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look-at-the-soul · 2 months

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Every little thing you do- Part 1

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.

Word count: 2,977

Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.

“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.

“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”

This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.

“I wanted to see you.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.

“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”

“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.

“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”

“Where are we going?”

Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”

Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.

“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.

“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.

“Careful?”

“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”

“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”

“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”

“It’s not like that.”

“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”

“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”

“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”

Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.

“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.

”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.

“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.

“Arthur took them by mistake.”

“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.

“Yes, in a minute.”

Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.

“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”

Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.

“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”

She didn’t get a response.

Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.

Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.

The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.

This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.

Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.

A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”

Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?

“Careful.”

“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.

“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”

Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.

“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.

Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”

“Thank you!”

“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.

Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.

“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”

“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.

He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.

“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.

“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.

But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”

As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.

Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.

He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…

“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.

As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.

“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”

As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.

But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.

Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.

Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.

“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.

“What happened?”

“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.

A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.

“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.

Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.

A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.

“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”

Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.

“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.

“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”

Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”

“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.

“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.

Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.

Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.

Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.

Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”

“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.

Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.

Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.

But when he took a step back, she felt confused.

“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”

“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”

“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.

“How could you say something like that?”

“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”

He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.

Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.

Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.

She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.

“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.

Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.

“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.

“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”

“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.

Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.

A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.

“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.

“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.

Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.

“What happened?”

“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”

Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.

“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”

“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”

“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.

“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”

Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.

“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.

“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.

“Then what? What are we going to do?”

Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.

“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”

Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.

“What happened?”

“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”

Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.

“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.

“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.

Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.

Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.

He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.

“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.

John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.

Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.

“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”

“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.

“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”

Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.

Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.

“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.

He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”

Part 2

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bruisedboys · 1 year

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underneath kitchen lights — james potter x reader

summary — james has a crush on you, lily’s shy and unbelievably sweet coworker. you nurse a crush of your own. (based on all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine!)

or .. you got a slurpee for free, I caught you looking at me, in the 7/11 under fluorescent lights. I spilled mac and cheese on my pants, and thought about kissing you underneath kitchen lights!

contains — shy!fem!reader, florist!reader, strangers-ish to friends to lovers, rugby player!james, modern au, flirting, mutual pining, fluff, james being a total sweetheart, sirius being a twat and a good friend, wolfstar because I couldn’t resist, kissing, lovesick!james, idiots in love tbh, and ummm lots of references to all my ghosts!!

notes — um I am very nervous to post this. but also please don’t let it flop.

fem!reader 8k words

James has an embarrassingly big crush on you. For someone he’s only met twice now, you’re very good at getting stuck in his head. It’s hardly his fault — you’re lovely. You always smell like flowers (which is kind of a given, he supposes. You work with Lily at Harriet’s, the florist’s down the road). You’re very pretty. You’re quiet and a bit shy but you’ve spoken enough that James at least knows you’re polite and friendly.

He’s talked to you a grand total of one time. You’d exchanged a few words and James had been very very quick to fall in love with everything about you. Your hands as you wrung them in front of you — a shy tell, he’d guessed. Your voice, pretty and soft, and how it’d sounded when you said his name. The way you dressed, your hair, the quirk in your mouth when he’d made a joke, the hitch in your breath when he’d shook your hand. He was a goner the second he’d met you.

“Prongs,” drawls Sirius, followed by a hard punch in the bicep. “You know you’re not as subtle as you think.”

James scowls in the general direction of Sirius’ voice. He’d been staring at you, he’s sorry to admit. You’re talking to Lily and you’re smiling about something she’s said and you just look so pretty.

He badly wants to talk to you properly, he has ever since the first time Lily bought you around to a party like this one, but he’s scared of embarrassing himself. He’s not exactly the best flirter when it comes to girls he actually likes. His tongue gets all tied and he can’t say two words without ultimately embarrassing himself. He’s not as much of a charmer as everyone thinks he is. He’s also scared you won’t like him, but he won’t get into that.

“Shut up,” he advises Sirius, rubbing his sore arm. “I don’t even know what you’re on about.”

Sirius, sprawled on the couch next to James, rolls his eyes and snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, all sarcasm. “S’not like you’re burning holes into Y/N’s face or anything.”

For a split second James panics. He whirls around to look at you so fast he almost snaps his neck in half. Have you heard Sirius? Do you think James is a total creep now? No — you’re still engrossed in your conversation with Lily. James breathes a sigh of relief but it’s cut short when he realises Sirius is laughing at him.

“Mate,” he guffaws. “You’re hopeless.”

It’s James’ turn to roll his eyes. “Thanks a lot,” he says dryly.

Sirius grins with all his stupidly perfect teeth. “Y’welcome.”

James sighs and scrubs a heavy hand down his face. Maybe he is as hopeless as Sirius thinks. He’s certainly feeling quite hopeless right now. With you across the room and him sitting here unable to make himself get up and talk to you. As subtle as he can he twists to look over the back of the couch again to see what you’re doing. He’s just in time to see you disappearing into the kitchen by yourself, Lily now talking with the other girls by the ranch slider.

His heart rate spikes. This is his chance.

James is getting to his feet before he knows what he’s doing. He dodges another hearty punch from Sirius, pretends not to hear Lily when she asks him where he’s going, and follows you into the kitchen on clumsy feet like a puppy on a leash.

He stumbles into Lily’s kitchen and there you are. Standing with your head in the fridge, the bright white lights cast over your skin. And there’s a lot of skin to look at. Your shoulders, your upper back. There’s a beauty spot on your back, just next to your shoulder blade. Your dress floats just above the halfway point of your thighs. You’ve got really nice legs. James snaps his eyes back up to your head before he can feel too guilty and clears his throat.

You start and then whirl around, eyes wide as saucers, one hand curled around the fridge door.

“Oh,” you say, breathless. “James. You scared me.”

James is so busy melting over the way you say his name that he almost forgets to speak. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to.”

You shake your head and your big dangly earrings jingle like bells. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry.”

You smile all soft and pretty and James really thinks he might pass out. He steps forward and leans against the kitchen island as casually as he can, when really he’s using it for support lest he keel over.

You’re looking at him like you’re expecting him to say something. He clears his throat again.

“Um,” he starts lamely. He braves through. “I, um— you look really nice tonight. I wanted to tell you earlier but Lily’s been stuck to you like a leech since you got here.”

You blink at him and James worries he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe this was the worst idea he’s ever had. And he’s had a lot of bad ideas. But then you beam.

“Oh,” you say, shocked like you can’t quite believe it. Which should be impossible, really, James thinks. You’re beautiful. It’s hard not to believe it. “Thank you, James.”

James smiles back. Your shyness at being complimented only fuels him. “You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Lily I called her a leech.” At this, you giggle, and James stammers through his next words, dazed from your laugh. “So, uh— are you looking for a drink?”

He gestures to the fridge, which you seem to have forgotten about, the door hanging wide open under your grip.

“What? Oh,” you say sheepishly, and suddenly you’re embarrassed and staring at your shoes. “No, I’m…” You lift your head and blink at him under your lashes. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

James is perplexed, but he’s not gonna laugh at you if you don’t want him to. He licks his dry lips. “Yeah, I promise.”

You smile, then dip your head towards him like you’re sharing secrets. “I was cooling off,” you admit, sheepish. “It got too hot in the living room and Lily’s patio has mosquitos.” You hardly give him time to reply before you’re cringing, saying, “It’s weird, right?” Like you know he’s gonna think it’s strange.

He doesn’t think it’s strange. Well, maybe a little. But he’s been found in worse positions at parties. You look so embarrassed about it James is almost sorry he asked. Almost, because embarrassed you is adorable. You lean back and scrub your neck awkwardly, bracelets clanking on your wrist.

“No, I know,” he groans sympathetically, nodding vehemently. “Lily really needs a mosquito net or something, so we can open the damn door without getting eaten alive. Can I join you?”

You look baffled for a moment, and then shy all over again.

“You want to join me while I stick my head in the fridge?” You ask, an amusement to your tone that James adores.

James shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile outright then. “Okay,” you say, stepping aside so there’s more room in front of the fridge for him. “C’mon, then.”

James practically skips over to you. The moment he steps into your space he can smell your lovely scent. Flowery and sweet, something floral like hyacinth mixed with something sweet like honey. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he could drown in it. But there’s no time for drowning, not when your hand wraps around his elbow and pulls him into your side, your feet shuffling to accommodate him.

“Move closer,” you urge shyly. “You gotta get the full experience.”

James moves closer. So close his arm brushes yours and he could hold your hand if he wanted to. He very much wants to. He imagines your skin is as soft as it looks.

The coldness of the refrigerator washes over him and it’s actually really nice. Even though he can be a total party animal sometimes, he understands why you would be here instead of in there. It’s quiet in here. Nice and cool. No lingering scent of heavy wine. No Sirius to tease him and no Marlene to badger him with questions about his love life.

“This is nice,” he says quietly, over the gentle buzz of the fridge.

You giggle softly. James thinks he’d like to make you laugh a million times over. “Isn’t it?”

“Mm,” James hums. “I should do this at parties more often.”

You laugh again, delighted at his joking. “You should. Then I wouldn’t be so lonely when I escape to the kitchen.”

James laughs too. He can’t quite believe his luck right now, squished in front of Lily’s refrigerator with you, elbow to elbow, the rest of his friends and the party long forgotten.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” he says, smiling big.

The next time James sees you, it doesn’t go quite as well as previously. To put it simply, it’s a disaster.

First of all, he’s late. Remus and Sirius are having a housewarming party at their new place and he’s had training all day so he’d forgotten all about it. It’s not until 9:30, an hour after the party was supposed to start, that he’s climbing in his car after training and his phone buzzes.

He picks it up, exhausted, expecting one of his teammates. Instead it’s a string of messages from Remus.

You’re late James!!!!

We started without u. Where r u????

Sirius is gonna wring ur neck

James scrolls through the messages with a mixture of confusion and dread. Confusion because at first he has absolutely no idea what Remus is talking about. Dread when he realises.

He speeds all the way home, showers at lightning speed, pulls on a rumpled shirt and a pair of jeans that he’s sure aren’t clean, and he’s out the door within ten minutes of getting home. Still, by the time he gets to Sirius and Remus’ place it’s almost 10. His hair looks a mess but it’ll have to do. He doesn’t even think about the fact that you could possibly be there. That is, until he’s finished apologising profusely to his friends and Sirius mentions you. James perks up from where he’d been slumping on the couch, feeling exhausted and sorry for himself.

“What?” He asks, too loud. He tries to tamp it down but honestly, it doesn’t really work. He’s still buzzing with nervous energy when he asks, “Is she here?”

Sirius grins, looking uncharacteristically cat-like. “Uh— yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. His stupid grin only grows and James thinks he’d quite like to punch his teeth out. “She came with Lily. Moons thought we should invite her. She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”

James knows he’s teasing but can’t quite bring himself to care — the prospect of seeing you has demolished all other feelings of pathetic-ness. He leaps off the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, guessing that’s where you’ll be, a barely touched drink in his hand and Sirius’ teasing following him all the way. He’s so busy fixing his shirt before he sees you that he doesn’t see you. He walks right into you on the threshold of the kitchen.

“James!” You gasp, stopping short.

James’ drink, to his horror, has spilt all down your front. His glass, previously full, is now half empty, the rest of it splattered all over your white top.

You barely have time to be surprised before he’s apologising.

“Shit,” he curses, mind blanking. His hands go to fix the damage before he realises he probably shouldn’t touch your chest, where his drink is now seeping into your top and showing no signs of stopping. He pulls his hands back lamely. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N. Oh gosh. I’m so dumb, I—“

Your rush to forgive him is almost as quick as his apology. “No!” You shake your head and it’s awfully cute despite the situation. “No, it’s okay, James. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

James grimaces. He tries not to look at the dark red stain that looks like blood on your white blouse. It is quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve spilt on you.

“It’s okay,” you say again, softer, reassuring, probably clocking the pathetic look on his face.

“Don’t, angel,” James says, shaking his head. “S’my fault.” He grabs your elbow gently and starts to pull you out to the living room, seeking Remus, who he knows will have a spare t-shirt that’s at least clean. “C’mon, I’ll find you something else to wear.”

“Wait, James. Wait.” You plant your feet in the doorway of the kitchen and James stops walking. He looks back at you, feeling guilty, hopeless, confused, and a bit endeared by you still, all at once.

“What?” He asks as gently as he can when he’s feeling like such a loser.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble,” you say, biting down on your bottom lip so hard James is sure it hurts. You’re shy, he remembers. Quiet and polite. You probably don’t like people making a fuss over you, even though you should really. You’re pretty enough that people should be making a fuss over you all the time. “I think I’ll just go home, s’only a ten minute walk. I was going to leave soon, anyway.”

James frowns. “I can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head. He also can’t let you feel uncomfortable. He conjures a compromise. “Look, how about you wait here while I go ask Remus for a spare shirt? And then I’ll walk you home to make it up to you.”

He knows walking you home isn’t near enough to make up for ruining your top. But it’s the best he can do right now.

“But you just got here, didn’t you?” you say, frowning yourself.

James shrugs. That’s hardly a problem for him. “Don’t worry. I see those two asshats every day of my life, sweetheart.”

You still look unsure but James isn’t changing his mind. He’s going to walk you home if it’s the last thing he does. But first, something for you to change into. He leaves you in the kitchen and finds Remus, whom he asks for a shirt, to which Remus says, “What’s that for?” too loudly.

James explains what happened dejectedly. He’s not exactly surprised when Sirius laughs at him for it.

It’s a quiet walk to your place. You live close, which is both good and bad. Good because it means every time James is at Remus and Sirius’s, he’ll know you’re only ten minutes away. Bad … well, for the same reason.

James tries his best to fill the silence with easy conversation. It’s not hard, especially when you’re so sweet and kind and answer his questions so pleasantly. You’re easy to talk to. You don’t laugh at him when he slips on his words. You don’t make him wait for answers. You ask him questions, too, timid as you are about it.

James finds he enjoys your company even more than he was expecting. You’re like a breath of fresh air. You’ve got the radiance of an early spring morning and the softness to go with it.

It’s safe to say he’s disappointed when you come to a stop in front of your place.

“This is me,” you say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You’re in one of Remus’ band tees and James thinks you look much better than Remus does in it. As much as he loves Remus. He realises he’s staring too late, his eyes following you as you walk up your front steps.

You unlock your door and then look back at him, timid.

“Did you want to come in?” You ask, sweet in your shyness.

James would very much like to come in. He also thinks he might fall on his face if he spends much more time with you. He’s already dizzy on his feet and he’s been with you all of fifteen minutes.

“No, no, that’s okay,” he says as kindly as he can. “I should probably get back, or Sirius’ll have my head.” At least he knows where you live now. In a totally not creepy way.

He steps forward to take your wrist in his hand, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. He can feel your heartbeat. It’s not quite as fast as his feels but pretty close.

