm the devil himself." He sticks his tongue out again, creating little horns with his fingers on his forehead.

You laugh at that, starting to finally feel at ease in his company. The bourbon helped.

"Someone said you sacrificed a goat in the woods once."

He nearly spits his drink at that one. "Now that's more like it, even I've not heard that one. Got any more?"

You blush, realising you've only heard one more.

"I heard you had... other piercings." You mumble, not wanting to say it too loud despite the lack of company.

"What other piercings?" He eyes never leave yours as he finishes his drink.

You're sure it's not normal to have so much blood in your cheeks. You can hear the blood swooshing in your ears. Finishing your own drink for courage, you gaze down at your hands in your lap.

"I heard you have a pierced..."

"Dick?" He ducks his head, trying to catch your eye again, cheeky smile on his face.

"Yeah." Your whole body feels hot and small under his gaze.

He just smirks at you and shrugs.

Is that a no? A yes? Now I'm dying to know!

He winks at your obvious frustration and says "come on I'll take you home."

********************

The ride home in Eddie's Mustang is uneventful. A little small talk is shared, but mostly you're staring out the window, trying to catch glimpses of him when he wasn't looking, eyes wandering to his crotch.

Pretty soon he was dropping you off at your front door, hand leaning on the door frame, crowding into your personal space. Just breathing the same air as him felt suffocating in the best way.

"Well, goodnight then sweet thing." He winks at you, glancing at your lips. For a split second you think he's going to kiss you, but he breaks away and turns to leave.

"Do you wanna come in?" Shit did I just say that out loud?

"You sure?"

You nod and he throws you a wolfish grin. You've never felt so much like a lamb in your entire life. You may as well baa at this point.

You lead him into your tiny apartment, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch, turning on a couple of dim lamps as you go. He flops down, manspreading, large hand resting on his knee.

"You want another drink? I've got bourbon but no ice I'm afraid."

"Sure thing sweets." He responds whilst slipping his jacket off, placing it on a nearby chair.

"You mind if I smoke? Just a cigarette, promise."

You smile at the reference, "sure, there's an ashtray just there."

He pulls out a pre rolled smoke, lighting it and taking a few drags.

When you've poured the drinks you make your way to the other side of the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table. He offers his cigarette to you. As you nod, he shifts closer, holding it to your lips. You take a couple of drags, relishing the feel of his fingers on your mouth. Every time your skin touches his it sends a flutter through your nerves.

You watch him take a sip of his drink, seeing him press that perfect bottom lip to the glass. He drinks and puts the glass down. Not even looking your way, he says "something you wanna share, pretty girl?"

"Do you? Is it?" You say doltishly. Well done, real eloquent.

"You really wanna know, huh?"

"Yes!" You say loudly, bourbon well and truly in the drivers seat for that one.

He laughs and looks at you dead in the eye, another chance to make you squirm.

"Yes."

Gaping at him for a few seconds, your brain and mouth finally connect.

"Do you- did it hurt? What's it look like? What kinda-"

Stopping you mid babble with a wave of his hand, he simply asks, "you wanna see it?"

Brain short circuiting, you merely stare at him dumbfounded. You nod, curiosity well and truly getting the best of you.

He stands up and undoes his belt, sound echoing through the apartment. Your gaze is fixated on his large hands as they deftly unbutton his jeans. A glimpse of a tattoo teases you on his lower abdomen. His happy trail is peeking out, leading to the large thatch of hair that snakes down to his manhood. You swallow hard.

He slowly pulls his boxers down and you scoot closer to have a look. It emerges from the fabric, to your surprise half hard.

You gape at it. You've seen dicks before. A handful. And they are just that, a handful. This is more than a handful. You think you'd struggle to get your hand around his. The girth of it was truly intimidating. It certainly looked long too, and that was at half mast.

The end of it was pink and rounded, and the piercing went through the slit at the top, down to the underside of the tip. The piercing was thicker than you imagined, a curved bar with thick steel balls on either end. You never thought you would be into this sort of thing, but just looking at it made you think about what it felt like. What it tasted like. You wet your lips and continue to stare.

On instinct, your hand reaches out. You only notice when it meets the roughness of his jeans, touching ever so closely to his exposed member.

You look up at Eddie's face. He's looking right back at you sinfully.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not as much as you'd think. Ached like a bitch the first time I got a boner though."

You giggle, staring at it again.

"Can I touch it?" What the hell. It just slipped out, unbidden. You see his dick twitch at the thought.

Eddie chuckles darkly. "Did you seriously just ask if you-"

"Sorry that was dumb of me-"

"Sure you can sweet thing."

Before your mind can even comprehend what's happening, your hand shoots forward with sudden bravery, reaching out to hold it. You inspect the tip, looking at the piercing, feeling his hardness grow under your delicate touch. Inquisitively you rub the jewellery with your thumb, inadvertently smoothing the pad of your thumb over his tip in the process. Eddie hisses through his teeth.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

"No," Eddie manages through gritted teeth, "just felt really fuckin' good."

Oh.

You back off, moving your hands from his piercing and placing them in your lap. He tucks himself away again, doing up his jeans, subconsciously palming his length.

"Well? What do you think?" He sits on the couch next to you, denim clad knee touching yours.

"It's really big Eddie."

He laughs, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa.

"You talkin' about the piercing or my dick?"

"Both." You couldn't help it. It had to be said. It was true. You knock your drink back, feeling entirely too sober for this conversation.

Eddie's mouth splits into a lazy smug smile. Finishing his own drink, he turns to you, eyes roaming over your body.

