#feelings and thoughts..... got me some feelings and thoughts tonight lads

[lushrue]

dinner party (nsfw)

ghoap x fem!reader

cw: oral (m and f receiving), dubcon (sort of?), voyeurism, dom ghost

it was supposed to be a normal dinner party.

by all accounts, it had been up to this point. it wasn’t unusual for your husband to invite the men he worked with over for dinner, especially johnny. the man lives alone, he’d said, least I can do is give ‘em a nice home-cooked meal every once in a while. you always pulled out the stops, cooking something bordering on gourmet that the mess halls couldn’t even hope to replicate. tonight, it had been grilled salmon with wild rice and roasted asparagus.

conversation over dinner was normal, aided by the wine and whiskey loosening everyone’s lips. you’re far more sociable than simon is, but that doesn't take much, so the alcohol kept the words flowing freely. it wasn’t until after dinner that things started to shift.

the three of you settled in the living room with your respective spirits, wrapping up the night with friendly conversation over light dessert. you moved to your usual spot in the armchair beside the bookshelf, but the sound of simon clicking his tongue at you stopped you in your tracks. he was sat in his own chair nearest the sofa, legs spread like a king on his throne. you couldn’t quite keep your eyes from wandering, admiring the way his jeans clung to his thighs. he met your gaze, the corner of his lips quirked up in a mischievous smirk. he patted his thigh and you felt embarrassment burn your cheeks.

you glanced over to johnny, as if to remind simon that you had company, but he didn’t seem to care. his dark eyes stayed fixed on you, silence falling over the room as johnny’s gaze followed his lieutenant’s. simon cocked his head, a gesture that you recognized as obey or else. you didn’t feel like testing the waters tonight, so you padded over to him, perching yourself on his thigh.

your husband’s arm snaked around your waist as you swirled your wine in your glass, staring at the whirlpool it created to distract you from the way johnny was eyeing you. simon had pulled you onto his lap for a reason, and part of you wondered if it wasn’t entirely selfish motivation that had you positioned here. simon’s hand stroked over the crushed velvet of the dress he’d insisted you wear, sliding down to grip your ass occasionally when you got too fidgety.

conversation gradually turned to their work, so you tuned them out. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested; most of it just flew over your head. it gave you time to focus on the way your husband was feeling you up. his hand never stayed in one place too long, sliding from your shoulder to your spine to the nape of your neck and down. it made shivers run down your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs the longer it continued. despite your squirming, you managed to stay ladylike, a metaphorical aspirin between your knees as the two men talked.

“so, how’s y’r sex life?” simon asked, which snapped you back to attention. johnny seemed just as bewildered as you did at the question, his cheeks flushed scarlet beneath the stubble. you nudged simon’s shoulder, shaking your head at him. “simon, that’s not polite,” you said, but he didn’t pay you any mind. he was too busy watching johnny fluster and scramble to find his words. “l.t., I-” he started, but simon held up a hand to stop him. “nah, don’ play dumb with me, lad. heard ya jus’ the other day in the rec room. talkin’ about how ya haven’t had a good shag in months, somethin’ like tha’.”

you were just as embarrassed as johnny was now. you knew simon wasn’t the most tactful of men, but this was a whole other level. johnny stuttered around his words, trying to find some kind of reply that was appropriate for the situation. nothing would be appropriate for this situation, you thought. simon just chuckled, his hand rubbing the plush cheek of your ass. “look how flustered ‘e is, lovie,” he said to you, finally giving you his full attention. “poor man, doesn’ have a good bird like I do. no one to cook ‘im a nice dinner and keep ‘is cock wet.”

as flustered as you were, the words sent a jolt straight to your core. taking care of your husband was a sense of pride for you. you got a primal satisfaction out of sinking to your knees and sucking him dry after he’d had a hard day. it meant the world to you when his shoulders sagged and released the burden that he’d been carrying, all at your hands. you shifted on his lap, pressing your thighs together to get some relieving friction.

simon looked back at johnny, who seemed just as affected. he had his hands clasped over his lap, his gaze cast down at the throw rug like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “ya wanna know wha’ it’s like, sergeant?” simon asked, his voice dropping into a register only you got to hear. “wanna feel my sweet, pretty dove wrapped aroun’ ya?” johnny jolted like he’d been shocked with a prod, wide blue eyes looking up at his commanding officer. there was bewilderment there, you noticed. clearly, he hadn’t been expecting this. but behind the surprise, there was something more carnal. he looked hungry, like a mutt begging for scraps from the table.

your husband placed a firm hand on your back, taking the wine glass from your hands and coaxing you to stand. “g’won, lovie. on your knees for our bashful lad, hmm?” simon’s choice of words struck you. our. this was for both of you, not just simon. the two of you had discussed the idea of a threesome once, but it felt like a pipe dream then. you’d expressed interest, never really expecting simon to share but confessing your fantasy all the same. and now, here it was. Happening.

you did as you were told, kneeling in front of the sofa where johnny was. from this angle, you could see how harshly his chest was rising and falling, his breath quick and uncertain. it brought you a strange sense of satisfaction that you could fluster a special ops soldier so easily. you sat there expectantly, but johnny didn’t move. he just stared at you, almost the same way he’d stared at his dinner plate before digging in. his eyes traced the contours of your body, over your shoulders and down to your full chest, over your breasts and down to the plush of your stomach and thighs where they pressed against your dress.

“starin’ won’ make ‘er cum, johnny,” simon quipped. you drew in a sharp breath, glancing back over your shoulder at your husband. he clicked his tongue again, motioning back towards johnny. “ah-ah, keep your eyes on ‘im, precious. he needs y’r attention more’n I do.” you looked back up at johnny dutifully, your lips parting slightly as you waited for him to do something, anything. the fabric of the rug was biting into your knees, making you a tad uncomfortable. “she’s yer wife, simon, I cannae jus’-” “you can an’ you will,” simon interrupted. “the only way she gets any pleasure tonigh’ is by your hand, an’ I don’t let my wife go to bed unsatisfied.” you let out a whine at that, the stakes so much higher now that you knew the terms. johnny just had to touch you.

“steamin’ jesus,” the Scot cursed under his breath, your whine sending a spark of pleasure between his legs. he’d never heard a woman make that sound before, especially not at the prospect of being pleased by him. “i can touch ‘er?” he asked, but he didn’t look at simon for an answer. his stare was more intense, sizing you up, deciding which piece of you would be most juicy to sink his teeth into. simon hummed in amusement. “unless y’r bloody telekinetic, s’pose ya have to, don’ ya?” simon responded, shifting in his chair. you heard the zipper of his jeans go down and it was almost painful that you couldn’t look at him.

johnny reached forward, taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he stroked his thumb along your jaw, shuddering on his exhale. “y’r so soft,” he breathed out, marvelling at the beauty of you on your knees. you lean your head into his touch, following the pulls and pushes of his hand as he inspects you. “such a bonnie bird,” he cooed, spreading his legs and pulling you in closer to him. you shuffle forward, settling yourself more squarely between his knees.

“simon says ya suck cock like a dream. is he righ’?” johnny asked. you nod, leaning forward to mouth at his crotch through his jeans. you could feel how hard he was already from barely having touched you. instead of focusing on the fact that simon was going around blabbing about your blowjob skills, you chose to take in as much of johnny’s musk as you could through his pants. you couldn’t quite smell him, but there was the barest hint of his body wash peeking through.

simon had started stroking himself to the sight of both of you, the wet shlick reaching your ears and emboldening you. knowing that your husband was enjoying this ignited a fire that started in your core and spread through your veins. johnny got the same motivation, locking eyes with simon for only a moment before shoving his jeans and boxers down. you gasp at the suddenness of it, placing your hands on his bare thighs to steady yourself. before you can fully get your bearings, johnny grabs the back of your head and shoves you down.

he’s not as long as simon, but he’s certainly thicker. he fills your mouth almost instantly, your cheeks aching a little with the stretch. you and johnny moan in unison, your eyes fluttering shut as johnny’s hand balls up in your hair. simon chuckles behind you, his hand tightening around himself. “tha’s it, lad. fuck ‘er mouth good, she likes it a bit rough.”

johnny’s hips start thrusting, the ruddy tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. tears bead up in the corners of your eyes, whimpers and moans giving johnny some vibration as he fucks your throat. you applauded yourself for the decision not to wear mascara; cleaning the tears and spit from your face would be difficult enough. saliva dribbled down johnny’s length, wetting your lips as you hollowed your cheeks. the salt of him coated your tongue, precum leaking down your throat. above you, johnny was grunting and groaning like a rutting bull, thrusting into your mouth with abandon. “how’s my girl feel, johnny?” simon asked, his voice sounding strained. hearing just how affected they both were had your pussy dripping with arousal. “fuck, si, she’s…ah, so warm. fuckin’ milkin’ me.”

your tongue traced the protruding vein on the underside of johnny’s cock, delighting in the shudder you earned from him. it didn’t take long after that for him to finish down your throat. you swallowed every drop, taking in everything he offered. he was more bitter than simon, but you enjoyed it all the same. you pulled your mouth off of johnny’s cock with a wet pop, peeking up at him with heavy lidded eyes. the man you saw was not the man who’d sat across from you at dinner. he looked downright feral, grabbing you like a man possessed. he pulled you up from the floor, laying you out on the sofa and tugging your underwear down.