“I’m really really sorry about your top,” he tells you. He spreads his fingers over your forearm, your skin warm as late summer under his touch. “Can I do anything to make up for it? Buy you a new one?”

He wasn’t joking, but you giggle, your face lighting up, your eyes crinkling at the corners. James feels something akin to a mad swarm of butterflies in his ribcage.

“No, James,” you laugh, breathless and lilting. Your free hand lands on his forearm and his skin burns under your touch. “It’s okay, really.”

“Okay,” James breathes. His head spins as you squeeze his arm. Your skin is impossibly soft. You smell so nice. “But, seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do. It was such a nice top, it looked lovely on you.”

You flush like James knew you would. He’s slowly discovering he likes making you flustered more than he’ll admit.

“Thanks, James,” you say, and James imagines if he touched your face you’d be burning. “But, really, it’s okay. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. See you around, angel.”

It’s only after you close the door and James is at the bottom of the steps that he realises he should’ve asked for your number. He really is as hopeless as Sirius says.

James Potter is on your mind most of the time. You can’t help it. You’re not above admitting you have a crush on him. You are above admitting how big said crush is.

He’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Sure, you don’t meet a lot of people. But you’re sure if you did he’d still be one of the best. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s unbelievably charming. He’s a bit awkward sometimes and you like that, it makes you feel better about your own social ineptitude.

It also helps that he’s very very handsome. You would look at him all day if you could. He’s all dark, velvety skin, inky curls that you’ve imagined weaving your fingers through more times than you can count. Deep brown eyes turned bright with his ever-present smile. Thick eyelashes, a lovely sloping nose, a quirk to his mouth that you think you could get drunk on. He dresses well, too, though you’re sure he’d look just as good in a hoodie and sweatpants. Or nothing at all. You’d squashed that thought before it could go any further.

You don’t even mind that he spilled wine all over your nicest top. Sure, the stain is never gonna come out. It’s sitting in your closet, ruined. Embarrassing as it is, you smile every time you see it. James had made up for it tenfold anyway, walking you home and telling you he was sorry about a hundred times. It would be hard to not forgive him.

“Y/N?”

There’s a call of your name from the office door. You’re in here on your lunch break, not really eating more than you are thinking about James. Margaret, the older lady who owns Harriet’s but only comes in Thursdays and Tuesdays, is poking her head through the door.

“Hi, dear,” she says. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a customer out here asking for you? I can tell him to come back later, if you’d like, but he seems quite insistent.”

He. Of course, your mind flies straight to James. Which is ridiculous, you know, but it was already parked and idle at James, anyway.

“He’s asking for me?” You ask, perplexed. You don’t usually get personally requested by customers. And if it is James, you’re sure he’d ask for Lily instead.

“Yes, dear,” Margaret smiles, and she looks amused.

You get up because it’s your job, not because you’re hoping like hell it’s James. You put down your barely-eaten sandwich, brush past Margaret with a small ‘thank you’ and emerge into the shop.

There, standing at the counter, is James Potter.

“Y/N!” He says as soon as you emerge. He’s bouncy. Frazzled. You would even say excited. “Hi, lovely. I’m really sorry to barge in on you like this, were you on your break?”

“Oh, um, no. It just ended,” you lie. You still had a good ten minutes left. Not that you’re gonna tell him that.

James’ smile makes the lie worth it. “Perfect. ‘Cos I need your help.”

You think you physically perk up. Like a cat when it smells food is near. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“Okay,” you smile. You’re happy to help if it’s James you’re helping. “With that?”

James explains that he needs a bouquet, your best work, better than a boring one you can get at the grocery store because he really really needs this person he’s giving it to to like it. Your smile fades at this. At the fact that he’s getting flowers for someone else. He won’t tell you who this someone else is. He also won’t tell you why he’s giving it to them. You’re sorry to assume it’s a girl he likes. Possibly Lily? Maybe that’s why he asked for you and not her. You wouldn’t be surprised, they’re close and she’s gorgeous.

Of course, you help him anyway. You recommend flowers that last the longest, colours that go together, which ones smell the best. He’s asks you what your favourites are and ends up going with those, saying he trusts your judgment.

You have to admit it’s all very endearing. And you have so much fun helping him that by the time he leaves, arms full of a huge bouquet made up of all your picks of flowers, you’re beaming. Despite the daunting fact that he’s walking out of your shop with a bouquet for someone else.

Margaret appears once he’s gone. She’s got this big smile on her face that you can’t quite make sense of.

“He’s a handsome one,” she muses. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Your cheeks go redder than the roses on the shelf behind you.

Much later, you’re in the comfort of your small home, a bowl of steaming hot mac and cheese in your lap while the TV drones on. It’s some sort of romantic comedy that you can’t say you’re very interested in. Despite the lead male being very attractive. You’re about to change programmes when there’s a knock on your door.

You start. Nobody ever comes over. You don’t have many friends, and the ones that you do have, you tend to go over to their places, rather than the other way around. You’re so busy worrying about who it is that you haven’t even stood up before there’s another knock.

You get up off the couch, mac and cheese forgotten on the coffee table. You give your outfit a once over. You’re in sleep shorts and a hoodie that’s too big for you. Not your best work, but it’ll have to do. You fix your hair with little to no care and then open the door.

It’s James. You gape. You definitely should’ve paid more attention to your hair.

“James,” you say.

He beams right back, seemingly unaware of your sleepy appearance. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You stare at him. He looks pretty as ever. It’s only just going on sunset, and the colourful sky casts streaks of orange and golden yellow over his pretty face. The last bits of sun tangle themselves into his curls and drown themselves in his eyes. He’s dressed casual, but he still manages to pull it off, like you’d thought. A hoodie and jeans, a pair of beat up converse. He’s hiding something behind his back and you think you hear cellophane crinkle when he moves.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he’s saying. He doesn’t have your number. But Lily does. Is it crazy to think he’s maybe asked her for it? “Is this a bad time?”

His kindness reminds you how to speak. “Uh— um, no. S’not a bad time, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Are you— um, did you want to come in?”

You’re rambling, you know. He hasn’t even told you why he’s here and you’re asking him to come in.

James smiles kindly and it makes it all better. He’s good at that. At making you feel okay for being a bit of an awkward loser (your own words, not his, of course.)

“I’d love to come in,” he says, all smiles. “But first, I have something for you.” He pulls whatever he’s been hiding out from behind his back and offers it to you between your chest and his. “To say I’m sorry about your top.”

You blink. It’s a bouquet. It’s the bouquet. The one you’d helped him put together. The one that has all your favourite flowers and colours and smells because despite you thinking it was for someone else, you’d still wanted the best for James. You blink again.

“James,” you say, a little breathless, a lot speechless. “They’re for me?”

James laughs and you feel dizzy for a moment. He’s got a really nice laugh. “F’course there for you, sweetheart. Who else?”

He makes you take them from him, one of his hands guiding yours around the stalks. His skin is warm and sets yours on fire. You’re surprised the bouquet doesn’t go up in flames when you take it from him.

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter. “I thought …” you don’t finish your sentence. You’d thought they were for some other girl who’d caught his eye. You change tactics mid sentence, “They’re lovely, James.”

“I know they are, dove. You picked ‘em out.”

You giggle then. He’s the sweetest boy on the planet, you decide. He let you pick out your own flowers, and you didn’t even know it. You’ve never properly been given flowers before, despite working at a florist’s. It’s a new feeling. Like a star burning in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to go out. It hovers in you ribcage and stays there, buzzing madly.

“Thank you,” you say, lifting your eyes to his. You find he’s already gazing right back at you. There’s a rogue curl falling over his forehead that you’d love to push out of the way. “Really. I love them.”

James flashes you a boyish grin. “Good, ‘cos if you didn’t, I’d have to have a word with the girl who chose them.”

You’re still beaming when he comes inside. He follows you into the kitchen, where you find a vase for the flowers. You set about taking them out of their packaging, cutting the stalks and putting them gently in the glass vase filled with water.

James watches you and you can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant about it all, about being in your space, but his eyes scan your kitchen like it’s a map he’s trying to figure out. Your mismatched mugs on the counter. Your magnets and Polaroids and receipts on the fridge. Your overgrown plants on the windowsill.

You carry your flowers to your small living room and put them in the dead center of your coffee table. The bouquet is so big it would block most of your view of the TV if you sat on the couch. You hardly care. You’d rather look at them than the TV, anyway.

Setting the flowers down, you spot your half eaten mac and cheese and hope James doesn’t take you for a slob. You’re lucky he didn’t catch you on a Friday night. You’d be drowning in ice cream, probably.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him, half hoping he’ll say no, because who in their right mind asks their crush if they want macaroni and cheese? It’s so lame, but you can’t take it back now. “I have mac and cheese, but that’s about it, sorry.”

You cringe and wish you’d held your tongue, but James beams.

“I’d love some mac n’ cheese,” he says. “Unless it’s boxed, that shit tastes like cardboard.”

You get him some mac and cheese, glad you made it yourself, gladder you haven’t resorted to boxed food just yet. The two of you sit in the kitchen on your tall kitchen stools under your golden lights and eat. James is easier to be around than anyone you’ve ever met. He makes you feel special but not to the point where it’s too overwhelming. He’s kind and he’s golden, he acts like you’re the only person he ever wants to talk to.

Watching him eat in your home is more of a pleasure for you than you’d like to admit. He compliments your cooking. He says he likes the bowl he’s got, which is a white one with pink flowers all over it that you bought at a market ages ago. He gets a string of cheese dangling from his lip and makes a dorky face trying to get it into his mouth without using his fingers. You think you’d like to kiss him. His lips all puckered and eyes crossed as he attempts to scoop the cheese into his waiting mouth.

You’re so busy laughing at him that you don’t notice your own bowl balancing precariously on the edge of the counter. When you go back to take another spoonful, your hand knocks the bowl and it goes tumbling. Right into your lap.

“Shit,” you curse, gasping when a dollop of hot pasta lands half on your thigh and half on your shorts. The sauce spreads like wildfire over the fabric of your sleep shorts. Why do things keep spilling on your clothes when James is around? It’s becoming a theme. Your horror grows when the bowl clatters to the floor and while it doesn’t smash, it spills mac & cheese everywhere. “Oh, shit, that’s embarrassing. Um.”

You bend to clean up your mess but James beats you to it.

“Here, let me,” he says. He slides off his chair and is quick to start scooping up the ruined pasta.

“Sorry,” you stutter, standing helplessly as James cleans up your mess for you.

“Don’t be,” James shrugs and looks up at you, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles kindly. “Go change, I’ll sort this out.”

You feel an overwhelming rush of gratitude and affection for him that makes you want to kiss him stupid. You don’t. Instead you go down to your room and find something to change into. Seeing as he’s already seen you in your sleep shorts, you suppose your checkered flannel pyjama pants aren’t really much worse. Nothing can be more embarrassing than what’s just happened, you decide.

By the time you’ve changed (plus spent a lot of extra time staring at yourself in the mirror, practicing your smile), James has cleaned up the spill and is washing your bowls in the sink. You decide then and there that you like him a lot more than you’d initially thought.

You emerge into the kitchen on light footing. You feel like a magnet being drawn to him like this. It’s bizzare, how much you want to be around him, no matter how shy he makes you. It’s something you’ve never experienced before. A rip in the ocean calling your name. You know of the danger but you don’t really care. You ignore the signs because he’s James and you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body. The warning signs basically don’t exist.

“Thank you, James,” you say, standing on the threshold of the kitchen.

James flashes you a big smile, up to his arms in soap and suds, scrubbing away at a bowl. He looks like a house husband. It’s almost more than your heart can take. “That’s okay. Hey, nice pyjamas. Y’look good.”

You can tell by his tone he’s not teasing. He’s being genuine, which is somehow worse than if he’d been teasing. Your smile is so big it hurts.

James is gonna kiss you tonight. He’s sure of it.

So far, all of his advances have gone well. Perfect, even. Unless you count the drink-spilling incident, but if it hadn’t been for that he’d probably never have found the courage to get you alone again.

He’s taken you out to lunch once. He’s been into your work twice, not including the first time. He’s invited you to his rugby game tonight, to which you’d said yes more enthusiastically than he’d expected. It’s not exactly a date, per say. But he’d wanted to see you today and he had a game and his coach would blow his head off if he’d missed it for a girl. No matter how lovely said girl is.

He’s waxed poetic about you to Sirius and Remus more times than he can count. He’s yet to kiss you. Sirius thinks this is beyond absurd.

“So you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He asks, incredulous. He’s in his rugby kit, hair up in braids, chugging a Gatorade though the game hasn’t even started yet. “What’s the hold up, mate?”

James groans. Sirius is yet to understand that some people don’t like to jump into the deep end before they’re ready. “I don’t want to scare her off,” he explains, straightening up from where he’d been tying his laces.

“Oh yeah, you’re reaaally scary, Prongsie,” Sirius drawls, dripping in sarcasm. He rolls his eyes and then clasps James’ shoulder. He’s surprisingly and uncharacteristically genuine when he says, “Look, I think she likes you enough that kissing her won’t scare her off.”

James blinks and looks up at his friend. “You think she likes me?”

Sirius makes a face. “Are you kidding? What other girl would want to watch you eat shit in a field with a dozen other sweaty guys?”

And he’s back, James thinks. Trust Sirius to be a sweetheart one second and as asshole the next.

Soon enough James is out on the field and he wants to say his mind is on the game and not you but he’d be lying.

For the first five minutes he’s distracted trying to spot you in the stands. Then the next ten minutes are spent trying not to stare at you. You’re with Remus, whom James is hoping isn’t relaying anything he’s ever said to him about you.

You look as though, to James’ extreme delight, that you’ve dressed up for this. In a pretty dress and a jacket that borders on being so big on you it swallows you up. Sure, you’d still looked pretty drop-dead in your pyjamas the other night. But this is another level of gorgeous.

The first chance he gets he bounds over to you, ignoring his coaches instructions to ‘stay with the team’. Most of the team has scattered for half time, anyway. James makes a beeline for you.

“You came!” He shouts as soon as you’re in shouting distance.

You grin and wave at him, brilliant and dazzling and so damn pretty in the early evening sun. You’re not far up the stadium and James is grateful he doesn’t have to climb too many steps — though he’d definitely climb all the way to the top row to see you if he had to.

“Hi, James,” you say, looking happy as a clam to see him.

James beams back. He wonders vaguely if he looks as lovesick as he’s feeling. He can’t even bring himself to care if he does. He’s lucky Remus is nowhere to be seen — probably loving on Sirius somewhere.

“Hi, angel,” James says, smiling around his words, which come out all sticky-sounding and fond. “I’m so glad you came.”

You beam and rock on your heels, looking one part shy and two parts delighted, your hands clasped in front of you like you’re not sure what to do now.