"So, do I get a turn now sweet thing?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "At what?"

Well, you got to touch me. Can I touch you?"

Your eyes widen at his brazen attitude, but you'd be lying if you said this wasn't the reason you had invited him in in the first place. The very air around you feels heavy, hot with anticipation.

"Ok."

You stand up shakily, mirroring his movements from earlier, unsure hands unbuttoning your jeans. Eddie's eyes travel down to your core, predatory gaze shamelessly wandering over you. Your jeans are a little big, slipping straight to your ankles when they're undone. You kick them off and away. Standing there in your tank top and tiny white panties you've never felt so exposed in your life.

Eddie stands up for a second looking down at you, eyes shining with mischief. He winks, and drops to his knees between the couch and the coffee table, grabbing your hips and pulling you to face him.

Sizeable hands hovering over the hem of your underwear, he looks up at you. "Can I? Can I take these off?"

You nod, cheeks flaring with heat.

Eddie licks his lips, eyes never leaving your cunt. "I'm gonna need you to say it, sweet thing."

"Y-yes Eddie." You manage to stumble out.

"Atta girl."

He peels them off. They stick for a moment between your thighs, slick and heat pouring from your core. The tops of your thighs are already damp with expectancy. Your muscles clench, pressing together with angst. Eddie pries your thighs apart slightly, thumbs massaging calming circles into the flesh.

Eddie presses a kiss to your mound, stubble scratching the delicate skin ever so slightly.

"Eddie what are you doing?"

"You said I can touch you."

"Yeah, so why-"

Eddie's tongue pushes between your folds firmly, tongue bar flicking right over your clit.

The noise you make is nearly inhuman, breath knocked out of your lungs in shock. Your legs buckle at the knees, ass falling to the carpet. He takes the opportunity to wedge his head between your legs, your thighs pushed as wide as far as the narrow space allowed, stuck between the sofa and the table.

His stubble is burning the insides of your thighs, roughly rubbing against your soft skin. Eddie licks into you, pushing his tongue inside your hole. You feel the warm wetness of his thick tongue and the foreign bump of hard steel forcing shockwaves of pleasure into you. The moan he rips from you reverberates in your chest, full of want.

Eddie groans into you, tongue making it's way to your clit, running in dizzying circles. The feeling is almost too much as you buck up into him, writhing your back on the carpet.

"Oh my God, Eddie!"

You can practically feel him smirking against your dripping pussy, getting his large hands underneath your ass so he can push his face into you even further. His tongue is everywhere, eating you out messily, hungry for you. The occasional rub of steel sends your senses into overload, hips rutting shamelessly into his face.

He moves one hand from underneath you and pushes two fingers deep onto your cunt. You're on the verge of screaming, tears gathering in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. The pressure of your desire collects in the pit of your stomach.

His fingers make you feel so full, reaching somewhere you've never been able to touch on your own. The rough sure movements of his hand so close to sending you over the edge, pussy grateful to have something to clench around.

"Eddie! Holy fuck." You cry out, an unsolicited tear spilling from your eye.

Eddie's mouth unlatches from your heat briefly.

"You gonna come, pretty girl? Come on, soak my face, that's my girl." And he's diving straight back in, tongue movements unmatched, strong fingers fucking into you. Desperate, filthy noises pour from your throat at the sudden onslaught.

Tensing up, you feel the unimaginable tight hot ball of desire suddenly drop. The feeling ignites through you like wildfire, coalescing into a burning, broken scream of his name.

Once you've chased your release as far as it could possibly take you, your back finally touches the floor again. Eddie moves away from you, sitting up, gazing at your fucked out form. Panting, flushing, sweating, you manage to look at him.

Eddie looks wild, feral, hair a mess, face covered and dripping with your slick. You can even see a wet shiny patch on his forehead. You giggle, dopey in your post orgasm haze.

"What? Have I got something on my face?" Eddie stares at you unblinking. You laugh loudly at that, pointing to where it was on his forehead. He laughs back and pulls his t shirt off, wiping his sticky face all over it before tossing it onto the sofa.

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him shirtless. Taunt, muscular frame, dark patch of hair covering his chest, matching the rough hair of his happy trail. He is littered with tattoos, some dark and bold, others lighter and faded. There's small patches of alabaster skin here and there. He's glistening, clearly having worked up a slight sweat just from the force of which he'd eaten you out. Muscles shining, catching the dim light.

He catches your lust filled stare and leans over you, caging your head with his strong arms.

"So, you wanna know why I've got the other piercing?" Sinful smirk turning his mouth up at the corners.

You crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his neck. Desperate hands snake into his hair as you open your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie's kisses are messy but skilful, one hand moulding to the back of your head, pushing you towards him almost painfully. The need for each other is tangible, bodies colliding, rolling into one another. He sits up, pulling you along with him by the waist, tongue continuously dipping into your mouth. Finally, you break from the kiss just to breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked from the room and all you can breathe is Eddie.

He's kissing along your jaw line, down your neck; yearning, robust kisses. Heaving breaths are coming from each of you.

"Bedroom?' Eddie manages between heavy panting and pecks.

You gesture to the hall and he wastes no time in standing up, pulling you along with him, eliciting a surprised squeal from you. You wrap your legs around his waist, firm hands holding you steady, as he attempts to navigate your hallway whilst still kissing you.

