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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Could I request something with the prompt, “that’s a mighty sexy costume you’re wearing” with best friend!Eddie seeing bookworm!Reader in a skimpy costume for the first time? Maybe a lil smutty, if you want, but no pressure! - @munson-blurbs 💚

AN | Ooh, this is a great idea! I feel like Eddie would just short circuit! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

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"I have bad news," you walked into the trailer without ceremony or announcing yourself, dumping your purse near the door and kicking off your shoes.

Eddie looked up from the couch, where he was sprawled out, nose buried in his book. He quickly set it down and gave you his full attention, raising an eyebrow.

“The absolute worst,” you flopped down on the couch where he had made room for you, huffing dramatically. Eddie snorted in amusement as you made yourself comfortable on the opposite, positioning yourself so that your feet were touching his. You relaxed slightly now that you were back in his presence, his magnetic warmth and charm washing over you.

“And just what are these horrible, terrible, very bad news?” he nudged your foot with his and offered you a small, encouraging smile. You could have easily melted into a puddle from that alone, “lay it on me.”

“I…” you leaned in, playing up the theatrics as you knew from years of being his best friend that he often did. He mirrored your position, the two of you looking at each other with matching grins.

“You…”

“I…don’t have a Halloween costume,” with that, you leaned back and threw your arm over your eyes, making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, “what am I supposed to do now?”

“Oh. My. God,” he reached for your hands and pulled you closer, a deeply concerned look on his face, “this is the worst. What are we going to do? I think…I think we might have to cancel Halloween this year.”

“NO!” you closed your eyes and clutched at your heart, “no. It’s our favorite holiday. You must go on without me!”

When you looked at Eddie again, the two of you broke into a fit of giggles. He loved when you were like this, so free and open and utterly yourself. He knew you were shy and more quiet around others - until you warmed up to them - but there had always been something special, something different about the bond the two of you shared. You were…everything to him, even if you, or he, didn't know that.

"C'mon sweetheart," he stood up and gestured toward the kitchen with a crook of his head, "pizza got here just before you did. Let's eat and then we can figure out this little conundrum."

"What kind did you get?" You bounced after him, stomach almost grumbling as you took in the mouth watering sight of the pizza boxes.

"My favorite and yours," he stated as though it was the most obvious thing into the world, "didn't really think I'd let me girl go without exactly what she wants, right?"

"N-no," my girl. Your head was buzzing with those two simple words. He'd said them so many times over the years that sometimes you even allowed yourself to think that they held more meaning than they truly did, "I should have known better."

"Yes you should have," he reached into the fridge and pulled out a few beers, "now dig in so we can start our movie and then solve all your problems!"

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"So," the two of you were sitting on the floor of the trailer's living room. The space was always cozy and inviting, especially towards the colder months, always overflowing with blankets and good food. You took a big bite of pizza and chewed it thoughtfully, "what led to this coming to an issue?"

"Ugh," you swallowed thickly before wiping your greasy fingers on a napkin, "I went to a couple of stores and halloween shops to look for costumes with Nance and Robin. And there was practically nothing there!"

"Nothing of interest? Nada? Zilch?"

"There were some," you admitted sheepishly, cheeks growing warm as you thought to the costumes you did see. Eddie seemed to sense your hesitation and motioned for you to go on. His big brown eyes were concentrated on you and that made your mouth run dry, "but they were umm…they were sexy."

You whispered the last part so softly that Eddie almost didn't even hear you. But once he processed what you said, his face went through a copy of different expressions before settling on curiosity, "sexy?"

"Sexy," you repeated gravely with a nod, "like sexy nurse, sexy witch, sexy pirate, sexy everything! The only costumes that weren't like that were the complete opposite! I can either be a sexy scientist or a big, round pumpkin. Why can't there be a middle ground?"

Eddie had been listening, and listening intently, but his brain was currently having a moment. As soon as you said sexy, his mind went completely into the gutter. He would have been a dirty, filthy liar if he said he hadn't immediately started imagining you in said costumes. He hated that he did that but he was just a simple man after all. And you were the girl he was in love with so naturally…it went hand in hand.

"Eddie? Hello….earth to Eddie," you were waving your hand in front of his face as he blinked and pulled himself back into reality. His cheeks flushed a pretty shade of bubblegum pink as he smiled sheepishly at you, "you alright there, space cadet?"

“Y-yeah,” and he was a liar. A damn, dirty liar. He was currently trying, and struggling, not to pop a boner at the mere thought of you. Eddie shifted slightly to try and make his situation a little less obvious but it didn’t help, “so…umm, ugh - maybe we could make costumes?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought about too,” luckily you were so worried about your own ordeal that you didn’t notice his, “I guess we could do that. Maybe as a last resort. I was thinking about going into Indy with Steve soon and looking. I’m sure I’ll figure something out. You still want to go to that big party with everyone, right?”

“Of course - as long as it’s what you want,” he was always looking out for you. It made you feel so safe and loved, “but that sounds like it’ll be fun. Can’t wait for Steve to bust out those dance moves again.”

“Seriously!” The last party the lot of you had been to had ended with a very not sober Steve who insisted he could dance. He couldn’t but it was still hilarious for the rest of you, “it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun! I just have to figure out a costume, which I’m sure I will.”

“Of course you will, sweetheart,” was it shameful that Eddie was lowkey but definitely high key wishing for you to wear something sexy? Probably, but his brain was feeling very simple at the moment, “this Halloween will be a great one.”

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“I think I am having second thoughts,” you looked yourself over in the mirror and sighed deeply, “a lot of them.”

“You look amazing,” Robin appeared behind you in the mirror, hands on your shoulders as she pressed a kiss to your cheek, “stunning.”

“I feel naked,” you definitely weren’t but it was still way less clothing than you were used to wearing or that anyone had seen you in. Looks like you really went with sexy after all. It was supposed to be just nerdy…but it ended up being that and a whole lot more. Or less if you were really thinking about it, “are you sure this doesn’t look ridiculous?”

“Princess Leia would be proud,” She grinned at you before stepping into the bathroom to finish her own makeup. You cringed slightly…you had a feeling Leia wouldn’t inherently be proud but she was all about autonomy and you were exercising yours so…it was all fine. Right? Right.

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you grabbed your coat off the hook by the front door and wrapped yourself up in it. There was no reason to be cold already after all.

“Coming!” Nancy and Robin were both putting on the last touches to their costumes - a couple’s costume - which you thought was already. Their relationship wasn’t terribly new anymore but you could see just how enamored they were with each other. It was disgustingly cute. You couldn’t help but wonder at times, if Eddie had ever looked at you like that. If only you knew.

“This is going to be so much fun!” the three of you were meeting the boys at the party and you couldn’t completely shake off the nerves. Especially every time you thought of Eddie.

You supposed you’d get his response soon enough. What would happen was anyone’s guess.

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“Was your costume…supposed to be girl in trenchcoat?” Eddie’s voice was soft and warm in your ear as the two of you headed towards the bar to get some drinks for the table. People around you were in various stages of sobriety and costumes, but it was a good party and everyone seemed to be having a good time. You were ready to do the same…maybe. Hopefully a few drinks would help.

“No…not really,” you turned to Eddie and couldn’t help but look him up and down again. He was dressed as a vampire, silly plastic fangs half hanging out of his mouth. He looked pretty good, but you loved the fact that he still managed to be so himself, “it’s underneath.”

“Are you gonna show me or are you going to keep it hidden all night?” he settled his hands on your waist as he stood behind you as you approached the bar. The feel of his touch on you sent electric shivers down your spine. If only he knew how close he was to touching your bare skin, “mmm, sweetheart?”

“I-I can show you,” your eyes grew wide, heart pounding as loudly as the bass pouring through the club’s speakers. You swallowed thickly, “but can we go somewhere a little more private? I’m still not sure if I’m totally comfortable with it. I guess…maybe you could give me your opinion.”

His curiosity was piqued as he blinked at you a few times before nodding, “yes, of course. Always.”

He almost died when he felt your fingers wrapped around his wrist, quickly following behind as you pulled him towards a more secluded area near the bathrooms. Once you were sure you were away from prying eyes, you fumbled with the belt holding your coat closed.

“If it’s super terrible, be nice please. It’s so out of my comfort zone and I don’t know what I was thinking, but here we are,” before he could say anything, you unknotted the tie and let the coat fall open. After a moment to psych yourself up, you shrugged the coat off and draped it over one arm and gave Eddie a vague little ta da.

He didn’t say anything - couldn’t say anything as he stared at you. It took every fiber of his being to remain objective and not let his more animal part of his brain take over. You interpreted his silence to mean it was terrible and that he’d never seen anything worse. You scrambled to try and put on your coat again, but he put his hand on your arm and shook his head, “Eddie?”

“That’s…umm. Wow. That’s a mighty sexy Halloween costume,” he finally spoke and his voice sounded so strained. You bit your lip and looked at him with big doe eyes; you were going to be the death of him, “sweetheart, I thought…this wasn’t what you wanted?”

“It wasn’t initially what I wanted but then I couldn’t find anything else and then I just sorta settled on…this,” you gestured vaguely at yourself, keenly aware of how much the Princess Leia bikini costume revealed - it left very little to the imagination, “umm, is it that bad?”

“N-no,” he swallowed the thick lump in his throat, “fuck no. You look amazing.”

And oh. That wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. Eddie wasn’t sure if he was really going to say that to you, but he didn’t feel like holding back either. Maybe now was the time - the time to tell you how he’d felt about you for so long now.

“Really?” you sounded much too sweet and demure for someone looking so ridiculously sexy. He nodded so vigorously that his chocolatey curls were bouncing around, “it’s not…stupid?”

“Not at all,” his hands settled on your forearms as he looked around. There was something that came over him that caused him to feel partially possessive of you, “listen I…fuck. You look so good and I know what all those guys are going to be thinking. Because…honestly? I’m thinking the same thing.”

“What do you…oh,” your entire body felt like it was on fire from his intense gaze. You weren’t exactly sure what response you had been expecting from him, but this wasn’t what you had imagined. It felt so…invigorating and thrilling, “you think it…I look good?”

“Angel, you always look good - better than good. But this is…a whole level,” you swore his eyes got darker as he leaned in closer, his cologne washing over you, “never thought my little bookworm would look like this.”

“Me neither,” you weren’t sure if you were reading the situation right, or just dreaming that it was going the way it was, but you were definitely feeling a type of way, “I guess we should go back to everyone.”

“Hmm? Oh,” he silently cursed the fact that you were at a party. He wanted you all to himself and he didn’t care that it was selfish, “yeah. I guess we should.”

“It’ll be fun,” you nudged his arm with a small smile, “c’mon, let’s go and get those drinks.”

You were still feeling self-conscious but Eddie’s reaction gave you a little bit of a much needed confidence boost. He trailed closely behind you as you made your way back to the bar; he could see the way heads turned in your direction, eagerly looking you up and down.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he huffed under his breath, glaring down anyone who looked at you for too long.

He didn’t even care if it made him look like an asshole. You were his and tonight he was going to make sure you and everyone else knew that.

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The party seemed to drag on and on, and Eddie knew that he was probably getting more sour by the minute. He kept an eye on you as you went out and danced with Robin and Nancy, his conversation with the guys half-hearted as he kept zoning out of the conversation. As it grew later into the evening, Eddie had had enough.

“Sweetheart,” he found you at a table with Nancy and Robin and a few other girls that you’d befriended. He leaned in so only you could hear, “do you want to go? It’s getting late. We could-”

“Yes!” you turned to him eagerly, already waving goodbye to your friends as Eddie shot them an apologetic look. Robin and Nancy weren’t bothered, they were more than supportive of what was going on.

“Do you want me to take you home?” The cool night breeze was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the club. He offered you your coat back and you slipped back into it, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Can we go to yours instead?” and why would Eddie ever deny you? You looped your arm through his and leaned in close as you walked to the van, “maybe we can watch a scary movie or something. I just…I wanna hang out with you.”

“Of course,” he gave you a gentle squeeze as he opened the door to the van and helped you in. He would have done anything for you - anything you asked of him, “to Casa Munson we go!”

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"Eddie?" The two of you were sitting criss cross applesauce on the living room floor, a big bowl of popcorn between your bodies and some random slasher playing on the television. He shoved his handful of popcorn into his mouth and motioned for you to go on. You were both still in costumes and he was struggling not to keep stealing glances at you, "can I ask you something?"

"Ofcourseanything," he mumbled through his mouth of popcorn. He swallowed it down before nodding and clearing his throat, "yeah."

"Would you have sex with me?"

Eddie choked on air as soon as he heard your question, coughing violently as he tried to figure out if you had seriously asked him that. Your own face turned so warm you were sure you could fry an egg on it.

“I just…I meant like if you didn’t know me or if you like had any more feelings than just friends feelings,” you were quickly trying to backtrack and reiterate your question. You almost wished that you hadn’t said anything at all, “like would you have sex with me if you saw me like this?”

“I…” Eddie’s brain was short circuiting as he tried not to imagine all the ways and scenarios in which he would very much like to have sex with you. The question now was how would he tell you that yes, he would very much have sex with you without weirding you out or ruining everything. That or he could just…he could tell you how he truly felt.

“You know what, nevermind,” you were ready to stand up and run out. You’d run home if you had to - anything to avoid more of this situation, “forget I asked. I just…yeah. Sorry, Eddie. Can we just pretend that nothing happened?”

“Yes,” he said suddenly just as you were sure you were going to die of embarrassment.

“Umm…yes to what? Yes to ignoring that this happened or -”

“Yes, I would have sex with you,” you froze, eyes almost comically wide as you stared at him. Eddie’s entire face and neck were turning to a violent shade of crimson, “I-I respectfully of course.”

“You would?” you sounded so sweet and innocent despite not even trying to, “really?”

“Yes,” he nodded fervently as you relaxed, leaning in closer to him. If it had been almost any other man you would have felt uncomfortable but never with Eddie. He’d never once made you feel anything by safe and happy and…loved. A nervous laugh escaped the boy as he scooted closer, your hands almost brushing, “I don’t just want…it wouldn’t just be sex. It’s about so much more than that. Because I…it’s never just been that. I feel…very strongly for you.”