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. “I’m so happy to see you, I might explode if you say no.”

He’s joking, of course. Or maybe not so much. You nod, a tad vehement, James notices smugly.

“Yes, please,” you say, breathless.

James steps into your space, heartbeat a mile a minute. You smell like flowers again. Lavender, he thinks. He definitely doesn’t smell anywhere near as good. “You’re sure I’m not too sweaty and gross?”

You shrug. “I don’t care, James.”

“You should. You look lovely.”

You make a noise that sounds half pained and half pleased and it makes James’ heart skyrocket.

“Can you just hug me?” You ask, a hint of desperation in your tone that’s actually much more than a hint but James is trying to be a gentleman. “Please?”

James thinks if you keep this up (by this, he means, acting as though maybe you like him as much as he likes you), he’ll die on the spot. He hugs you. For his own and your sake. Wraps you up in a big strong hug that’s so passionate he accidentally lifts you off the ground slightly. You don’t seem to mind. Your arms weave around his neck like they were meant to and you hook your chin over his shoulder and go all melty.

James almost moans. He can’t believe how perfectly you fit in his arms. How your body melds into his so nicely. He’s big and firm and loud and you’re quiet and small in your own way. But it works, and James is so glad it does.

“How was work, lovely?” He says into your hair. Your hair, which smells like coconut and something sweeter.

“It was okay.” Your voice is quiet but you sound just as pleased as he does to be wrapped in each other’s arms. “Lily says good luck.”

“Hey!” This is Sirius, jogging towards the stands and the, for want of a better word, lovefest. “Why don’t I ever get hugs like that?”

James releases you but keeps a good hold on your waist, twisting to meet Sirius. “What? You want one too, Pads?”

He lets go of you and holds his arms out for a hug, half joking but also half serious.

“Not from you!” Sirius scoffs, backing away from James like his hug will give him an incurable disease. “From your pretty cheerleader over there.”

Sirius plants his hands in his hips and nods his head towards you where you’re standing behind James. James doesn’t need to look to know Sirius has probably made you embarrassed.

“She doesn’t want to hug you,” he says dryly, in an attempt to save you from his obnoxious friend. “Where’s your boyfriend? You can hug him instead.”

Sirius scowls but it doesn’t last long. You brush past James and it takes him a second to realise what’s happening.

“I’ll hug you, Sirius,” you’re saying sweetly. “C’mere.”

And to everyone’s surprise, you hug Sirius. James finds it both endearing and highly annoying. Annoying because Sirius is smirking at him over your shoulder, his hands on your lower back. Endearing because it’s apparent you’re trying to make friends with James’ friends and he couldn’t be happier. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as yours and his, though. And Sirius doesn’t quite lift you off the ground like James did.

James watches, reluctantly fond, as Sirius pulls away and smiles at you all kind and un-Sirius-like.

“Thank you, m’lovely,” he says, swooping down to kiss your cheek. James shouldn’t feel jealous, because Sirius kisses everyone on the cheek, but he does anyway.

His jealousy quickly fades when you practically skip back over to him, all smiles.

“Sorry about him,” James says quickly. He’s very used to apologising for his friends.

“No, that’s okay,” you shake your head and then take James’ forearm in your hand unthinkingly. Heat licks all up James’ arm.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. “Do you—?”

The shriek of his coach’s whistle cuts him off. Time to get back on the field, it says. James groans, long suffering, throwing his head back like he’s been resigned to the worst fate in the world. You giggle and it makes it all better.

James’ team loses the game. It’s embarrassing and then it’s not, because you bound up to him afterwards and give him a hug even better than the one at half time, gushing about how good he was, telling him it doesn’t matter that he lost because he played amazing, anyway.

He sure feels like a winner as he walks with you to the parking lot, his duffel bag swept to his wrong side so he can walk as close to you as possible.

“I didn’t know you were so good.” You’re still gushing and James thinks he’s never blushed more in his life. “I mean, not that I didn’t expect it. You just never told me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Sirius,” James murmurs, feeling overly feverish.

“What? What’s that mean?”

James gestures vaguely with his hands. “I don’t go around bragging, is what it means. And I’m not that good. We’re just a local team, babe.”

It’s your turn to flush. Head to foot you go all shy. He thinks it’s the pet name that did it. And maybe the fact that he’s pointed out your gushing.

“Right,” you say to your shoes. “Well, I think you should play for the country, is all I’m saying.”

James laughs, delighted and a bit startled at your joking, but mostly just sick as a dog in love with you. “Really? Wow, you should tell my coach that, sweetheart. I think he’d totally agree.”

You pick up on his sarcasm and burst into giggles that make James’ chest want to explode. He realizes you’ve almost reached his car and puts his plan into action.

“Hey, did you drive here?” He asks.

You look up at him and James thinks he sees an inkling of hope in your pretty eyes. “No, I caught the bus. Why?”

“Did you want to go get Slurpees with me? I saw a 7/11 near your place the other night.” Then, because he really wants you to say yes, “I’m paying.”

Maybe it’s James’ wishful thinking but he’s pretty sure you light up like a Christmas tree. He really thinks if you keep doing things like this his head is gonna get too big for his body. You beam, looking like an angel on earth in the last fragments of sunlight, skin painted in an array of bleeding golds and pinks and oranges.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod. “Except you don’t have to pay for me, James, I have my card.”

James shakes his head, grinning as he fishes his keys from his bag. “Nah, don’t worry. Pretty girls get slurpees for free.”

He’s ninety-eight percent sure you freeze up like a block of ice as he unlocks his car. He has the generosity to not mention it.

The drive to the 7/11 closest to your place is quiet. But good quiet. James puts on the radio and is delighted when you start humming along like he’s not even there, your fingers tapping along the window where you’ve rolled it down, the wind brushing over your pretty face. He can’t quite get enough of you. Even just driving in silence with you feels like cloud nine. He’s enamored. Totally lovelorn. He’s surprised he can even drive straight.

When you get there he parks the car and then tells you to wait so he can open your door for you. He holds your hand to guide you into the 7/11. It feels like walking on air.

You both greet the guy at the cashier, you much more shyly, but James is learning you’re nothing if not polite. It’s practically empty inside, which James is glad for. How is he supposed to kiss you if there’s a bunch of strangers around? He leads you over to the slurpee machine with the excitement of a kid in a candy store.

“What flavour do you feel like?” He asks, grabbing a cup for you.

“Um,” you lick your lips and James wonders, not for the first time, how it would be to kiss them. “Grape, I think.”

“Grape?” He wrinkles his nose in pretense. “I’m more of a cherry guy, but I’ll let it slide ‘cos I like you.”

You giggle and flush, to James' extreme delight. He lets go of your hand to fill your cup for you, all the way to the top. He pops on a lid and a straw and passes it to you, cold condensation dripping over his fingers like raindrops.

“Thank you,” you say softly, taking the cup from him, your fingers soft as they brush his.

James gives you a big smile in place of a you’re welcome, then preoccupies himself with filling his own cup. He can feel your eyes on him all the while. Practically burning holes into the side of his face. His face, which feels like it’s on fire. He finishes filling his cup and shoves a lid on.

“Have I got something on my face?” He asks without looking at you, definitely teasing but he thinks you can take it.

You groan and punch him in the arm. Punch isn’t really the right word. It’s more of a brush of your knuckles. James hardly feels a thing. “James.”

James laughs, delighted at your reaction. “What?” He chuckles, picking a straw and turning to look at you. “You were—“

But you’re gone, turning into the candy section just in time for James to see the back of your jacket disappear. He follows you, grinning like mad.

“Y/N,” he says, sing-song.

“James,” you copy, with half the enthusiasm but twice the sweetness. He can almost hear you rolling your eyes.

James can’t help it, he snags your jacket in his fingers and pulls. You squeal as he twists you to face him, his hand coming to hook around your waist. Your slurpees get crushed in between your chests. James can feel the coldness of his soaking into his shirt but he hardly cares. You’re so close he could kiss you. He’d like to. It’s what he’s been trying to do all evening.

You’re gasping, breathless from the closeness and his sudden attack. “James,” you say again, panting. “What are you doing?”

James shrugs. “Nuthin’. Did you want some candy?”

You swallow and adjust your grip on your cup where it’s pressed to his chest. You’re staring at his lips. He’s staring at yours, too.

“No,” you say, your pretty eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. “I don’t want candy.”

James licks his lips, partly because he thinks he’s about to kiss you, but mostly to tease you. “Then what do you want?”

Your eyes follow the slow movement of his tongue. “Um.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, softer now. Less taunting. More sincere.

You stare at him. “We’re in the middle of a 7/11, James,” you chastise. But you don’t turn him down.

“So? There’s no one in here but us.”

He inches closer. His slurpee is probably spilling over with how much he’s squashing it but he can’t bring himself to check. He’s too transfixed by you, the hopeful look on your pretty features, eyes blown wide, lips slightly parted.

“Okay,” you breathe, hardly a word at all.

“Okay, what?” James says back, just as quiet. “I can kiss you?”

“Yes,” you nod once. Your hand ghosts over James’ elbow and he hopes you’ll grab it when he does finally kiss you. “Please.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He kisses you, and the very first thing he thinks is that he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Thrown himself in the deep end, chum for the sharks. Because it’s glorious. It’s better than he ever imagined, better than anything he could’ve conjured up in his mind. You taste like grape slurpee, sugary and sweet. You’re tentative like you always are, but it doesn’t mean you hold back. You let him kiss you as hard as he pleases, tilting your head up to meet him, gripping his elbow with your free hand like you never want to let go.

He kisses you firm but careful, passionate so you know how much he likes you but soft enough so you know he’s okay to go slow if you need to.

Soon enough the moment is ruined — James shouldn’t have expected anything less. The guy at the cashier is wondering aloud if James is planning on ever paying for the Slurpees now dripping condensation into both of your clothes and hands.

James sighs and goes to pull out his wallet, but not before pressing another kiss to your smiling mouth.

feedback and reblogs are very very appreciated! please please lmk if u liked it (but not if u didn’t ahahah) xx

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taintandviolent · 7 months

Text

feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage, and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin. “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…” He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…” You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

Ask to be added to taglist for future fics!!

#AHS Coven #Kyle Spencer #Frankenkyle #Kyle Spencer x reader #Kyle Spencer x you #Kyle Spencer x yn #ahs smut #halloween #zombies #lizzieshalloweenfics #myfics

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sofasoap · 6 months

Text

Teddy bear - 2

Pairing: John Price x F! Reader

Summary: A quiet home date with the handsome mutton chop. Part 1 here

Warning: M Theme. Alcohol use. otherwise generalised fluff.

A/N: Part of the 141Challenge!! Thank you @glitterypirateduck the wonderful CoD fanfic and fanart curator for organising another festival :D you are awesome.

Prompt used:

Kitchen

Thunderstorm/Rain

Caught in the rain

Trust me

John Price Masterlist

Masterlist

“Hello teddy bear lady, we really should stop meeting like this.”

The handsome stranger, later introduced himself as John Price, ended up exchanging numbers after you bump into him ( again ) at the pub.

Your niblings, especially your niece, were happy to see the “furry man” again, They couldn’t stop retelling the stories for days until your sister told them to give her a bit of peace and quiet.

Your sister was quite surprised when he showed up on the doorstep, picking you up for the date.

“Oh.. so.. He exists.” your sister elbowed you, she couldn’t contain the surprise on her face.

“.. you think I made up the whole story with the kids just to pull a prank on you??” you rolled your eyes.

“OHHHHH… your furry face feels so nice..!” Lizzy, your niece was again amazed by John’s facial hair and arm hair.

John smiled at her as he held his arms out and let your niece poke and probe at his hair and mutton chop.

“How about your legs? You say your legs are hairy too? Can I have a look?”

“Lizzy!” you chided. “Where are your manners! You don’t just go around and ask people to expose their body parts!”

“Well… you went on and on about it for days after about it too… Remember?” Your sister mumbled under her breath.

“I did not!!!” you retorted, face started to burn up with embarrassment. Shooting a look at John, who is quite amused by the conversation between the three of you.

Oh heavens. He must be thinking how strange your whole family is. Great. He is probably thinking of ways to bail out on you right now. But he just laughed as he retracted his arm and stood back up.

Surprisingly, he didn’t bail out on you. At the end of the night, he gently took hold of your hands, gazing softly at you with his beautiful blue eyes, quietly asking you on another date.

“I had a lovely time tonight. Can I see you again? I’ll cook for you. I can’t guarantee it will be michelin star quality but I promise you it is a lot better than the MRE ”

A man offers to cook for you? Who can say no to that?

You flinched as you felt the droplet of rain start hitting your face. Damn it, you thought, should have listened to the weather report and brought my brolly. Now I probably have to call for a cab to get to the station afterwards. You huffed. Shrugging off the tote bag around your shoulder, and cradling it under the long coat like some valuable treasure to prevent it getting wet.

Or maybe he would ask you to stay for the night, and you might get lucky for once…..

Shaking your head to get that dirty thought out of your brain, This is only the second date! Maybe I need to bleach my brain. Ugh, better run faster, hair is getting wet. You quicken your pace to run towards the destination before the rain starts pelting down on you.

Double checking the address on your phone as you come up to an unassuming house at the end of a row of terrace houses. Adjusting your hold on the tote bag, you took a deep breath in before you knocked on the plain looking dark brown door, and took a step back, squaring your shoulder, waiting for him to answer the door. Few seconds later you heard the hurrying footsteps before the door opened.

There stands John Price, in a black dress pants and simple navy blue shirt, sleeves rolled up, tea towel slung over his shoulder. How does a man always make the simplest clothing look so good?

Your eyes quickly flick down towards the half apron he had on. Tight around his waist.

That slutty waist.

Ok, you really need to get yourself into a nunnery after this to cleanse all these unholy thoughts.

Taking one look at your slightly damp coat and wet hair, John frowned. "I should have gone and picked you up, I am sorry." He apologises as he quickly ushers you inside. "I was too caught up in the cooking to notice the weather outside."

"No need to apologise, I should have heeded the warning from the weather bureau." you replied as he helped you to take off the coat and hang it up by the door. “I won’t melt like the wicked witch of the west with a little bit of rain.” you joked.

“I got the heater going, come inside and you should warm up, you must be cold.” John commented as he gently put his hand on the small of your back as he led you inside.

You glance around as you walk past the corridor and living room. It's a minimalistically decorated flat. There’s no television, a simple bookshelf, a three seater couch with a plain coffee table.

A bachelor’s pad that he hardly lives in.

“I don’t stay in this place a lot,” he said, as if sensing the question floating in your mind. “I also have a room I stayed in on site at the base if I work too late. Which is most of the time.”He chuckled.

“Bit of a workaholic?” You teased, remembering what the three other men’s words about their Captain the night at the pub.