Nearly tripping on your discarded jeans, he slams your back into the wall. You couldn't care less, tongue invading his mouth, pressing your naked heat against his solid bulge. His groans are so low they're almost growls, bearish and dominant. He takes the opportunity to press your form against the wall so he can pull your tank top over your head, eyes rolling back at your braless chest.

Finally, he carries you through your bedroom door, dropping you onto the bed. Unbuckling his belt and exposing himself to you for the second time today, this time he's taking his clothes off completely, standing in front of you naked in all his glory. Further tattoos cover his hairy legs, you see his thick thighs flexing. He gives you a ravening look; predacious in its delivery, with a smile that belies the lust in his eyes.

Quivering before him, he roughly widens your legs and slots his hips in between. You feel the hard shaft of his dick pressing against your slick folds, whimpering at the contact.

Hovering over you, one of his hands engulfs the side of your face, stroking down to your chin, holding you there. You stare at him open mouthed, consumed by the feeling of him rubbing up and down your wet pussy.

"You sure you want this, sweet thing?"

"Yes, Eddie please." Your voice doesn't sound like you, its smaller, meek. Your eyes plead with him.

Leaning in to you further, his hot breath whispers, deep voice on the shell of your ear. "Are you sure you can take it? Can you be a good girl for me?"

You moan loudly at him, small hands clasping at his biceps in desperation.

"Yes, please Eddie, I'll be so good for you!" You writhe underneath him.

He chuckles, biting his lip. "I knew you were into that. You got a condom?"

"No I'm on the pill, I need you, please."

"Holy shit." Eddie wastes no more time, rubbing his cock up against your entrance, strange feeling of the piercing hard against your slippery cunt.

He starts to push into you and your mouth falls open, no sound coming out. You grip his shoulders hard, trying so hard to take him. The stretch is intense. He's looking at you with concern, softer than he's ever looked at you.

"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt."

You nod, pupils blown, trying so hard not to clench around him. He bottoms out, the final push making you whimper.

Stroking your face, he gives you a moment to adjust.

"So fuckin' beautiful like this."

Your cheeks burn at the praise, lips enveloping his in a soft kiss.

He moves, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, a loud whine escaping from your lips. The burning feeling has been replaced with pure ecstasy. You're sure you can feel the steel of the piercing hitting that spot inside you.

Thrusting into you slowly a couple of times, you already feel pressure in your stomach, knots tied tight and begging to be released. The sensation tightens further, shoots of it flying down your legs and up your spine. You clench around him hard, moaning.

"Fuck Eddie I'm gonna cum, fuck." You pant out, eyes wide.

"Already? Shit you're gonna give me an ego."

"You already- oh God, fuck- you already have one."

He laughs loud and thrusts into you harder. Instantly you release, the ropes holding your stomach snapping. You come with a high pitched squeal of his name. You hear your wetness before you can feel it, a squelching noise resonating with each drive into your sopping cunt.

"Oh fuck, sweet thing, you squirted. Soaked me. You're- perfect" he groans. You keen at the praise.

Getting on his knees he pulls you bodily into him, slamming into you harder, hands digging at the flesh of your hips. You've never felt so full in your life, his cock piercing nudging your g spot with each thrust.

Eddie's grunting with effort, hair completely loose now, wild around his shoulders. Your fingernails bite into his flexing muscles leaving crescent moons in their wake.

"Shit, sweet thing, oh fuck."

Eddie pushes himself forcefully back on top of you, folding you in half, knees pressed against your stomach.

"Oh Eddie!" It's just so overwhelming. You're full to the brim with him, satisfaction coating your insides, eyelids coated with emotion. Tears spring out the corners of your eyes, running down your temples. You're trembling, inundated with emotion and sensation.

"Hey, hey, you ok?" He slows.

"Yes fuck please Eddie don't fucking stop!"

Grinning wickedly he thrusts into you without restraint, slamming his hip bones into the flesh of your thighs, cock breaching you like nothing ever before.

Clamping down around him, your third orgasm is an ocean; wave after wave of sinful pleasure washing over the very fabric of your being, stripping you back to your bare components and leaving you breathless, sweating, and as exposed as a raw nerve. You babble, and cry, and whine his name, eyes tight shut, utterly taken by the moment.

Eddie's plunges into you start to falter. Feeling him twitching, becoming impossibly harder inside you he comes, spilling his seed deep into your cunt. The warm, rushing feeling just expands the length of your own release, waves finally ebbing and retreating.

Eddie pulls out from you, leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. He lies on his side next to you, thumb approaching to rub a stray tear from your cheek. You're both perspiring; glowing forms gasping for air.

Finally catching some semblance of breath, he strokes your cheek again, wide grin dissipating on his face.

"You ok pretty girl?"

"Yeah you could say that." You huffed a laugh, still trying to focus on how he'd made you feel.

"But you cried?" Its a question, but he looks concerned, hands attempting to comfort you.

"It was just, so much. Too good, you know." Taking in his smirk you say "don't you let that go to your head!"

"Bit fuckin' late for that" he laughs. "C'mere."

He gathers you up in his strong arms, holding you close, and kisses you on the forehead. The affection honestly takes you by surprise, expecting him to have bolted by this point, having got what he wanted.

"Can I level with you?"

Oh shit here we go.

"I've wanted to do that since you moved in." He grins at you.

"Oh, really?" You look up at him, surprised that he'd been feeling the same as you. "Well, same. You're really hot."

He laughs and strokes your back.

"You working tomorrow?"

"No, why? Are you?"

"No. I wanna take you out somewhere, if you want." He almost looks embarrassed. Almost.