“Eddie?” your entire body felt like it was vibrating with energy as your heart pounded in your ribcage. You were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage with how hard it was going. Was he seriously saying what you thought he was? Was there actually a chance that Eddie Munson felt the same the way about you that you felt about him? You leaned in so your face was closer to his, voice dropping low, “what do you mean? Tell me…please.”

"Sweetheart…fuck. I've thought about this so many times in the past. Pictured this exact moment so many times…but you're not usually in a Princess Leia costume," his little quip caused both of you to laugh softly, "I adore you. I have for so long now and I love everything about you and who you are and…I'm in love with you."

Oh. Oh. You hadn’t been expecting to hear that. Maybe you had, deep down, always known how Eddie truly felt. But hearing him verbalize it was on a whole other level. When you didn’t say anything in response, Eddie feared that he had said the entirely wrong thing.

But then you looked at him with nothing short of heart eyes, smiling softly. That was definitely one of his favorite sights in the entire world. He hoped he'd get to see it every day for the rest of his lifetime.

"I've pictured this moment too, so many times," you moved your hand closer, letting your pinky brush against his, "and it didn't involve you as a vampire. Usually though, in these scenarios I'm one that says it first. I adore you beyond words, Eddie."

He brought his hand to gently rest on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You looked down at your hands and couldn't keep the beaming grin off your face. This evening had definitely taken a turn that you weren't expecting.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" His face was close to yours and you studied him. He really was pretty with those soft brown eyes and pink lips and the faint freckles that dotted along his cheeks and nose. You nodded once before reaching up and touching his face with your free hand, stroking your thumb over his cheek.

"I'm in love with you, Eddie."

He let out an incredulous little sigh as his eyes quickly shifted down to your lips. Your tummy was fluttering with butterflies by now, "may I kiss you?"

"I hope so," with Eddie there were no nerves, only sheer excitement, "we've waited long enough for this."

That was all he needed before he closed the small bit of remaining distance and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips as you leaned into him, wanting every bit of him. As he continued to kiss you, you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Eddie was pretty sure he was in heaven as his hands settled on the soft, warm skin of your hips. There was no learning curve with him, it just all felt right and natural, like the two of you had been doing it forever.

He kissed you dizzy and neither of you pulled away until you were breathless. He pressed his forehead to yours and took your face tenderly in his hands.

"This is better than I ever imagined," he confessed sheepishly. You could feel that he was getting hard as you rocked yourself against him, "fuck, sweetheart."

"Don't stop," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, "don't ever stop kissing me."

"Sweetheart," he was breathing hard, his entire world being rocked by you, "if we keep going I'm not sure I'll be able to stop. And I don't want to push you or make you do anything you don't want to."

"I want this," you were kissing along his jaw and neck, finally marking what had always been yours, "I want you. And not just now, but always."

"O-okay," he was having a hard time not losing it and cumming in his pants like a teenager at the feeling of your lips and hands all over his skin, "me too."

"I love you, Eddie," you stopped and softly kissed his lips, "so much."

"I love you too, angel," he nudged his nose against yours, "happy Halloween."

"Eddie," your laugh was like magic. You both knew you'd remember this day and this Halloween for the rest of your lives, "happy Halloween, love."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st #spooky season time!

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swayziiwriter · 11 months

Text

Yours | Jude Bellingham

summary: heart racing, Jude was fresh off his EURO qualifying eager to make his girlfriend sweat and plead for his body

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

NOTE: a little something until I get my more detailed chapters out

Jude was in an outright wild state. The main sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom were his hips snapping into yours in a fierce speed and noisy constant cries pouring from your slobbering mouth. iIt was excessively suggestive, so salacious, and grimy that he wishes he can consume right now in his cerebrum to store and replay.

For the absence of better words, he was unable to get enough of it, so focused on how his cock fits so cozily in your throbbing walls, it seemed like he was beyond happy exclusively due to the hold your drenched pussy has on him. He was unable to try and pull away from you in the event that he needed to, just being sucked in at whatever point his hips move back. Jude was wanting to endeavor from ever eliminating himself from you in any case, he could become mixed up in this sensation forever and that is precisely the exact thing he wanted.

That wasn't even the main thing that had him in this strangle hold, his eyes couldn't quit focusing in on your lovely highlights responding to each haul of his cock, eyes screwed shut and temples scrunching in pleasure. You looked frantically entrancing under him, completely destroyed and unfit to contain your despicable groans with your nails diving into his arms. There was sweat that began to dot onto every last trace of your delicate skin hosing the sheets, that as well as your mind getting away from the truth was quite noticeable and he was going haywire from everything.

His eyes blurred over with desire at the sight and his eagerness defeated him. It lighted something so licentious in his very being that his pushes became more earnestly, sloppier, battering your inner parts determined to spill a heap to paint your walls white.

"I’m gonna-fuck!" You cry. He snorts out, blood humming when you press around him so immovably, "Jude-Jude please give it to me” you begged, arms grabbing at anything. “is that right? you'd like that wouldn’t you?” He teased, hand’s coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Make you mine huh? I think you’d like if I’d fill that pretty pussy up with my cum. He's proclaiming careless words, gasping shakily from the responsiveness, balls going tight.

"All mine." He groans, you both apparently couldn't regulate a solitary reasonable idea. just focusing on attempting to arrive at your climaxes. "yes--ah, all yours Jude only you” that was enough for him to overturn the edge, spilling his cum within you with a short of breath heave. It was so quick and abrupt that it left him stunned and puzzled.

You accomplished your own climax upon the sensation of the warm fluid spraying somewhere down in your center, you clasp down and writhe around him, draining him for everything he has. A clear white ring paints the foundation of his length when he bucks gradually to quiet down both of your highs.

Yet again he shivers at the consequential convulsions in weariness yet when he sees you totally screwed out-his cock blends, jerking and turning out to be hard once more. He flickers once. twice. Taking into account over his best course of action. You were unable to try and answer when your body moves no sweat, as though you weighed only a quill. His solid veiny hands takes tightly to your waist to put you on all fours preceding pushing your head down onto the messy bed, holding your scruff with one palm to keep you set up.

With your butt in the air, the cum begins to leak out of your pussy-spilling down to your clit. Quickly, he gets the liquid with his tip and hauls it to your opening once more, diving his full length into you to screw the cum back inside, making you kick your feet in shock. The rich pillows impeccably quieting your shouts.

"Can't waste any of it baby, need to give you more. make you brimming with it." He's not even irritated by the overstimulation consuming the fat top of his dick, you had him at your mercy without a doubt, and he was unable to be more satisfied.

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swifty-fox · 1 month

Note

For the bathing prompts, #1 for clegan PLEASE 🙇🏻‍♀️

¹⁾ sitting on the edge of the bathtub and letting them lay their head against your thigh as the fatigue starts taking hold

What they're supposed to do, what their loose orders are is to stay on base. To rest and heal and have medical eyes on them to make sure their wasted bodies weren't about to give out on them.

Gale had been back months before John had, and though he'd regained muscle that John was struggling to catch up to, there was a haunted animal look in his pale eyes that just wouldn't quit. There were bags under his eyes like he hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep since his return. A fact, John knew to be true because the restless paranoia wafting off of Buck like a physical scent was keeping him up as well.

The doctor kept telling him to sleep, he kept telling them "I can't"

I can't, not when my other half lies awake.

So, really, neither of them are sleeping. Neither of them are relaxing and the nurses keep warning John about what stress and starvation did to the heart and poor Buck had gotten smaller than the rest of them. And so when Bucky marches into Chick Harding's office for two weekend passes he's back out before the ink had even finished drying.

He drives them to the nearest inn, somewhere off campus where the doors locked and they had a double-bedded room to themselves. There's a small balcony with squashed but comfortable-looking cushions and two pairs of dressers to match the two beds and through a cracked door John can make out a warmly tiled bathroom with a clawfoot tub dropped in the center like a great contented cat..

Buck, who had gone silent the moment he'd no longer had to act as God-come-home for their flyboys and the new recruits they'd become legend and fable to, sat on the bed slowly removing his cufflinks and staring at his feet. His face, while not particularly concerning in its expression, aches with exhaustion and a quiet melancholy that John felt mirrored in his own chest. They had looked into the horrors and the horrors had looked right back and now they both carried the scars of it with them.

He's fine for now, so Bucky leaves him to his undressing, smoothing a thumb across Gale's forehead as he goes and gets a faint smile in return. He takes his time unpacking their duffels, heads down to charm to the lady of the house into some cucumber and chicken sandwiches made with real saw-dust free bread and scampers back put to the room with his prize.

Gale's still on the bed, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs, sprawled on his back now with one hand over his eyes and the other on the hollow rise and fall of his stomach. Not asleep, but resting at the very least and John takes full advantage of the chance to admire the graceful curve of the other man's body. The delicate just of his wrists, and relaxed put of his flush lips. The smooth jaw that would be stubbled by midnight and the flat downy hair on his thighs and legs.

He was too skinny, wasted muscle and shoulders that were angular where they should be soft and rounded, his collarbones a series of mountains ratner than hills. But he was alive and breathing and free and for the first time in years he's all John's.

He sets the plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade he'd gotten just for the reward of being so handsome - the madam's words not his - on the nightstand and pads into the bathroom. His knees click and his body protests as he kneels in front of the giant tub, and he remembers he too is running on fumes and stubbornness and pure Pilot luck. Running the water he waits for it to heat up before plugging the drain. There's a bottle of something sweet-smelling on a stool by the faucet and he tips it into the churning water experimentally, exclaiming quietly when bubbles smelling of lemon and lavender foam up.

Leaving the tub to its filling he makes his way out to the main room and brushes a soft kiss over the knuckles covering Gale's eyes.

"C'mon doll, lets get some food in you."

Gale makes a soft noise of protest but rises, eyes drooping tiredly and happy to settle against John's side.

They're both silent as they eat, both reverent to the point of religion at the freedom to fill their bellies.

"Real bread," Gale comments.

They each eat two apiece, drink half the pitcher and John kisses the sour-sweet droplets of lemonade from the pillow of Gale's upper lip. Tugs him up gently to be led across the room and into the now steamy bathroom.

"Bucky come on we were going to sleep -" he cuts off, looking at the tub and the popping chromatic bubbles covering the surface like a cloud. His face pinches inwards, brows lowering over his sunken eyes in an aching expression.

"Jesus, John."

Slipping behind him, dragging his hands up the stepstones of Gale's ribs and dragging his shirt with it, John presses a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, "You hate going to bed unclean."

Johns hand is spread across the center of Gale's chest, a soothing slow circle of pressure he knew made Gale melt into relaxing, so he feels clearly the ragged sobbing inhale that shivers through the blonde. But when he looks Gale's face is dry, lips parted just slightly and eyes fixed on the tub.

"I don't want to fall asleep in the bath on you."

"I won't let you slip under, sweetheart."

John slides out from behind Gale, stealing his shirt as he goes and settling on the stool. He toes his shoes and socks off, rolls his army regulation slacks up past his knees so he can stick two feet in the tub and gestures.

"Come on in Major, waters fine."

Gale shakes his head, puffing out a laugh and drags his briefs down his legs.

It's equal parts admiration and grief in how Bucky stares at his lovers body. Wasted from what it once was. Beautiful to him always. He schools his expression into something more neutral when Gale looks up, lifts a hand to help him into the tub without slipping and guides him down into the water.

The delicious groan Gale lets out, lashes fluttering, shoulders and head slumping forward in relief is better than any reward.

"That's good," Gale sighs.

"Yeah?" John whispers, rubbing his hands along the hills of Gale's spine, drags his thumb along the bump of them and massaging his fingers along the nape of Gale's neck until he makes another helpless noise and grows more boneless.

"Y'wanna get in?"

John shakes his head, fingers still working at the tension around Gale's spine, "Naw, enjoying watching you have a good time. You look cute with all the bubbles."

Gale chokes out a laugh, shudders out another one of those awful sobbing breaths. This time his shoulders flinch with it, and the roll through Gale's body like a tidal wave and John makes a noise of concern.

"Hey Buck," he says softly, scritching his nails along Gale's scalp, "Hey my man, my fella."

"It feels so good," Gale repeats, words clicking and wet and young.

Gale wasn't a man who needed coddling, and he certainly wasn't prone to outbursts of emotion and John is loathe to do anything that might put a stop to the release of emotion. So he lets Gale weep, lets him cry out all the poison he'd been carrying around and rubs his back and when he's finally done, bends to press a kiss the center of Gale's spine.

"Tired," Gale mumbles softly, sniffles wetly and the water splashes as he reaches up a hand to rub at his eyes.

"Okay," John says softly, "You wanna get out?"

Gale shakes his head and John hums, plucks at the blonde strands that had fallen out of the careful coif from the humidity.

"Alright," John says, guiding Gale's head to his higher where the other man sighs, nuzzling into his hip and relaxing bonelessly, "I've got you, won't let you slip, doll."

#swiftywrites #clegan #buck x bucky #mota #masters of the air #gale gets a bubble bath thats it thats the fic #cw body image

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munsonkitten · 6 months

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Sub Eddie Week - Day 1: Accidental Subspace / Manhandling - AO3 Link - @subeddieweek

Out of all the times Eddie’s been to the Harrington mansion for a party, he’s never ventured upstairs. Everything he ever needs has always been on the main level or the basement. He can set up shop in one corner of the house and have his entire stash cleaned out in an hour. Home before eleven with cash burning a hole in his pocket.

The house is even busier than usual. It’s February, and Eddie doesn’t recall ever coming to a winter party at the Harrington house. Usually people are out in the yard and in the pool, but tonight the house is jam packed, everyone keeping out of the cold outside. It’s good for business though. He’s out of coke, still has a couple grams of weed, a few odds and ends in pill form, and he could easily sell the rest out in no time if he could think about anything other than his full bladder. The bathroom in the hallway near the kitchen has had a line all night because of all the people in the house.

He knows there’s a bathroom in the basement, but he knows it doesn’t have a lock on the door, and he’s not risking anyone walking in while he’s taking a leak. At least there’s less people upstairs. People tend to think it’s off limits even if Harrington’s never said anything to indicate that. Not to Eddie, at least — not that he really talks to Eddie much. He came by when he first got here, bought out half his weed, said something about making himself at home, and then disappeared somewhere, and hasn’t been seen since.

Some blonde girl with huge hair and bright eye makeup comes out of one of the doors upstairs. Eddie figures that’s probably gotta be the bathroom if no one else is following her out, so he tries that door.