“You sure you want to date him bonnie?” the mohawk man who the others called Soap asked. “The Captain is an absolute workaholic, if he isn’t out on the field training with the crew, he is stuck in the office, nose deep in paperwork. Sorry Captain. Not trying to interfere with your chance at luring a bonnie into bed…”

The other two nodded their heads in agreement. John just groaned and shook his head, clearly not amused at Soap’s jabbing. You actually find it quite endearing, how close the four of them are just from their interaction, despite the differences in ranks.

“Red or white?”

“Um. uh, red please…” you hastily replied as you broke out from your reverie, realising you are now standing in front of the kitchen. Setting down the container of baked goods onto the kitchen bench, you fidget your hand nervously as he pours you a glass of wine.

“Can I.. Can I help with anything?” you offered meekly, wanting to do something to distract yourself.

Shaking his head, he recorked the bottle and guided you to sit down on the stool. “I got it all under control. Trust me. I wouldn’t burn the kitchen down.” he smirked. “Just relax. Dinner shouldn’t be too long.” he reassures you before turning around and walking towards the oven.

A pleasant savoury aroma wafting through the air as he opens the open door to check the food inside.

“That smells really good.” you lean forward, inhaling the scent. “What’s on the menu?”

“Shepherd's Pie. with sides of vegetables and salad.”

He chuckles as your eyes brighten with the mentioning of the dish. “I know it’s your favourite. It’s the first time I made it.I hope It won’t disappoint.”

How does he know it’s your favourite?

The dinner turns out to be absolutely delicious. He was, you have to admit, quite a decent cook. you couldn’t help to let out a moan as you took a bite of the steaming hot pie.

The pie was well seasoned, the broccolini was well pan fried, and the salad was well dressed.

Everything was simple, but well done to perfection.

He chuckled as you quickly inhaled the portion of your pie. “I am taking that is a good sign that I have done this right?”

You took a sip of the red wine, washing down the delicious food, as you shyly smiled at him, slightly embarrassed. You are still slightly tense and nervous in a private environment.Just you, and him. You never had anyone else invite you to a date at their house before.

But part of you is glad he invited you over tonight. You get to see the real, more relaxed John Price side of him, without other people’s prying eyes, without him having to put up a front of being the Captain.

“Oh dear, it’s really bucketing down outside now..” you mumbled as the sound of rain hitting the window caught your attention. The two of you shifted yourself from the dining table onto the couch after dinner, to get more comfortable as you sip on the hot herbal tea, nibbling on the chocolate biscuits you have baked as a simple dessert. You reach forward towards the coffee table for your phone, checking for the next train timetable.

Your heart dropped when the pop up notice on the website shows all trains have been suspended due to the severe weather and heavy rain.

“Damn..nothing is running…” you groaned. You quickly open the ride share app to see if there are any rides nearby, it’s going to cost you a bit, but that’s probably your only way home now. Nothing was showing up either. You guess with how bad the weather is and even the public transports are all suspended, no one is going to risk their life driving on the road.

“Stay for the night?” He offered in a quiet voice as he saw your worried face, struggling to decide what to do.

“You take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” he quickly added as your eyes grew wide at his previous suggestions, as if afraid he’s giving you the wrong idea.

Forever a gentleman.

You shook your head as you replied, “Um, I’ll take the couch, this is your home, I can’t kick a host onto the couch!”

“I insist.” you were ready to debate with him, but one look from him ( the same look he gave to Soap and Gaz at the pub when they started to get a bit too rowdy) had you swallow down the words back in again.

So now, you are sitting on top of his freshly made bed with crisp clean linen. Wearing some old t-shirts and sweatpants he managed to dig up in the death of his closet. . You subconsciously bring the overhanging sleep up towards your face, taking sniff. Smells exactly like him. Slight faint cigar and cologne smell. Making you feel really relaxed, and safe.

“This looks very military style. Did you even manage to iron the bed while I was in the shower??” you teased as you inspected the crease free bed sheet.

“Old habit dies hard.” he blushed as he turned his face away, not looking at you. “If you need me. I’m just down the hallway.” he cleared his throat, trying to cover up his fluster as he bid goodnight to you. “Have a good sleep. I will see you in the morning.”

“John.”

“Hmm?” he turned towards you as he rested his hand on the door knob, eyebrow raised.

You shuffle yourself to the end of the bed, and walk towards him. Feeling brave, you reach your hands up, gently tugging him down to your height, and press a light kiss on his cheek, feeling his mutton chop tickle your face.

“Goodnight. And thank you for letting me stay.” you whispered, looking into his beautiful blue eyes after you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him.

His eyes flicker with emotion. Lips press tight, as if trying to control himself. Slowly letting out a breath, he pulls you into his embrace, kissing you gently on the head.

“Don’t mention it. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bug bites.”

The only thing that was biting you that night was a bug called love.

“Captain, you let her sleep alone on your bed??? Oh these biscuits are good”

“What a gentleman.”

“.. I’ll go make some tea. I hope you at least made her breakfast the next day.”

“Shut up you muppets. Get back to work.”

Sorry I was half brain dead writing this. Part 3 might come out... sometime... later.

Tag:

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator @random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @mmyrrhh, @gamergirlbones

@mistydeyes, @groguspicklejar,

@whydoilikewhump @captainpriceslover, @tapioca-marzipan @glitterypirateduck @caramlizedtomatoes

#call of duty #captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #sofasoap writes #141challenge

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runnning-outof-time · 9 months

Note

K, darling!! I'm sending you this one, because you sent me a gif, too ❤️❤️.

Probably Tommy is struggling with something, too. Feel you, Tom 🤝.

Thanks for sending this my way, Flor!! I truly feel Tommy here…this have been my exact reaction when thinking about writing/wanting to write these past few weeks - it’s gotten a bit better since you’ve sent this, but I still can’t help but struggle slightly from hour to hour. Since you went lighthearted on the gif I sent you, I figured I’d do the same here. I…really don’t know what came of it - like I said, writing has been hour to hour for me. But I hope you’ll maybe get a laugh from it. ☺️. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

A Much Welcomed Distraction

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, smoking

Summary: (Y/N) tries to get Tommy’s mind off of the work he’s been struggling with. Tommy, for once, accepts the distraction, until he realizes that maybe he will have to finish his work first.

No matter what he did, the words wouldn’t come out right. He’d been trying to figure out how to address the receiver of this letter for at least an hour now. Who would have thought that it’d be hard to write to the fucking Prime Minister of England? Tommy certainly didn’t upon initially thinking of the idea. Now here he was, stuck after a paragraph as he wondered if his word choice would be correct enough to get Winston Churchill to actually want to finish reading it.

He was so invested in his writing - or his attempt to do so - that he didn’t even hear the door opening. It wasn’t until he heard the voice of his wife that he looked up: “Lizzie told me you’d be in here.”

Tommy only nodded, just barely glancing up at her before focusing on the paper again. He didn’t miss the sound of her footsteps approaching the desk though.

“What’re you working on?” she asked him, coming to his side and leaning against the desk to take a look at the paper in front of him.

“A much needed letter,” he answered, exhaling a bit of a sigh as he slouched back against his chair. He could feel her lean in closer, perhaps to take a better look at the letter.

“Dear Mr. Churchill…” she started off, reading in a formal tone. There was a bit of a pause before the sound of her heels turning on the hardwood was heard, “you’re writing to the bloody Prime Minister, Tommy?” she asked, a bit of surprise laced into her words.

“I am, yes,” he answered her with a nod, glancing up at her before continuing, “expect there hasn’t been much writing happening,” he ended his statement with a sigh, bringing his left hand up to run across his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Well I can see why…it isn’t every day you write a letter to a man of that standing,” (Y/N) commented, her words making Tommy exhale a snort; one that she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at, “it’s an extraordinary feat, Tommy…I certainly wouldn’t know what to say,” she defended herself.

“It needs to get written,” he mumbled, reaching out to grab the half spent cigarette from the ashtray so that he could take a deep drag from it, “and it needs to happen before any other order of business comes up,” he concluded, smoke accompanying his words as he uttered them. He finished his stressed statement off with another drag before snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray. He then sat back again, exhaling another frustrated huff as he did so.

“I see…” (Y/N) trailed off, nodding her head in understanding. She had an inkling of a thought that this was business related. With every move Tommy made, he had to do the background work to make sure that it was well calculated and would turn out the way he wanted it to. Oftentimes he’d frustrate himself in the process of completing that background work. “It isn’t worth beating yourself up over though, I’m sure. Take a break, maybe?” she suggested. It didn’t come as much of a surprise that his reaction to her suggestion was an incredulous one.

“Hmm,” he hummed at her statement, and (Y/N) couldn’t really discern if it was a hum of agreement, or of disapproval.

“Maybe I can take your mind off of it then?” she offered another suggestion, biting on her lip to stop the grin from forming when his eyes snapped up to her face. “You liked the sound of that, didn’t you?” she questioned, letting her grin show as she sat her hand flat on the desk and leaned her weight against it.

“Love, I need to write this letter,” Tommy stayed steadfast on his priorities. Despite the dismay in his tone, he didn’t exactly disagree with her suggestion.

“Doesn’t seem to be much writin’ going on,” (Y/N) quipped back, her words making him quirk an eyebrow in her direction.

They held each others stares until Tommy exhaled another sigh. After running a hand over his face, he dragged his eyes up to her. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, his words coaxing a grin from his wife.

“I’m happy you asked,” she chirped, moving to sit down on his lap. Tommy welcomed her with open arms, his hands falling onto her hips so that she would be secure. “I was just thinking that maybe I’d give you a kiss…” she paused, her hands falling onto his shoulders before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, “…or two…” she kissed him again. A look of amusement formed on Tommy’s face. “And that maybe those kisses would help some ambition for writing to return,” she concluded, going in for a slightly longer kiss then.

“I thought you were working to distract me from writing, love?” he questioned her intentions when she pulled away.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his question. “I wouldn’t exactly say distract…” she paused, lifting her one hand to tap on her chin as a physical show that she was thinking on how to finish her statement, “instead maybe I’m giving you a taste of what’s to come later,” she ended off her statement with a quick, suggestive glance; one that Tommy most certainly didn’t miss.

“A taste?” he asked another question, his eyebrows now raised.

“Yes. Of what’s to come later…after you finish writing your letter,” she added more detail, biting on her lip as she watched to see if he’d catch the stipulation that she’d thrown in there.

“After?” the inflection in his voice showed that he most certainly caught the stipulation.

“Of course,” (Y/N) responded like it was no big deal, “you said it yourself, it needs to get written before any other order of business comes up…” she trailed off then, a smirk full on across her features now.

The way he was clenching his jaw told her that she was grinding all of the right gears inside of him at this moment. It honestly egged her on even more.

“(Y/N)…” he tried, a bit of a warning tone laced into his voice. It didn’t deter (Y/N) from her plan in the slightest though. She leaned in and kissed his lips one last time before managing to free herself from his grasp so that she could stand up.

“I said that I’d get your mind off of it…and I think that I just did. Don’t keep me waiting up, Mr. Shelby,” she sent him an innocent smile as she backed away from his desk. Tommy said nothing as she backed herself all the way over to where the sitting area of his office was. There, she grabbed her coat and put it on. Then she blew him one last kiss before turning and walking to the door without looking back.

Tommy didn’t exhale the sigh he was holding in until the door shut. He then looked back down to the paper sitting on his desk, wracking his brain in hopes that sentences would form. “Dear Mr. Churchill…” he mumbled to himself before he began writing like his hand had been possessed by another being; coming out with words and sentence structures that he couldn’t begin to think of earlier. On second thought…maybe it had been possessed by another being.

Either way, he managed to write the letter in its entirety without taking a break or even looking towards the clock. Considering it a done deal, he left it on the desk for himself to proofread tomorrow. Now he needed to get home to his wife, who had provided a much welcomed distraction and got him back on track.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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feasibilities · 7 days

Text

Forsaken | Thomas Shelby x Reader (NSFW) ⚮

Synopsis: Thomas eases his loneliness with a famous burlesque dancer. Warnings: False Imprisonment (technically), Assassination Attempt, Spanking, Pet Names, Exhibitionism, Desperation Author's Note: S6 Thomas Shelby? My man, my man, my man. Enjoy.

“Sorry, sir, but the show is over.” You said aimlessly, feeling the presence of a man.

“Not for me, it isn’t.” He retorted, rubbing a cigarette across his lips & lighting it.

Your head snapped back to the British gang leader turned MP, Thomas Michael Shelby. He looked quite different from the first time you saw him. He was starting to grey on the sides of his head and he sported wireframe glasses.

“A Member of Parliament coming to see a burlesque show. How appropriate.” You chided, crossing your legs.

“Just came to see what the buzz is about.” He said while looking you up and down. Your mink fur shawl sat low on your chest and Thomas hoped it incidentally fell to the floor.

“Well, you’ve came and seen. Have a good night, Mr. Shelby.” You dismissed him. You watched him stand there for a moment and then walk towards you. He lifted your chin and caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I’ll have you, and that’s the end of it. See you tomorrow.” He said.

——

Hearing a knock at the door, you opened it believing it was your car service. You met the somber gaze of one of Thomas’ goons. He took your suitcases from your hands and gently led you to the 1927 Bentley out front. He politely opened the door for you and guided you inside. You stared at Thomas with hatred. He smiled warmly and moved your hair from your face.

“No way to greet your beloved, eh?” He said.

“You are no beloved of mine.” You scorned.

“I will be in time.” He retorted as the car drove away.

You spent the long drive ignoring Thomas as he took you in. He had seen you many times on stage, but you were captivating up close. He had no qualms about taking you as Lizzie was long gone. What better way to alleviate a man’s loneliness than to spend time in a beautiful woman’s bosom?

Arriving at Shelby Manor, you were taken aback by the size of his home. An MP’s salary in addition to gang activity must pay well. You were greeted by friendly waitstaff and Thomas’ dog, Cyril. Thomas thanked everyone and told them to leave you two alone.

“Want a drink?” You asked while walking to the unnecessarily fancy liquor cabinet, feigning cordiality.

“I don’t drink anymore, but I appreciate the offer.” He said, admiring you from behind. Pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, you sat on the plush sofa. You sighed and stared at him intently.

“I’ll stay for the night if you pay me. We can negotiate starting with £1,000.” You explained.

“You’re staying for as long as I want.” He attested.

“Who do you think I am? Some harlot to keep you busy since your wife left you?” You questioned.

“I would’ve taken you over the vanity in your dressing room If that’s the case.” He said, adjusting his glasses. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was but you had to hold out to rile him up. You simply rolled your eyes and finished your glass in one go.