before johnny tossed them away, he held them to his nose, drinking in the smell of you. he groaned, balling the fabric up in his fists. “y’r bird smells like heav’n, l.t.,” he rasped, dropping the panties and fixing his wild gaze back on you. “bet she tastes even better.” without any further warning, he dipped his head between your thighs, thick tongue lapping up the moisture from your cunt. you squealed in surprise, throwing your head back against the cushions. simon bit back a curse behind his hand, watching his best friend devour his wife like his last meal. the mere thought was enough to make him spill all over his hand and stomach, his release silent so as not to distract johnny.

you didn’t think anything could. your thighs clamped around his head to keep him in place, but it was hardly necessary. even the rapture couldn’t pull him away from your pussy and the nectar that dripped from it. as much as you enjoyed the feeling, johnny wasn’t as coordinated as simon was. his tongue was wild, moving for his pleasure rather than yours. 

you twitched and moaned when he would happen to graze your clit, hoping that he’d get the hint, but he never did. there was no technique, no purpose. johnny came up for air, hazy eyes meeting yours. he was pussy-drunk, your juices shining on his lips and chin. he nosed at the inside of your plush thigh, sinking his teeth into the fat there. it stung and your back arched, reaching down to push his head away. the sting wasn’t pleasurable, not compared to his tongue against your cunt.

the moment simon caught the resistance from you, he was on his feet, yanking johnny back by his mohawk. the Scot gasped, back arching as simon held his hair tight in his fist. “easy, mutt,” simon growled in johnny’s ear, pushing his head down to look at you. “tha’s my girl, and y’r gonna treat ‘er with the respect she deserves. not some blushin’ virgin tha’s never had a woman, are ya?” johnny huffed, taking the question as an insult to his manhood. “‘course not,” he said, voice tense and strained. simon shook johnny’s head, then released his hair. “didn’ think so. remember y’r place, treat ‘er right.”

the scolding from simon had leveled johnny, forced him to slow down and think with his brain and not his cock. you twitched and whined as he paid more attention to your aching clit, swollen and puffy with desire. your hips bucked against your will, pressing against johnny’s tongue harder. 

finally, his tongue pushed inside you, caressing your walls. you clenched around him, tension building in your lower stomach. “don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, chest heaving. simon appeared at your side, stroking your hair. his gaze was soft, admiring, a welcome contrast to johnny’s. “cum on his tongue, love. he’s been waitin’ for it, not gonna stop ‘til he gets it.” those words were all it took to push you over the edge, shuddering and whining as johnny licked you through your orgasm.

you felt floaty after, the pleasure of having your husband’s best friend eat you out while your husband watched going straight to your head. there were cooed praises and kisses to your cheeks, but you weren’t entirely sure who they came from. hushed words were exchanged at your feet, then johnny was zipping himself up and kissing you goodbye. simon wrapped you in your favorite fuzzy blanket, the gentle sway of his gait soothing you as he carried you to the bedroom. once he’d laid you on the bed, he started to leave, but your soft hum and hand on his arm stopped him. “si? can we do that again?” you asked, voice soft and wrecked.

simon just chuckled, brushing your hair away from your face. “don’ you worry, lovie. he’s comin’ back for dinner next week.”

[bcneheaded]

ok but what if artemis chose the name artemis after he got out of hell and started on his rampage not because he was being spiteful to the gods.... though he will very much say that's probably the reason... but rather because his memories were warped and his mind and body literally melted and twisted into something else so violently different (demon yk yk) and so, he literally just....can't remember why he liked the name artemis.... he just did... he just. chose it. for "no reason". maybe!! maybe artemis was one of the very few gods he actually LIKED and so, the name stuck out in his frayed and wrecked mind. more on that line of thinking.... maybe he doesn't even remember his own daughter, Hedone (daughter between eros and psyche!)

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I Can't Sit Still

The lads men noticing that you’re fighting yourself to just sit still. [Requested by: luxis-journal]

Zayne

Zayne was being awarded tonight and all you needed to do was say a few hellos and sit pretty for the night. Why did your anxiety jitters have to kick in now? Those few hellos had turned into half an hour small talks with one too many people. Zayne was quite the hot topic amongst the healthcare community; it almost seemed like he was a celebrity. You being the beautiful woman on his arm it was only natural that people were curious about you as well. The night seemed to drag on as the mingling continued. Finally when everyone was seated at their respective tables for the showcase you thought this would help you relax. However the damage had already been done.

Your leg bounced furiously under the table while your fingers moved your silverware aimlessly. “Are you alright my love?” Zayne whispered in your ear pulling you back to reality. “I’m fine why?” You responded snapping your spine straight. You felt him place a hand on your thigh calming your ever bouncing leg. His palm was warm and you could feel your self relaxing into his touch. “You’ve been eerily quiet and you can’t seem to sit still” Zayne studied your face as you glanced over your shoulder at the many people in the room. “I'm not good in social settings” You sighed “It gives me anxiety as a matter of fact I think I may be sweating my deodorant off right now” You wrung your hands as your eyes continued to ping pong around the room.

Your gaze landed back on Zayne who couldn’t help, but look at you with concern ”If you’d like to leave I can have them send my award to the hospital” That was just like him willing you drop everything for you, but you couldn’t let him do that. “This is a big night for you I'll be fine Dr. Zayne” You smiled and kissed his cheek.

You were not fine.

Which is why Zayne did not stop worrying about you. The second he was called to receive his award, he gave a brief thank you speech and next thing you knew his fingers were intertwined with yours and you were quietly slipping out the room without a single goodbye or explanation.

He held the car door open as you folded yourself into the seat. You watched him circle the car and waste no time getting in and pulling out of the parking lot. “Zayne you didn’t have to do that we could have at least stayed for dinner” You tried to talk some sense into him as he glanced down and placed his hand on your thigh. “Look at that it’s no longer bouncing”

Rafayel

Attending these art exhibits with Rafayel was nothing new except tonight you two had to travel outside of the country for this one. Rafayel acted as a translator for you since he was fluent in many languages, but it did nothing to calm the rising anxiety in you. With the language barrier and the unfamiliar environment your anxiety was reaching its peak. You'd gone deathly quiet after an hour and found yourself hanging onto Rafayels arm while subtly hiding behind him.

You mindlessly thrummed your fingers on your leg and constantly fought the urge to keep adjusting your dress and rubbing your neck. You were about as slick as sandpaper though of course Rafayel noticed your fidgeting immediately.

“What's wrong?” He questioned, cupping your face. “This is a lot” You whispered, gesturing to the crowd. He scanned your face for anything else that you might be hiding. “Then let’s leave” He didn’t give you a chance to object before he was puling you by the wrist towards the nearest exit.

By the time you reached the street Rafayels’ driver was already there waiting. He promptly guided you into the car and climbed in behind you. “Raf you have got to stop disappearing during your own exhibits” You said, pushing his shoulder when he started chuckling to himself. “Those snobs aren’t worried about me as a person they’re more occupied with who can buy my work for the highest price”

“Still you didn’t have to leave just because I can’t sit still” You pouted. Rafayel leaned in close almost touching his nose to yours “You keep me sane through these if you’re uncomfortable then I’m uncomfortable”

Xavier

Xavier loved to read and eat hotpot with you and since today was chilly it was the perfect weather to stay in and do just that. The plan was to stop in Barnes & Noble, buy a few books and head back home quick and easy. Too bad you ran into a group of people you know and you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for any kind of small talk.

Xavier noticed you constantly pulling on your sleeves and wringing you hands. He could tell you were hanging on by a thread trying to be nice and keep the conversation going.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm not feeling well baby can we go home?” Xavier calmly grabbed your hand and stared deep into your eyes hoping he did the right thing. A subtle smile curved on your lips as a silent thank you for getting you out of this conversation. “My bad Xav let’s get you home” You quickly dismiss yourself from the conversation, grabbed your books and headed home. A wave of relief washed over you when you slumped against the passanger seat.

“Thank you so much I was about to start speaking nonsense if that conversation went on any longer” You kissed Xaviers cheek making him blush. “Im glad I could help” He muttered while rubbing his neck. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

Sylus

Sylus couldn’t stand seeing those puppy dog eyes you gave him whenever he had to leave for something. Your tactic of keeping him occupied in bed wasn’t working either apparently this meeting he needed to get to couldn’t be rescheduled. So here you were sitting at the head of a long table with all eyes on you and Sylus.

Why did he have to sit you on his lap?

Many men brought different jewels and business prospects to Sylus as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. As one of the men in the room rambled on about …. whatever the fuck …. you mindlessly shook your foot and constantly adjusted on his lap only for him to move you back to your original position. Sylus leaned in to whisper in your ear after yet again readjusting you on his lap. “Sweetie I can’t have you sitting at that angle you're crushing my balls” You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Here you thought he was just trying to whisper sweet nothings in your ear like the smooth talker he is. “You’re shaking like a puppy in the rain what's the matter, tell me”

You drop your head to stare at your hands as you whispered “I don’t like how much attention is on me” Sylus nods as he takes in your words. “Can you sit still for an hour or would you like to leave?” You knew how important this meeting was for Onychinus so you tried to suck it up and stay still.

That just made it worse.