It’s not a bathroom.

Steve Harrington is laying there in his bed without any pants on, and Eddie realizes that girl probably just hooked up with him and dashed, but — but no, Steve’s dick is still hard. His dick is hard and huge, and his hand is wrapped around it, but not moving at all, and Eddie — Eddie is just staring.

He’s just standing there in Steve’s bedroom doorway staring at the huge dick in his hand. And Steve glances over and sighs, like he doesn’t even care he’s been found like this. He almost looks defeated, which Eddie supposes makes sense if he’s still hard and his hookup just left.

“What are you doing? Waiting for someone to just come sit on your dick?” Eddie asks.

“What, are you offering?” Steve shoots back.

He grabs his blanket and covers himself up, hiding his huge dick from Eddie’s view. He’s not urgent in his movements, probably comfortable being naked in front of guys after all these years of playing sports and changing in locker rooms.

“Don’t cover up on my account,” Eddie says. “I’m just looking for a bathroom.”

read the rest on AO3

#subeddieweek #steddie #my fics #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve/eddie #steddie fic #stranger things #trans eddie munson

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Note

The Wild Side was so adorable and my heart wouldn’t be able to take it if you wrote something for the other characters (and Azra!) Maybe their animals from the Magical Eggs event would work, but I’d love to see your take, too.

a/n: I’m using the dateables’ onesies for their animal inspiration. I wouldn’t put it past solomon to jinx them somehow during a sleepover.

the wild side: slumber party edition | the dateables + azra

1k words | sfw | more silly fluff + humor

cw: relationships can be romantic or platonic in nature (your choice) except for luke, he is our baby brother and must be protected at all costs.

Lucifer arrives at the Demon Lord's Castle with little fanfare. You were supposed to be having a slumber party with Diavolo and the residents of Purgatory Hall, and he incorrectly assumed there was no possible way things could go wrong. He started receiving a series of alarming messages from staff at the castle that something strange was going on. He hears a disturbance as soon as he lets himself inside the main entrance hall. A loud ruckus coming from the ballroom, typically used to host the young prince's lavish parties, draws his attention. He opens the door and is completely stunned, shocked into silence by the chaos he finds within...

The Dragon (Diavolo)

It's a minor miracle that he's not a full-sized dragon. He's a bit smaller than Cerberus is and the ballroom is spacious—he has plenty of room to stretch his wings.

Judging by the scorch marks across the ballroom's marble flooring, he hasn't figured out how to control his flames yet.

(As soon as Lucifer walked into view, Diavolo snorted happily through his nose. He shot flames across the room and another set of curtains is currently on fire.)

Diavolo's still aware of his size and potential danger. He does his best to keep away from you and Luke who are at the greatest risk of being stepped on.

His scales are very warm to the touch. Barbatos can't land on him without injuring himself, so he squawks angrily at his young master from a safe distance.

He was excited to host this little sleepover for everyone to watch some new movies together, but he thinks this is even better!

The Owl (Barbatos)

He's very anxious, but you can tell he looks at you differently vs. the way he looks at Diavolo Solomon everyone else...

He doesn't believe in regicide, but Diavolo is going to be punished severely after this. And Solomon, too—this is his fault!

(Being a dragon is no excuse for his master to engage in such reckless destruction. He's going to burn down the whole castle at this rate!)

The Little Ds are enjoying this far too much and slacking off on their duties while they watch the madness unfold. The least they could do is help put out these wretched fires...

Barbatos doesn't seem to be nearly as intimidating in this smaller form. Diavolo rolls his eyes when he hoots at him, and the Little Ds keep tugging on his tail feathers teasingly and dashing away.

(If they think he's going to forget this, they're sorely mistaken.)

He gives up on trying to reign in the mayhem and tries to stick close to you instead. You're so small and fragile in your little sheep form, he worries the others might hurt you by accident. He pecks at them to remind them to be gentle.

When everything gets too overwhelming, he flies up and rests on one of the sconces on the wall or the chandelier.

(He nearly falls to the floor when the magic spell finally fades away mid-flight, and that makes him even angrier.)

The Panther (Simeon)

His main concern is keeping an eye on you and Luke. It's amusing to watch the others though; he's content to stick to the edges of the room and observe the chaos.

This is actually great inspiration for a new novel! Or maybe he should try writing a children's book. You would make a cute main character!

He carries Luke somewhere safe when he inevitably falls asleep from all the excitement.

(Solomon and Azra get so distracted picking fights with each other that Simeon picks you up by your collar and carries you to where Luke is sleeping. He curls around your little sleep pile protectively until the spell wears off.)

The Red Panda (Luke)

He's too small to get into too much trouble, but he has a surprising amount of fun—probably the most fun out of everyone, except for Diavolo.

He's not used to having a tail and he trips on it a few times by accident when he runs too fast. He swears that Simeon chuckles in a weird, cat-like way when he falls on his face with a growl.

He follows you around the ballroom, but the other animals are so much scarier bigger than he's too nervous to get close to them.

There are still trays of desserts on the table from dinnertime, and he helps himself to some sweets.

(The spell and abundance of sugar knocks him out cold in less than an hour.)

The Wolf (Solomon)

He didn't mean for this to happen, but he's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

He saunters around, swishing his fluffy white tail and showing off his stunning wolf form for you to admire. For some reason, you don't seem that impressed.

You squirm and glare at him when he tries to kiss lick your face, too.

He lays down and rolls over, hoping that you'll curl up with him because his fur is so warm and perfect to snuggle in.

Maybe you're just shy? The hellhound won't leave you alone but Solomon's not sure he can take him on in a fight...

(Really, can't he enjoy your company for once without one of the demons butting their nose where it doesn't belong?)

The Hellhound (Azra)

You said this was supposed to be a fun little sleepover. He even put on that stupid onesie you bought him because you're cute when you pout you said it would be more fun this way. This was supposed to be a chance for him to get to know your friends—and now he's stuck as a dog!

You weren't immune to the mysterious magic either, and you and the young angel are the tiniest animals here. He's extra-vigilant about trying to keep the others away from you; he's scared they're going to hurt you by accident.

(He's never seen this side of Diavolo before, and he hates to admit how much fun it is watching the young prince set half the ballroom on fire while he shoots fireballs at random objects for target practice.)

He's very agitated when Solomon tries to approach you. That damn wolf keeps stalking you around the room with a hungry glint in his eye.

You don't seem happy with either of them when they start growling and snapping at each other and he's already thinking about how to make this up to you later.

(Maybe when this is over, he can convince you to go back home with him.)

read more: the demon brothers version | obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #my oc: azra #obey me oc

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littleplantfreak · 4 months

Text

Say my name - Sakura Haruka

Normally I'm bad with titles but without further ado! A ficlet(?) about Sakura struggling to call his lovely partner by their first name! It's SFW (but still under the cut) btw

I tried to keep it they/them for neutrality but if you find a stray 'she' somewhere that's my bad

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

“I really don’t know what to do with him Suo! Every time he tries to say it he just freezes and sputters until he calls me ‘you’ or he changes it to another word last minute. Last week he tried so hard he nearly turned purple and gave himself a headache!” whining, you practically drape yourself over the table in defeat.

“Wow…our captain really is shy when it comes to that stuff, huh?” Suo’s holding back but you can tell he wants to laugh. Once Sakura shows up he’ll throw a teasing remark or two in but you’ll still be at square one.

“Maybe a nickname? Or what if you don’t look at him when he says it? What if he spells it out-“

“I don’t think we need to go that far,” interjecting gently before Nirei could start going through an insane list of things that may or may not actually work for the present problem, Suo leans forward, looking at you from across the table. “There’s something we can try that might work if you're up for it."

——

It’s not a bad plan actually, if more simple than you thought it’d be. You’re waiting behind the support wall in the middle of Cafe Pothos, obscured from anyone just walking in. Nirei and Suo are at the same table near the front that you were at before, and Kotoha is cleaning dishes at the sink, though she knows what’s going on and has a ear turned towards the main stage of this event making sure she doesn’t miss a thing.

From where you’re peeking before Haruka opens the door, you can see Nirei’s tense shoulders, both trying and failing to appear casual not that your boyfriend will pay it any mind. Sometimes you're afraid he'll end up like Hiragi and his nervous stomach issues. Suo is the picture of tranquility as he eyes Nirei’s notebook before greeting Haruka. You hear your boyfriend stop, possibly looking around for where you said you’d be waiting for him earlier.

“Where’s-”

“A-ah…”

“Bathroom~,” Suo singsongs smoothing over his partner’s stuttering. “By the way, Nirei’s been wondering about their first name! It seems the notebook page he has on them is incomplete without it…” he’s drawing attention, not to the boy himself, but the pen and notebook he’s gripping on to waiting on Sakura to take the bait. Nirei had opted for silence as he clicks his pen and as if to write it down.

"It’s-" a short pause before he actual says the full weight of your name, matter of factly too, without fumbling it at all and you’re suddenly too giddy to contain yourself.

“S-Sorry I wasn’t listening. Could you say it again?” Nirei squeaks out.

There’s annoyance in his voice as Sakura says it again, and before he can get anything else out, you’ve decided this is your cue.

“Yes, Haruka?” You blink looking at him, poorly portraying innocence but you can tell blood is rushing to your face and you cannot rub your smile off if you tried.

“Oh my~ Sakura you’re so bold calling your partner by their first name!” Red eyes glittering wickedly as he taunts “How romantic!” He gasps with a hand over his mouth. Looking flustered but proud is Nirei, nodding vigorously, and Kotoha giving Sakura a pat on the back in congratulations. You’re proud of him yourself, despite having to coax your name out of him with the help of his vice captains.

He's wide-eyed going between you and Suo, gears clicking in to place that he'd been set up as he settles for firing at the brunette "Wha- you- I'm GONNA KNOCK YA-,"

"Oookay we're heading out now!" Before he starts a fight, you link an arm through his and begin leading him towards the door. He’s puffed up like an angry cat but his body completely yields when it’s you who’s maneuvering him away the cafe after saying a quick goodbye to everyone.

It's quiet, the path you take through town on the way to your house and he doesn't look at you when he mumbles a quiet apology. You aren't quite sure what he’s apologizing for but you stop walking and wait for him to start speaking again.

“Sorry fer takin’ so long to say it.” He’s still not looking at you but your heart breaks a little at how small he sounds. You touch his cheek enough for him to turn and look at you, uncertainty clear in his bi-colored eyes.

“Honey I never meant to rush you. If you’re still working on it that’s okay! I never wanna make you feel uncomfortable,” brows knit together in worry now that you’re holding his face in both hands, searching signs that you took it too far.

“I think I’ll be able to say it now - especially if it makes ya look as happy as ya did at the cafe. Not all the time, but when we're alone I think I can." He’s almost fully settled into your hands now, melting into warmth he’d been craving since he woke up this morning. He always wondered how such soft hands could touch something as rough as him and still continue to make the effort to hold him. You wait for him to finish soaking up his much needed affection for a few more minutes and then you're both walking again, slowed by the urge to stay close for as long as possible.

----

"...and she popped out from behind the pillar and said "Yes, Haruka?"" Kotoha mimics your voice as she's giving Umemiya the rundown of what he missed.

"He's growing up so fast!" He wails theatrically wiping a tear from his eye.

"He's changed a lot since he came here, and even more since they started dating. I think he's getting soft with how fast they were able to drag him away without a fight."

"So he went from alley cat to house cat huh. Nothing wrong with that." he grins digging into his omurice. Kotoha smiles and hums in agreement. Nothing wrong with that in the slightest.

#wind breaker #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #I think i managed neutral pronouns thorughout #also this is the longest thing ive ever written for a character esp cause its not headcanons #sorry if its bad #but tbh i think im exercising my writing muscles well despite the occasional struggle for words and grammar.#also can you tell i hate dialog? and every comma and quotation mark that comes with it

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anyarose011 · 2 months

Text

Christmas Time is Here {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Christmas (FINALLY) has arrived! What better way to spend the day full of cheer than with your family (and the boy you previously didn't really care for until just a few days prior). It'd be better if you could spend it in Boston as well...

Part 7 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Making out, swearing, talk of sex, and jokes about pimping out one's father.

Heyyyyyyy, what's uppppp, it's meeeeee. So...okay, long story short, I got back from strudying abroad and have been using this summer to just readjust to America (it's been rough, low key). So I just want to apologize for the long wait, and I hope this chapter is worth it. Also, because the main characters in this story (reader and Angus) are minors, I WILL NOT be adding smut. Still, thank you guys so much for your patience!

Word Count: 6.4k

youtube

You thought you slept in at first, until you glanced at the clock on the nightstand and read ‘7:30am’. Groaning, you sat up, rubbing your face when the realization hit you: It was Christmas!

That’s what caused you to leap out of your bed and immediately look under it, pulling out the three horribly wrapped gifts in newspapers tied with a twine ribbon. Before you could do anything else, a light knock on the doorway made you flinch.

“Yeah?” You whispered.

“Are you decent?”

Giggling at Angus’ use of your words from last night, you said. “Not really, I’m still in my pajamas.”

“Get dressed, I wanna show you something.”

You snorted. “You’re not gonna kill me or something, are you?”

“No, but on an unrelated note, we’re going off campus.”

“Wait,” your face dropped. “seriously?”

He snickered. “No. It’s just in the theater.”

You shook your head. “Okay, I’ll meet you in the hall.”

His footsteps echoed outside, and you decided to give him his gift early. After changing into a long-sleeved shirt and pants, then your socks and boots, you slipped out of the door whilst hiding the present behind your back.

“What’s behind your back?” Angus immediately asked once he saw you.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You teased. “It’s nothing.”

“Amy…”

Sighing overdramatically, you held out the gift. His eyes grew to the size of the moon (both things that you still think are beautiful) as he took it from you. “I…what is this?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “it’s a present, but you kind of have to open it to-.”

“-No, I mean…I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want anything.”

“Hey-.”

“-Ordinary people say ‘thank you’ and open the damn thing.” You smirked.

He mirrored your expression before tearing the newspapers. It was almost funny to you how Angus Tully looked as if his breath was stolen from his lungs just at the sight of Little Women in his hands.

“This is yours.”

“Well, it’s yours now. That’s kind of how gifts work.”

