Riverdale Smut and Fluff

Mob Sweet pea (smut) part 1

Sweet Pea slammed your body hard against the wall, your legs tight around his waist as your lips assaulted each others. No matter how much time passed it was always the same. You were nothing to him but a warm body, a pretty face that could please any of his carnal needs. In his line of work Sweet Pea couldn't afford to have any serious attachments and over time you understood that- Mafia Gangs were no place for love. True, some of the members had wives or husbands, but those spouses were part of the darker world Sweet Pea ran, they understood the danger and demons that followed.

It wasn't that Sweet Pea didn't care for you, because in his own twisted way he did, it had to do more with the fact that he couldn't care for you. He had made that mistake already in the past to care for someone and then watch as the cruel world he belonged to ripped them away, as she slipped away like sand falling through slotted fingers.

Your skin was hot under his mouth that sucked at the base of your throat, his fingertips yanking the straps of your dress down and digging into flesh at the same time as you moaned in pleasure. You never thought that you would meet a man at a shitty bar for a one night stand that lasted for four months- you never thought you'd meet a man when was a mafia boss and still keep coming back, no matter the danger. It was simple: when he needed something to help him relieve stress he called you. When you were bored or drunk or in the area you would send him a text and then, usually, meet later on for a few rounds of hot, much needed, rough, unattached sex.

However, as the saying goes, 'good things can't last forever.' Four months is a long time to be with someone. And no matter how many times you reminded yourself that it was only 'casual sex', that yearning for something a little more had crossed your mind. It would flutter across in the small, rare moments that you and Sweet Pea shared that had nothing to do with sex.

Sweet Pea made a throaty sound as your nails raked across his broad shoulders, your chest pressed up to his as his hands massaged your ass harshly, your lips never ceasing in the fight with his. Sweet Pea made sure you were secured on his hips before moving down the dark hallway of his home, holding you close, towards his bedroom where he planned to lay waste on your body that he worshiped like a temple.

It was moments like that, that made you wonder if you could ever be anything more than a fuck buddy to the tall, mysterious, sometimes cold stranger that you shared your body with.

Sweet Pea was a little drunk at the moment, you could taste the gin on his tongue, and you mewled as his hot body left yours for a moment so he could throw you onto his giant king size. Sweet Pea was always a little rougher when he drank, not that you minded, but you could always tell that something was off about him in those moments. In the four months you had known each other, you both picked up on little things that made it feel like you really knew each other.

You knew that Sweet Pea rarely drank unless something was wrong or stressing him out, the same way he never smoked unless he really felt like he needed to. He never slept with the covers over his chest or a pillow under his head. He liked his coffee with cream but no sugar. He hated getting up early but always rose just as dawn broke. He hated cuddling but on rare occasions he would throw his arm across your stomach or cradle it under your head and let you sleep on his shoulder. They were little things that not many people knew, but you couldn't build something off virtually nothing.

Sweet Pea stood at the end of his bed as you laid propped up on your elbows, your eyes wide and your lips swollen red from kissing. You drank in the man before you, your body reacting on its own as your tongue swiped across your lips and your knees spread just a little.

Sweet Pea looked like a bronzed God with his olive skin and deep eyes, his muscular frame tight and flexed as he discarded his black slacks and his ruined, button-less shirt you had ripped open in haste. Sweet Pea held the fabric in his hands a moment, his eyes gleaming something feral as he smirked wickedly.