Sylus noticed your movements becoming more frequent and jerky. “Let’s go” He said under his breath. He stood abruptly from his seat cradling you in his arms. He ordered Luke & Kieran to stand in for him as he disappeared from the room with you. “Im so sorry I can’t control it” You hid your face in his chest feeling like you ruined his entire meeting. “No worries Princess I saw all I needed to see and I wasn't impressed” He readjusted to hold you a little higher. “Besides your anxiety seems to be winning this internal battle”

Your head snapped up at his accusations “I don’t-” He cut you off with a stern look “Don’t lie”

You bury your face in his chest again “Don’t judge me” Your words were muffled. “I’m not judging you” You looked up to find him staring down at you with a tender gaze. “Let’s get you back in bed”

[daisyblog]

“Tommy…meet my Dad!”

Young Love Masterlist Summary: Tommy, Mia’s boyfriend, meets Louis.

based on this request.

warning: mentions of family member passing away

(Mia - 13, Tommy - 13, Noah - 8)

“So tonight’s the night…I get to meet the lad that’s stolen my little girls heart!”. Louis voiced into the open spaces kitchen. Mia and Noah were sat at the kitchen island eating their lunch as YN pottered around trying to tidy away random items that had been left.

“Don’t be embarrassing Dad!”. Mia rolled her eyes as she reached to grab her phone to reply to Tommy’s text. “He’s already terrified to meet you…especially after what Uncle Harry said at the show”.

Louis took Noah’s empty plate away and placed it in the dishwasher. “Hey, give me a chance…I was thinking we order some pizza, have a film night…and then I’ll tell him if he hurts you I’ll kick his ass!”.

“Mum!”. Mia shouted in annoyance, wanting her mother’s help as she sent Louis daggers. Louis chuckled to himself as he stood tall and large smirk on his face.

Noticing his dad was teasing his older sister, Noah joined in. “Mia’s got a boyfriend, Mia’s got a boyfriend!”.

“Shut up Noah!”. Mia had become irritated by the whole situation.

“Right that’s enough!”. YN’s assertive voice entered the kitchen with a point to prove. “Noah…stop teasing your sister…and Louis stop trying to scare Tommy before he even arrives!”.

Mia sent a sarcastic smile to Louis, pleased that her Mum was on her side with this.

“On that note…I’m going out!”. Mia popped her used dishes in the sink and began to walk away.

“Be back by six for dinner!”. Louis shouted in her direction. “Can’t wait to meet Tommy!”. Louis continued to be amused by his over exaggerated teasing.

YN stood with her hands on her hips, a look of disappointment written on her face. “You better behave yourself tonight!”.

“I always behave!”.

---

Just after 6pm, the sound of the front door opening perked Louis up as he lounged on the sofa. He could hear a mixture of two voices, one deeper than the other. He knew it must have been Mia and Tommy. It was new unfamiliar feeling for Louis. He’d always thought this moment wouldn’t happen for a long time, but before he knew it, his little newborn baby girl was now a teenager.

Mia appeared by the doorframe of the living room, where Louis was still sitting. Louis noticed the young boy standing behind his daughter. He was a head taller than Mia, his curls were loose on his head and his eyes darted with nerves.

“Where’s Mum?”. She was quick to ask noticing her mother was no where in sight, and knew her father would use that to his advantage.

“She’s upstairs helping your brother a minute”. Louis calmly explained, as he still sat and stared at them both. “Are you coming in? Or are you gonna stand there all night looking like you’re about to shit yourselves!”.

Mia glanced back at Tommy, who let out a small smile at Louis humour. They both walked quietly into the room. Whilst Mia sat comfortably on the other sofa to Louis, Tommy sat on the edge of his seat next to her. His nervousness was filling the room.

“Are you gonna introduce us Mi?”. Louis gave his daughter a sarcastic look.

“Dad…this is Tommy!”. The young boy gave Louis a polite smile. “Tommy…meet my Dad!”.

Before Louis had the chance to say anything, Tommy found his voice. “It’s nice to finally meet you…Mia’s told me a lot about you”.

Louis smiled with happiness, as he nodded his head. “I’m sure she has…but has she told you that if you hurt my girl, then I’ll kick your ass?”.

“Dad!”.

Tommy gulped heavily as he looked from Louis to Mia. “I…I-”.

“Louis! What did I say?”. YN appeared into the living room, giving Tommy’s shoulder a gently tap as she passed by. “Don’t listen to him Tommy…the only thing that’ll be kicked is Louis out of this room if he doesn’t behave”.

“Ooo feisty!”. Louis responded, staring at YN in amusement. He looked back Tommy, knowing the humour may have gone too far. “I’m sorry Tommy…I was just trying to scare you a little, I don’t mean it…I’ve only heard positive things about you”.

YN knew Louis would take it a step too far, and the fear was still in Tommy. “Shall we order pizza?”.

“PIZZA!”. Noah came running into the room, jumping on Louis without warning.

---

With dominoes boxes surrounding them, as they sat around the kitchen table, Louis wouldn’t like to admit it yet but he liked Tommy. He was polite, he was kind to Mia and he already fitted into their family dynamic.

“So Tommy, did you enjoy Harry’s show the other week?”. Louis asked with a slice of pizza sitting between his fingers.

Tommy placed his glass of orange fanta down on the table after taking a sip. “Yeah…it was really fun, I hadn’t been to a concert like that before…so it was different”.

“Harry puts on a show, fair play to the lad”. Louis complimented his younger brother.

“My brother’s girlfriend hasn’t shut up about me going…she wanted to go but couldn’t get any tickets”. He explained, trying to continue the conversation.

YN smiled at Mia as they both realised that Louis and Tommy were having their own conversation. “How many brother and sisters do you have?”.

“Uh…I have two older brothers, Adam and Ethan”. Tommy began to explain, Louis and YN smiled as he spoke. “They’re a bit older than me, so they’ve moved out…but they’re always coming back for my mum to do something for them”.

Louis picked up that Mia had become tense all of a sudden, and kept glancing to her side to take small looks at Tommy. The next sentence to fall from his lips, explained why.

“Uhh…my um…my dad passed away a couple of years ago…so it’s just me and my mum”. Tommy wasn’t sure why he blurted that bit of information out, but he felt it was necessary for them to get to know him.

The words hit Louis hard. He felt the twinge in his chest as he sympathised with the young boy that sat in front of him, showing them all a vulnerable side.

“We’re really sorry to hear that Tommy…I’m sure he’d be very proud of the young lad that’s sat here tonight”. Louis spoke with confidence as he wanted him to know that he liked him.

“Thank you”. A small smile was shared.

YN noticed the shift in the atmosphere, wanting to change that she thought of nice gesture. “Perhaps your mum would like to come over some tea one day, we’d love to meet her”.

“She’d really like that!”.

---

Louis was sat outside in the garden, a white stick between his fingers and smoke circling in front of his face. He was distracted by his own thoughts, when he heard the sliding door open and close. A body came to sit on the small wall next to him.

“You alright lad?”. Louis asked when he realised it was Tommy. “You better not be out here for a smoke”.

Tommy could hear the teasing in Louis’ voice, but he felt the need to reassure him. “No…no…definitely not…just wanted some fresh air”.

The silence between the two was surprisingly comfortable, neither said a word for a few minutes, just enjoying the natural sound of the world around them.

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad”. Louis’ voice was quiet, very calming.

Tommy gulped loudly as he began to pick at the loose cotton on his denim shorts. “It’s okay…it’s got a little easier with time”.

“I lost my mum and sister…in a short space of time, so I know how you feel”. Louis shared the facts, assuming Mia had already told him. “Although it gets easier, doesn’t mean you don’t feel all the emotions at times…so if you ever want to talk, I’m here!”.

“Thanks Louis!”. Tommy turned to smile at him, realising that he wasn’t as scary as he thought he’d be. If anything they had a lot in common.

“Anytime son, anytime!”.

miatomlinson

liked by lottietomlinson, tommybaker and 823,729 others

miatomlinson my mum calls him love, my dad calls him son❤️ View all 8,124 comments

tommybaker my girl❤️

louist91 I can still kick his ass!! ⌞niallhoran I can help! ⌞miatomlinson Uncle Niall don’t spoil it, you’re my favourite!

yntomlinson Aw young love🥰🥰

niallhoran Just how fast the night changes, ey?

lottietomlinson Cuties💖Can’t wait to see you xx

sophia_lewis So happy for you bestie💞

benstanton got the parents approval then mate😂

1dfan9 Mia using 1D lyrics in 2023 was not on my list!!

louisfan3 LOUIS MET HIM!! #protectivedad

1dfan7 EVERYBODY WANNA STEAL MY GIRL!!

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @slaymybreathaway @wh0s-nadii @peterholland04 @lillisummers

[boowritess]

gaz is my favourite to do the whole friends to lovers trope because imagine:

ya'll were childhood best friends, somehow managed to stick side by side despite having different interests and set of friends. knowing the other had their back when needed.

but it was nothing more than friendship.

atleast that's what the both of you delulued yourselves to think...

anyways, gaz joins the military, somehow ya both still managed to stay in contact. gaz messaging or calling at any free opportunity.

shower, bathroom, on a run, cleaning, as soon as he wakes up.

and it's crazy cause the 141 are like, "so when we gonna meet your little girlfriend?"

and gaz is like !?!?!??! "what girlfriend?"

in return 141 are just !?!?!?!!?!?!? "da fuq you mean what girlfriend, gaz? the girl you've been talking to every 5 minutes!"

and gaz, just- blushes. he doesn't know why but he does. like haha, you as his girlfriend- that's weird! could you imagine!? could you imagine...

gaz starts to fucking hyperfixate on imagining you as his girlfriend than bestfriend.

and like you and gaz have always heard people say that before but for some reason being thousands of miles away from you made him really fucking start to fixtate on that scenario. the 141 boys did not help. at all. always asking how gaz's girl is- making gaz roll his eyes and hide the blush as he talks to you on the phone.

then idk he gets to go home. gets to see you. and he forgets about the whole girlfriend conversation and is just happy to be with you. his best friend. his confidenant. his ride or die. his girl.

but then he realizes that he'd have you in whichever form you'd give him. and that's why- that's why he shoves away the thoughts about you being his girlfriend- UNTIL-

he's pissed. some lad you're seeing isn't treating you right (ofc it's some guy you met while gaz was away) and you're defending the guy. but every defence you bring up, he's got a rebuttal right back.