“It’s your favorite though.”

“Who told you it’s my favorite?” You tilted your head, as if challenging him.

You’d never seen a face whiter than the snow outside. “I-I, um, shit.”

“No,” you shook your head. “you’re telling me you kiss me so hard my lips turned blue in the kitchen-!”

“-Hey, hey! Shut up!” He tried to be serious but only ended up laughing.

“But you can’t remember what my favorite book is?!”

Taking a deep breath, Angus then said. “I’m sorry, okay?”

A smile pulled onto your lips. “Yeah, I’m just messing with you.”

“You’re horrible.”

“Thank you.” A giggle fell from you. “Oh god, I hope my dad didn’t hear that.”

“I checked his bed, he’s out somewhere.”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “escort me to the theater then.”

He grinned from ear to ear as he led you through the halls. Unashamedly, you were a bit disappointed; you wished he’d taken your hand. Still, despite the sun being out, to your knowledge, you were the only two people awake. You wouldn’t blame Mary for sleeping in, and it was Christmas, no way Danny would waste his time with you three; that man had family in Worcester.

When you and Angus made it to the theater, you both walked up the steps to the stage and after he set the book down on the floor, he leaned against the piano.

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Mr. Tully, you better not serenade me.”

“I’m not singing.” He tried not to smile.

“So, there is a God.”

“Quit it.” He snickered. “Sit down, I’m gonna teach you how to play the piano.”

Raising your brow, you said. “You told me you hadn’t played since you were ten.”

“I hadn’t taken lessons since I was ten. We have a piano back at home, so I still play sometimes.”

“Never here?”

“Never here. Come on.” he tilted his head to the bench.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down, placing your hands on the keys. Angus came to stand beside you. “Okay, you know the alphabet?”

“What the hell is that?”

“Perfect.” He scoffed, then pointed to the white keys. “So, you only have to know ‘A’ to ‘G’. If this,” he pressed the white key in the middle of the piano between two black keys. “is ‘D’, then what is this?” He hovered his finger above the white key to the right of it.

“E.” You said simply. “I do know that this ‘B’ key is out of tuned though.”

You reached over his arm and played the ‘C’ an octave above, bringing your face just a little closer to his. He smiled. “Okay smartass, you do know what the alphabet it.”

“Yeah, I just don’t know how to play anything, that’s all.”

Angus took your right hand in his hand (fucking finally), and brought your fingers to play the ‘E’ and ‘D#’ a few times before then ‘B’, ‘D’, ‘C’, and ‘A’.

“Know that one?” He asked.

“‘Fur Elise’.” You grinned at the name. “And you’re sure you wish I was your first kiss?”

He answered plain and simple. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you decided to keep toying with him. “what comes next? And I’m pretty sure I have to use my other hand at some point.”

You expected a retort from him, but he only went behind you and grabbed your left hand. Gently, he pressed his fingers over yours, and guided you to slowly play the piece by Beethoven. It was peaceful to say the least; well, as peaceful as it could be while your heart was trying to beat itself out of your chest.

As his chest hovered against your back, you decided to soothe your own worries.

“Son of a bitch, you just wanted to hold my hand!” You teased.

The music stopped as he pressed his face against your shoulder while laughing. It should’ve made you uneasy how just at ease he was around you; but perhaps you both had already acted like this before you kissed. Perhaps, with only being around him for a week, you had come to know him as a close friend (even with how much you loathed him at first).

He took his head off your shoulder and looked at you, his nose practically against yours. “And what if I did?”

This was the part where you were supposed to say something smart in return and make him feel just a bit stupid. But…were his eyes always that brown and beautiful?

You were just a girl; no one should blame you for immediately throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

Luckily, unlike the night before, he was less surprised this time. His arms were around your waist, and whether he meant to or not, he pulled you down to the floor with him when his own legs gave out.

Still, even though the sudden shift of your body caused you to squeak out in surprise, your lips didn’t leave his as your hands soon carded through his hair, and his moved further down your hips.

“I don’t want to do anything more,” you said quickly between kisses. “I don’t want to do anything more!”

His lips moved down to your neck, one of his hands came back up to cradle your jaw tenderly. “Me neither.”

“Okay.” You answered, your voice slightly pitched as he kissed your neck. Angus laid you down as softly as he could on the stage and hovered above you; his kisses never leaving your skin. His hand found yours and held it above your head as he brought his lips back up to yours. Even with it being clumsy, nothing in your whole life had felt so…good.

You wondered just how anyone on earth could get anything done after being kissed like this for the first time.

Perhaps it is because they hear their father calling their name.

At the sound of your father’s voice echoing through the halls, you and Angus froze. With one look, you both immediately pulled away, and he got off you, sitting on the piano bench and putting his hands on the keys.

It was quite comedic how that was the first time you heard him play; and he was quite good at it.

Luckily, you managed to get up and lean against the piano the moment the door to the auditorium opened and soon slammed shut. Angus stopped playing, and you both looked up and saw your father, huffing as if to catch his breath from running around everywhere.

“Merry Christmas.” Were his first words, and after both you and Angus repeated his sentiment, he then asked. “Where the hell have you been?”

You shrugged. “Just here.”

His eyes traveled to you and then to Angus, who, like any nervous teen boy who’d nearly been caught after making out with the teacher’s daughter, waved. Your father simply nodded. “Well, come on. I have something to show you two.”

He left through the doors he came in, and after you and Angus glanced at each other, you both followed; Angus picking up the book of course. Your father took you both to the dining hall where Mary had been waiting, and proudly presented a frankly shabby Christmas tree with some wrapped gifts to you.

“No ornaments?” Angus asked.

“Oh,” your father sighed. “I’m sure we can round up some ornaments somewhere. Uh, now.” He picked up one of the gifts, handing it to Angus. “This is for you.”

The boy glanced up at him as if he handed him the best thing he could receive that day (next to your copy of Little Women of course). He tore it open, and it was revealed to be another book.

“‘Meditations.’” Your father read the title. “by Marcus Aurelius. For my money, it’s like the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagavad Gita all rolled up into one. And the best part is not one mention of God.”

Mary huffed, obviously not a fan.

“And this,” he handed her the other package under the tree. “is for you.”

She opened it, revealing another book of ‘Meditations’. “So, you just give this to everyone?”

“And.” He gave her the other gift under the tree; that being a horribly wrapped bottle of whiskey.

That got her to smile wide as she took it. Your father, grabbing the final package under the tree, then handed it to you. “Yes, it’s a book, no, it’s not ‘Meditations’.”

Smiling, you unwrapped it and stood absolutely still in shock before exploding into a cheer. “Where did you get this?! I couldn’t find even in Boston!”

“The day trip we took to New York for Thanksgiving? Found it while you wandered off in the bookstore.” He joked.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried.

“What is it?” Angus asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Maria,” you answered. “by Mary Wollstonecraft. She’s Mary Shelley’s mom.”

“Like, Frankenstein Mary Shelley?”

Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him just because he knew the author of a popular book. Still, you didn’t know how many men even knew a woman wrote one of the most iconic stories of all time. Still, your father and closest woman you had to a mother in years were watching you, so you settled on shoving him.

“That’s right; maybe you’re not that stupid.” Before he could verbally respond, you were almost out the door. “I got something for you guys, be right back!”

You felt like a little girl again as you ran through the halls and up the stairs into the infirmary room before taking the shittly wrapped presents off your bed. You slid down the main staircase railing before barging back into the dining hall where it looked like barely anything had changed.

“What was my time?” You asked your father, a huge smile on your face.

He gave a look. “You didn’t ask us to time you.”

“Happy Christmas.” You handed him his gift, then repeated the same action and sentiment to Mary.

Your father was the first one to open his, and a pleasant smile spread upon his face while holding it up to you; a coloring book of ancient Rome.

“How’d you know I wanted this?” He joked. He had perhaps almost every single book on Roman history, so you had to get creative.

You shrugged. “Oh, you wouldn’t stop talking about it, remember?”

Mary opened hers next, grinning from ear to ear once it was unwrapped. A pink pocket-sized prayer book. “How’d you know I lost mine?”

“Because you told me.”

She hugged you, pinching your cheek when she pulled away. “You’re an angel.”

“Oh, Angus,” Your father took the forgotten envelope out from under the tree, handing it to the boy beside you. “this came in the mail for you.”

He opened it, and glancing over his arm, you saw cash stuffed inside of the card with “Greetings of the Season and Best Wishes for a Happy New Year” printed inside, with the only written words being: “Love, Mom and Stanley.” Not any personalized notes or words of adoration anywhere to be found.

You wanted to squeeze his hand, give him any traditional sense of comfort; yet you weren’t ready to explain to your father and mother figure about the both of you…you weren’t dating, but you were something. So, instead, you merely pushed yourself against his side and acted annoying.

“Fuck, you’re loaded.” Mary scoldingly said your name, but you continued. “Well, he is! Yeesh, you should be paying off my father’s retirement if you hate him that much.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Emma Woodhouse.” You father rolled his eyes.

Angus, fortunately, snorted. “I’ll think about it.”

“Alright,” Mary placed her hands on her hips. “now who’s hungry?”

As usual, the four of you had a lovely breakfast; although, this time, per Christmas tradition, you each had a little piece of chocolate with your pancakes she made. When helping her with the dishes, you saw that only one Christmas cookie you left out the night prior had remained.

When the dishes were done, you and Mary pulled the men into the teacher’s lounge.

“So why are we being held against out will?” Angus joked.

Your father sighed. “It’s almost ten-thirty.”

“And?”

“Charlie Brown!” You cheered, plopping yourself down on the carpet in front of the TV to turn it on.

“It’s the one tradition we have each Christmas,” your father explained and lowered his voice to Angus and Mary. “and one I wouldn’t mind getting rid of.”

“If you want to go drink alone while reading Agatha Christie, go ahead.” You announced, not turning to look at him as you flipped through the channels.

Mary and Angus merely laughed, and you proudly sat down on the couch. Your father mumbled incoherently, but before he could take a seat beside you, Mary grabbed his arm.

“Now, now, come help me make popcorn for the movie.”

Sighing, he let her lead him out of the teacher’s lounge and into the kitchen. Angus soon sat where your father would’ve if not for Mary. You smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He grinned, and there was silence (as always) between the two of you. One that was broken with. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head. “What for?”

“Just…” He laughed. “for liking me I guess. Also, for what you said about the stupid card and everything.”

Smiling, you glanced up to see if your father and Mary were close by. When you determined they weren’t, you took his face into your hands and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, dumbass.” You pulled away, looking back at the movie as little children start to sing Christmas Time is Here. “Just don’t bitch for the rest of the day.”

He snorted. “I’ll try my best.”

And he did. The four of you watched the movie, and after that, you and Angus went back up to the infirmary and spent the rest of the afternoon reading. Definitely not kissing at all; for sure not.

When you weren’t reading, you were either talking about stupid shit-.

“I thought I heard somewhere that plants can feel pain, do you think that’s true?” You asked, looking up at him while you laid at the end of his bed, your feet by his head.

“…I just want to thank you for letting me peek inside your mind and to see how weird it is.”

Or, surprisingly emotional conversations.

Angus nodded as he laid on the bed, you at his side. “Yeah, I mean…I had a good childhood, it just felt…weird sometimes.”

“I get it.” You rested your head on his shoulder as you both stared at the ceiling.

Still, it was perhaps the longest and most intimate interaction you ever had with a person up until then. How strange it was with a boy you hated only days ago.

Hours later, Mary called you both down for supper (luckily what was reheated from the previous night), and despite there only being four of you, you felt less lonely than when you had at the party. You sat beside Mary, not minding when the smoke of her cigarette tickled your nose.

“Thank you Mary,” your father smiled at her once he was finished. “that was just lovely.”

“Oh, is that an actual compliment?” You never heard Mary sound so surprised. He sighed heavily, and you didn’t bother holding back your laughter.

Angus set down his silverware. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real family Christmas like this. Christmas dinner, I mean, family style, out of the oven, all the trimmings. My mom always just orders in from Delmonico’s.”

Mary nodded. “She’s got the right idea. Next year, I’m ordering from Delmonico’s.”

“Anyway, thank you, Mary.”

She winked at him, then turned to you. “Well? You got something to say?”

You squinted your eyes mid-chew. After swallowing, you replied with. “The meat’s a bit raw, don’t you think?”

“Oh, none of that today!” She scolded you as everyone else giggled. “Ungrateful child on Christmas.”

“It’s great, Mary.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Your father rose a glass. “I’d like to propose a toast. To my two unlikely companions on this snowy island, to my lovely daughter, and to our absent friends and family.” There was a pause much obviously for your mother and Curtis as if they were at the table with you. “I realize that none of us is here because he or she wants to be, so if there’s anything I can do to make the holidays a little cheerier for any of you, just say the word.”

“Copenhagen.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Try again next year, Josephine.”

Angus shrugged. “Boston.”

“Boston?” Your father wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“Why not? I want a real Christmas. I want to go ice skating. I want to see a real Christmas tree with ornaments, not that stupid thing.”

That was what you couldn’t take (as a joke, obviously). “How dare you. You put some respect on that tree my father grew with his blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids.”

Whilst the adults groaned your name in disgust, Angus stared down at his plate, his body trembling with repressed laughter.

“You both said it was nice.” Your father reencountered.

“It is nice.” Mary defended.

Angus, after recovering from his amusement, continued. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Let’s have a real holiday.”

Your father huffed. “We’re not going to Boston. It’s out of the question.”

“You just told the kids ‘anything’. So, if Copenhagen doesn’t work, then why not Boston?” Mary argued.

“Mary, we’re not allowed to leave campus or the immediate environs.”

Well, it was your moment to shine. Now, here’s the trick: Usually, the ‘puppy dog eyes’ only work on parents from the ages of birth to nine. Sometimes, but not in your case, it can go on longer into the early 30s (that is, if your parents are total pushovers, or you’re a master manipulator). So, what do you do instead? Well, if it’s with your father, you do this:

Glance at him one last time as if to make a final plea, but then act as if you already know the answer and look down as if you’re trying not to show your sadness. You cannot be angry at all, just sad and disappointed so that he can assume you’re judging all of his life choices that he had made previously to lead him to this.

…It’s not easy, but it certainly gets you what you want (…there was like a 76% success rate last time you calculated it).