"Are you asking me out on a date Mr Munson?" You smirk at him in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah, if you wanna. Unless you just wanted this to be a one time thing, I get it, I can just leave." There's a quaver to his voice. A weakness your not used to hearing.

You stare up at him. Cocky, confident Eddie Munson, was about as unsure as you were. You giggle.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." Smiling, you attempt to hide it into his inked chest.

"So, wanna take a shower?"

"Well" you say, leaning up on your elbow, "we could. Or..."

"Or what, sweet thing?" He rubs your arm, furrowing his brow.

"Or, we could do that again."

Tag list (please reblog this fic if you want to stay in the tags ILY ❤)

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commissions4aid-international · 4 months

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HELP MY FAMILY TO EVACUATE FROM GAZA

Please help me and my family to evacuate from gaza

Donate if you can

Sher if you cant

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-restore-a-home-filled-with-memories?

[Verified by el-shab-hussein | $5,443 of $150,000 goal]

Of course, we would love to help!

Everyone, please share and donate to the Sharif family's fundraiser! This is a family of 23 people - 15 of which are children - and they have been displaced for months. Many of them need medical care as well.

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holylulusworld · 1 month

Text

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, shy reader, fluff, innocent reader, protective/possessive Sherlock, fingering, smut, unprotected sex, first time, creampie, breeding kink (a hint), degrading (namecalling)

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (4)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

His large hand pressed against your untouched petals. You whimpered, in need, an unknown heat spreading through your abdomen. You felt hot and started to rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his fingers.

Sherlock watched you desperately moving your hips, faster, and faster until he took his hand away. You cried out, hands grasping for his wrist to keep him from taking away his touch.

He purred your name and teased you for turning into a whore within a few moments. Your eyes watered because he didn’t give you what you wanted. Your lips wobbled and you choked out a sob.

“Do you want to fulfill your wifely duties now,” he whispered and nipped at your earlobe. Sherlock tugged at your ear shell, making you whine. “Say it, wife.”

“I want—” you sniffled. What you wanted; you didn’t know. In the books you read there wasn’t more than kissing and waking next to their lover the next day. What happens in between, you didn’t know for sure. “I want you to fulfill your husbandly duties.”

Sherlock growled before he rolled on top of you. Just then you realized he was bare. His chest pressed against your heaving breasts, and his lips, those dangerous pillows pressed against yours. He shoved his tongue past your parting lips to lick into your mouth.

Your eyes widened. This wasn’t the way a gentleman kissed his wife. No. It was so much more. He devoured your mouth while shoving your nightie up to your waist, baring your most precious secret to him. Sherlock settled between your legs, spreading your quivering thighs for him.

“Your mine to devour, and claim. No one can have you,” he growled the words as you stared up at the beast your husband turned into. His lips claimed yours again, a little softer this time. “I’m going to fulfill my husbandly duties now, wife. You’re going to come on my cock only.”

Your eyes widened. For months you wished he’d take you like the lovers in the books you read, but suddenly you panicked a little.

What if he didn’t like touching you? What if you did something wrong? What if you couldn’t make him fill you with his seed?

His eyes bored into yours when he kneeled between your legs. He smirked before pressing one finger against your untouched opening.

“Husband,” you breathlessly whimpered. You didn’t know what he was up to until he slowly pushed his finger into your cunt.

“This is mine,” he started to move back and forth, eyes never leaving your face. “Say it.”

“It’s yours…”

“Again…” Sherlock slipped his finger out of your cunt, only to press two inside, now scissoring you open. “Say it, wife!”

“It’s yours…Sir,” you whimpered, earning a deep guttural growl. “Only yooours….”

His fingers left you empty and wanting. He was suddenly back on top of you, his mouth stealing another kiss. You didn’t know if you should do something or lie still.

“You are mine, that’s right,” he growled, his eyes black with lust. You could only nod because you felt something bigger than his fingers poke at your entrance. Holding your breath, you looked up at him, feeling his shaft slowly slide into you.

“Sher-lock,” you babbled his name. “It’s too much.”

“I know, my love,” he whispered and kissed the tears running down your cheeks away. He slowly moved back and forth, but it still hurt when he tried to push further. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

His lips soothed your discomfort. Sherlock murmured gentle words while pressing into you. He panted against your lips when he was finally fully sheathed inside your cunt.

He gently cupped your face with one hand to kiss you deeply, and softly. Sherlock gave you time, to just feel his cock inside of your now spread-out pussy. “There you go, my love. You’re doing so well for me.”

You didn’t know if he told the truth. His huge shaft pressed against your wall, and all you could do was trust his words.

He smiled, before kissing you again.

“This is the tightest and sweetest cunt I ever ruined,” there was a smirk on his lips, and his eyes full of mischief. “You will scream my name tonight, wife. And tomorrow night, and every night from now on.”

You shuddered under his hungry gaze. His grin almost wolfishly he dug his knees into the mattress and started to rock his hips. Back, and forth, back and forth.

His thrusts were powerful enough to make you scream at the sheer force. It still hurt, but something else joined the pain. A pressure built in your abdomen, and warmth spread through your body.

“You will take me any time of the day from now on,” he growled against your already kiss-swollen lips. “That’s where you belong, wife. Underneath me, full of cock like the tainted whore you are.”

Something snapped in you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waistline and your arms around his back. Holding tight onto him for dear life. He was relentless and got faster and faster.

“Fuck, this cunt is going to be the death of me.”

You whimpered at his crude words. He called you whore, slut, and something you didn’t understand while ramming into you harder.