"he's not always so mean..." "bird, i've never talked to you like he did tonight, that ain’t an excuse."

"he's just having a shit time at work." "love, seriously? i get shot at on a constant basis and have fallen out of a helicopter twice."

"okay well- it's just a bad day today for him- that's all." "doll, when i've had the shittest day, any message, call, gift from you, anything that reminds me of you, makes me feel millions and millions more better. my 'bad day' is when we haven't talked."

...so things get pretty intense, and idk, maybe your stubborn and just like sarcastically say, "well not every guy feels the same as you gaz."

"damn right they don't because how i feel for you, none of those assholes could ever comprehend how much i lo-"

and he stops himself. clenches his jaw and swallows down the 'i love you'. he looks away from you when you look at him confused.

becauae you both have said those three little words before. throughout your whole friendship. what's different now???

♡

ahhhhhhhhhh i just wowwww gaz w/ friends to lovers trope yes pleasee

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve’s parents are in a cult and sacrifice him for their own gains. Yall can thank @whoevenknowsdude for giving me the motivation not to give up on this version.

The party was going on as usual. Steve had been to many of them before. The earliest he remembered was being five and led around by his mother’s hand, then eventually being handed off to a nanny for the rest of the evening. It was always some sort of parade. As a young child, he was the cute baby version of his father. Something for the women to coo at.

Around 11 he was a growing lad who was expected to cause a little trouble. Then at 14 he was a young man with a promising future. 

Growing up, there was one part he was always dreading. The point where people tried to set him up with their daughters, or granddaughters, or nieces. He heard pieces of such transactions all the time. 

‘Oh you must meet my daughter.’ 

‘You know Celia is about your age...’ 

‘So have you got a girlfriend?’

Steve caught glimpses of the older boys either politely rebuffing or ending up engaged with someone. This was a very insular crowd, he knew that. Still, he hoped he’d have something resembling a choice when the time came.

And yet, as he got older, no one rushed to introduce him to anyone. It confused him to no end. He had no trouble attracting girls at school and all of his parents’ friends thought he was charming. He came from good stock. Why did no one want him to marry their daughter?

He tried not to feel so offended by it. But it was just so bizarre. 

But back to tonight. It was going like it always did. Steve spent most of it by his parents’ sides, only occasionally going off on his own. He made nice conversation, had a drink or two, despite being nineteen, and kept the Harrington name good and golden.

As the hour got late though, it got to the point where most of the men split off to have cigars. Steve was usually excused at this point but this time his father put a hand on his shoulder and led him to the next room. He took part in more conversation about his prospects (not going to school but who needed to when he was planning on succeeding his father) and drank some brandy.

“Steve, it’s time we discussed your future”, his father said, letting out a puff of cigar smoke.

“What about it...exactly?”, Steve asked.

“That sometimes we must defer to a higher power.”

“....Right...”

“Steven”, one of the other men started. “You ever take one for the team?”

“Yeah, plenty of times. But what are you guys talking about what’s going on?”, Steve asked.

“Come with me, son.”

Steve got up and followed his father. The other men came along down the stairs into the basement of the clubhouse. But then it went deeper.

“History is filled with ambitious figures, Steve. People who did whatever it took to reach their goals. Tonight it’s up to you to take us even higher.”

“Up to me? What do you want me to do?”

They came to the bottom of the stairs. His mother was already waiting, along with the other women. There was a large stone slab with restraints on it and Steve felt his stomach drop at the implication. But he didn’t want to believe it. It was too crazy.

“Mom, Dad...what are we doing here?”

“The higher power we worship will give us fortune beyond what we could dream of”, his father said. “But everything has its price.”

Before Steve could utter another question, he felt hands on him, gripping and pushing him towards the slab. He struggled and screamed for both of his parents. For some kind of explanation. For something that made sense. But he could feel his sanity slipping as they got him on the altar and tied his limbs down.

Lawrence, 50, with an unconvincing hairpiece stood over him. Steve never liked Lawrence. He always looked at him weird and his touches lingered like he was inspecting a piece of meat.

He was doing it now, trailing a hand up his tied up arm.

“I can’t thank you enough for your sacrifice, Steven. And your parents for bringing up such good stock. I have no doubt he will be pleased with you.”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on but there’s no way you’re going to kill me for-for what? More money?”

His mother came into view, her expression mournful and Steve wanted to vomit.

“Steve, my love, we won’t be killing you. We could never do that. We just need a bit of your blood. After that....well after that....”

“Our lord will do what he wants with you. And with their lot I can only imagine he will want to devour your soul”, his father finished.

“So you are killing me.”

“We won’t be dealing the killing blow”, his father said. “And who is to say you won’t survive?”

Steve took a deep breath through his nose. This was insane. But it seemed like they at least didn’t plan to put a stake through his heart. He’d lose a bit of blood, they’d probably chant, and then when their demon lord didn’t show up, he could get a shower and then maybe disown his parents.

That didn’t make this situation any less shitty though.

Then someone ripped open his jacket and shirt, exposing his chest. Both of his parents were given knives. The knowledge that they didn’t intend to kill him quell that instinctual fear. Steve had always been a good kid. But sometimes good wasn’t enough. Sometimes he wondered if his parents regretted having him. So his current view wasn’t helping at all in that regard.

They both cut a slit right in the center of his palms and he hissed. They then took his blood and drew a symbol on his stomach. 

There was indeed chanting but between the alcohol, his bleeding hands, and the general delirium, Steve couldn’t make it out. God, he just wanted this to be over. He just wanted normal parents who didn’t sacrifice their own son to the devil.  He wanted a lot of things but it seemed like life would disappoint him one last time.

“Whoa! You’ve got a real party going on here”, a voice said, coming down the stairs.

“Who the hell are you?”, one of the chanters demanded.

Steve craned his neck to see....some guy. It was just some guy, in a black tank top and ripped jeans.

“Who? Me?”, he came to the bottom of the steps and looked around. “Was I not summoned? I thought I heard my name.”

“Someone get this fool out of here!”

“Oh, I see what the issue is. I’m not in the proper attire. My bad.” He took a few more steps forward, right into the range of the men who had advanced on him. Then flames erupted from his body, burning them in an instant. When the fire dissipated, Steve let out a gasp and started to actually pull against his restraints.

This was real! Fuck this was real! A real demon with horns and claws and fangs and shit-were those wings?! He had to get out of here, even if that meant ripping his hands and feet off to escape.

Turned out that was the wrong move. In seconds, the demon crossed the room on all fours and climbed atop the slab to hover over Steve.

“My lord”, Steve’s father said in an impressively even tone. “We offer you our greatest sacrifice-” He was cut off with a deep growl, one that Steve felt in his bones, being this close.

“You...haven’t...sacrificed....anything.” The demon turned its gaze to Steve, lying under him. “But you still have so much to give.” He touched a clawed hand to Steve’s stomach where the bloody symbol was. “Will you give it to me?”

Steve let out a breath. He was going to die. He was going to die and what did he have to show for it? Actually....what did he have to show for it if he lived tonight? Maybe it would be painless, this soul sucking. He just wanted to be done.

“Just take it”, Steve said. “Take whatever you want.”

The demon laughed darkly. “I always do.” He smeared a clawed hand against Steve’s torso, messing up what was drawn there. He sniffed his hand and let out a sigh. 

“Steve!”, his mother shrieked and he wondered if she had just realized what she was giving him up for.

“They spilt your blood for their own gains. Now to me, that doesn’t seem fair”, the demon said. “Don’t you think they should have to give something up? Don’t you want them dead?”

Steve dared to look the demon in his face. The eyes betrayed nothing. Just a blank, red void. But there was something about his expression anyway. Something in the quirk of his lip, the tilt of his head. Steve wondered if he actually would kill everyone in this room if he asked. As for himself, well, despite everything Steve couldn’t ask that of him. He really only wanted one thing and this might be his single chance to voice it out loud.

“I just want to be free.”

“Now see here”, Lawrence said, wagging a finger. “We have been your loyal servants. Our wishes-cckhk!”

He was cut off when the demon’s tail wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer. The demon brought him over until they were eye to eye.

“I would go ahead and count the blessings I already have. You all get to live another day.” He dropped Lawrence, ignoring his gasps for breath as he looked back down at Steve. “And you’re coming with me.”

Flames swirled around them but Steve didn’t feel any heat. Just a rush of warm wind as his restraints disappeared. The light got too bright though and he closed his eyes. When he no longer felt the light behind them, he opened them up, expecting the fires of hell, or a dark abyss of a pit. Maybe even some combination of the two.

Instead he found that he was in a….cramped apartment. The demon was back to the tank top and jeans and Steve wondered if someone had slipped something into a drink.

“You live here?”

The demon stuck his hands in his back pockets. “Whenever I come topside, yeah. And for the time being, so do you.”