“But,” your father sighed upon looking at you and Angus. “I suppose we could call it a field trip. A field trip would fall under the ambit of additional academic pursuits. There’s even a fund set aside for additional academic pursuits.”

Despite him looking annoyed, you had a feeling deep down, he wouldn’t mind getting out of Barton. Angus gleefully rose out of his chair.

“I’ll go pack!”

You knew you couldn’t chase after him excitedly, so instead, you focused on your father.

“Now wait a minute,” you scowled. “so you not only listened but also let him persuade you into having us go to Boston, but you didn’t even bother with Copenhagen? That’s really sexist of you.”

He sighed, exhaustedly saying your name. “You’re a smart girl, so you should know that there’s a difference between a ten-hour flight across the world, and a-!” Of course he stopped when he saw your shit eating grin. “…and you’re a smart girl because you played me like a fiddle.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, papa!”

He waved you off with a smile as you gathered up your dishes and glass, then went into the kitchen and placing them in the sink. You dashed up the stairs to the infirmary, to which you were greeted by Angus’ arms entrapping you.

Laughing, you reciprocated. “Why’re you like this?”

“I’m just happy, is that so shocking?”

“Yes.”

He pulled away only to then cup your cheeks in his hands and bring your lips to his. You sigh into his mouth, kissing him back.

“Does it ever stop?” You asked between kisses.

“What?” He led you to lie on the bed.

“You kissing me all the time."

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” You meekly threatened, pulling him back down.

Neither of you started packing for another fifteen minutes; not until you heard your father’s footsteps in the hallway.

You surprised yourself by how well you slept that night. Usually, before an exciting day, you are restless. Yet, you actually jumped out of bed to get ready once your father came in to wake you up.

After a quick breakfast and an hour of waiting, the four of you were in the car on the way to Boston. A curse that you never thought possible is that you could not read in the car without throwing up; so, that forced Angus to read aloud (something that wasn’t a curse).

“‘That boy is a perfect Cyclops, isn’t he?’ said Amy.”

“That’s not what Amy sounds like.” You said matter of factly, laying almost flat in the backseat.

Angus sighed. “Well, she does today.”

“Mr. Tully,” your father looked in the rearview mirror. “is she implying that Amy usually sounds different?”

You grinned. “Yes I am.”

“Oh?” Mary arched her brow in interest.

“I’m not doing a voice.” Angus immediately retaliated.

Sighing dramatically, you stuck your bottom lip out. “Just this one line? Please?”

He stared at you as if you had him under a spell; either that, or your face was a monstrosity so terrible he couldn’t look away. It’s nice to think the first one. So, breathing heavily through his nose, he pitched his voice up.

“‘That boy ith a perfect thyclops, ithn’t he?’ said Amy.”

Needless to say, the car erupted into laughter.

You can’t quite remember what else was discussed between the four of you on that long drive. All you can recall is that you never once felt sorrow or pain from your mother’s absence. It was…lovely actually.

Soon, the car stopped outside Peggy Lamb’s triple decker apartment in Roxbury neighborhood. You hadn’t been there since you were thirteen for Thanksgiving. When, after your mother passed, Mary and Curtis invited both you and your father to dinner for the holiday. Then, just all of a sudden (much like Miss Crane’s Christmas parties), you stopped going.

“Here we are.” Mary announced.

“That’s an awful lot of stairs…” Your father trailed off.

“Probably icy too…”

Nope, not going to give your kissing buddy (what was Angus Tully to you? What were you to him?) a clue.

“Mr. Tully.”

“Right.” He nodded once he finally took the hint from your dad. He smiled. “Mary, can I help you with your bags?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled, and Angus got out of the car.

You leaned against Mary’s seat. “Mary, may I help you with your bags.”

“You may.”

You heard your father prod at just why you would want to go into the cold air and help Angus carry the bags but paid him no mind. You did though when it was Angus who asked.

“What’re you doing out here?” He popped the trunk.

“Mary asked me to help too.” You pulled out the large suitcase with all your strength. “She knew your noodle arms couldn’t handle it all.”

Scoffing, he took the hatbox and closed the trunk. “Seems like you’re handling it perfectly.”

“Of course, I am.” You did your best to hide the ache in your arms already forming as you led the way.

Mary, with her window rolled down, stopped you at the foot of the stairs. “Hey, why’s she carrying the suitcase?”

“She said she could handle it.” Angus replied.

“That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“Yeah, Angus.” You taunted as if him only carrying the box was his idea.

This was certainly not the first nor the last time you’d make his jaw drop from your wittiness. Sighing, he held out his hand for the suitcase, and you traded it for the hatbox.

“And be careful with the box,” Mary called your name. “Knowing you, you’ll drop it.”

You just stuck your tongue out playfully and continued up the stairs, Angus lugging the suitcase. “What do you think she packed in here, rocks?”

“I’d tell you, but you’d make a joke about how much women need to pack even though ‘We’re only here for a few days’.” You said in an accent that any man with low self-esteem would deem offensive.

He scoffed, stopping on the first floor. “Yeah, maybe.”

You tutted. “Ah, ah, ah, one more floor up.”

“What?”

“Peggy lives on the top floor.”

Angus sighed all the air that was left in his body before taking a deep breath. “I should’ve let you carry the damn bag.”

“But ya didn’t.” You smirked, leading him, once again, up the stairs.

When you both finally got to the top, you didn’t even need to knock on the door before Peggy and her husband came out to greet you.

“Oh, my goodness!” Peggy wrapped her arms around you once you set the box down. “It’s been too long.”

You laughed, hugging her back. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

She pulled away, but still holding your arms. “Never apologize, honey. And who’s this with you?”

Obviously, she was looking at the scraggly, 6’1 white boy behind you. Still, smiling, you introduced him.

“Angus; he goes to school at Barton and has been spending the holidays with us.”

“Aw,” Peggy shook his hand. “it’s nice to meet you.”

He nodded, grinning. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So,” she looked at you. “where’s that sister of mine?”

You tilted your head over ledge, and she and her husband walked over, waving and calling Mary’s name. Peggy turned back to you.

“Well, it’s been great seeing you again. If you ever need anything, you’re always welcome here.”

You nodded, smiling unwavering. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a Happy New Year.”

She repeated the pleasantries and hugged you one final time before you and Angus started descending the stairs. When you passed by Mary, wishing her goodbye, she stopped you.

“Not yet, now you’ve gotta help me up there.”

“Oh yeah,” Angus offered her his arm. “sure thing.”

You resisted. “I already said hi to Peggy, am I excused?”

“I guess so.” She sighed as if you annoyed her.

Happy with her answer, you hugged her tightly and rushed into the front seat of the car, enjoying the warmth. In the corner of your eye, you saw your father arch his.

“You and Mr. Tully seem to be getting along finally.”

Glancing over, you nodded. “Yeah. He’s still a bit of an ass, but he’s not so bad.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Time.” You shrugged, hoping your years of (somewhat) lying paid off. “I guess forcing us together for a week in the cold really helps.”

He hummed, turning back to look at the front as if there was anything eye-catching about the road. Thankfully, it didn’t take Angus that long to walk Mary up the stairs, and he was soon in the back of the car.

Your father drove into the city centre of Boston, and parked outside of the hotel you three would be staying at. Of course, you had a room all to yourself (although, you only had a single bed and not a twin, but you were happy nonetheless).

After twenty minutes of getting situated, the three of you went out to explore the city (a city the three of you had been to multiple times but was still just as beautiful as the first day you saw it). You went through more parks you could count, streets that almost all looked the same but still something unique about each of them; it was just nice enough to walk and talk with your companions.

“Alright,” your father lit his pipe after the three of you had lunch. “it’s about one-thirty right now, what’s one thing everyone want to do today?”

“I have two things.” You said.

“One for now, Josephine.”

“Brattle’s Books.”

“Very good, even though you already have too many. Mr. Tully, what about you?”

He shrugged. “Just ice skating, honestly.”

“Wow.” your father released his breath. “I must say, I am impressed with how simple both your suggestions are.”

“What do you wanna do?” You asked.

“The Museum of Fine Arts, of course.” He began walking. You and Angus sighed as if it was the worst convenience in the world. Your father defended. “Oh, quit your bellyaching, both of you! This is still technically a field trip. Okay, what’s the second thing you want to do?” He asked you.

“A milkshake and fries.”

“That’s it?” He wrinkled his nose. “That disgusting concoction, is it?”

“Yes, and it’s not disgusting, you’re just a picky eater.”

Angus chimed in. “It doesn’t sound that appealing.”

“Who asked you?” You questioned.

Your argument ended there as the three of you made the journey to Brattle’s Book Store. Just as you did in the car, you talked about nothing and everything at the same time; perhaps that’s why those little moments of transitioning matter the most to you.

When you made it to Brattle’s, you spent a little time inside the actual store, but more of it outside in the large empty space between the two buildings. It was like it was another floor on the old bookstore, several upon several shelves hugging the walls, and smaller ones creating aisles on the floor.

You primarily were by yourself, keeping a mental list of more books to buy for later, and lose yourself quickly in between the pages and old smell of them. You hadn’t even noticed it’d begun to snow until Angus was beside you.

“So, you’re telling me it couldn’t have snowed all the times we were indoors?” He joked.

You looked up. “Of course not, God’s angry at us.”

“Why?”

Smirking, you nudged him. “Kissing outside of wedlock.”

“The worst of all sins.” He played along.

“Above heresy, even.”

“Hi there handsome,” a woman’s voice penetrated the air. “got a cigarette?”

Neither of you wanted to turn around to see who she was talking to (or acknowledge her if she was talking to Angus). So, communicating with just one look, you stayed put.

“No, sorry. I smoke a pipe.”

Well, so much for staying still. At the sound of your father’s answer, both you and Angus turned slowly. A woman with red hair tied up in a messy bun wearing the ugliest shade of yellow and a raggedy fur coat graced your presence.

“How about a date, then?” She tried again. “You want a date?”

“No thank you.” He took the pipe out, smiling nervously.

“Oh, come on, let’s go somewhere warm!”

“Go ahead.” Angus teased. “We can wait here.”

Jaw on the floor, you couldn’t even say anything at first.

“See?” The woman stuck her hands in her pockets. “They can wait here, read some books. They don’t mind if daddy gets a little candy cane.”

“Thank you, but I never really liked candy canes.” Your father picked up a book. “Plus, I’m prediabetic.”

She scowled, and turned over her shoulder, leaving. Angus leaned over the bookshelf in between the two of you and your father.

“You know, if you do want a little candy cane, I won’t tell anyone.”

You swatted him, finally. “Stop trying to pimp out my father, you…you…”

“What?” He grinned from ear to ear. “What am I?”

“Papa, cover your ears.” You looked at him.

“Mister Tully,” he said instead. “for most people, sex is ninety-nine percent friction and one percent good-will. Call me old fashioned, but I place value on physical intimacy, and so should you two.”

“I never-!”

“-You know,” Angus interrupted. “if it wasn’t for your kid in front of me right now, I would’ve thought you never had sex.”

Again, you stroke him; this time, enough to leave a bruise.

“Ow!” He cradled his arm.

“You know,” you used his words. “if it wasn’t for your mom sending you to private school, I would’ve thought you were a cheap, common whore.”

Instead of scolding you, your father laughed. It’s not as if he never did, it was always just...a rarity and almost a blessing to hear him be so carefree.

“Mr. Tully, cover my daughter’s ears, would you?”

Angus followed through and you let him.

“Believe it or not,” your father continued. “there was a time when the fire in my loins burned white hot.”

“You’re full of shit.” Angus snickered.

“No, the details would curl your toes.”

“Okay, then let’s hear.”

He shook his head. “Whatever happened between my wife and I is none of your business; especially our daughter’s.”

“She can’t hear anything.”

“Yes, I can.”

His hands left your ears, leading both men to laugh. Nothing more was (thankfully) said about your father and mother’s sex life. It was after another ten minutes outside when your father announced it was time to go; not before having to use the bookstore’s bathroom. So, that left you and Agnus by yourselves for the first time since arriving.

“You’re horrible.” You playfully kicked his feet.

“You hit me!”

“You deserved it. God, you’re such a man.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, with a smile, he reached into his coat pocket and brought something out. In his hands, he held a somewhat worn copy of The Little Prince, and two different colored ribbons.

Freezing where you stood, you could only stare at them. “What’s this?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Looking up at him, your parted lips couldn’t form words to express just the…surprise of it all. So, Angus continued.

“I bought it; the book at least. I found it inside, asked your dad for the money so I could get it for you, and that was it. The-the ribbons, I got one that was your favorite color, but then I remembered my mom would talk about how there’s some colors that look better in a girl’s hair, so I got one I thought-.”

You threw your arms around Angus and held him so close to you people would think you were using him for warmth. He froze at first before immediately melting into your embrace. You brought his face down to yours, kissing the tip of his nose before pulling away and taking the gifts into your hands.

“Holy shit…you’re too sweet.” You giggled, flipping through the book.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you like it?”

“I love it, you idiot.”

“And if you find the book at your house when you go back-.”

“-I’ll keep this one too.” you cut him off. “You’re thoughtful, you know that?”

Angus stuck his hands in his pockets, kicking the snow at his feet. “It’s nothing.”

“Fuck you, it’s everything.”

“Well,” he shrugged, smiling. “since you said it so eloquently.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful grin, then held up the colored ribbon he deemed (and was correct about) would look good in your hair. “Can you put this one on, please?”

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat. “sure.”

You handed it to him, turning around. It wasn’t the first time he put his hands in your hair, but this time, with your back to him, it felt strange. Strange in a good way, but perhaps there wasn’t anything sensual about it, it felt that way.

And it was nice.

The feeling of it anyway; other than that, he had no idea what he was doing.

“What do you want it as?” He asked.

“Half-up, half-down.” You took a hair tie off your wrist, holding it our for him.

“What?”

“Like, instead of an actual ponytail, just make the top of my hair one, and leave the rest down.”

You didn’t even have to look at this man to know there was nothing going on inside his head trying to figure out what the hell you just said.

Thankfully, your father came out of the store.

“And what’s going on here?”

Angus looked over his shoulder. “I uh…”

“Step aside please, Mr. Tully.”

He did, and your father snatched the hair tie you were holding. “Half-up, half-down?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded.