“I want you to come on my cock. Now! You’re my wife, my whore, and I will paint you with my seed.”

“Sir…Sherlock,” you mindlessly babbled while raking your nails over his back. And then, something happened. Pleasure. Pure pleasure forcing tears to spring free. “SIR!”

“That’s it, my love, my whore…my perfect wife,” he growled before kissing you hard. Warmth filled your cunt, and you whimpered against him, fearing you did something wrong. “Fuck, my child will grow inside this perfect womb, and I’ll fuck another into you while you carry it.”

Sherlock buried his face in your neck and collapsed on top of you. His cock remained inside, still spreading you wide.

“Sherlock?” You murmured.

“Perfect, my love. You were so good for me, wife,” he whispered against your sweaty skin. “I can’t get enough of this cunt, I’m afraid, you got me addicted.” You sighed when he finally pulled out to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to rest. “Sleep, my love. I’ll run you a bath.” He softly spoke to you and kissed your temple. “My beautiful wife.”

You soon find out that Sherlock’s hunger is insatiable.

Only hours after he took your flower, he had you again. This time he bent you over the desk at his study, telling you to hold tight onto the old furniture.

He shoved your skirts up, and slid into you from behind, growling your name as you wiggled underneath him. His thrusts are as powerful as ever he pushed into you.

“This is mine,” he growled and leaned over your body to whisper filthy words in your ear. To your shame, you got wetter with every crude word. Your mother would’ve been ashamed of you for enjoying being called a whore, and that you’re only a slutty hole he can stuff. “No one is going to touch you. You’re mine.”

“Husband—” you whimpered, mortified because his brother Mycroft stepped inside the study. Your brother-in-law covered his eyes and retreated in a hurry.

“He needs to learn his place,” Sherlock whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. “You’re my wife, and he won’t interfere with our marriage ever again.”

Lips quivering you gave in to the pleasure your body greedily accepted. Your eyes filled with tears you feared your brother-in-law would now believe you’re no better than the painted ladies offering their service in dark alleys.

“Brother, that was more than inappropriate!” Mycroft yelled loud enough for you to hear his words at the library. “How could put your lovely wife in such a position.”

“That’s right,” Sherlock possessively growled. “She’s my wife, and I take her in any position I want to.”

“Sherlock, you know that’s not what I meant. I know about wifely duties, and that you always had a stronger libido than it was good for you. But she’s a lovely and innocent flower. You cannot…”

Sherlock only smirked.

“My beautiful flower is not of your concern.” He stepped closer to his brother to glare down at him. “You will only address her as Mrs. Sherlock Holmes from now on, and only when I’m around. I saw the way you looked at her. She’s my wife, my love! I love her, and you cannot threaten our luck!”

Your heart fluttered at Sherlock’s words. It was the first time he admitted he loves you in front of someone else.

“Brother, I only want you to treat her with respect and love!”

“I do,” Sherlock bit back. “How I fulfill my husbandly duties to produce an heir is none of your concern either. Not everyone only wants to put their seed in a woman’s womb. I want to hear her scream, whimper, and moan because I make her feel so good. This is nothing to discuss with my brother, though.”

“Just never mention it again,” Mycroft lowered his voice. “Sherlock don’t overdo it. She’s still an innocent flower. You cannot mount her like some animal.”

Sherlock smirked, remembering how you begged him for more and praised his name before his brother stepped inside the room.

“Husband.” You get up from the chaise longue and put the book you read aside. “How was your brother’s visit.”

“Short-lived,” he replied, eyes drifting toward the book you read. “The Romance of Lust.” He mused, making your heart drop. “I see you have developed an appetite too.”

“I’m sorry, husband…”

He chuckled, deep and rich. “What did arouse you while reading this book?”

“He—” You shook your head, unable to tell him about the young man kissing a woman’s cunt with his lips.

“I read the book a long time ago.” He lifted your chin with his index finger. “Would you like me to put my mouth on you too?”

You nodded eagerly, already tugging at his trousers. “Please, Sir.”

“Sherlock. You will call me Sherlock from now on,” he purred and claimed your lips in a soft kiss. “Let’s get you comfortable and see if your other lips taste as good as these…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

#sherlock holmes #henry cavill is sherlock holmes #smut #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x wife!reader #sherlock holmes x you #x reader #sherlock holmes smut #Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)

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thisismeracing · 10 months

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okay but a request for a new face around the paddock and Lando having a huge crush and gets some assistance to ask her out 😔

Hi, love!! <3 Since you didn't specify if it was a smau, a blurb, or a full imagine, I decided to go with a blurb, 'key? I hope you like it!! *mwah*

New girl | LN4

― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (sher/her) ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol, getting stuck on the roof, and typos; ― my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ― check some exclusive pieces here ― you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Someone was playing early 2000s remixes, the sound escaping to the roof where Yn was sitting, nursing a half-full red cup. She was a bit tired. It was her first week attending a race, and things were more hectic than anticipated, though Charles told her it was crazy when you weren't used to the pace.

Still, she was looking for the next Sunday. The next plane ride, the next country to explore.

"Oh- hey," Lando waved after opening the door and finding her sitting in one of the small couches. His face read surprise with a tinge of confusion, but, in reality, he knew she would be there. Carlos told him as much. His friend actually encouraged him to go after her. Lando was infatuated the second he saw her, and when he discovered she was Charles' friend he was quick to ask Carlos for help, which coming to think about now wasn't the best idea.