“Me?”

“Don’t tell me you wanna go back to those assholes. Not after they-” He stopped speaking and his nostrils flared. Then he looked down.

Steve followed his gaze and saw that his hands were dripping blood onto the floor. “Ah, shit, sorry I-” He was about to wipe it on his ruined shirt when the demon grabbed a wrist, freezing him in place. His words were caught in his throat when the demon took a long sniff at the blood still slowly dripping out of his palm. He looked Steve in the eye as he slowly licked it clean. When the blood was gone, Steve saw his hand was completely healed.

The demon took his other hand and did the same, but somehow went even slower. The licks were punctuated with what could have been open mouth kisses but Steve wasn’t sure. Either the demon was making out with his hand or trying to eat him with little success.

When that one was finished, the demon looked at him and Steve was taken with how blown his eyes were. Like Steve’s blood was top shelf.

“B-buy a guy dinner first, huh?”

The demon came back into himself and took a step back, releasing Steve’s hand. “Yeah, sorry it’s just-yeah…” He cleared his throat and then turned, going deeper into the apartment. “So my home is your home, until you figure out exactly what you wanna do. Um, bathroom’s over there I’m sure you wanna get the rest of that blood off.”

He looked almost nervous to have Steve here. And the absurdity of that made Steve let out a chuckle. And then everything came crashing down on him and he started to laugh in earnest. The demon’s anxious stance just made more laughter bubble forth. What the fuck had his life become?

“Are you okay?”

“I just realized why none of them wanted me to date their daughters.” Steve pushed his hair out of his face. “They knew they’d be giving me to you.” As he laughed the tears started to fall. The demon looked even more shocked but then he came over and wrapped his arms around Steve.

“I don’t know why I’m laughing. Or why I’m crying.”

“Because it’s fucked up man. Like hilariously fucked up. And sometimes you gotta laugh about that crap.” The demon pulled away just enough to look Steve in the eye. “But you’re better than what you just left behind. You proved that by letting them live.”

Steve wiped at his eyes. “Well you already burned a couple of them. Wait, you killed them!”

“Collateral damage when I let my flames loose. I don’t like being touched.” He seemed to realize he was doing just that and raised his hands in the air before taking two steps away from Steve.

“I don’t even know your name. And you would’ve actually killed them for me?”

“Oh I go by Eddie nowadays.” He turned and looked like he was trying to make himself busy by picking things up and putting them down.

“Eddie? Just Eddie?”

“Short for Edifice. Um, did you want that shower?”

“I….” Steve still had questions. But he felt barely functioning right now. Like if he got one more bit of information his brain would explode.

“Steve….You’re free now. That was what you asked for.” The demon, no, Eddie, his name was Eddie, was smiling at him.

“I want….to go to sleep.”

Eddie started to walk away and Steve followed. He led him to a room where the bed took up most of the space.

“It’s yours for tonight. And tomorrow, well it’s all up to you now.”

Steve collapsed against the bed. He vaguely registered his shoes being taken off but soon fell into oblivion.

Part 2

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Horror Games | SFW Drabble

Had this idea earlier chatting with the group. Just. Xavier things. Cute boi. Happy guy. I love him. Also this is completely unedited so you're welcome in advance. Typos are a paid actor in my works.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Horror Games Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Technically speaking, this had all been your idea. You had seen a new horror game that had just come out and were itching to play it. The only issue was the fact that you tended to clam up while playing scary games, so you opted to simply watch.

Which ended up with you here, sitting on the couch with Xavier. Your legs were touching under the blanket as you leaned into him, watching the screen with interest.

He had a casual expression on his face, clearly enjoying playing the game as his fingers fiddled with the controls. He was doing well despite it not being a combat-based game, and he was quick to figure out a few of the puzzles.

Your issue was his bravery. He never hesitated to do anything in this game. This meant it was going by faster than you expected, and the deeper he got into the game, the worse it got. Your heart already felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as you jumped slightly at some of the background ambiance in the game. Your hand bunched up his white hoodie, and he looked over at you for a moment.

"Are you still doing okay?" he asked, noticing how terrified you looked. He was just about to go through one of the doors of the game, and you were now squirming.

"Can you not open that door?" you finally said, your words coming out hurriedly as you stared at the screen. This was one of those horror games where the protagonist opened the door at an agonizingly slow pace, basically peering into the void for a second before fully opening it.

"You mean the door I need to open in order to progress the story?" he asked with a slight chuckle. He had obviously noticed how high-strung you had gotten during the game. It was hard to hide the way you flinched or almost whimpered whenever something scary happened on the screen.

"Ya, I feel like something scary is on the other side of it." You confessed, your eyes still locked on the screen. Xavier gently placed the controller down on his lap.

"Is our brave hunter scared of a few pixels on the screen?" He asked, his tone now teasing. Seeing how the controller was no longer in his hand gave you the confidence to look at him, a small cowl on your face.

"It's not my fault this game is terrifying." You huffed, crossing your arms. You guessed it did come with the territory of being a horror game, but still. You hadn't expected him to breeze through it and get to every single scary quick time event the game had to offer in the three hours he had been playing it.

Xavier chuckled, going to cup your cheek and tug on it, "It's alright, I promise, I'll protect you if anything decides to leave the TV and get to you." The thought had you whining at the mental image it provided. The terrifying monster crawled out of the TV, head twisted at an awkward angle as his crab walked over to you, the bones creaking...god, now you were freaking yourself out.

"Xavie, I want to be able to sleep tonight, you know." You complained, knowing he was doing this on purpose. He would often try to scare you just to see your reactions. How horror never really seemed to bother him was beyond your comprehension.

"That's fine; you can just sleep in my bed tonight. I can protect you better if you're in my arms." He said, and you blushed slightly. It wasn't like it was uncommon to share a bed with him; you two were dating for a while.

"I dunno; it might take more than that to make me comfortable enough to sleep." You murmured.

Xavier hummed as he thought, "Then how about...after we finish for the night, we get some warm milk, watch some cat videos on your phone, and then I'll read you a story in bed to help you fall asleep better?"

His offer was a good one, and it had you smiling, "Alright, deal...on one condition." You held out a single finger, and Xavier smiled, waiting for you to finish your thought, "Tomorrow morning, you wake up early enough to go to that diner across the street so I can get a greasy breakfast sandwich."

"You mean so we can get greasy breakfast sandwiches?" He corrected you, and now you were giggling.

"Ya, so we can do that together. Do we have a deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain," He began, then held out his hand to shake yours, "But I accept as long as you don't wake me up before the sun rises."

"Like I'd be awake by then anyway," You shook his hand, his grip tight on you as he dragged you into his embrace. He was now pulling you closer onto his lap, settling you between his legs. His arms wrapped around your waist as he clicked on the controller to resume the game.

"Alright, but first, we have to go through this door."

"W-wait, Xavier, no," And just as you predicted, there was something scary on the other side, and sadly, Xavier learned the hard way not to rest his chin on the head of someone who jumped when scared. Thankfully for him, he healed fast. Sadly for you...well, at least he kissed the top of your head.

[talkdutchtome]

Dress - Mason Mount

pairing . . . mason mount x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . mason mount had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, so why now all of a sudden was sleeping with him all you could think about )

song . . . dress- taylor swift )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, some light choking, fingering, some oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, not proofread )

word count . . . 2900 words )

a/n . . .this is my first ever smut so i apologise if it's not great but after mason's new ad i just couldn't not)

 Our secret moments in a crowded room  They got no idea about me and you  There is an indentation in the shape of you  Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo   

Mason Mount was your best friend. You had known him since childhood; your mums were friends, so you had grown up together. For as long as you could remember he would be by your side, your other half- purely platonic of course. Or it used to be platonic anyway. Over the last few months something had changed between the two of you, you didn’t know why it had or when it happened, but it did. It started with stolen glances; you’d find yourself looking at him differently than you ever had before. As lifelong best friends, there were occasions when you’d see each other in underwear; before you wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but now, you couldn’t help but look. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from his muscular legs, from the way his underwear pulled tightly across his crotch. Maybe you would have felt bad about looking at him like that if you hadn’t noticed him glancing at your chest when you wore a particularly low-cut dress. 

 After that, things progressed to lingering touches, there would be times that the two of you would be walking down the street and Mason would hold his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you down the road. Sometimes at parties or clubs you would dance together, closer than any two friends should ever be, spurred on by Dutch courage. As the music throbbed through the floor and alcohol coursed through your veins, you and Mason moved together in a dance that transcended friendship. His hand found the small of your back, and the way he guided you through the crowded dance floor was different tonight, closer and more intimate than ever before. You could feel his warm breath against your ear as he whispered jokes and secrets amidst the music's relentless beat. Every step and sway seemed to bring you closer together until the only thing separating you were the clothes you were wearing. In that moment, with the electrifying chemistry between you two, you both began to realize that the line between friendship and something deeper was blurring, and with each synchronized movement, the unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. 