“Do you know how to braid hair, Angus?” He asked, tying the hair tie around the ponytail he made.

“No.”

He hummed disapprovingly, sliding the ribbon into the hair tie and beginning to make a bow. “You should; it’s quite an important skill for a man.”

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader #paul hunham #mary lamb #Youtube

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thisismeracing · 9 months

Text

Lay all your love on me | DR3 (patreon exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader ― Warning: graphic description of unprotected sex, p in v, thigh riding, kind of public sex (boat sex), mentions of a wedding, food, and drink. Minors DNI! (2.1k words) ― Summary: When Daniel asked you to marry him you knew your wedding would be perfect, you just didn’t expect your fiancée to rent a whole island a week before the wedding to enjoy the off days with you until you finally tied the knot. Safe to say you made good use of all the private land and boat rides.

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“Where are you going?”

“Just for a dip,” you breathe, craning your neck to kiss his stubbled jaw.

“You’re not dressed for a swim, love,” Daniel murmurs against your skin, trapping your earlobe between his teeth and sucking lightly.

You press yourself harder against him, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours, his warmth even more intense under the scalding sun. “Who said one has to be dressed for a swim?” you question, and he turns his mouth to your shoulders, kissing away the straps of your nightgown. “You rented the whole beach, the whole Island,” you add. “So I’m enjoying its perks.”

“Are you?”

You nod, turning to him and smashing your lips into a hungry kiss. One of his hands holds your neck while the other keeps your body pressed to his, but not for long because the second your lips detach you’re taking a step back and pushing your clothes off. It’s hot, even though the wind is rustling, but your body shivers under the exposure from his eyes and the breeze. Your nipples turn to two pointer pebbles attracting your fiancé’s hungry gaze, and you giggle again, loving the comfort of feeling loved and desired under his gaze. There was no shame in showing the dips and curves of your body to him. A body he had worshiped just hours before in the privacy of your suite.

“Why would you tease me like that?”

“Because I can,” you smirk, turning and running to the water, shrinking when the cold waves hit your body.

*********

“The sunscreen,” you try, but Daniel shakes his head, throwing the bottle somewhere into the boat.

“Later,” he hums, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

When his fingers swiftly find the strings of your bikini, undoing the knot and setting your boobs free, you can’t help but grind harder against his shaft. Daniel moves your body in a way that you’re on top of his tattooed thigh and you quickly take off your bikini bottoms, bunching up his white shorts and whimpering the second he flexes his legs and it hits you right in the clit.

He sits, bringing your body impossibly closer and you lace your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to gain leverage in your movements. Daniel uses his mouth to lick, bite, kiss, and nip your skin. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find your nipples and you sink your nails into his back, throwing your head and letting out a string of profanities.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this sneak peek! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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impala-dreamer · 11 months

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Try It On

A Supernaturally Adorable Story

~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,850 Words

Warnings: It's... Fluffy, Banter-y, Cute, Sexy, Kissy, Fun

A/N: This is for my free space for @jacklesversebingo ! And... special thanks to @deanwinchesterswitch for helping make the awesome art and showing me how to be better at that in general :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The thing you have to understand about the Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon is that- it’s huge. Well, huge isn’t really the right word. It would be more accurate to describe it as massive- and deceptively so. Not only does it reach down two stories into the earth, but it’s also full of twists and turns and magic. Hallways seem to stretch on forever, lined with horizontal black tiles that trick the eye into believing there’s a dead-end where instead there’s a turn. There are forks in the road that elicit directional anxiety, staircases that lead nowhere, and hidden doorways that if taken, can lead to a random spot in the Bunker that seemed accessible only from the outside.

Once, Y/N had slipped through a small door in the Mechanical Room that she thought was a closet, only to end up standing behind the giant telescope in the Library.

Door numbers played games with her, multiplying and changing. Rooms appeared and disappeared, moved seemingly by magic, or perhaps only in her mind. It was impossible to navigate too far from the main areas without a map, or at the very least, her cell in hand should she accidentally get stuck somewhere new.

As far as Sam knew, there was only one map of the Bunker - the original blueprints to be exact - and the more he studied it, the more he realized that most of the underground lair was not included in the plans.

Life in the Bunker was nice. The cavernous rooms seemed to echo the quiet in a comforting way and although it was usually a little chilly, it was nice to be able to snuggle up in a big sweater or cuddle down in a blanket while reading in the Library. It was easy to find yourself with alone time, and even easier to sneak around in the shadows, finding fun ways to keep occupied while the monsters plotted beyond the big doors.

Those fun ways generally involved some kind of chase between Y/N and Dean which usually, if not always, ended with a trail of flannel leading into either’s bedroom. ‘Sex Tag’, Dean had dubbed it, though Y/N liked to pretend they were a tad less obvious and called it simply, ‘Hide and Seek’.

Last Thursday, one such game was in play. Y/N was the aggressor this time, quickly stalking Dean through the tunnels, her socked feet silent yet slippery on the highly polished tile floor. She raced around corners with a hand on the wall for stability and still almost always wiped out. Around such a turn, she caught a break as Dean, obviously somewhere nearby, let out a breathy laugh.

She spun to her left and spotted him halfway down the right hallway, leaning casually against the tiles. His bare ankles were crossed and off to the side, his arms were folded across his chest, navy Henley stretching sinfully over his biceps. His chin was low and he looked up with a devilish smirk, letting her know that despite having given away his location, he had no intention of letting her catch him yet.

“Caught you,” she announced, taking a short step towards him. She set her hands on her hips and stared him down.

Dean licked his lips and bit back a smile, forcing the tiny dimples above his mouth to pop. “Uh, you ain’t caught me yet…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really gonna make me come all the way over there?”

In one slick motion, Dean pushed himself away from the wall and dragged a hand back through his short hair. He peered over at her, green eyes dark with temptation. “Only if you wanna win.”

Y/N clicked her tongue, daring him to move. “I found you- that’s usually enough to garner a win.”

He turned to face her full on, bowed legs spread shoulder-width apart. He let his arms hang down as if he were at ease, but she knew he was ready to bolt.

“Usually,” he agreed.

“But not today?”

He sucked his teeth and shook his head slowly. “Not today.”

Y/N took a step toward him. “No?”

Long fingers tensed against worn denim. “No. Today it’s a tag or nothing.”

She took another step and Dean’s jaw twitched.

“So, if I grab your ass,” she asked, “I win?”

Plump lips curled on one side. “If you can catch me, sure.”

She took a deep breath.

He mirrored.

She held in the air and took a step.

He lingered, daring, teasing.

On her exhale, Y/N pushed off on her right foot and broke into a run, her arms pumping, thighs straining to pick up speed while simultaneously fighting to stay upright on the slippery ground.

Dean waited exactly seven seconds before retreating. He spun on the spot; the balls of his bare feet squeaking gently on the tiles as he took off. The first few yards he dashed at full speed, just to put some space between himself and the huntress, but after a peek over his shoulder, he slowed, shifting into first gear. It wasn’t a Sex Tag if she didn’t eventually catch him, after all.

Y/N’s heart was pounding, skin heating up, muscles thrumming with adrenaline. Once close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his neck, she reached out and grabbed blindly for him, catching the collar of his shirt and tugging hard.

Dean gasped at the sudden pull and his arms shot out at his sides, balancing even as Y/N jerked him backwards. She slipped as they both came to a screeching halt, and Dean caught her just before she hit the floor, surely saving her from a bruise or two.

Out of breath and victorious, Y/N straightened up and pushed at his chest, slamming him back into the wall. “Gotcha!”

He lifted his chin above her forearm and made a play of being pinned even though they both knew he could slip away without much effort.

“Still haven’t won yet,” he informed her.

Y/N huffed and reached an arm around him, grabbing his left ass cheek hard.

Dean held in a yelp.

“How ‘bout now?”

He grinned, drew his bottom lip in between his front teeth. “I fold.”

“Thought you might.”

To seal the deal, Y/N pushed up on her toes and kissed him hard. The arm barring his chest dropped and Dean wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer and spinning so she was against the wall.

His tongue slid across her lips and her hands slipped down his chest. He bucked his hips against her and she moaned through the kiss. Her fingers bunched up around his stomach, grabbing at the navy fabric, wanting him closer.

He shivered and trailed his lips across her cheek, dropped a kiss by her ear, let out a heavy breath that prickled her skin.

“Want you,” he growled, rocking into her once more. “Now.”

Delicate fingers tucked up beneath his shirt and scraped down his belly. Y/N drew a finger across his hip bone and looked up at him, teeth snagged, eyes glazed beneath batting lashes.

“Right here.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dean pushed himself up, set his hand on the wall beside her, stared down with a shy grin. “Yeah?”

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged. “Yeah. Right here.”

Green eyes went wide and freckled cheeks blushed. Hesitantly, he dropped his right hand to her breast and felt for her nipple through the layers of fabric.

Y/N arched her back against the wall, pushing her chest out and moaning loudly.

The echo scared him and Dean looked cautiously over his shoulders.

“What? Afraid your brother’s lurking?” she teased.

He huffed out a sarcastic laugh but looked back again, certain they’d be caught. “Yeah… OK, maybe a little.”

Y/N held his gaze and snapped her fingers over his jeans, popping the brass button open. He hissed as her hand snuck down inside; the zipper easing open to give her more room.

“Someday,” she whispered, drawing his attention closer as she traced his quickly stiffening cock with her thumb. “I’ll get you to indulge my public sex fantasy…”

His eyes went wide when she cupped his dick in her warm hand. “Fuck!”

Quickly but reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and reached for the doorknob on her left. The lock was in place and he issued an annoyed huff.

Y/N watched as he fumbled with the door across the way - also locked - and then cleared her throat.

“We can just go back to my place,” she offered. “Though, I’m not quite sure how to get back there…”

Dean was already on the next door. “No, no. We’re gonna… just… find a spot to hide in… and- yes!” The fourth door he tried opened and he waved Y/N over.

She followed through the portal and nearly stumbled into him as the darkness devoured them both.

Just a bit scared, Y/N spun around as Dean shut the door. “A little light would be nice!”

“Workin’ on it!”

She took a step backward and hit an unexpectedly soft barrier. She turned, feeling with cautious hands, a wall of hanging fabrics. Confused, she reached higher and felt a metal rod and plastic hangers.

“Is this…”

Dean found his way to the switch and two hanging lights flipped on.

“... a closet-” Y/N’s excitement grew when her eyes adjusted. “What… on earth…”

Dean hummed curiously. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we were over here.”

Y/N took a look around. “Where exactly is here?”

“South of the kitchen,” he replied. “Or east. I can’t remember.”

She was awed.

It was a bedroom, or at least, used to be. The layout was familiar. The standard full bed with its ugly green blanket was there, as was the writing desk and the random sink against the front wall. Everything was the same except for the massive collection of costumes. The perimeter was lined with bulging clothing racks and boxes filled with shoes. Hats of all varieties hung on nails hammered into the plaster walls and ties in just about every shade of blue and red were neatly displayed on a hanging rack by the door.

With an amused smile growing on her lips, Y/N ran her hands over the shirts on the left side of the room and plucked a brightly colored Hawiian shirt from the rack. She turned, holding it up for Dean to see.

“This yours?” She held in a laugh.

He clicked his tongue and grabbed at the hanger, pulling it away. “Hey. I like this shirt.”

“It’s… loud.”

He glared. “It’s a disguise, OK?” Carefully, he put the flowered button-down back in its place. “They all are.”

“Not a very subtle one,” she joked, shaking her head as she flipped through the rack. “Oh my…”

Next, she pulled free a leather jacket and caressed it gently. “Now this- I like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes as she shrugged on the quilted leather. “Of course you do. Chicks dig guys in leather.”

Y/N fit her arms into the long sleeves and popped the collar up around her neck. “Whatcha think?” She posed for him and Dean stood back, checking her out.

“Very hot. You got a real… Rizzo vibe goin’ on.”

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip his way. “Yeah? You gonna mark me up, Kenickie?”

Dean whistled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You better believe it…”

Y/N chewed her lip and took a step, ready to attack him. Before she could get the momentum, a dirty mustard-colored sleeve grabbed her attention and she shifted course.

“Is that?” She tugged the costume from the rack and held it up to look it over. “When were you a fireman?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know- years ago.”

“And you kept the outfit?”

He shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”

She narrowed her eyes curiously and leaned in, taking a sniff of the coat. It was musty but unburned. “Why?”

Something stirred inside and Dean felt suddenly like he had to defend himself from her scrutiny, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out why. His answer came out in a stumble of letters that tried to climb over and inside each other.

“It’s not- don’t- you just- who- I don’t know!” In a snit, he grabbed the suit and shoved it back in its place. “Do you have to touch everything?”

Y/N held her amusement inside. “Yes. Yes I do.”

Twirling around him, she jumped up and tipped a tan Stetson from its hook. It fell onto his head easily and Y/N nodded in approval.

“Awesome.”

Dean inhaled deeply, pushing down his annoyance even as his cheeks burned. “Yeah, yeah… go on. Make fun of me.”

“Oh, I will never make fun of Cowboy Dean.”

He looked up at her from under the brim and she winked, soothing his hurt.

Feeling guilty, Y/N sashayed up to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. “I think it’s cool that you kept all this.”

His brows creased. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. Even cooler that you got to wear it all. I’ve only ever gone undercover as a Fed. This is…” She paused and looked around the room. Lab coats and police uniforms and bright orange construction vest looked back at her. “This is cool.”

Dean softened and fit his arm around her waist, hand flat on the small of her back. “You were a doctor once, if I remember…”

“A lab tech,” she corrected, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest.

He nodded. “Ah, right. I remember you in that white coat… and that tiny skirt that barely covered your-”

“Hey!”

She slapped him and he lunged for her, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. Wrapping her fingers around the open collar of his shirt, Y/N tugged him closer, licked into his mouth, hummed at the sugary taste of him. A late breakfast of black coffee and a powdered donut lingered on his tongue.

His eyes were closed when she pulled back, his pouty lips puckered and searching for more. She laughed.

“Know what’d be super hot?” she whispered, walking her fingers up to loop around the nape of his neck.

Dean set his hands on her hips, thumbs cutting circles in the soft flesh beneath her shirt. “What’s that?”

She spun away again and waltzed to the other side of the room, plucking a disguise from the rack at random. Without looking, she tossed it at Dean who caught it before the hanger poked his eye out.