Maybe he should have asked Charles instead. He probably knew her better. She was the new girl for Carlos too, having just met her the same day Lando did. Or just tried to get to her without any help, but then again, she was so beautiful and so cool, he felt like the whole paddock stopped the first day Yn showed up, though rationally he knew things kept going as usual. He was the distracted one.

"Hi," she waved back, a small smile gracing her lips before she took the cup to her lips sipping whatever drink she was nursing.

"Can I- huh- Can I stay here too?"

Yn nodded, "It's a bit packed in there, huh?" she asked before patting the spot beside her. "Carlos told me I could get some air here instead of in front of the house, the air is flowing good there, but there's still too much noise- and drunk people," she ranted, and Lando thought it was cute the way she would explain things he hasn't even asked yet.

"I'm Lando," the British extended his hand to her, and they shook it right before she said her name as if wasn't etched on his mind, and he sat beside her.

"I know," there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "There's only twenty of you, and you happen to be really close to my friend's teammate."

He chuckled, taking a pull from his beer, and sensing someone behind him. When Lando turned he saw Carlos and Charles at the door, and before he could stop them both, the noise of the door closing echoed around.

"Shit."

"Was it the door?" Yn asked, getting up.

"I think the wind closed it," he tried to keep it cool, even though he was finally understanding why Carlos had asked to borrow his phone.

"Can you call one of the guys to open it up?" she asked, and then added, "For when we want to get back...I'm fine for now."

He smiled, and then his face twisted in a grimace, "I forgot my phone with the guys."

"Mine doesn't have any signal here," she stated, but didn't seem too worried.

"Do they know you're here?"

Yn nodded, "You?"

"Carlos will probably come looking for me any minute now," he tried to convince himself, taking another pull from his beer.

They sat in silence for a beat, the wind making their cheeks cold and the noises of the party muffled by the distance, until Yn started talking about racing, Lando following the train, catching the ride and the opportunity to talk with her and not embarrass himself trying to figure a good topic.

"How do you keep up with all the traveling?"

He chuckles, "Sometimes you don't."

"Oh-"

"Yeah, it can be tiring for the drivers as well, but we just...get used to it I guess. Most of us- all of us, have been driving since we were kids."

"mmhhh, so a bunch of outlaws?"

"What?"

"Driving when it wasn't even legal yet," and she answered with a straight face, no hint of amusement, so much Lando thought she was talking serious, and when he opened his mouth to explain, a nervous look crossed his features, Yn started laughing.

"That was a terrible joke, but you fell for it so..."

"Horrible," he shook his head with a small smile, tipping his bottle upon his mouth. "How about you? How are you keeping up? Are you coming for the next race?"

"I'm exhausted. But I'm also excited about the next stop. I'm definitely joining. I'm just getting my maps ready because Ferrari has a bunch of media stuff this next week and Charles won't be able to be a huge company in exploring...not that he was a big one this last week, but, yeah."

"I can go with you...that is if you want, I can keep you company, I know the next stop pretty well, I used to go there on vacation with my family during my teenage years," Lando shoots his shot, half expecting her to let him down gently, but Yn gifts him with a bright big smile.

"Would you?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Perfect then," she crossed her legs sitting more comfortably on the couch, neck resting on the headrest, while she watched the dark sky above them. "Now, tell me about your side gig- Carlos told me you're into DJ stuff?"

Lando crossed his legs too, his shoulders aligned with hers, staring at the sky as well. He turned his head to the side, and she was already looking at him. He bit his lips to keep the infatuated smile from showing and started telling her about the things he liked to do besides racing. Yn shared with him as well. She told how she and Charles had met, how she loved music, and though she was into sports, she didn't practice any. She told him about her family, studies, and job. And Lando listened to everything attentively, feeling his silly little crush grow with each giggle and look she shared.

A couple hours later, when Carlos and Charles went to check, Yn had her head on Lando's shoulder, both were sound asleep on the couch. The Ferrari duo snapped a picture, and a high five for playing cupid to what would eventually become one of the paddock's favorite couples.

#ln4 #lando norris #requests #millies inbox #anon #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one imagine #f1 x you #formula one fanfic #lando norris fluff #millie writes #op: blurbs #formula one x you #formula one x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic

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bumblesimagines · 2 months

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Love Quinn

maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

i didn't have time to get involved in anyone.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical You warnings, mentions of the murders of Delilah and James, mentions of grief over spouse's death, mentions of wanting to cheat/have an affair

"Oh, Love!"

The automatic deep inhale the brunette had to do only made her rethink her choice to move to Madre Linda. She thought a quaint small town with beautiful suburbs and far from the mess left behind in LA would help her settle into her new life as a mother and wife. If only the real estate agent had mentioned the irritating vipers itching to drain the life out of anyone who stepped foot inside the town.

Plastering on her most genuine-looking fake smile, she spun around to face Sherry and her minions. "Hey! How are you?" She asked, her voice going higher in pitch as she leaned in to hug Sherry and each of her equally fake friends. They all smiled back at her, their smiles full of feigned glee and eyes eager to find anything amiss.

"We're doing amazing now that our favorite florist is back in town," Sherry revealed, her arms looping around Love's and pulling her along. The giggles and whispers exchanged by the other girls, along with their big coy smiles, told Love Madre Linda's florist was either the most miserable man around or the happiest.

"So, The Lotus is finally open for business?" Love questioned, her memory flickering back to all the times she passed by the prettily decorated flower shop in town where the sign on the window always remained flipped on 'closed'. Every once in a while, she'd catch an elderly woman shuffling into the shop and spraying some of the plants with water, but the only time Love managed to catch her for a chat, she'd only been told the shop was closed until the owner returned from out of state.