“Let’s head upstairs then.” You said, standing up. Thomas scooped you and carried you upstairs into the master bedroom. Your heart sped up at the feeling of his hands holding you securely. Laying you on the bed, he stared down at you as he removed his suit jacket. His gorgeous eyes were illuminated by the faint candlelight. You noticed the gun in his holster, but you wanted to distract him from it. You beckoned him to you with your index finger. He crawled on top of you and kissed you delicately. Taking a handful of his hair, you snatched the gun and held it to the side of his head. You pulled the trigger.

The revolver made clicking noises as you grew frantic. You wondered why his brains weren’t staining your silk blouse. Thomas laughed sweetly and took the gun from you.

“It’s not loaded, love. See that?” He said softly, flicking out the empty cylinder. He was eerily calm.

“Thomas, I-“ You started, fearing what could happen.

“Shh. You think you’re the first woman who wanted me dead?” He hushed you. You two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you kissed and rutted against him. He responded by shoving his hands underneath your blouse. A faint whimper emitted from you from his intensity.

“Need some discipline, yeah?” Thomas whispered against your lips.

“Not at all.” You fired back.

He snatched you up once more and put you over his knee. He slid your skirt up to reveal black lace panties with a tiny silk bow at the waistline. You felt him massage the supple flesh of your ass. You pushed back against his hand to antagonize him.

“Little bunny…” He purred. A series of harsh smacks landed on you as silent tears fell from your eyes. Arousal began to pool in between your legs. An inflamed imprint was left on your cheek. Thomas slipped his hand between your thighs and brushed his fingertips against your clothed cunt. Rubbing small circles, another faint whimper came from you. Then, he pulled aside your underwear and plunged two fingers inside of you. The silver band on his ring finger brushed against your clit as he pumped them slowly.

“Christ…” You moaned. He curled his fingers slightly making an indecorous noise leave your mouth. You wondered how he knew your body so well.

“Hush now.” He said, pumping his fingers faster. He grew hard at the squelching noises from your arousal. You were on the verge of climaxing before he removed his fingers and sat you up.

“What the fuck, Thomas?” You said annoyed.

“Stand in front of the window.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and followed his directions. You watched him undress in the reflection in the glass. His body was amazing for a man in his mid 40s. You hurriedly shed the rest of your undergarments before he turned around. Walking to you, he pressed you uncomfortably against the glass. Despite being a burlesque dancer, you were deathly afraid of being seen by his colleagues or waitstaff.

“Stay just like this, yeah?” He said, voice slightly beyond a whisper. He kissed your shoulder gently before pressing his tip against your folds. Both of you sighed in delight when he bottomed out. He stilled for a moment to compose himself. You rutted against him out of impatience. Thrusting deeply, he buried his face in your neck. Your mewls progressed to screams of delectation. Restrained groans occasionally left Thomas’ throat as he held you tightly and nipped your ear. Thomas snaked his hand between your legs once more and rubbed your clit vigorously. His loneliness became an afterthought as he finished you off.

#teehee!#my writing #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy #smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

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bunnyteetharry · 4 months

Text

Baby, I love you

summary: what was supposed to be a bachelorette party turned into y/n dancing her heart out and catching someone’s eye

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

pairing: stranger!arry x stranger! reader {+ to lovers}

inspired by baby, i love you by ramones

————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆

It was an eventful late night in Italy

You were here on a bachelorette trip for your friend, Dulce. After dinner, you wondered around town for bit and since it was starting to get chilly out, Lydia brought up the thought of hitting up a bar

You huddled up together as you walked into the cramp room. Everyone was laughing their heads off, taking shot after shots, living life.

“I’m gonna get us some starter drinks, grab us a table” you called out before scarring towards the bar, trying to maneuver in a crowded area is always the worst, but hey, you’re almost halfway there and as long as you don’t bump into anyone you’ll be fine

“Woah!” and there you go

“Oh! I’m so sorry” you smiled hoping the person you ran over wasn’t about to get upset , you’d be surprised, even when it’s an accident, people act like you just told them to hit the road

“You’re okay love, go ahead” the tall curly headed man motioned you in front of him so you could order first. “Thank you” you screamed over the loud music

After getting the drinks ringed up, you checked behind you to see if that green eyed man who looked like he was created by greek gods was still behind you, sadly disappointment filled up your face when you were just hit with a group of random people laughing

“And here is our savior!” Dulce cheered as she saw you with a tray of shots. With everyone grabbing one each, you raised your’s to the air “To the bride!” everyone rally with you and down their drinks

Meanwhile, a certain man was mind deep with the women he bumped into while grabbing his drink

“Oi mate! You good Harry?” Niall patted his friend’s back, bringing his out of his headspace, Harry tussled his hair before taking a sip of his drink “Yeah I’m good” he smiled. Lucas rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink “He locked eyes with a pretty bird on his way back here” everyone cooed at Harry and shook his by the shoulders “Oh fuck off” smiling slightly to himself

All his friends were joking around till he heard a familiar toon fill his ears, everyone in the bar looked confused at the song choice, some booing at the DJ. But what really caught his eyes was the girl in the middle of the room dancing on her own.

“That her?” Niall smirked and nudge Harry

‘Woah! Go Y/n!” A group of girls sitting in the corner shouted

Y/n was jumping around, dancing like it was just her alone in the room and as she twirled around, her eyes scattered the room and met Harry’s. She smiled and mouthed back the lyrics to him

“When you kiss me I just gotta, Kiss me I just gotta, Kiss me I just gotta say!” she moved her arms around her body and mindlessly pointed at him “Baby, I love you, come on baby, Baby, I love you, Baby I love, I love only you!” Harry smiled widely as he sipped on his drink, just watching the girl dance around with no care in the world

After the song finished, Harry got up from his seat, with the courage from his friends and two shots in between

Y/n was laughing as she walked back to her friends, taking one more shot before the tray was pulled away from her. “Oh you’ve had enough crazy girl” Lizzy laughed, Y/n rolled her eyes and picked up the water Dulce pushed towards her “I’m fine honestly, anyways we should do this again and-“ her friends cut her off as they pointed behind her

She turned and there he was

“Hi” he smiled down at her and gave her his hand “I’m Harry” y/n pushed back a few fly aways out of her face before smiling back “I’m y/n” her friend’s snickered quietly behind or at least they tried too “Watch them be married four years from now” she turned quickly at the glaring and shushing them before turning back to Harry who is laughing along with them

“Wanna get a drink?” He motioned to the bar across from them “I’d love that” he nodded smiling and laced his hand with her’s, guiding them to the bar stools

Little do they know, her friends were right, the pair came to Italy on their honeymoon to the exact same bar and played the same exact song from when they first met, reminiscing to the days that led them to now

a/n: this was so much fun to write, i hope you enjoy it as well! ALSO request are open

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #hshq #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #x reader #strangers to lovers

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oizysian · 2 months

Text

Don’t Fight With The Birthday Girl

Summary: It’s Lizzie’s birthday and you have a special surprise for her

Word count: 2k

AN: I wrote this a few years back for Lizzie’s birthday but never posted it here, so here it is! Happy birthday to the loml, Lizard ❤️

•

"Elizabeth, your girlfriend's here!" Ashley called out into the crowd of people.

I smirked at the birthday girl's reaction; a blush and a huff as she approached us and pushed her sister - only half jokingly.

"In case you forgot, Ash, I'm married."

Ashley turned to me and rolled her eyes before walking off, presumably to find Mary-Kate and mingle a bit. I looked at the retreating back of her older sister before returning my attention to the woman of the hour.

"You look beautiful, Lizzie." I smiled brightly, taking in her appearance.

She was wearing a black knee length dress with short sleeves, her hair was up in a cute little ponytail and she wore very minimal makeup. She looked ethereal.

"Thanks, Y/N." She smiled, her eyes shining brightly with happiness.

"Did you open your presents yet?" I asked, knowing that I did arrive a little on the late side.

She shook her head and gestured to the table along the back wall lined with gifts. My eyebrows raised in surprise, impressed by the amount of gifts she'd received.

"Wanna open mine first?"

"Should I?" She bit her lip and smiled, looking down at her hands for a second before returning her gaze to my own. "I don't wanna play favorites."

I took a step closer to her, barely brushing my lips against her ear.

"You know I'm your favorite."

I pulled away, watching as she shuddered ever so slightly at the feel of my hot breath on her. With a wink, I walked past her, intending on getting myself a drink and having a good time.

At the drinks table, I met up with the twins who animatedly told me all about their new Spring collection that was coming up. They seemed excited so I couldn't help but be excited for them too. They were both a little tipsy, and handsy - not that I minded because we were all very close. Mary-Kate gave me a nudge and gestured with her head towards someone behind me.

"Looks like someone's a little grumpy."

I looked over my shoulder, spotting the birthday girl with her husband, chatting with some people I didn't know. But Lizzie wasn't paying attention to the conversation - she was staring daggers at us.

I shrugged and returned my attention to the twins, taking a big gulp of my drink.

"I offered to give her her present early." I smirked to myself. "She didn't wanna show favoritism by opening mine and not anyone else's."

"Oh, so that's why she looks like that." Ashley laughed, giving Mary-Kate a knowing look. "She's got a lot of ... built up tension."

I snorted at her words. Elizabeth had tried being so careful to hide her affair from everyone, but the two people she could never lie to were her older sisters. They probably knew about it before she did.

"She missed her chance." I turned back towards her again and gave her a small shrug and only a slight look of pity.

She chose to parade around as the perfect wife instead of getting her gift early.

"You're with us now," Ashley said with a smirk, sliding up to my side. "She'll have to get in line."

I wrapped my arms around both of their shoulders, pulling them close.

"I've never been with twins before." I laughed, and they joined in, all of us enjoying our time together.

I would never hurt Lizzie by sleeping with her sisters. It was all just jokes and I was sure she knew that. A tap on my shoulder got my attention and I released the twins to come face to face with a very unhappy Lizzie.

"Hello there, birthday girl." I smiled at her, finishing off my drink quickly.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She shot a glare at both her sisters before returning her attention to me again. "Alone."

I nodded at her and she grabbed me by the arm, dragging me away. I could hear the snickers from her sisters as we left and I realized they purposely got me in trouble for fun. Oh boy.

I followed behind her as she led me to an upstairs guest room. I was really in for an earful now.

"Elizabeth ..." I started, attempting to explain what she had seen.

She closed and locked the door behind us, stomping over to me angrily.

"What the hell was all that?"

"All what?"

"That!" She spat. "With my sisters!"

"We were just hanging out." I replied simply, shrugging as I sat on the bed. "Plus, you were mingling with Robbie. What did you want me to do with myself?"

"I certainly didn't want you to flirt with my sisters!"

"Elizabeth," I started softly, placing my hands on my knees and leaning towards her slightly. "I'm not fucking your sisters."

She crossed her arms over her chest and I held my hand out to her, which she chose to ignore.

"I'm fucking you."

"And is that all it is to you?"

My hand dropped at her words, confused as to where this was coming from.

"I should be asking you that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're the married one, Elizabeth!" I shouted, standing from the bed. "I've been faithful to you this whole time! I haven't even looked at another woman."

Her eyes softened at my confession. She took a step towards me and took my hands which were clenched at my sides.

"I'm sorry," I whispered softly. "I don't want to fight with you on your birthday. I'll just go."

I pulled my hands away from her, swallowing roughly at the hurt expression on her face. Before I could make a move towards the door, she was in front of me, her hands cupping my cheeks.

"Don't." She whispered, her lips pressing against mine in a fevered kiss.

I kissed her back, knowing all this tension and frustration stemmed from the double life she chose to live. I was just as guilty as she was and respected her desire to keep me a secret, but it didn't mean I was always happy about it.

I pressed her up against the door, my hands slipping up her dress as she kissed me sloppily, hungrily, as if she had never tasted my lips before.

"Do you want your present now?" I whispered softly.

She nodded and I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties, tugging them down around her knees. My hand slipped between her parted legs, two fingers ghosting against her slit teasingly.

She wriggled the rest of the way out of her underwear, kicking them away once she got them down to her ankles so I could access her wetness without struggling.

"So, that's why you're so grumpy." I breathed against her lips, my fingers just barely caressing her clit. "You're so wet."

"I've been wet since you teased me earlier." She squirmed underneath my weight, trying to get my fingers to move. "I hate when you do that."

"That's why I do it." I dipped my fingers into her heat, gathering her wetness on my fingers before pulling away from her.

"What -" She gasped breathlessly as I used my free hand to undo my pants.

She got the hint and helped me free her birthday gift from the confines of my dress pants. My thick, purple cock sprung out at her and she gasped, running her fingers along its length.

"Is this new?"

I nodded, sticking my wet fingers in my mouth and grabbing her hand, guiding her as she stroked it carefully, as if it would break.

"Happy birthday." I removed my fingers and smiled.

"It's too big." She whispered, almost in awe at the size of it.

"You can take it." I let her guide it between her legs, rubbing the tip against her throbbing clit.

She gasped softly, her hands reaching to grab my shoulders, letting me take control of her.

"You're gonna look so pretty with me inside you."

She let out a breathy moan that I swore I could get drunk on, and I gripped at her thighs, trying to pull her up my body. She jumped and wrapped her legs around me, the cock fully pressing into her heat as I grind my hips against hers, drawing loud, needy moans out of her.

"Be quiet, sweetheart," I whispered into her ear as I adjusted the cock between her thighs. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear you."

I slipped inside her easily and she threw her head back against the door, crying out at the intrusion. Realizing she was a little too vocal, she took a fistful of my shirt into her mouth, biting down as I slowly inched the rest of the cock into her.

"That's right, baby," I cooed, my hips jerking slightly with the urge to just fuck her like an animal. "Take all of my cock. You're such a good girl."

I heard her let out a pathetic whimper as I began to thrust up into her, the sound of our bodies crashing together deliciously loud in the quiet room.

"H-harder, Y/N." She whined, her teeth still buried in my shirt. For once, I was thankful that she wasn't biting me.

I knew that if I slammed her up against the door someone would hear, so I turned us around and clumsily walked us over to the bed, dropping us down as gently as I possibly could.

She released my shirt and took my hand, placing it over her mouth so I could silence her as I fucked her into oblivion. I pressed her down into the bed and slammed my hips into hers, the sounds of her moans driving me absolutely mad.

"You like when I fuck you like this?" I bent down and whispered in her ear, the disgusting sounds of passion and desire she was making fueling my inner fire.

She squeezed her eyes tight and came, her pathetic, needy moans stifled by my hand as her body tightened and jerked beneath me. I waited until she quieted down to release her, her mouth agape, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

"My beautiful girl." I whispered softly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "You look so pretty when you cum hard for me."

"Please," she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut at my gentle touch. "More."

"More?" I questioned, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Can you handle more?"

"Mmm, yes." She smiled up at me, rolling her hips into my own.

She bit down on her lip, keeping up the rhythm and I decided it was time for her to take control.

I flipped us over, her small squeal of surprise drawing a small chuckle out of me. She got comfortable on top of me, pressing her hands onto my breasts and lifting her hips to slam down into mine. I groaned at the power behind her thrust, grabbing onto her hips as she fucked herself on me.