“Wear it for me,” she said, desire dripping from her lips.

“You’re crazy,” he laughed.

Y/N pouted and fluttered her eyes at him. “Come on, Dean… try it on.”

Intrigued, he examined the outfit she’d chosen. It was the pale blue shirt and dark slacks of a navy uniform, complete with white Dixie Cup hat.

“You’re serious.”

She nodded. “I am.”

He fiddled with the buttons. “Yeah… I’m not doin’ that.”

“Come on, baby… put on a show for me…”

He felt a twinge in his gut and blood rushed to his cock. He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have a seat…”

Stetson returned safely to its hook, Dean rearranged the rack by the door so he could hide behind it as he changed. The move wasn’t out of modesty, as there wasn’t much privacy left between them, but purely for the game.

Y/N appreciated the little touch and set herself up on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for the show to begin. From the corner of her eye, she spied a cardboard box on the floor with a glinting bit of chrome inside.

The chrome trimmed out the edges of an old yet professional looking camera and Y/N held in a delighted laugh. Stealing it, she set herself up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, fingers learning the buttons. By the time Dean was ready, so was she.

Dean cleared his throat and lifted his voice up over the dividing rack. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Y/N bit her lip and closed one eye, looking through the lens finder with the other. “Ready, Commander!”

With much dramatic flare, Dean whipped around the rack and appeared in all his naval glory. Gone was his soft Henley and loose, old jeans, replaced by the tight slacks and tucked-in button down shirt. The cap sat tilted on his skull and his eyes bright; playful yet shy.

“Actually, Miss,” he corrected, “that’s Ensign Winchester.”

“You demoted yourself,” she laughed. “Fun.”

Before he could snap back with something clever, a snap disturbed him.

So engrossed in his own costume, Dean hadn’t noticed the long, black camera lens pointed at him.

She snapped a quick shot, then another.

“Perfect…” Two more in quick succession. “Give us a twirl, will ya?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Dean struggled to cover himself by grabbing a gray phone operator’s jumpsuit from the rack.

Y/N whistled. “Oh, yes! That one next!”

Dean scoffed. “In your dreams.” He heard another click of the camera and ripped the cap from his head. “Quit it, will ya?”

“Nope. This is great stuff. Very sexy.”

He groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”

Pouting, she dropped the camera onto the bed and leaned back on her arms, hands barely sinking into the ancient mattress. “Oh, come on…”

Looking up, he found her playfully sad and couldn’t resist the puckered frown of her pretty lips or the fake tears brewing in her beautiful eyes.

He sighed heavily and let the jumpsuit fall to the floor in a heap of cheap polyester. “Fine.”

Arms out, he took a step into the middle of the room and did a quick spin, showing off how tightly the pants hugged his cute little ass.

Y/N grinned and held in a hungry moan. “That’s it, Ensign. Back that thang up.”

Rolling his eyes, he gave her a little shake and then walked away, returning to his sanctuary behind the rack.

“What’s next?” she asked, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings.

“Nothing.”

“You’re no fun…”

He was glad the clothing was hiding his smile. Of course he was going to model for her. He’d do just about anything she asked, apparently including, playing dress up on a random Thursday afternoon.

He cleared the smile from his throat and turned up the gruff. “Hold your horses!”

Y/N hid a laugh. “Oh, is there a full cowboy outfit I should know about?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “There is. But dream on.”

“I sure will…”

Fabric rustled and the rack shook a little.

Y/N toyed with the zoom. “Where’s this camera from, anyway? There’s still film in it.”

“Sam sometimes pulls that out when we do the journalist cover. I think he just likes playing with big, long things.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably. Though, I don’t think he needs to compensate for anything.”

Startled, Dean’s head popped up over the rack and he glared at her.

“Nevermind…” She batted her lashes and away his concern.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Show me something sexy,” she urged, wiggling on the bed to get comfortable.

“Sexy, huh?” He adjusted his sleeves and took a breath. “How’s this for sexy?”

Around the corner came Mr. Winchester in a dark brown uniform with matching pants and shirt, black belt and a shiny badge over his heart.

She was confused. “UPS driver?”

He scoffed and smoothed out the shirt. “Park Ranger!” Turning, he showed off the patch on his right shoulder. “Love this one. I look good in brown.”

Y/N snapped a few pictures but ultimately vetoed the outfit. “No one looks good in head-to-toe brown.”

Dean scowled and slunk off to change yet again.

Next, a white bit of plastic was fit around his throat and his hair was quickly parted on the side, raked through by thick fingers. The black clerics of a priest were intriguing, but Y/N felt funny kissing a holy man, so she quickly pushed Father Dean away.

A set of green surgeon scrubs were documented but waved away, as were two ill-fitting lab coats of varying lengths, although Y/N thought to sneak a stethoscope away for later.

When Dean revealed what he thought would seal the deal, he was met with nothing but such roaring laughter as to give Y/N a coughing fit.

“What? My legs are sexy!”

Y/N tried to calm herself, but the sight of Dean in tiny red gym shorts and sweat bands around his forehead and wrists was simply too much for her to take.

“When- what- where-” She nearly choked and fell back against the mattress, shielding her gaze from the costume.

With a devastated sigh, Dean turned and ripped the white polo from his back. “Ya know, I was a damned good gym teacher that week!”

“Flag on the play, babe,” she wheezed.

“Fine!” Defeated, he threw his hands up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”

Y/N took a calming breath and scooted to the foot of the bed. “I don’t know…”

“Then I can’t give it to you!”

“Hey! Don’t yell at me. We’re just fooling around.”

He hissed. “I wanna be fooling around, that’s the point.”

“Well, then show me something I can’t resist,” she encouraged. “Find me that one outfit that turns my gears so tight they’ll snap.”

“That’s… not how gears work…”

Eyes rolled hard; teeth were sucked. “Just… you know what I mean.”

“Fine.”

Hangers were shifted about, cheap fabrics were rumpled and tossed aside.

After much foot tapping and debating, Dean made a selection at random and prepared to wave the white flag.

One foot out from behind the rack, however, he knew he had chosen wisely.

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the lens slowly lowered. Her eyes went wide and she felt her skin flush.

“Oh. Oh my…”

Curious, Dean stepped closer and opened his arms. “Really?”

Mouth watering and heart beating hard, Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I have no idea why, but that’s it.”

His brows creased. He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Really.”

Y/N licked her lips and nodded. The heat drained from her cheeks and headed downwards, traveling like his gaze over her breasts and settling between her thighs. “Really.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Don’t care,” she said quickly, standing up and reaching for him. “Get over here, professor.”

Her fingertips grazed over the thick, beige wool of his cable knit sweater, hooked around the big, wooden buttons and tugged him close.

Dean’s eyes lit up with lustful wonder.

“Actually, I was a child psychologist in this thing-”

Another tug on the bulky cardigan had him stumbling down onto the bed with her. “I don’t care. Just fuck me…”

Dean licked his lips and ghosted his fingers over the soft leather hiding her body from him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

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#dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #fluff #dean x reader #jacklesversebingo23

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acewritesfics · 11 months

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I Believe You Dropped Something, Mr Shelby | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: Mentions reader is from London.

Word Count: 1,707

Tommy Shelby Masterlist

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. YOU CAN FIND THE ORIGINAL POST STILL FLOATING AROUND ON TUMBLR SOMEWHERE. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Y/N leaves her new flat and begins the walk to a pub she overheard a few men discussing, determining she needed to go out for a few hours. She'd been unpacking her belongings for three days. She was delighted to discover The Garrison was only a block away from where she currently resides.

The noise of the patrons inside quietens as she enters the drinking establishment. All eyes are on her as she saunters towards the bar. She tries to ignore the stares as much as she can. The bar is full of locals, and she isn't one of them.

"Could I please have a whiskey?" she asks, her London brogue heavy.

"Scotch or Irish?" the bartender says, moving away from her as he pulls a glass from the shelf.

"Irish." She responds and glances around the pub as he pours her drink. Most people have stopped staring at her, but a few are still glancing at her, some lusty, others puzzled and intrigued.

"You're not from around here, are ya love?" the bartender asks, placing the glass of whisky in front of her.

"What gave it away?" she replies, smiling pleasantly at him.

"First and foremost, you have a lovely face, far too pretty for this place." He enlightens her.

However, she does not agree with him. "I'm sure there are a lot of women around here with pretty faces and I'm sure they are much prettier than mine."

"Not as elegant as you," he says as he looks her up and down.

"You said first and foremost," she responds to his remarks with interest. "I'm interested in hearing your other observations."

"Your accent certainly distinguishes you from the other women here. You don't just look fancy; you sound it too," He goes on. "Also, the ambience you exude."

"My ambience?" She lifts her brow, having never heard that one before.

"You have a poshness about ya."

She lets out a low chuckle and extends her hand towards him, "Y/N L/N, from London."

"Harry Fenton, born and bred in Birmingham." He extends his hand to hers. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss L/N."

"Mr Fenton, please call me Y/N. I'm not as formal as you may think." She tells him.

"As long as you call me as Harry, Love." He proposes reaching an agreement with her.

The two converse for another hour, Y/N ordering another two glasses of whiskey until three men saunter into the pub like they own it, the ruckus from the other guests quickly dying down. Y/N's watches the three men as they make their way to a room off to the side of the bar. A chill goes down her spine as her E/C eyes connect with a set of vivid blue ones looking back at her. She knows she should look elsewhere right away, but she can't bring herself to do so feeling as though she's drowning in his eyes.

"Would you mind getting us a bottle of whiskey, Harry?" The man talks as he goes to pass through the entrance of the private room, the older and younger men already inside.

Her eyes widen slightly in surprise. She wasn't expecting his voice's smooth silky tone to be as alluring as his eyes and sounding as handsome as his face looks.

"On the house, Mr. Shelby," Harry replies, his tone shifting from one of delight to one of trepidation in a matter of seconds. It's enough to divert Y/N's attention away from the mystery man with the lovely but cold eyes.

Hearing the door close, she turns to face Harry, whose cheery grin has faded. "Who exactly are they?"

"Peaky Blinders," he says quickly, taking a bottle from the shelf and heading to the private room. He returns a few minutes later, his mood worse than when he stepped inside the room.

Despite knowing she'll regret it once it's done, she can't suppress the curiosity building inside her and asks anyway, "Who exactly are the Peaky Blinders?"

"It's best you not know," he asserts.

"I'm going to need to know since this is now my home."

"All you need to know, Love, is keep out of their way and they'll stay out of yours," He cautions.

Deep down, she got the feeling that, that would be easier said than done.

The city girl heeded Harry's warning for the following three weeks. She socialises with a couple of the locals in the pub and befriending her new neighbours. They weren't as hesitant as Harry to tell her all about the Shelby Brothers, what they stood for and how they dealt with things around Small Heath. There is Arthur - the oldest and most chaotic of the three, John - the youngest and best looking, according to the many women around town, of the three, and then there's Thomas, Tommy Shelby - the one in the middle who didn't hesitate to take over the family business when he needed to, pushing his older brother from leader to right-hand man. The more Y/N learns about the Shelby Brothers, the more she heeds Harry's warning, which she repeats whenever one of the Shelbys is mentioned or seen.

But just while she's paying attention to the warning, it didn't stop her from making eye contact with Tommy, his gaze constantly sending a cold chill her spine, but she still couldn't bring herself to look away. She gets a feeling there is more to Thomas Shelby behind his cold, hard, and beautiful blue eyes. He intimidated her while also captivating her.

Walking into the Garrison on a Tuesday night was a little odd for Y/N. She normally stayed at home on Tuesday evenings to go through the weekly newspaper job ads before going out on Wednesdays to apply for any job she had expertise with. She's been turned down everywhere she's gone so far. But there is one place she has yet to try.

"Good evening, Y/N," Harry cheerfully greets the young woman. Since the first night she stepped into the Garrison, Harry and Y/N have grown close. In some ways, he's taken her under his wing, teaching her everything she needs to know about Small Heath and supporting her as she settles in to her new surroundings.

"Good evening, Harry," she returns his greeting with her own, and looks around the bar, waving hello to the few people she gotten to know. "Quiet night tonight?"

"It's a bit on the quiet side," Harry says, taking a glass and a bottle of Irish whiskey off the shelf and pouring her a drink. He never needs to ask because she always orders the same drink.

"Can I ask you a question?" She enquires, a little anxiously.

"You already did, Love, but go ahead," He teases her a little but encourages her to continue.

"How desperate are you for a new barmaid?" She asks him.

"If you're going to recommend I hire you, you can think again," He frowns at her. He has no intention of hiring a woman like her to work at his pub. Sure her pretty face would attract the customers but a majority of the drunk men would only cause trouble for the young lady.

"I know a majority of your regulars, I get along with them just fine, I've proven I can handle drunken men, and I know how to pour a drink," she claims.

Harry looks at her as if he's still not convinced. He would never allow his daughter to work in a place where there is alcohol and rowdy men whose only way to escape the war is to drink themselves to death, and he would not let a lady who is quickly becoming like a daughter to him work in one either.

"Please, Harry," she begs quietly. "No one else will hire me, but if you do, I'll be eternally grateful, and you can quit fretting about not having any help."

Her words are breaking him down as she continues to list all the reasons why the middle-aged bartender should hire her. It doesn't take long for him to succumb to the young beauty's charms.

"Alright! You can start tonight but on a trial basis. You'll remain here till midnight. If everything goes well, we can talk about a payment schedule tomorrow."

She smiles at the bartender, pleased.

"What are you waiting for?" He exclaims, unable to disguise his smile as he hurls a smock at her. "Put on the apron, get back here, and start pouring some drinks."

She follows his orders and begins taking orders. When she has a minute to spare, he pulls her to the side and reminds her of the Shelby Brothers rule, speaking it as if it was a law. "Remember, when the Shelbys arrive, all their drinks are on the house."

"Do the Shelbys ever pay for anything?" She asks, and quickly regrets it when a voice other than Harry's answers her.

"When we feel like it," On the other side of the bar, Thomas Shelby stands in front of her.

Y/N's cheeks heat with embarrassment. She was unaware that Tommy had entered the pub. Her entire body is frozen to the spot, and she is speechless as her eyes are locked on his icy blue gaze. He smirks to himself, enjoying the effect he appears to have on this woman he's never spoken to before now.