Sherry nodded eagerly, her soft pink-tinted lips stretching out into what Love could only describe as a flirtatious smile. "(Y/N)! Ugh, my god, you missed so much, sweetheart!"

Immediately, Love's eyes darted forward, her desire to rush back into Joe's arms and complain about their neighbors zapping out of her when she laid eyes on a man she'd been searching for since James's death. She'd searched for him high and low, visiting each social media site she could think of in desperate search of any information, but of course, no first name was ever truly unique. Her friends in LA had told her the obsession was unhealthy, something caused by her grief that forced her to latch onto him; they never truly did learn of the real her.

The memories remained vivid in her mind but how could they not when it was all she ever thought about? Joe had been a lovely distraction, a revelation that others who loved as deeply as she did exist, but she often let her mind wander onto the man who'd strolled into Anavrin with a quiet demeanor and an aura of mystery. She'd been deep in her grief and guilt over James's death when he appeared in the doorway, the light of the setting sun casting an angelic halo over him that drew her eyes to him instantaneously. She'd been a goner the second their eyes met and while she'd been able to enjoy his presence the following days, he disappeared the day after she finally learned how his lips tasted and his hands felt on exposed skin.

"I'm sure I did, Sher." (Y/N) released a quiet sigh heavy with exhaustion and turned his back to the snack table to face them. He looked over each of the women present with lips pulled into a faint polite smile until they locked eyes, and Love felt that rush go through her veins. She'd felt it with Joe once in LA but it'd simmered down immensely after Delilah's death and Henry's birth.

"This is Love Quinn-Goldberg," Sherry lightly squeezed her arm. "She and her husband, Joe, moved in while she was expecting their adorable little son, Henry. Love, this is (Y/N) (L/N), our resident florist. He can be a little grumpy at first but trust me, he's a gem once he warms up to you."

From the way (Y/N) squinted his eyes slightly and pursed his lips, Love assumed Sherry certainly hadn't reached that point yet.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Quinn-Goldberg," He stuck his hand out, the familiar warmth of his touch surrounding her when they shook hands; a warmth she'd once felt when his hands had touched her skin, palms pressing against her and fingers gripping firmly yet gently enough to avoid leaving marks. "You can pop by The Lotus any time and I'd be happy to help with whatever you need."

"Thank you," Love spoke softly. "A-And Love is fine. Quinn-Goldberg can be a mouthful."

"Well-"

"Actually," Love interrupted Sherry swiftly, wriggling her arm free and stepping forward, the subtle smell of his cologne hitting her like a truck. "I, uhm.." She swallowed thickly. "A friend of mine is hosting an event and she's been asking if I knew anyone who could help with floral decorations. Would you mind if I asked you some questions so I can relay back to her?"

(Y/N) stared at her in silence, glancing away to spare the other women the smallest bit of attention before nodding. "Yeah, sure, come this way."

His hand landed on her midback, high enough to appear polite but the touch still sent a shiver down her spine. Her lips pressed tightly together in hopes of fighting back the urge to smile, her eyes angled toward the ground as they walked out of the backyard and into a more quiet spot within the house. She hardly knew the hosts of the party but they'd been kind enough to send her and Joe an invitation to their tenth wedding anniversary so she felt inclined to accept, and boy was she glad she had.

Sparing a glance over her shoulder and raking her fingers through her hair a few times to tame the strands that'd gone rogue, Love subtly took in a deep breath and faced him in the hallway, her back pressing to the wall. She drank him in for the first time in a long time and felt a nostalgia and feeling of familiarity she dearly missed in the chaos of a new home and new faces.

"I never thought I'd see you again after.. after everything that happened. I-I thought we'd had a good time together and then by the time I woke up, you were gone. I hoped you'd show up again but you never did." Love's brows furrowed slightly. "What happened?"

"It's.. complicated, I guess. I went to LA to escape this nightmare of a place and figure out what I wanted to make of my life. I didn't have time to get involved with anyone, not when I barely knew what do to with myself." (Y/N) sighed heavily, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat and his head tilting back to gaze over the ceiling. "It was shitty to leave like that but my grandmother called me to ask me to take over the shop for her here and I thought maybe it was a sign that I was meant to stay here. LA was hectic, anyway. At least Madre Linda is predictable, and that's probably the only comfort I can give you about this place."

Love chuckled breathlessly, a certain exhaustion lingering in the air. "Maybe... maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.. a- a friendly one, at least. You're the only person here I know and the only one I can trust not to gossip about me." A friendly date... that could lead to more. She could feel Joe pulling away from her with each passing day, it was only fair she had her own fun.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #you netflix #you #you netflix x reader #you x reader #you x male reader #you netflix x male reader #love quinn #love quinn x reader #love quinn x male reader #love quinn x you #love quinn x y/n #love quinn-goldberg #love quinn-goldberg x reader

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himegureisu · 6 months

Text

4 | the Woman

Summary: There are times when cases need a woman's touch. This is where you finally introduce yourself to your brother-in-law. This is set at the end of S2 E1 A Scandal in Belgravia.

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Female Reader

<< PREV | NEXT >>

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“There are people we can get into this,” Mycroft said,

“I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try for six months,” she bragged, “Sherlock, dear, tell him what you uncovered through that x-ray of my phone,”

Irene Adler, professionally known as the Woman, a dominatrix of significant influence was obvious. Her only advantage was the fact she was playing against men.