You truthfully didn’t know how to explain your relationship with Mason. You weren’t more than friends, but you weren’t just friends either. Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You didn’t even know if you wanted to be more than friends with him, the pair of you were so similar to each other, too similar sometimes; you weren’t sure if you would be compatible together. All you knew was there was so much sexual tension between the two of you it was making it almost impossible to function 

All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation  My hands are shaking from holding back from you  Ha, ah, ah  All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting  My hands are shaking from all this  Ah, ha, ha, ha-ah   

With all that considered, when Mason messaged you letting you know that a few of the Chelsea lads were going to a party tomorrow night and that you should come along, you knew what you needed to do. This had gone on for too long, so much had been left unsaid and you were sick of it. Maybe you wouldn’t be compatible in a relationship, but you didn’t want a relationship, you just wanted him. So on the day of the party you went out and bought sluttiest, skimpiest dress you could find; then you spent longer then you ever usually would getting ready. To put it bluntly, you looked good as hell, and you were ready to go and get your man. However, this effort seemed to be for nothing when you walked into the party to find a girl sat on Mason’s lap, whispering in his ear and peppering kisses on his neck. You felt completely thrown, of course Mason could do what he wanted, but you thought that this game of cat and mouse you were playing would ultimately ended with the two of you admitting what you want and getting it, it being each other. But it seemed like that wasn’t to be it seemed. It hurt, you couldn’t deny that, but you simply told yourself to get over it and find somebody else to scratch that itch.  

You found that person in the shape of Kepa Arrizabalaga. You knew from Mason that he was a bit of a ladies man, the kind of person to prefer one-night stands to a real relationship; he was perfect. It started with a bit of light flirting, you batted your eyelashes, laughed at his semi-unfunny jokes whilst placing a hand on his rock hard bicep. It didn’t take long for things to move on, both of you were aware of what this was so there was no need to beat around the bush. Soon his lips were on yours and he was leading the way to a spare bedroom. It may not have been what you came into this party expecting, but you certainly weren’t going to complain. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mason was across the room watching this whole scene go down. To say he was jealous would be an understatement, he didn’t know it until the very moment he saw you all over his teammate, but you were his. You were his and watching Kepa lead you away to a bedroom made him sick. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there was something between the two of you but to put it plainly, he was nervous. He wanted you and you wanted him; but what if after you had each other your friendship couldn’t recover. He had been friends with you for as long as he could remember, you knew him more than he knew himself and didn’t want to do anything that would risk your friendship. So he pushed his feelings down, he deflected everything he felt for you to another girl and it was going fine. Abby was fine, she wasn’t you, but she was fine. That was until he saw Kepa undressing you with his eyes, saw you reciprocating all of his flirty advances; it was in that exact moment that Mason decided he was done being the bigger person and ignoring his need for you. He wanted you and he was going to have you.  

Mason was hot on your heels, following the pair of you into the room. However the few seconds delay meant that when he burst into the room, he was greeted by the picture of you straddling the Spaniard, your lips attached to his neck.  

“Sorry to interrupt, Y/N I need to speak to you.” Mason said, staring at the pair of you, burning a hole into your back.  

“No Mase I’m busy go away” You detached your lips from Kepa’s neck to tell Mason to fuck off before promptly reconnecting them again.  

“Kepa mate fuck off I need to speak to Y/N” Mason said again, clearly not ready to give up. You sighed heavily and got ready to curse Mason out, telling him to leave you alone but were interrupted by Kepa. 

“Yeah, I think I should go” you heard the man underneath you say, prompting you to get up and let him leave. 

“What the fuck was that about Mason, I was clearly doing something?” You asked, really confused by your best friends outburst. He made it clear that he didn’t want anything from you so why should he be bothered if you go and get it from somebody else. 

“Kepa, Y/N? Why Kepa?” You got up from the bed and stood in front of him 

“Why not Kepa? I needed something and he was willing to provide. Who would you rather I chose?” You said, walking closer to him until you were only inches apart. 

“Me Y/N. I would have rather you chose me.” His words made time freeze. You could feel your own heartbeat race and you could hear his do the same. This was it, all of the build up from the last few months were coming to a head right here. You watched as his eyes scanned your body from top to bottom, taking in every inch of you, looking at you like he would never see you again. And then, after a pause that felt both like a million years but also milliseconds, his lips crashed onto yours. Your hands came to his hair instantly, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. At the sensation of you lightly pulling at his hair, Mason groaned into your mouth, making your pussy clench around nothing, desperate for him.  “Jump” he said, pulling his lips away from yours before planting them on your neck. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands coming up to your ass immediately, giving it a rough squeeze.  

Say my name and everything just stops  I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah  Carve your name into my bedpost  ’Cause I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah 

He throws you on the bed carelessly, like he doesn’t have time for niceties, like if he took even a second longer than was absolutely necessary, he would blink and you would be gone. You watch as he takes of his shirt and then his trousers, leaving him stood there in his underwear. The way his hard cock strained in his underwear made you gulp; he was huge, you could tell that without even needing to see it.  

“Let’s get this dress off pretty girl” he said, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it before. He pulled you up so you were standing facing away from him. His hands go to your zip immediately. 

“You looked so beautiful today. This dress looks so good on you” He whispers in your ears, gently nibbling on your earlobe in-between each word. The words send shivers down your spine, causing you to let out a soft, barely audible moan. His rough hands pull down the zip of your dress causing it to fall to the floor. You could practically hear Mason’s jaw hit the ground when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. He spins you around immediately, his mouth going to one nipple, his hand to another. The sucking, nibbling and pinching made you feel like you were going crazy. It felt so good but you needed more, you needed him.  

“Please Mase” you said breathlessly, reaching out to palm his hard dick through his boxers. “I need you” He laughs at your neediness. 

“You need me do you? Why don’t you show me how much you need me” he said finally detaching his mouth from your breast before very gently pushing you down to your knees. Seeing the light and excitement in your eyes when you caught on to what he meant made Mason curse himself for waiting so long to do this. He swore he could see stars when you started placing small barely there kisses on his cock over his underwear. Then he swore he was going to pass out when you reached into his underwear, pulling his cock out and immediately licking a long stripe from the base to the tip before placing his whole manhood in your mouth. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat was a feeling Mason knew he would never be able to forget. Things got even better for Mason when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck baby you’re so good at this” Mason croaked out and his praise spurred you on, taking him even deeper into your mouth making him let out a guttural moan. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, desperate for him to touch you, desperate for him to fuck you. As if he could read your mind, Mason abruptly pulled himself out of your mouth, causing you to look up at him confused. The sight of you was a sight that Mason wanted to see every day until the day he died. On your knees, your lips swollen, and your lipstick smudged, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging to be fucked. 

“Lay on the bed Babygirl, I’m going to make you feel so good” he said, and you did as he asked immediately. You truly thought tonight couldn’t get any better, you were proved wrong however when he clambered onto the bed and settled his head in-between your legs and started leaving hot, open kisses on your thighs and over your soaking underwear.  

“I need you so bad Masey, fuck me please” you pleaded to him, garnering a laugh from the man in-between your thighs. 

“Be patient Y/N, I’ll fuck you in a minute, but I want to taste you first” That was it, that settled it; you had died and gone to heaven. Unable to contain himself, he ripped the thong off your body and marveled at how wet your pussy was. You wanted to curse him out for ruining your favorite pair of underwear but when his mouth made contact with your clit, you couldn’t think or see straight. The feeling on his tongue licking strips up your pussy, lapping up all of the wetness before attaching itself to your clit, was a feeling that made you forget your own name. It didn’t take long before you could feel the need to cum building up, the tension in your stomach being almost too much to bear.  

“Oh, fuck Masey I’m going to cum” you just about managed to get the words out in-between moans that sent shockwaves to Masons throbbing cock.  

“Cum baby. Cum and I’ll fuck your brains out” His words were accompanied by his tongue dipping into your pussy and his thumb coming up to rub circles on your overstimulated clit. It took seconds after that for you to reach your peak, letting out moans that could rival a pornstars.  

“Let me ride you” you asked Mason once you had ridden out your orgasm. Mason said nothing, he simply picked you up and flipped you, so you were on top of him, your legs on either side of him.  

“Fuck Y/N I don’t have a condom” Mason said, looking like he wanted to die, he needed you so badly, he really didn’t think he could walk away now without knowing what it feels like to be buried deep inside of you.  

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean” you told him and watched his eyes pop out of his head, clearly not able to believe his luck. 

“So- So am I” he stuttered out before crashing his lips onto yours. You reached for his cock, lining it up with your pussy. Mason hissed at the feeling of you slowly lowering yourself onto him and you felt tears fill the brim of your eyes, the burn of being stretched out being almost too much to handle. 

“You’re so big Masey, you fill me up so well” you said as the pain started to subside, being replaced with pleasure. After giving yourself some time to get used to his size, you started bouncing on top of him, moans spilling out of your mouth almost constantly, your hands resting on his chest, digging your nails into his skin.  

“My god you feel like heaven baby girl” Mason said through gritted teeth, one hand coming to massage your ass the other reaching up to your neck, not yet applying pressure but even the slight sensation had you moving faster on his dick, even more moans falling from your lips.  

“I’m not going to last long baby; I’ve dreamt of this for so long” Mason said breathlessly, moving his hand from your neck to your clit, before he started thrusting into you, taking control. 

“Cum on my dick and then let me fill you up. I’ll bet you look so pretty filled up with my cum” his words, the speed of which he was fucking you and his expert fingers got you to your point of release very quickly. You came harder this time, your pussy clenching around Mason’s dick like you were made for each other. He let you ride out your orgasm before flipping you around, so your back was on the bed, and started thrusting into you rough and fast. The scene of you on your back for him, tits bouncing up and down as he fucked you drove him crazy. His thrusts quickly became sloppy, a tell tell sign he was close, he brought his mouth down to yours, kissing you like a man starved as he reached his climax. You could feel his dick twitch in your over-stimulated pussy as he released himself inside you, his cum coating your walls. Exhausted, he collapsed onto you, his forehead pressed right against yours.  