"Oh, oh fuck." She moaned, her brow furrowing as her second orgasm built up inside her.

She threw her head back, a silent scream slipping past her lips as she came again, her wetness soaking me and the bed. Oh fuck.

As she came down from her high, she sighed contently, sliding herself off the cock she feared she would be unable to take. Boy, was she wrong. She laid down next to me, her legs dangling off the bed, and I got up, getting down on the ground in front of her and tugging her towards the edge of the bed. I wasn't done with her yet.

"Y/N, I don't know if I can ..."

"Shh," I hushed her softly, my tongue darting out to clean the cum off of her inner thighs. "I need to clean you up."

I heard her slap her hands against her mouth once again as my tongue swirled along her clit, dipping between her folds teasingly as her hips thrust up into my face. I gripped her thighs tightly as I explored her delicious wetness, her legs twitching around my head. I made sure to absolutely devour every inch of her, feasting on her as if she was my last meal, as if I'd never have this chance again.

I heard her squeal from above me and I knew she was close. I slowly inserted two fingers into her, her pussy tightening around me as I fucked her until her body gave in, sending her into her third climax of the night.

As her slick gushed out of her, I eagerly licked it up, doing as I promised and cleaning her up. She writhed on the bed and I placed a kiss on her mound before rising back up and kissing her fully on the lips. She was dazed, her eyes heavy as I let her taste herself on my tongue.

"Happy birthday, my love."

#oizysian writes #elizabeth olsen x yn #elizabeth olsen story #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen smut #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen

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wandafiction · 3 months

Text

She Calls Me Daddy

Warnings 18+: Smut, Title Daddy used (Reader), Strap on (Lizzie Receiving), Top Reader/Bottom Lizzie, Praise (Lizzie Receiving), Use of Restraints, Mentions of Infidelity, Aftercare.

You jump a little on the spot, tilting your head left to right to get rid of the last few nerves before you go up on stage. You've done this a million times before, performing at everyone’s favourite club, but tonight was a little more nerve wracking since your friend (the one and only Scarlett Johansson) decided she would bring a few of her friends along to watch you perform.

You had only ever met a few of her marvel friends, including the dirty blonde who your mind is always thinking about day and night. It doesn't help that this particular dirty blonde has been coming around more and more because her fiancé is just not doing it for her anymore.

"Hey sexy." You turn with a wide smile to see Scarlett sneaking past the stage curtain with a sly grin on your face.

"Hello gorgeous." You pull her into a hug, kissing both her cheeks before pulling away and letting out a nervous breath.

"I'm not going to lie, this outfit is unusual for you to be performing in."

Scarlett's eyes rake over your body seeing you wearing a white button up shirt with all but one button undone, allowing you to keep some form of decency; but your black lace bra is clearly visible through the thin material. Your pants are from your favourite suit, which coincidentally happens to be the suit you met the green eyed goddess in. They were tight fitting, hugging your legs and ass nicely leaving no room for imagination for those who laid eyes on you. You are wearing black Oxford shoes, with the laces loosely tied so you can slip out of them easily.

"Got to surprise the audience with a reveal sometimes. Is she here?" Scarlett rolls her eyes, giving you a small shove at your question.

"And here I thought you were all dressed up for little old me." You smirk lifting Scarlett's chin with your finger and thumb so she is looking up at you, your friendship had always had a flirtatious undertone but you two had only ever seen the other as friends.

"Well you can admire the show. Did she bring him?" Scarlett quickly shakes her head adjusting the collar of your shirt.

"No. She said it's a girls night out, which it is, and anyway he doesn't want to be seen in this part of town with her where rumours could start." You raise an eyebrow lifting your chin up so Scarlett can make sure everything looks good.

"You mean a gay strip club?" She nods quickly, her hands dragging down the shirt to straighten it out, giving her a thankful smile in return.

"Exactly. She is very excited to see you, and I know this for a fact because she is wearing it." You bite your lip at what Scarlet is telling you.

"My favourite girl, in one of my favourite outfits." Scarlet takes a step back eyeing your outfit up one more time before smiling.

"Perfect. Knock them dead." She sends you a wink as she walks back to the stage curtain.

"Bye bitch." She quickly turns around as she walks backwards through the curtain.

"Bye whore." She gives you a teasing wave before disappearing to where you can only assume is the front table which is normally reserved for her when she comes to show her support.

You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths as you hear your introduction to the stage begin making sure that the single button in your shirt will hold and that the belt on your pants is done up. The curtains open and you make your way up onto the stage, your eyes finding the green ones of the woman you had been waiting for. Your eyes wander around the table seeing who Scarlett has brought tonight. Seeing her, Brie, Flo, Tessa and finally the dirty blonde green eyed goddess Lizzie.

You look to the DJ giving him a nod to signal to play the music as you move to the front of the stage, your eyes never leaving hers. The music starts playing, you lick your lips to wet them and smirk when you see her green eyes dart down to watch your actions.

She's a little bit psycho

But she follows

When I call in the middle of the night

You move to sit on the edge of the stage at the steps, practically in front of their table. You push your legs apart, your hands on your knees tensing as you do so causing a few of your veins to show as you have your sleeves rolled up. You move your hands from your knees to the top of your thighs and then up the side of your body as your fingers dance along your clothes delicately.

She's got you wrapped around her finger

You try to linger

But she's already on her way to mine

You stand from the steps swaying your hips side to side as you move to stand behind Scarlett, the table and chairs only a few steps away from the stairs, twirling some of her hair around your finger before dragging your other hand down to her jaw and tilting her head backwards to look up at you. She smiles up at you as you send her a small wink, as you both chuckle at your actions.

It might be a little superficial

She plays with the boys

But she comes home to me

Your lips ghost down Scarlett's neck with a smirk before you turn to the woman who is sitting next to her, pulling her chair away from the table so you can sit down on it infront of her; your feet planted either side of her legs on the edge of the seat. Her eyes level with your abdomen as she stares at your abs which you put on show as your hands pull at the sides of your shirt.

Little fucked up but I think it's official

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

You slide off the table, ending up directly in her lap smiling when you see her eyes flutter closed for a second and her hands land on your thighs giving them a small squeeze. Her eyes flutter open again when you drag your finger along the left side of her jaw and then down her neck to the thin piece of material that she is wearing around her neck; easily mistaken for what it is by others.

She's mine

She wears a collar with my name

Secretive but not ashamed

You wrap your finger under the leather material giving it a small tug upwards so she is sitting up straight her front against yours, her hands moving up and down your thighs as her pupils dilate and the green you've come to know all but disappears. Your left hand moves to pop open the button holding your shirt closed, Lizzie’s eyes darting down to look at your breasts which are being pushed up with black lace.

She's mine

But I never tie her down

They always come around

Mine

You move your hand to cup her jaw, her eyes flicking back to yours as you lift your left leg up and over her lap so you are now standing next to her; towering over her as you force her to look up at you. Your right thumb swipes the skin of her neck just below the leather material, feeling her swallow harshly as you give it another gentle tug.

I'm a bit of an ice cream

Little bit mean

But my girl likes the way I shut them down

You move behind her chair, the hand cupping her jaw moves down her neck all the way to her chest where you can feel it rising up and down quickly. The pink blush spreads from her cheeks all the way down her neck to your hand, you feel the heat radiating off her skin as you slowly work her up. You move your lips next to her right ear breathing hot air down the side of her face as you take her ear lobe between your teeth pulling at it gently.

Say she likes when I play king

A little play thing

Yeah my girl like the way I wear my crown

You push your hand under the practically see-through white top, wearing it just for you knowing it's one of your favourite looks on her, as you move your lips away from her ear and across her jaw ghosting her skin as your other hand moves to wrap around her neck giving it a small squeeze. A small moan passes her lips, and you playfully bite at her jaw in response watching as she pushes her thighs together and one of her hands finds the back of your neck.

You should see their face when they finally realize

That she plays with the boys

But she comes onto me

Your eyes scan the table, an amused smirk growing on your face as you see the woman with looks of shocks on their faces; all but Scarlett who is smirking proudly as you do what you do best. Using a finger from the hand holding her neck you push her chin to the right so she is looking at you, brushing your lips against hers and feeling her sigh against them almost makes you kiss her but you pull away completely with a teasing smirk; her hand dropping to hold the back of the chair. You shrug your shirt off before planting yourself back on her lap.

Wanna change her mind but I get unwise

'Cause she might be your girl

But she's calling me daddy

Her hands land on your thighs quickly as you straddle her once more, your feet planted on the ground as your hands hold onto the back of the chair either side of Lizzie's head. You move your left hand to grab onto her right hand, dragging it up to your belt buckle and giving her a small nod as she looks to your eyes for permission. With the permission she needs, Lizzie undoes your belt pulling it through each of the loops by pulling it with one hand and fiddling with your buttons and zipper with the other.

She's mine

She wears a collar with my name

Secretive but not ashamed

Your hand once again finds its place on her neck, pulling her body forward as press your lips at the base of her neck giving the skin there a few small bites before dragging your tongue up to her jaw where you nip at the skin once more, knowing how much she likes to have your marks but not wanting to leave any in front of her friends. Not that you think it will make much difference as her hands snake around to your back pushing under your pants where they cup your butt cheeks and give them both a squeeze. You lift your hips, a signal for her to pull your pants down which she follows immediately making you smirk.

She's mine

But I never tie her down

They always come around

Mine

You quickly stand up kicking your shoes off so you can shimmy out of your pants before placing yourself back down on Lizzie’s lap but lean backwards so you are using your elbows on the table to prompt your body up. Lizzie’s eyes look into yours as her hands hover over your hips, a look of desperation and lust is all you can see. You smirk with a nod, Lizzie’s hands gripping onto your hips as you roll them against her legs and start rolling your upper body in time. Your hands hanging lazily off the table as you practically grind onto Lizzie's lap, her eyes scanning your whole body as she takes in the black lingerie set you are wearing; it does nothing much to hide what's underneath. But that comes with the job, she knows this, but god is she happy that she’s the only one allowed to touch it….with permission of course.

In the mess

She's responsible

Change her mind

It's impossible

Close your mouth

You

Catch a fire

Watch the girl get

What she likes

You push your body upwards so you are sitting straight up in her lap, a hand on the back of her neck grips at her baby hairs pulling her head backwards to look at you. You bring your lips down to her left ear, smiling against it when you feel her hands squeeze your hips. Your other hand pulls at the leather around her neck as you whisper in her ear.

“Hello kitten.” She quietly moans in your ear, her hands moving to grope your butt cheeks once more as she whispers back to you.

“Hi daddy. I’ve missed you.” You hum in agreement, a small whine leaving her lips as the sound vibrates into her ear, but you simply give the collar another tug.

“I have another hour baby, if you’re good we can use your favourite strap. But only if you’re good.”

“I can be good for you daddy.” You pull back from whispering to one another, planting a chaste kiss on her lips before completely climbing off her lap, giving her friends a small bow as they stare with open jaws between you and Lizzie before sending them all a wink and walking back to the stage. You laugh to yourself when you hear their table break out into quiet conversation, obviously asking Lizzie lots of questions as she looks to Scarlett to save her.

♤♡◇♧

“Fuck, daddy please.” Lizzie whines beneath you as you laugh against the skin of her neck at the sound of her desperation.

“Look at you, my little baby begging me to fuck her. Tell me what it is you need from daddy.”

“Inside. I want to feel you. You always feel so good daddy, please.” You smirk against her skin as you gently suck on her pulse point causing a loud moan to leave her lips as her body jolts underneath you.

“Stay still baby, I will be right back.”

You smile to yourself as you climb off the bed, looking at Lizzie who has her arms tied to the headboard and a blindfold on as she fights the urge to close her legs to ease some of the tension building between her thighs again. You grab her favourite toy from the drawer, a 10 inch double ended strap. She told you when you first started seeing you that she had never been a size queen, but with the way you can so easily use this one you are truly thinking of asking if she wants to go bigger.

You put the smaller end inside yourself, watching as Lizzie’s body buzzes in anticipation. Lizzie gasps when you press your body against hers suddenly, the tip of the strap brushing through her already glistening folds, thanks to the previous two orgasms you had given her with your mouth and fingers. You start rolling your hips to tease her,Lizzie’s hips buck to try and get you where she needs you but as soon as your hand wraps around the collar giving it a tug she immediately stops.

“You know the rules, kitten, don't move, otherwise I will have to punish you.” You decide you want to see her as you bring her to the final orgasm of the night, removing your hand from the collar to remove the blindfold. “Do I need to punish you?”

“No, daddy. I’m sorry. Please make me cum. I will be good, please.” Her eyes roll to the back of her head as your right hand moves to cup her core pushing your fingers through her folds to collect her wetness.

“I will let you off this time since you were so good by waiting for me to finish work, but one wrong move and you will be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Lizzie’s eyes flutter open once you remove your hand from her core using the wetness on your hand to lube up the toy.

“Yes daddy.”

“Good girl.” Without warning you push the tip of the fake cock into her entrance slowly pushing into her so as not to hurt her a wanton moan leaving her lips as her head presses back into the pillow her hands gripping at the leather cuffs. You look down at Lizzie once you feel your hips against hers letting you know the toy is completely inside so you are waiting on her signal to start moving.

“Okay.” Lizzie’s eyes lock with yours as you slowly start to roll your hips, a small gasp parting your lips next to her ear as the smaller end starts to move inside you. “Fuck daddy, so big”

You moan into Lizzie's ear at her words, she knows just what to say to shoot pleasure through your body. Your left hand plants itself onto the mattress next to her head as you right one brushes down the side of her body to her leg, quickly lifting it up and around your waist. She pulls your hips back into hers with her leg, both of you moaning at the rough thrust.

You start to speed up your movements burying your head into her neck as you gently bite and suck a trail of marks down it, your hand snaking up the front of her body to her left breast. You roll your thumb over her hard nipple, a small whine leaving her lips at the added pleasure as you suddenly pinch it between your thumb and finger before moving your hand upwards again.

“Don’t stop. You feel so fucking good. Please don’t stop.” Lizzie’s back arches as you start to thrust harder into her choosing to pull the toy most of the way out before thrusting it roughly back in loving how her body writhes underneath you.

“You feel so good wrapped tightly around my cock.” Lizzie’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her leg tightens its hold around your waist, as you moan the words into her ear; the smaller end of the toy brushing against your walls hitting your g-spot every now and again as you feel lizzie’s legs start to shake.

“Please can I cum daddy. I need to….fuck…please.” Her eyes shoot open the most desperate look on her face as you continue to pound into her, her whole body moving with the rough thrusts as the headboard hits the wall.