Half a year, the Holmes men stumped at what to do. What a sight, however, it’s best to end their misery.

The Woman hands over her list of requests. However, that’s not going to happen, not on your watch.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Can’t I join in the fun?” you said.

Their eyes shifted as you entered the study in your battledress. Her exchange pauses as you stand behind Mycroft. Your brother-in-law quietly observes and thinks by the fireplace. His head towards the three of you.

“I did hope Sherlock would get this one,” you sighed, as you stretched your hand out to Irene, “May I?”

“Be my guest,” she offered.

“You’re rather transparent,” you twirl the mobile in your hands, “You don’t need a genius to unlock this. Just a woman that understands her kind,”

“Oh, do go on,” she stands, to sit on the edge of the table.

“There are times when women are affected by their interests. Others would say this is a disadvantage. Yours are the Holmes men, specifically, Sherlock. There was no other way to get to Sherlock without committing a crime except in your profession, you could pursue a different avenue,” Your eyes rest on Mycroft as they start to figure it out, “Two birds in one stone. Agitate the older brother, you get the younger. Women play a different kind of dirty and you played a game against men that was your advantage. God, did you pull their strings well but that ends tonight. The psychology of women, gentlemen, is that the most obvious is sometimes the most overlooked,”

“Craving the distraction of the game I sympathize entirely but sentiment?” Sherlock stands, walks over, and reaches out to you for the phone which you finally hand over, “Sentiment is a chemical element found on the losing side,”

Oh, Sherlock how wrong you are on that. Love and sentiment can be an advantage.

“When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait,” Sherlock mused, facing the Woman, “How true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements, but this is far more intimate. This is your heart, and you should never let it rule your head.”

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?” you interjected.

“Everything I said, it wasn’t real,” she whispered, silently pleading to Sherlock, “I was just playing the game,”

“This is just losing,”

I AM SHER LOCKED

“Thank you for the additional information,” he addressed you, “It was enlightening,”

“There you are, brother,” he passes the device to Mycroft, “I hope the contents may make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight,”

“I’m certain they will,” Mycroft assured. His brother started to stare out the window, “If you’re feeling kind, lock her up otherwise let her go,”

Willaim Sherlock Scott Holmes was nearly outsmarted by a woman. What a brilliant turn of events.

It wasn’t long until someone escorted the woman away leaving you to the Holmes men.

“I thought he wouldn’t get it,” you address Mycroft, sitting on the chair he previously occupied to observe Sherlock, “Then again if he knew where to look for the safe code, he would get it eventually,”

“Why are you here?” Mycroft said. You give a look and say, “You know why I’m here,”

“Who are you?” Sherlock asks.

“Do make a deduction, Mr. Holmes,” you challenged, standing up for a better view, “What can you say about me? Oh, I heard you’re quite good at this,”

His eyes quickly take a once over you. To the way you did your hair, makeup, and casual clothes. His brother, your husband, hovered on the other side of the table.

What will Sherlock say about you?

“On your dominant hand, your middle finger is calloused from how you hold your pen, suggesting office worker. In a high position, by the value of your shoes. Your makeup suggests you like to be presentable but not elaborate or gaudy. Your clothes are clean except for a few loose strands of hair. No pets. Your engagement and wedding rings, shiny and clean, happily married then. Your husband is successful in his career by the size of that diamond and…”

His ramble paused. His eyes meeting yours, you give a casual curious gaze. His senses were on overdrive, recognizing the particular scent of leather of a car that often escorted him to his brother.

“No, that’s not possible,” Sherlock withdrew, “Has my brother found himself a goldfish?”

“No, not a goldfish, brother mine,” Mycroft defends. His ring, matching yours, shines in the firelight, “No, she’s out of their league,”

“How long has that taken him?” you asked Mycroft, in front of you as Sherlock remained speechless, “A minute,”

“A good minute, yes,” he confirms, as he goes to stand by your side, “I do wonder why you decided to reveal yourself, my dear,”

“I was fed up. You two dancing in her tune for half the year,” you complained, “You ditched Christmas Morning traditions,”

“I promised to make it up to you, my dear,” Mycroft reminded, however, unable to act on his plans yet, “And I did return earlier than expected,”

“Six years, Myc! We never shirk on trad —”

Before you can finish your ramble, Mycroft leans in and presses his lips against yours in a tender kiss. It was a pleasant interruption.

One Sherlock didn’t appreciate.

Your eyes widen for a moment before you melt against him. Your arms wrap around his waist, returning the sentiment. Sherlock clears his throat, breaking the moment between you and Mycroft.

“Years?” he remarked, “I never knew the Iceman could melt,”

“No, just thaws from time to time,” you cheekily smile at Mycroft who rolled his eyes, “Are you two finished? I’d like to turn in before the sun comes out, ensures at least one of us gets sleep,”

“We are finished,” Mycroft affirmed, walking toward the door, “Do us a reprieve, brother mine, don’t take cases on the weekend. You don’t know what it does to our schedule,”

“It was nice meeting you, brother-in-law,” you teased, your smile caught him off guard, as you walked to Mycroft’s side. He didn’t remember the last time someone was pleased to meet him. They were often annoyed or irritated. “Have a good evening,”

His brother has been married for years, and he didn’t know. How could he not know?

“Shame I’d wanted to see the Woman in cuffs,” you comment, as you walk side by side through the halls, “It would have made for an interesting night,”

“Would you like that, my dear?” Mycroft asks.

“If you’re open to it,”

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