“Why the fuck did we wait so long to do that?” 

There is an indentation in the shape of you  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  You made your mark on me, golden tattoo  Only bought this dress so you could take it off 

[adnauseum11]

Avenue of Approach (John Price x Reader)

Kate tries to pick up where she left off. John plays developments in your relationship close to the vest.

less than 1k words

CW: reference to oral sex

feedback welcome

It takes Kate almost half the night before she can pinpoint what’s different about John. Which annoys her. Which in turn throws her game off. Which annoys her even further when John wins the pot that evening and sticks around to count it out slowly, mirthful in his victory. She decides to exact some vengeance and sharpens her metaphorical blade on his thick skin. 

“Took a while but it finally dawned on me what’s different about you tonight. You might be in the best mood I’ve seen in a year or two, John.”

“mm…depends on which year or two you’re referring to, I suppose.” He says by way of agreement, tapping a small stack of bills into order against the table top. 

“Got anything to do with your lady-friend from last time? Get things, er…moving in the right direction?” Kate asks, having had enough whiskey while sitting around waiting for the game to end to feel braver than she ought.

John tucks his chin into his chest and looks up at Kate with his brows raised, assessing. A familiar look of disapproval slowly settles in to his features. 

“Are you asking to be a friend or to be a sore loser?” John pokes back, nailing Kate in her soft underbelly. Their friendship, hard fought and well tested, a vulnerability for them both. 

His response confirms her earlier suspicions, no matter his half-assed denial. Kate knows him well, and won’t be swayed from her assessment of the situation easily. She’s happy to watch him try, though. 

“John, please. You’re leaving with all my spending cash for the rest of the week, at least cough up some details.”

The corners of John’s mouth twitch as he fights off a smile, his face mellowing again. He can’t summon the energy to be cagey with Laswell, simply in too good of a mood to act otherwise.  

“What did you want to know?” He’s humouring her, tucking the wad of cash that is his winnings into the inner pocket of his jacket.      

“Surely you’ve got her to agree to do more than just kiss you by now?” Kate’s nursing the end of a whiskey, spinning it in her hands while she waits for John to answer. 

“We’re taking it slow, but yes.” He doesn’t elaborate and Kate’s smart enough, even drunk, to not stray further down that avenue. John has to physically start a task or he’ll starting reminiscing about eating his love out on her couch the other night. Her delectable thighs wrapped around his head were not enough to muffle her keening cry when she came on his face and fingers. He starts picking up the playing cards and facing them in the same direction, keeping his hands busy and his brain preoccupied. It works and stymies the beginnings of an erection. Kate’s prying works wonders as an ice bath, too.   

“Thought you’ve known her a long time, why take it slow? Don’t know her well enough yet? Do you think maybe another 20 years ought to do it?” The drink is making Kate mouthy, something she’ll regret tomorrow. 

“Piss off, Laswell. She’s scared to lose something we’ve had for a long time.” John stacks the cards on the table and crosses his arms over his chest.

“How did you two meet?” Kate tries a different tack, asking for details from the past instead of the present. It works, as much as anything ever works on John. 

“She was dating a mate of mine for a while before I shipped out. By the time I got back on my first leave they had broken up.” He kept the fact that his mate had taken to harassing and intimidating her, and that John had broken the lad’s cheekbone convincing him to leave her alone, to himself. Going forward he’d dropped the mate and kept tabs on the pretty bird. He’d yet to regret that choice. 

“And you didn’t get an opportunity to ask her out in the last two decades?” Kate is the embodiment of skeptical. 

“No.” John deadpanned, shutting down that line of questioning. He watched Laswell sulk into her whiskey for a moment.

The truth was, he’d had a front row seat to half of her life. His line of work, and being away as much as he was with no guarantee of return was too much. He knew it would kill a fledgling relationship with her quickly. She didn’t have the temperament for long periods alone, and John didn’t have the heart to ask it of her. He’d promised himself that if he made it to retirement, if she was single by some stroke of luck, he would finally do something about the feelings he’d been harbouring. The rest, as they say, was history.    

Recent history. It had been enough, once upon a time, to know she was out there, doing well in the world. Made it easier to leave, to know it was ultimately keeping her safe, what he did in the shadows. Now, selfish man that he was, he couldn’t sit and watch and have it be enough. He needed more; from her, from their relationship. He was willing to go slow, and like a starving man brought to a feast, it was probably wiser to do so.

“If you’re done, Kate? I’ve got somewhere else to be.” 

He pushed back from the table, swinging his coat over his shoulders smoothly. He gave Kate a smirk on his way past, just to rile her up and was gratified to see it working.

Good. Nosy git. 

[ufcconor]

Come on, baby

Knox x F!Reader

(Y/n) Brandt has a history with her fathers most trustworthy hit man

SMUT SMUT SMUT

Getting the call from Gerald Brandt was a surprise to say the least. “Knox, I need you!” “What do you need?” Gerald screams into the phone, “Knox, my Idiot son is fucking things up!” “I’ll leave right away.” “And Knox, look after (y/n).” Knox pauses, excitement brewing in him. “You know I will.”

~

I see a man walking down the dock to the shitty houseboat named so cleverly “The Boat”. I sit up from my chair, holding onto my hat in the low wind as the boat rocks in the water. “That’s the new bouncer at the roadhouse Ben keeps going on about?” The smirk grows on my lips. My friend meets my gaze, staring at the man as he steps onto the boat and shamelessly begins to work out in the sun. “He’s hot.” I lean on the railing.

I wave my hand towards him as my boat sails by. “Looking good over there!” He stops mid-sit up and waves with a small smile before continuing his set. My friend scoffed with a smile. “I'm assuming you’re taking a trip down to the bar tonight.” I shrug sitting back in my hair and sipping my margarita. “Might be.”

I walk into the bar and scan the scene. The music is upbeat, and the people seem to be calm… for now at least. I allow my eyes to scan the entire place until I see him. Sitting at the bar, and quietly observing. I walk to him and take the seat directly beside him. I smile at the bartender, “Rum and coke please.”

The man beside me smirks as I mindlessly pat my fingers on the bar looking around. I meet his eyes and drop my jaw dramatically. “Well, what are the chances? Hey there handsome.” “My name’s Dalton.” I shake his hand, “(y/n). Nice to see you again. Shirt on this time, but we can work on that.”

Night after night I’d go to the roadhouse and sit with Dalton. Flirting and talking, were all fun. When there was an issue he’d get up, handle it with some sarcastic banter and strong punches, and then he’d be back beside me with a cheeky smile as if nothing happened. I like a man who can handle himself. He was a sweet guy to top it off. He definitely shouldn’t be the one to be here taking care of this matter. He shouldn’t have to be the one to deal with my idiot brother and his schemes.

~

I put six sandwiches on a plate and exit the home to the back patio. “Sandwiches are on the bar!” I yell to the boys as I sit down in a chair, opening my book. Not long after I gained inner peace, a loud collision struck right in front of the house. I tear my shades off as a figure enters. “Who the fuck put those bikes in my way?” I watch as Knox strolls in. “Who the fuck are you?” Clyde asks. Knox raises his hand to his face, “Shh.”

He walks to the bar and praises the leftover sandwiches. “Thank you, God. Sandwiches. I’m fucking famished.” He bites into the bread with a growl.

This can not be happening. I was set on the fact that I would not have to see this asshole ever again. The memories flash so quickly. A day full of shopping. The 4 bottles of wine at the most expensive restaurant in Rome. Romantic walks down the streets. Long nights full of him showering me with endless pleasure.

Moe bursts in quickly, “He knocked all the fucking bikes over!” I roll my eyes going back to my book. I’d rather not be involved in whatever the hell he’s doing. I turn the page in my book trying to focus on the words cascading down the page but I can feel his eyes burning onto my frame. Clyde towers over him. “Now you got a big ass problem, bucko.”

Knox nods, mouth full, “No shit! First off, I’m going to need more than 3 sandwiches.”

“I wasn’t done talking.” Clyde cuts Knox off.

Knox glares at Clyde, meeting his gaze with power. “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong, lad.” He pushes past Clyde and nears my chair. He stands next to me, looking down at me. I put my book down with a huff. Knox smiles, “What darlin’? Not a word for me? Thought you’d be happy to see me.” I stand up, bumping his arm as I walk past him.

Knox plops down in my seat, lounging back. “Aye, baby. Are you going to make me some more sandwiches or what?” I flip him off as I slam the door shut. “Stupid mother fucking Irish asshole.”

I tear my bathing suit off in a rush. Why the fuck has he come here? Something to do with my father no doubt. I step into the shower trying to calm my nerves, trying to burn out the heat that ignites in my core. He always had this effect on me. I can't help but remember the night.

I lay back on the couch, my dress hugged my body tightly. Knox saunters over with another glass of wine for me. “Mhh thank you,” I mumble out. He takes a seat next to me. I lay my legs over his thighs, beginning to look over his entire frame. He was big (no doubt everywhere). I run my foot over his crotch. He narrows his gaze at me. “Nah, lassie. That’s not in the cards for you.” He grabs my ankles putting my motions to a stop. I sigh before standing, rolling the wine into my glass. “I thought you were fun.” I lean down to my phone, putting some music on. I sway my hips, my back facing Knox. I down my glass of wine, turning around and arching my back on the wall. His eyes glued to my frame, his orbs burning into mine. I take a step forward, lowering the zipper of my dress with each step. I stand in front of him, zipper completely down, the dress hanging loosely. I lean down, my hands on his shoulders. “Still not in the cards? Even for me?” Knox chuckles, forcing his eye contact to the wall. “You father would have my ass, baby.”