“Cum for daddy, baby. Show me how good I make you feel.” The coil that had been building up in Lizzie snaps, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she lets out a near pornographic moan. Your body reacts quickly at the sight of Lizzie’s orgasm as the small side of the toy brushes against your g-spot once more and you sink your teeth into Lizzie's neck to muffle a maon; leaving a mark for sure.

Her back arches completely off the bed, her feet and head the only thing staying in contact with the mattress as her legs shake uncontrollably and her feet slip and push into the mattress over and over. Lizzie’s arms pull at the restraints, her knuckles turning white as her fists clench, the handcuffs sure to leave some marks on her skin. You continue to slowly thrust into Lizzie helping her through the long amount of aftershocks, her chest moving rapidly as she mumbles out nonsense.

Her body continues to move beneath yours as it settles back down on the bed, her leg that was around your waist falls to the bed as her whole body is drained of energy and you can see her falling into a state of bliss and tiredness. When you pull the toy out your eyes widen at how soaked the toy is, and how there is quite a bit on the mattress below; smirking to yourself at the sight. You pull the toy out of yourself and place it on the floor next to the bed before sitting up on your knees and rubbing your hands up and down the side of Lizzie’s body to help calm her body down a little.

“Are you okay princess?” Lizzie smiles goofily at the change in name, knowing that your soft side is coming out like it always does after sex. Your brows furrow when you don’t get a reply as she continues smiling but her eyes flutter open the green slowly returning. “Lizzie you good?”

“More than good. I’m perfect.” You lean down pressing your lips against hers, Lizzie immediately reciprocates the small kiss but groans when she tries to move her hands. “Do you mind?” She nods up to the leather handcuffs.

“Not at all.” You make quick work of undoing the leather restraints, bringing her wrists to your lips where you kiss along the harsh red marks left behind. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

“I jush wan cuddles.” You turn to look at Lizzie, a small blush growing on her face as she tiredly tries to speak, stuffing her face into the pillow to try and hide it.

“Okay, let me just get a damp cloth for tonight then.”

You make quick work of cleaning Lizzie with the cloth, making sure not to hurt her due to how sensitive she was. You even manage to pull the sheet off the bed and replace it with a new one, once you had transferred Lizzie from one side of the bed to the other and back again before climbing in and pulling the covers over the both of you.

Her body gravitates towards you, her arm wrapping around your waist as you help to pull her to lay on top of you knowing she gets the most comfort from skin on skin contact. Her head rests against your shoulder, her other hand tracing small patterns up and down your arm, silence engulfing the room but it is more confronting silence than awkward. You tilt your head to look at the woman on top of you as she lets out a deep breath and looks up at you with the softest smile.

“I’m leaving him.”

You choke on air for a moment, eyes going wide at her confession, Lizzie’s eyes not leaving your face as she watches your reaction. You thought back to the few times you had discussed what this was between the two of you and you had both said that it was nothing more than fucking, but you both know the line got blurred somewhere when she took you for a weekend away. Or when you meet for coffee or go for food at a restaurant, both of you hide what was truly there even when you label these activities as dates in your mind. You both do.

“W-why?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, not after playing the friends with benefits game for 6 months.

“I can’t be with him.” Her eyes dart left to right looking into yours as her left hand on your waist moves up to your chest to start drawing patterns, something you have noticed she does when anxious or nervous normally.

“Okay.” You mentally facepalm yourself at the stupid reply, watching as Lizzie’s brows furrow and her features deflate slightly, hoping you would be more excited about the prospect so you quickly add. “Why can’t you be with him, princess?”

“I can’t be with someone when I see the future we are meant to have with someone else.” The finger on your chest moves up to your collarbone where she starts tracing it gently over and over. “I can’t be with him when all I can think about is you.”

“Lizzie I - uh - I.” You were at a loss for words, and however hard you try to think of what to say you can’t get it out. You’ve wanted this for a while, but had yourself convinced she would always choose him. So why now, when she is being open, has your brain decided to short circuit.

“Oh.” You immediately notice her demeanour change, her head shaking a little as she beats herself up probably thinking she just made a complete and utter mistake. When she tries to remove herself from you, you are quick to react, your hands moving to cup her face, quickly moving her head to be over yours and pull it down to smash your lips together.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You mumble against her lips as you pull away for a second, but only for a second as you kiss her again with a passion trying to convey every single emotion through this single kiss.

Once oxygen becomes an issue Lizzie pulls her lips away from yours, resting her forehead gently against yours as your eyes look into one another. Your right hand moves to push a piece of fallen her behind her ear as your left hand continues to hold her cheek as your thumb traces small circles against her skin.

“Does this mean I can take you on an official date?” Lizzie buries her face into the crook of your neck giggling sweetly at your question.

“I would love nothing more than a date with you Y/n.” She mumbles against the skin of your neck leaving a few small pecks as she does.

“Well then miss olsen. This Tuesday, at 8pm I will cook and all you have to do is turn up.”

“Tuesday, 8pm.” She kisses the underside of your jaw, her body completely relaxing into yours letting out a tired sigh causing you to smile softly to yourself.

“Goodnight Lizzie.”

“Goodnight Y/n”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #bottom lizzie #top reader #elizabeth olsen smut #smut

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look-at-the-soul · 25 days

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 4

Series master list

Tommy Shelby x reader

Better late than never! I hope you like this! The drama continues for a while, no warning is needed just Lizzie being a (b)witch.

Word count: 2,923

Lizzie rolled her eyes subtly as Y/N walked past her with a blinder following her steps with a box full of papers. Surprisingly Tommy hired his best friend as his assistant and now everywhere Lizzie looked, she found Y/N.

“Thank you James!” She heard Y/N.

“Any time, just let me know if you need anything.” The blinder tipped his peaky cap towards her and walked away.

Lizzie found Y/N the most irritating person, always smiling, always charming everyone, always so fucking close to Tommy. And now she had to work at the company too?!

“Now that Scott is missing, are you going to start flirting with James too?” Lizzie asked with sarcasm.

Nobody knew where Scott was, he simply faded away one day and Y/N didn’t seem to care.

Y/N wasn’t in the mood to deal with Lizzie’s bullshit that day, she had been giving herself away to work, eager to payoff Tommy’s kindness. But no matter what, Lizzie had been showing a bitchy attitude towards her without a valid reason since the beginning.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Y/N retorted immediately and pretended to focus on the folders with the licenses information, she needed to organize those.

“You think you’re so smart and with that innocent look you can blind men.”

“That’s what you think hmm? Well, even if that was the case… it’s none of your business.”

“And whose next? Tommy?” Lizzie placed her hand on her hip, twisting her lower lip down.

Y/N felt like actually having a little fun. Polly told her Tommy had sex with Lizzie occasionally, not like an official thing, but apparently Lizzie’s feelings got in the way at some point.

“Oh… wait you don’t know the latest gossip darling?” Y/N fixed her eyes on Lizzie’s paled expression. “I’m living in his house… Arrow House, it’s a fucking palace if you ask me.”

Y/N’s statement was a direct punch into Lizzie’s gut, anger and discomfort was so evident in her expression.

“Are you Tommy’s new whore?” Lizzie asked loudly not realizing that Tommy was behind her.

“Elizabeth Stark!” His voice resonated around, making Lizzie jump.

His jaw clenched and he threw his secretary a death stare that could turn her into stone. Y/N knew of his bad temper and his violent reactions -never towards her of course-, but deep down she felt bad for Lizzie.

Pacing between them, Tommy took a few more steps until he stood next to Y/N.

“I want everyone around.” He rubbed the cigarette over his lips, but refrained from lightning it because he remembered it made Y/N sick. “RIGHT NOW!”

As he saw other secretaries and blinders gathered around, as well as his family, he took a deep breath.

“I haven’t got the chance to properly introduce Y/N… she’s my assistant now.” He explained with a serious tone. “But if anyone…” Tommy then fixed his eyes on Lizzie, “dares to say anything bad to her, point a fucking finger, question her integrity or whatever the fuck you do. In that very moment, you’re fired. And I’m no joking.”

The people gave him a few nods and nervous stares.

“Are we clear?” He shouted then, to make his point valid.

A chorus of yes was heard around as people started to move.

“This is a warning.” He explained to Lizzie directly. “Next time you cross the line, and you’re out.”

Lizzie stood there petrified, not knowing what to say or do.

Then, when he turned around to face Y/N, his expression went completely soft again. The difference was evident.

“Y/N your grandma is waiting in my car, I’m taking you two somewhere.” He explained holding out her coat.

“Oh!” She rushed excited, leaving Lizzie fuming.

“Jealousy will take you nowhere.” Polly pointed at Lizzie, lighting a cigarette.

“I’m just so done with her, I can’t stand her!” She exploded clenching her jaw.

Polly studied her, then leaning against the desk, she finally asked; “what’s your problem? Y/N hasn’t done anything to you.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes and scoffed in discomfort. Y/N was always in the middle, always got Tommy’s attention, she made him smile, he looked after her all the fucking time!

Shaking the ash from her cigarette, Lizzie picked some folders from her desk.

“I don’t like her, alright?”

“You’re jealous.” It wasn’t a question.

Lizzie took a few seconds to answer the Shelby matriarch.

“I keep him satisfied… isn’t that enough?”

For an instant, Polly felt pity for Lizzie. “Believe it or not… that’s not all that Thomas is looking for.”

The green-eyed woman stared at her confused. So Polly continued.

“He had always dreamed big, he always wanted what he didn’t have growing up… he wants his own family, wants to make things right.” She explained.

“So there’s something going on between them?” Lizzie asked, the air escaping her body.

Polly stopped walking and slowly turned around to look at the secretary. “What? Of course not, they’re like brother and sister.”

Lizzie blinked a few times, confused. “I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, Polly told her it wasn’t her place to say anything and left. Y/N would decide if she wanted to share the news of her pregnancy and with whom she chose to do it.

“What did you tell Mum?” Y/N asked in the vehicle after greeting her grandmother with a tight and comforting hug.

She winked at her granddaughter from the front seat. “That I was going to the market.”

Tommy grinned listening to their talk, a moment later they arrived to the Garrison and he guided them to the private booth, so they would be able to talk freely.

“Harry would you prepare the kettle? Y/N and her grandma will need some tea.”

“Right away Mr. Shelby.”

Y/N’s grandma looked around, she had never been in a place like this, where men went to have a drink.

“You look pale my darling,” she stated giving her granddaughter’s hand a squeeze. “Is she eating well Mr. Shelby?”

“Oh, yes… you know, she’s a bit stubborn at times.” He chuckled. “You’re more than welcome in my house you know that, right?”

Y/N’s grandma touched his arm in gratitude. “God will pay you back in blessings.”

“Yes, Tommy won’t let me lift a finger, he got maids, someone that cooks and a driver. Can you believe that grandma?”

Her grandma looked at him in shock. It sounded like Tommy belonged to an upper status now.

“If you want to see Y/N, just ask any of my men to take you.”

Y/N looked at him with her eyes full of gratitude.

“Grandma…” Y/N stared at the cup of tea Harry brought, then she gave Tommy a quick glance.

“I’ll be checking the numbers of the pub. Alright?” Tommy offered to give them space.

“Thank you.” She saw him disappear, the noise from the pub filled momentarily the room.

“How are you feeling my dear?” Y/N’s grandma asked, worry installed in her eyes.

“As good as I can be,” she looked down, “the Shelby family had been looking after me and the doctor says everything is fine with the baby.”

“Oh that’s wonderful news.” The elderly woman celebrated. “But the sadness is still there, in your eyes.”

“I’m trying to be strong, but I can’t help but think I shouldn’t have been so naive, I thought Scott loved me.”

“I’m not going to lie to you dear, I always thought you’d end up falling in love with someone else.” The hint of a smile decorated her lips.

Y/N frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Her grandma shuddered. “Someone better, with a bright future.” She explained but kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. When she turned around, Y/N saw Tommy pouring some beer through the small window.

“But now it’s too late to think of that, I’ve to focus on this baby first.” Y/N murmured absently.

Y/N could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. Part of her wanted to be optimistic and the other part needed to be realistic. Things would be different now.

“Can you ask Tommy if he knows a good lawyer?” Her grandma’s words caught her attention, but before she could ask if everything was alright, she spoke again. “I’m going to change my house under your name, but I don’t want anyone to learn this.”

The gesture touched every fiber of Y/N’s body and her eyes watered immediately.

“Oh grandma…”

“No, don’t thank me.” She warned. “When the time is right, you’ll need something to be yours.”

Dabbing the corner of her eyes with a napkin, Y/N stood up to give her grandmother a hug. “I don’t want you to worry anymore.” She added.

Y/N allowed her grandma to comfort her, feeling her heart full at the moment. And then she started sharing how good she felt now working at the Shelby business. Before they realized, time had passed and they thought it’d be better to take her grandma back home before it got dark.

“I’ll get Tommy.” Y/N informed standing up.

“Wait… I got something else for you.” Y/N’s grandma stated solemnly, producing a cloth from her handbag.

When Y/N opened it, she shook her head. “I can’t take it, it’s your money.”

“My darling… you will need it for the baby.”

“Don’t worry about it, thankfully I’ve the salary the Shelby family is paying me.”

Her grandmother shook her head profusely. “Either way, keep it in case you need it.”

“Thank you gran… it means the world to me.” Y/N stood to round the table and give her grandmother a tight hug. “You’re not mad?”

The elderly woman frowned and asked what she meant.

“Well you know… that I didn’t save myself until marriage?” She asked ashamed of her actions.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen worse. It’s not my place to judge you.” Her grandmother caressed the side of her face. “What is it darling?” Worry was evident in her gaze.

Y/N was t able to hold it together any longer, tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“I feel like I failed my parents, you… I-I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s grandma wiped the tears away.

“Stop thinking that. A baby is always a blessing.”

“But grandma what will I do?”

“Whatever you need to do for this baby, it’s something you’ll only discover once the baby is born, a strength unknown will keep you above the water.” She stated wisely.

A few days later a sudden sound startled Y/N. When she looked up, she found Polly staring down at her.

“What are you bloody doing down there?”

“I’m organizing the races licenses.” She replied from the floor, papers scattered all around her.

“And the desk isn’t big enough?” Polly arched her eyebrows. “Don’t answer that.” She added after taking a look at the folders.

Lizzie took a turn but stopped abruptly when she found Polly talking with Y/N.

“Uhmm Tommy left these papers, said it was important for you to sign them.”

“Oh I forgot!” While she was signing the papers, she had some news to share. “Make sure to finish this, because you and I are going shopping this afternoon.”

“Polly you know I can’t, I’m trying to save money.” Y/N blushed in embarrassment.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not saying you’ll be spending money.” When she saw the face Y/N made, she interrupted her raising a hand. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

And with that, she clicked her heels to go into her office in the opposite hall.

Y/N stared at her, Polly was glamorous, she oozed personality and had a charming character. A light blood as Esme called her.