For a brief period, Tommy's gaze shifts to Harry. Y/N diverts her attention by wiping the small spill on the bar top, then moves to the shelf containing the bottles of alcohol, where she discovers her voice. "What would you like, Mr. Shelby?"

"Whiskey, Irish," He tells her.

She gets the bottle from the shelf and brings it over to him with some glasses, while avoiding eye contact. "It's on the house, Mr. Shelby."

"Thank you, Miss L/N." He smirks, causing her head to snap up to meet his gaze, her eyes as wide as saucers. She hadn't expected him to know her name. He says nothing further, his smirk staying as he places some money on the bar before heading to the private room.

"I believe you dropped something, Mr. Shelby," Her voice stops him.

He smirks again, "Keep it, it's not mine."

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#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader

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thornybubbles · 1 year

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Playing Minecraft with the Stardust Crusaders

**Note: Originally I was going to have this be a story with just Kakyoin, but I decided to add the rest of the Stardust Crusaders. Also I decided to just do headcanons instead of writing a full story. I’ve been writing a lot of dark yandere stuff and I just wanted a break. So here’s something wholesome. PS. Polnareff’s part was my favorite to write. XD **

Joseph

He may be an old man, but he’s not completely out of touch when it comes to the concept of video games. It takes him a little bit to learn how to play, but once he gets the hang of it, there’s no stopping him. Joseph’s building skills are pretty basic. He’s more interested in the survival and exploration elements of Minecraft. Once he gets his house built, he does a little mining to get a full set of iron armor, weapons, and tools and then he’s off to explore. He’s almost never seen around the main base and spends most of his time many, many blocks away, discovering cool things. He will often ask questions about things he’s unfamiliar with and you explain it to him. Sometimes he hardly speaks at all because he’s too enamored with all the stuff he’s discovering.

Then there was the “Creeper Incident”. Joseph made the mistake of doing some exploring at night instead of going to sleep like a good little Minecrafter.

“Hey, what’s this freaky green thing?” he asked you.

“Freaky green thing? What kind of freaky green thing?” you said, wanting some specifics.

“It looks like a depressed cactus,” he explained.

Uh oh.

“Oh! That’s a cr---!”

There was a distant explosion followed by Joseph screaming, “Oh my God! Son of a bitch!!!”

After that, something changed in Joseph’s play style. He went from explorer to monster hunter. Angry at having been blown up and losing all his stuff, he goes on a vendetta to destroy all creepers. And why stop there? Zombies, spiders,skeletons or any other creature of the night that crosses his path were quickly dealt with. He goes deep into learning brewing, armor and weapon enchanting, and anything else he can think of to give him an edge against the hostile mobs. With Avdol’s help he builds a battle tower and protective wall around the base. He has very big dreams about taking out the Ender Dragon.

Joseph is a bit of a jack of all trades when it comes to Minecraft. He may not be the best builder but he has a lot of creative ideas that help all of you with whatever projects you might be working on, especially when it comes to base defense and monster fighting.

Jotaro

He only ever plays when either you or one of the other Crusaders asks him to. When he first spawned in he wasn’t too impressed. He had a hard time figuring out what he wanted to do. At first, he doesn’t bother building a house or anything and just bums around his grandpa’s house. He makes a snide comment about how Joseph’s house is just a big, wooden block with one window and a door. Joseph grumbles something about how his house didn’t need to be pretty, just practical. Joseph ends up being the one to teach Jotaro how to play, while you occasionally interject to mention something Joseph may have forgotten about. Jotaro just responds with non-committal grunts and wanders around the base, checking things out.

Eventually, he goes off on his own to explore and find somewhere nearby to build a house. He hasn’t collected any resources, has no tools, or crafted a weapon of any kind when he starts exploring. You try to warn him that he should at least get a wooden sword to defend himself with, but he ignores you. It isn’t until night comes and he is nearly killed by zombies that he finally decides to get some wood and stone and make some basic tools. He still hasn’t found a decent place to build yet, though.

After he’s wandered around for about 4 in-game days, he comes across a village. Jotaro watches the villagers run around, doing their thing, and is bemused at their silly appearance and sounds. But when nighttime comes and zombies start attacking them, Jotaro feels he’s found his purpose in the game. Somebody has to protect these dumb looking guys and it may as well be him. He teams up with Avdol and Joseph (who is a little miffed that someone found a village before he did) to form a “Village Security Team”. While Avdol fixes the village up by patching holes in walkways, correcting poorly spawned buildings, and starting work on building a monster proof wall around the village, Jotaro and Joseph stay up at night to fight off the monsters.

Eventually, Jotaro builds a massive fortress near the village and Avdol attaches the wall to it. This fortress serves as Jotaro’s home and the village becomes the secondary base for you guys. Joseph jokingly calls him “King JoJo” and “Your Highness” which usually has Jotaro grumbling under his breath. He spends most of his days decorating or improving either the fortress or the village itself. When he’s not doing that, he’s usually tagging along on one of his Grandfather’s adventures.

Kakyoin

The redstone wizard of the group. Noriaki’s beaten the game a few times already, but only recently started messing around with redstone contraptions. He set up an automated farm that both harvests and replants crops as well as a huge mineshaft with minecarts set up so that they returned to the surface to be unloaded whenever players filled them up with resources.

As innovative as he is, though, he often uses his redstone skills to be an absolute troll. And usually, his victim is you. That’s not to say that he hasn’t pranked any of the others yet, it’s just that you’re his favorite target. It’s kinda your fault though. It started back when you first started playing Minecraft together and you might have, possibly, sorta, kinda, completely un-accidentally pilfered a diamond or two from one of his chests. He knew you were the culprit because there wasn’t anyone else in the game at the time but the two of you. He didn’t call you out on it, though, assuming that you would replace the diamonds as soon as you got a chance. You never did. While you actually did have every intention of returning the diamonds to him, you just forgot about it. It didn’t help that you later developed a habit of helping yourself to whatever you found in his chests instead of going out and getting the resources for yourself. Hey, it was easier and it saved time!

Nori never said a word about it, instead opting to quietly plan his revenge. One day you went down into his storage basement to grab some cobblestone from one of his chests. You were only going to grab a stack or two and make a mental note (for the hundredth time) to replace whatever you took, but knowing that you’d probably forget. When you opened the chest, though, you didn’t find any cobblestone. Instead you found yourself staring into the sullen face of a creeper, its warning hiss in your ears. You let out a shriek of terror and braced yourself for the inevitable explosion, but it never came. You examined the “creeper” again only to see that it was nothing more than an armor stand wearing a creeper head and green dyed leather armor. It was inside of a minecart that was cleverly hidden behind the chest. You just stared at it as your brain slowly came to the conclusion that you’d just been pranked.

“Ah, I see you found my theft deterrent.” Noriaki said, amusement clear in his voice. “It’s a nifty little project I found online called the ‘creeper in a box’ prank.”

You can’t even say anything. He got you good and you know it. You made it a point to stay out of his storage basement from then on.

It doesn’t stop there though. That one little incident unleashed Noriaki’s inner troll and you’re the one who gets to suffer for it. From filling your house with dirt blocks to slowly rearranging your decorations over time to see how long it would take for you to notice, Noriaki just seems to love messing with you. You have to admit that while his pranks are annoying, they are pretty funny and too clever for you to really get mad at. Your “favorite” was when he hid a bunch of note blocks under your house and arranged them to play a certain song when you opened the front door.

“Nori, why is my house Rick Rolling me?” you demand of him, annoyed but admittedly amused.

“Why are you asking me?” he says, playing dumb.

He knows what he did.

You eventually do give him his diamonds back in hopes that will appease him. It does… for a little while at least.

Avdol

The master builder. Before being invited to play Minecraft with you guys, he’d never really played a video game before. But there was something about the building mechanics of the game that awakened something within him, possibly nostalgia for those calm times with building blocks when he was a little kid. Whatever the case, Avdol takes to building like a pro and all without any YouTube tutorials, too. You want a medieval style bakery? You got one. Want a modern bungalow? He’ll do it. Giant fire breathing demon chicken to put in the middle of the base? You can envision the weird looks he wants to give you, but he’ll make one of those, no problem. His best projects are the ones he does on his own, though, with no guidance and with minimal suggestions.

Due to his building skills, he finds himself constantly busy within the game as someone always has some kind of building project they want help with. He even offered to improve Joseph’s plain block house. The old man told him to do whatever he pleased and then went off to go treasure hunting with Jotaro and Kakyoin. When Joseph came back he found his simple home had been converted into a deceptively cute cabin. While Joseph was impressed enough with how cozy it looked, Avdol revealed that the cabin had a secret, a well hidden secret chamber that appealed to Joseph's inner superhero fanboy. He had his very own secret lair now (yeah, it’s not really a secret if everybody on the server knows about it, but let the old man dream)!

Over time, Avdol has added things here and there to the base to keep things from looking so plain. He’s added a decorated pond for fishing and just a place to hang out. There’s also a meeting area for when the whole gang gets together right before going on an adventure (brings back bittersweet memories. At least this time there’s no danger of anyone actually dying.).

And yes, he even added that giant fire breathing demon chicken statue you wanted so badly. Your odd tastes aside, Avdol managed to make the abomination of a statue look rather cool and stylized. Kakyoin wants it to be the mascot for your group. It ends up being put on any and all banners for the base, much to Avdol’s chagrin.

Every time he gets online with you guys he is either working on a project or starting another one. He never seems to run out of things to do. Surprisingly, his own home is rather quaint. Just a regular old farm house, but it’s very pretty. And yes, he has a chicken farm.

Polnareff

Chaos incarnate. This man got into the game and immediately started doing everything WRONG! Digging straight down, forgetting to sleep at least once to ward off phantoms, forgetting to crouch when standing at the edge of great heights, you name it he’s messed it up. So basically just Polnareff being Polnareff. He always manages to find danger or danger finds him. Every monster in the area seems to target him specifically. On one mining trip you actually watched around five zombies shamble right past you and head straight for a very startled Polnareff. They completely ignored you! He’s died so many times that you actually put in the “keep inventory” cheat so that at the very least he stops losing all of his hard earned resources.

Speaking of resources, when it comes to mining it’s the one thing that Jean Pierre is really, really lucky at. To the point that it makes everyone else jealous. He was the first to find diamonds and emeralds and the first to manage to get full stacks of both. You never even thought it possible to find 64 emeralds naturally, but Polnareff managed to pull it off. Joseph is quick to accuse him of cheating which results in a very childish argument between the two until you step in and explain that you were with Polnareff the whole time and he just finds diamonds and emeralds by chance. Joseph apologizes but grumbles when Polnareff laughs. Ever since then, whenever he comes across diamonds, or anything even remotely interesting, he is very obnoxious about it.

“HEY GUYS!!! GUESS WHO FOUND EVEN MORE DIAMONDS?!!” he’ll shout in an annoying sing-song voice.

This usually results in annoyed huffs from Avdol and Kakyoin, disgruntled “Good griefs” from Jotaro, not-so-humble requests for him to stop bragging like an asshole from Joseph, and a threat or two from you that if he didn’t stop rubbing your faces in it, you would shove him into the nearest lava pit. This always earns a mischievous giggle or two from him. He’s so full of himself about it. He does make up for it though, when he crafts full sets of diamond armor for you all. For all his arrogant bragging, he’s really rather generous with his finds. If any of you need diamonds or emeralds he’s the first to offer up his stash. After all, he has so many, why shouldn’t he share? ~ ❤

Whenever he goes mining, you usually tag along. You say that it’s so you can help him carry his loot, but actually it’s because you’re his self appointed babysitter. Just like in real life, it just isn’t a good idea for him to run off by himself. You never say that out loud though because you know how sensitive he is about being danger-prone. Besides he likes having you along and the two of you end up as mining buddies almost every time you play. Sometimes Kakyoin joins you as he’s always in need of redstone and other materials for his contraptions (it’s important to note that Polnareff is Kakyoin’s second favorite trolling victim and it always makes you nervous whenever he tags along because you never know if he’s up to something or just genuinely wants to collect resources.).

Whenever you and Polnareff go off on your own to do anything, the rest of the Crusaders server prepares their poor ears for the inevitable screaming and swearing that will follow. Something happens to you whenever you pair up with Polnareff. Your brain power seems to get cut in half and the two of you end up becoming an unintentional comedy duo that has everyone else either laughing or, in Jotaro’s case, muting you for being “too damn loud”.

There was one time that Polnereff was digging a strip mine that ended up leading right into the Deep Dark and the Warden’s territory. You can probably guess what happened. Before you could warn him, Polnareff’s antics end up summoning the Warden and the monster kills you both before either of you have a chance to panic. This results in Polnareff seeking revenge (or trying to) and going all the way back to the Deep Dark to fight the Warden again (and dragging you along each time), and (both of you) dying again. This happens about three more times before he actually manages to defeat the Warden only to find out that he doesn’t get any kind of reward for it (other than bragging rights, which believe me, he takes advantage of).

On a minor note, Polnareff’s inventory is always extremely unorganized. Whether referring to his personal inventory or his storage chests his inventory is in shambles. There’s no rhyme or reason for where he places things in his hotbar and sometimes he’ll end up hitting monsters with a stick or block of glass rather than his sword. He also has a bad habit of using the wrong tool for certain jobs, such as using his pickaxe on dirt instead of his shovel and it drives more organized players like Kakyoin and Avdol insane.

BONUS:

Iggy

(We’re assuming that the little gremlin lives with you) While he can’t exactly play video games for obvious reasons, he does kinda like watching you play, but that’s only if he’s not trying to take a nap (you’re kinda noisy). Most of the time he just plops down in his comfy spot and watches you struggle to survive in what he mentally calls the “stupid human block game”. He is really amused whenever you and Polnareff team up because watching you two together is comedy gold. Sometimes, when you’re playing alone, he’ll wait for you to be exploring a dark, creepy cave and suddenly bark very loudly for no reason, causing you to very nearly jump out of your skin.

Iggy: “BARK!”

You scream, swear, and jump back so hard that your headset falls off. Your mouse has been practically thrown across the room. You turn around and glare at the little brat.

“IGGY!” you shout accusingly.

The cheeky little doggo runs out of the room making sounds that can be interpreted as the canine equivalent of snickering.

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