Lizzie looked at Y/N up and down, there was no way she could afford the clothes she was wearing. Taking a sip of her tea, she thought of what to say. She needed to be careful because Tommy had already give her a warning, but she couldn’t miss an opportunity to annoy her, poor little helpless Y/N… but Lizzie also knew she wasn’t going to run to him and tell him every time they talked.

“So you’re living with Tommy huh? That’s new… do the maids have to call you Mrs. Shelby?” Dabbing the lipstick she just applied, she gave her another look. “He can be generous when he wants, but seriously I don’t understand what kind of relationship you have if you’re living together but you aren’t a couple?” She spat bitterly.

“No offense Lizzie, but honestly? You’re the last woman I’d go after for an advice.” Y/N felt a bit tired, some nights it was impossible to sleep, worry and uncertainty was keeping her up.

“Well, you’re missing out then… because between us? You’ll never guess who’s taking me for a date.”

Y/N wanted to laugh at her words. A man dating Lizzie Stark. But a voice deep inside her made her shut up, because well… she was pregnant without being married. So she decided to play her game.

“Really? Enlighten me.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow and gave Y/N a wicked smile.

“You know what? I don’t want you to ruin this for me.” She shook her head.

Y/N frowned, why would she ruin her date? She didn’t even care. Lizzie playing the mysterious woman was the most boring thing in the world and if she thought that would make her ask anything else or beg her to say her new lover’s name, Lizzie didn’t knew her at all. Y/N had enough at the moment to stick her nose in someone else’s business.

Lizzie rolled her eyes when Y/N didn’t commented anything further and walked with the folders to the safe.

She wanted to rub in her face that she was dating Angel Changretta. Whatever dating means, they were having wild sex, and Angel had said a few times that he didn’t care about her past. He took her out in his car and drove her back home, not like Tommy he only took her against the desk and didn’t even dare to take her clothes off, he just used her and lately he didn’t even looked at her.

Angel was her ticket to a better life.

Y/N locked the safe and returning to her desk, she found Tommy leaning against the window.

“What are you doing here?”

Y/N gave him a confused look. “I work here?”

That earned a laugh from Tommy. “Thought you we’re heading out, shopping.”

“Yes but later, once I finish my shift.”

Pointing at the hall, he let her walk first. “I need to ask you for a favor.”

That caught her attention and she looked at him intensely. “Anything.”

“Do you remember all those times we talked back then about how we dreamed of doing something together to turn everything around?”

Y/N nodded. “Because life was never fair.”

“How we were always missing opportunities because everything was so damn hard?” Tommy continued, his mind going back in time to a day when they didn’t allowed them in school because his old uniform had a hole in one of the knees and Y/N’s mother couldn’t afford the new books, so they skipped classes and went to the river to swim.

“You always said if it was up to you, you’d do everything completely different.” Y/N remembered all too well.

“I’m planning to open an institution for the kids in need.”

Her eyes sparkled with admiration. Tommy’s generosity didn’t know limits and it spoke volumes about the real man he was.

“How can I help?” She jumped in right away.

“That attitude will make you conquer anything.” Tommy pointed at his friend with a smile. “Whenever it’s possible I need you to lead this project. It’s ambitious but I’ll give you all the people you will need to materialize it.”

“Yes! Of course!” She oozed the excitement. “Education it’s the key for a better future.”

Tommy pouted, letting her words sink in. “You’ll need to make that the slogan.” He chuckled.

“I can scout the children who lost their fathers by the war, they probably were forced to drop school to start working.”

Tommy relaxed his shoulders, pleased with the way Y/N understood what he wanted.

She then continued, now pacing around.

“And the boys and girls whose fathers work at the factories, long hours they’re probably left at home by themselves… what about a program after school? We could offer them tutoring or different courses like knitting for girls and carpentry for the boys.

“Free tuition and uniforms.” Tommy added.

“We could add a jar by the bets table so people can donate here too.”

“Lizzie had some properties already, I’ll tell her to give you everything, check them out and tell me which one you think would work better.”

“Tommy this will make a huge difference, you can’t even imagine the impact.”

“Excellent, now… leave that.” Tommy tipped his head towards the papers. “Find Polly and go already,” he instructed and then produced something from his pocket.

“Tommy I can’t accept this.” She was shocked by the amount of money he was handling her.

“You can, and you will because it’s a gift for the baby. Now go, because I need to smoke.”

One of the secretaries walked past them, it wasn’t her original plan, but she heard their conversation accidentally.

Part 5

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#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby fanfiction

226 notes · View notes

writershapeholeonthedoor · 7 months

Text

Love me harder

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a nice day out with Elizabeth when a paparazzi stumble over you

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. This was inspired by that photos of Lizzie eating ice cream.

Warnings: Elizabeth Olsen being too cute

MASTERLIST

“What flavor do you want?”

You heard your girlfriend asking you with her lips brushing just behind your ear before a quick kiss landed right there, making your entire body melt against her. Elizabeth was standing behind you, one arm around your waist, and easily sustained your weight with a low chuckle at the reaction she got from you. People around you paid no mind at all despite the park being packed with families and passers-by enjoying the sunny day out.

“Chocolate,” you replied after giving it some thought. You had never eaten ice cream from the truck Elizabeth had taken you to, but chocolate was your forever favorite.

“Okay,” Elizabeth said and removed her arm from around you. You turned your head to look at her, already smiling the easy smile that came to your face whenever you were around her, but she simply slid on her sunglasses again and smirked. “Stay here, I will go to the line. It’s too sunny,” she declared, gently guiding you to take another step back to stay in the big shadow the tree behind you was providing.

You rolled your eyes fondly at the sweetness of her gesture, but didn’t try to argue as she walked away. You knew there was no point in arguing, after all. So you watched as your girlfriend walked a few feet to your right to stand in the line to buy both of you the ice cream she promised you would get if you woke up early to go out with her. She wanted to go to the street market for days now, mostly because she wanted to buy some new flowers to her garden but also because she knew they had the most fresh vegetables around, and she was finally home to do so. Of course, she would drag you along with her. And, of course, you would agree to wake up at a ridiculous hour in the morning to buy carrots just because she pouted at you.

There were very few things you wouldn’t do when Elizabeth pouted at you and she knew that.

“Here we go.”

You noticed you had dozed off when you heard her voice approaching you. You looked over in time to see her walking towards you while holding two cones with a soft smile on her lips before she handed you the chocolate one. She took advantage of her free hand to raise her sunglasses to the top of her head again and you were blessed with the sight of her green eyes.

“Thanks, Lizzie,” you smiled at her, already moving to take a bite out of the ice cream. It made her shudder, as you knew it would, because she couldn’t imagine how you were able to just bite ice-cold things and not feel anything.

Even so, she made sure to lean in to press a kiss against your cheek. “Not a problem, honey. Do you want to sit down to eat?”

“Can we? I'm afraid I might make a mess if I try to walk and eat at the same time,” you admitted with a shy grin, looking down at the ice cream that had already started to melt a bit.

“Of course.” Elizabeth nodded and used her plastic spoon to point at a bench not far from where you both were. It was under a tree so there was a big shadow around it as well, and there weren’t many people around since most seemed to be enjoying their day to run or walk their dogs. “There are a few benches over there.”

“Let's go.” You both walked towards the bench with no rush and you sat down as soon as you reached it, stretching your legs in front of you in the air and groaning. “Ah, my feet are killing me.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at you, but she had a smile on her face. “We didn't walk that much.”

“No, but I'm tired,” you complained, licking your ice cream with a pout.

Elizabeth, who had been eating her treat with the spoon, glanced at you for a moment. “You're only saying that because you want me to put all the groceries away when we get home.”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed in fake shock, even going as far as placing a hand against your chest. “I would never.”

This time, your girlfriend laughed and shook her head. “You're lucky I love you,” she mumbled while leaning down.

“Yes, I am,” you agreed easily because, really, you were so lucky to have Elizabeth in your life and, even more so, that she loved you so dearly.

Your lips connected in a quick peck since you were both in a public space and in odd positions, but she sighed when she pulled away. “You taste like chocolate.”

“And you taste like pistachio,” you replied with an adoring smile. You wished you could kiss her again, but Elizabeth was already straightening her back. She had not sat down by your side, kind of towering over you, but you didn’t mind. “Which I think I don't have a problem with when I taste it like that,” you added and stared at her ice cream as if it had personally offended you somehow. You didn’t like pistachio, which was ironic because that was Elizabeth’s favorite flavor.

Your girlfriend threw you an amused glare before pointing at your ice cream with her plastic spoon. “Eat.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, obviously. The ice cream was delicious, there were some chocolate bits inside, and you were positively sure that the truck had the best ice cream in the entire city. You would tell Elizabeth that later on because she kept telling you this for weeks now and you didn’t believe her before.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes. You were watching people walking past you, focused on all the cute dogs walking with their owners or the birds trying to steal popcorn from people passing by, barely paying attention to anything else. Elizabeth took a few looks around over her shoulders and you assumed she was also watching the dogs, but you noticed the way she shifted closer to you at some point, almost touching your feet together. You looked up, a bit surprised, and noticed she had lowered her sunglasses again, which did not prevent you from seeing the frown that was suddenly on her face.

“What?” You asked because you knew her enough to know there was something wrong.

Elizabeth, who had been gazing down at her ice cream with her lips pursed, looked up from her glasses at you. “Huh?”

“You made a face,” you pointed out, deciding not to mention that she had basically changed positions as well, or that her posture had gone stiff.

It looked like that, for a second, she was going to dismiss your worries, but Elizabeth eventually sighed almost sadly and her shoulders dropped. “I'm sorry,” she declared and, this time, it was clear she was tense. “I saw someone taking pictures.” Elizabeth made a face and discreetly pointed over her right shoulder to show you where that person was, but you didn’t try to look over. You realized she had moved to try to cover you from whoever had a camera pointed in your direction. After she saw realization washing over your expression, she sighed again. “I'm so sorry.”

She sounded so earnest, her sadness so crude, that you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to squeeze her arm. “That's okay, Lizzie.”

“No, it's not.” She shook her head. “You shouldn't have to suffer the consequences of the career I chose for myself.”

That wasn’t the first time she expressed how upset she got when someone tried to drag you to her crazy lifestyle. You had been dating for over two years now, but you just recently came public with it because she was trying to keep you away from all of that - she had adamantly assured you that it wasn’t because you were a woman and you belived her. The paparazzi, people following you around, newsletters treating you as a public figure, fans stopping you in the street to ask you questions about her, and the influence it could have on your work and your very normal, mundane life. But you both reached an agreement to have her post a picture of you two at one of her castmate's wedding to announce to the world your relationship and things hadn’t gone as bad as you initially thought they might go.

Sure, some people found out where you worked and showed up, but your boss was understanding and just added more security for a while until it all settled back again. Other than that, the occasional fan giving you something for you to pass along to Elizabeth, and the eventual paparazzi taking pictures, things weren’t so crazy. You hadn’t shown up on her Instagram again, mostly because Elizabeth herself wasn’t very into social media, and you kept your own account private, only accepting your friends and family there so you could keep posting all you wanted.

That was a thing that happened when you dated a Marvel’s movie star when you weren’t one yourself. However, dating Elizabeth Olsen wasn’t all bad as your girlfriend made it seem - or believed so herself. You had been together for a while, enough for you to know there was no one else capable of making you feel as happy as she did. You would move mountains to be with her, so you could endure a few pictures taken without your consent, as annoying as it might be.

“Hey,” you called her softly, letting your hand caress her arm until you were touching her hand. She stopped spinning the small spoon with her fingers when you touched her, but it took a few more seconds before her eyes moved up to meet yours. You wished she didn’t have her sunglasses on, although they weren’t dark enough to hide all of them. “Thank you for protecting me,” you said, making sure you sounded as honest as you were. “I know you try to hide me when you see someone is taking photos.”

“I just…” Elizabeth sighed and allowed you to play with her fingers, letting go of the spoon. “I don't want to hide you, but you don't deserve to have your life ruined because of me.”

There it was again. The way Elizabeth made it seem like she was bringing the end of the world straight at you. You could understand that, of course, because her life had always been under the spotlight since she was a baby. She saw how being in the media affected her sisters, what it did to them, and how it shifted her life as well. So, of course, you understood why she was so protective of you when it came to that. It just made you love her even more.

“My life could never be ruined because of you,” you affirmed and allowed a small smile to turn the corners of your lips up. “You are the reason why my life has been pretty great lately.” Elizabeth also smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes, and you decided to kiss her palm to remind her you were not going anywhere. You didn’t care if the person was still taking pictures or not, if that was going to reach the internet somewhere or not. “Eat your ice cream, sunshine.”

She smiled more widely at the pet name you used as you let go of her hand so you could both finish eating. By that point, the ice cream was melting down the cone and almost reaching your fingers, so you sped up to eat it. Elizabeth still kept trying to hide you, but she looked more at ease when she started biting down on the cone, so you also allowed yourself to relax.

Once you were done with the ice cream, she helped you to stand, putting out one of her hands, and then grabbed your napkin to throw it away in the trashcan a few steps to the side. When she returned, you didn’t think twice before pulling her in for a peck.

“Thank you for the ice cream. I loved it.”

“I told you they were good,” she replied with a soft smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Don’t you want to buy anything else?” You asked, pointing over your shoulder to the street market still happening.

Elizabeth looked over and thought for a few seconds, before she looked at you again. “No. I think we’re good.”

“Okay.” You nodded and turned around. “Let’s take a walk then. I know they have a dog park on the other side and I really want to see some cute dogs today.”

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, probably thinking if she should take you away from the camera still lurking around, but she saw your excited smile and quickly made up her mind. She curled one arm around your waist and you started walking slowly along with the other people enjoying the day out.

You took four or five steps before getting out of the shadow you had been and the sun hit your face full force. It wasn’t a warm day per se, since it was early autumn, but the sun was already making his presence known after a long winter, so you weren’t surprised there were that many people out. You raised your hand to try to cover up the sun from your eyes, even if you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay like that for much longer. Before you could think too much about it, though, Elizabeth took her sunglasses and handed them to you.

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“Keep it,” she insisted.

You were about to try to give her the sunglasses back when she kissed the side of your head and you lost all ability to talk suddenly. Elizabeth smiled like she knew what she was doing when she did that, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain, so you just slid the glasses in place and tried to ignore the blush on your cheeks. You walked for maybe two minutes before any of you talked again.

“You know we’re going further away from our car, right?” Elizabeth asked, albeit she sounded amused.

You remembered where she had parked her car because you had to walk there three times to put away the things she bought, but you didn’t care. You would walk a marathon if you had to. Anything for Elizabeth… and some cute dogs.

“I know,” you agreed and then joked: “But now I have sunglasses.”

Elizabeth laughed happily and you decided there was nothing in the world able to keep you from hearing it for the rest of your life.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

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