I stand straight again. “Hm, that’s a shame.” I let the straps of the dress off my shoulders, it cascades down to the marble floor delicately. Only clad in my panties and expensive heels I turn away from him, leaving the dress at his feet.

“Fuckin hell.” He mumbles.

Before I know it I’m tossed onto the bed and Knox is kissing up my body and pampering my exposed breast with kisses and bites.

Soon his fingers pumping deliciously in and out of my heat. I arch up with a loud cry as an orgasm races through me. “There's a good girl."

I splash water onto my face. I can’t allow myself to get tangled in with him again. There’s nothing there but an empty promise. I know the bed will be cold by morning.

I step out of the shower and dry my body with the towel before hanging said towel up on the door. I bent over, flipping my head over to start drying my wet hair.

“I always did adore this side of you, love.”

I shoot up and turn around. “What the fuck!” I snatch my towel off the door and hold it up in front of me. “Get out!” He doesn’t. Instead, he walks closer causing me to back up until I hit the countertop. He places his arms on either side of me, making a chance for an easy escape difficult.

He bites his lip looking at my poorly hidden body. He catches the hem of the towel in his fingers. “Why don’t we catch up?” I look at him with wide eyes and anger boiling in my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Knox sucks in a breath. “Now listen, I know how it looked back then.” I scoff and push him away. He doesn’t fight me and allows me to pass. “Hate to see you go, but I love seeing you walk away, baby.” I enter my bedroom and with one last glance at Knox, I slam the door shut.

~

Ben walks into the back patio and sees Knox sitting in a tanning chair, eating a plate of sandwiches. “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” Knox nods, “Hey. I got a message for you. From your father.” He stands facing Ben.

Bem furrows his brow, “A message? My father? And what… What is this “message”?” Knox pops Ben in the nose quickly before tossing his arm over his shoulders. “You’re Ben, right? Jerry’s son?” He chuckles removing himself. Knox admires the house. He points to the pool shed. “This is where I’ll store my stuff. And that master bedroom up there is mine. Move your sister's shit in with mine. You can take her room.” Ben shakes his head, confusion clouds his mind. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

Knox grabs a golf club. “Your dad says you’ve been fucking things up.” He turns to Ben, who backs away. “He asked me to lend a hand.”

Ben scoffs, “How would my father know? He’s in a prison, rotting in a cell.” “Don’t be silly. Your father has spies everywhere.”

“Well, you can tell my father…” Ben starts but gets cut off by his sister (y/n) coming out. “Where are you going?” She rolls her eyes. “Why do you care?” She takes a step and Ben grabs her arm. Knox straightens up, anger brewing within him. No one gets to touch her.

“Is it the road house? To see your little boyfriend?” (Y/n) rips his arm off, “Believe it or not but I’m actually likable unlike you.” She walks off. “Don’t go to that fucking bar, (y/n)!” She turns around with a smirk. “Or what?” Knox watches her such as predator watches their prey. Fire brewed within his chest at the thought of some other man touching her, touching what he had claimed.

Ben runs his fingers through his hair, frustration existing on his face. “She’s such a pain in my ass.” He turns back to Knox. “I don’t need your fuckin’ help. I have it all under control.”

“No, you don’t.” Knox swings the club, making Ben back away again. “Yes, I have people out there right now… cleaning up this final issue, and that’s all…” Knox ignored Ben’s confident plan. “So, where’s this bouncer asshole?”

~

I enter the road house and move to the corner expecting to see Dalton but to my surprise, he’s nowhere in sight. Laura slides my drink over. “He’s late.” I furrow my brow. “That’s a first.”

An hour later Dalton comes in looking a little disheveled. He sits beside me taking a breath. “Hey.” “Hey, what’s going on?” He shakes his head. “Had a little mix-up with the sheriff.” I cringe internally, “A mix-up?” My brothers doing. Laura leans over conserved. “What are we talkin’ about?”

A surprising guest speaks a few seats away. “Yeah, what are we talking about?” Ben walks over, taking the seat next to me. “Hey, sis. Thought I told you to stay home.” Ben averts his attention from me. “I’m curious to hear what you were gonna tell her, Dalton. I’m Ben Brandt. (Y/n)‘s brother.”

Dalton smirks, “Let me guess. It’s your turn now.” “My turn?” “You know, to threaten me. Tell me to get out of town. Like your buddy, Big Dick.” Ben chuckled. “No. No, I get the impression that you can’t be threatened.

I wish you could be, but… I’d even bribe you if I thought money would work.” Dalton nods, “Really? How much we talking?”

“Ben, can you just fuck off?” He turns to me, anger in his eyes. “(Y/n) doesn’t it make you curious what an outsider like him… thinks he’s doing here.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know, Ben. Nor do I care. Just get the fuck out of here.”

Ben ignores me again. “So, I guess my question is… Why? Right? It can’t be just some competitive thing, you…you’ve won the fight. You can back off now. But you… you don’t. You just keep… punching and punching and punching. So, why? Why don’t you just stop?” Dalton stays silent causing Ben to exit like a toddler, anger blowing from his ears.

Dalton raises a brow. “Your brother, huh?” “I like to think I’m adopted.” The door opens and Knox strolls in with the bikers behind him. I watch as Knox scans the room making eye contact with me.

Knox strolls around, picking at two separate tables. “Hey, fellas. Looks like you’re havin’ a smashing night!” He swings the golf club smashing every bottle and glass off their table. Knox successfully starts the bar fight and chaos consumes the entire building.

“Dalton! Dalton! Dalton!” Knox screams as he scans the room. I stand up and walk towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Knox chuckled, lowering his head, our noses brushing. “A lot of shit. You wanna try to fix me?” His smirk grows.

“Dalton! Dalton!” On-demand, Dalton yells from the top of the steps. “What?” Knox looks over him as if inspecting. He tosses his head back. “This is the guy?” He asks me, I can see jealousy glowing in his eyes. “Leave him alone, Knox.”

He points to Dalton. “You know, I got sent here special. Just for you.” Dalton stays calm, taking a glance around the chaotic scene. “And you brought all your friends with you?” “I thought you might miss havin’ an audience. I was trying to be thoughtful. Like on pay-per-view. 25 quid. Watch me pulp your face!” Panic pumps through my veins. “You can’t fucking do this, Knox.”

Dalton stands a few feet away now. “You know this guy too?” Knox smirks and looks at me, waiting for my answer. “He’s my father��s employee.” Knox places his hand on his chest, acting like his feelings are damaged. “Aww come on, baby. Don’t be like that.“ He takes my chin between his fingers, his face inches from mine. “How do I know that you squeal when having your pussy eaten just, hm? Right here.” Knox sticks his hand down to my clothed crotch and pats my pelvic bone lightly. I gasp and move away from him. The act so bold in a public setting had my cheeks glowing red and a pool between my legs.

Dalton grabs Knox and shoves it away. “Don’t touch her, man.” Knox smiles at Dalton. “Nah, mate. You don’t get to touch her! SHE’S MINE!” Knox swings his club at Dalton hitting him in the stomach, before punching him and starting a brawl between the two.

I follow some of the bikers outside as they file out. “What the fuck was that?” I scream at Dell. “Stop it, (y/n). You know Brandt wants the road house.” I roll my eyes, “a shitty bar? For real?” I turn on my heel to walk back into the bar, but Knox catches my upper arm and pulls me to his car. “Let go of me, Knox.” He opened the passenger door and oh so helpfully assisted me in. “You and me. We’re going to have a little chit-chat.” He fumes. He’s angry. He flies off, tearing up gravel as he speeds out of the lot. He maneuvers through traffic, passing cars at high speed. “If you slow down we won’t live long enough to talk,” Knox smirks at me. “Ah baby, I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours, truly.”

Knox drifts into a lonely dock and slams the door as he gets out. “Let’s go.” Knox strips his shirt and shoes. I step out and lean against the front of the car, the sand damp on my feet.

Knox shakes his finger at me. “This ain’t you. Where’d my girl go?” I glare at him, “Maybe she’s back in Rome where you ditched her two years ago.” Knox, only a couple feet away smiles again. “All that? Baby you know your father had me running around for him.” “You left me alone with no explanation. You dipped that morning and never spoke to me again.” Knox nods, “Yeah, I did. That’s what your father told me to do.” “Yeah, and you always do what he says huh? Like a dog.”

Knox drops his smile. “And what have you been doing? You used to listen like a good girl. Now look at ya. Fucking around with these assholes.”

“Better than you.”

Knox grabs my arm pulling me to him. “Aww, now I see it. You’ve not been fucked real good in a long time. That it?” I raise my hand and slap him across the face. He pauses for a moment before a dark smirk grows across his lips. “There’s my tiger.”

Fuck it. This is toxic as hell.

I wrap my arms around his broad body, attacking his mouth. He holds me up, holding our bodies as close as possible. Our tongues battling, the passion seeping from each other's mouths. The clawing and scratching of our hands. He kisses down my neck, running his tongue over my collarbones. The hot breeze sticks to the moist surface. He pushes me back onto the hood of the car. “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, but first…” he flips the hem of my dress over my thighs, and separates them. “I need to taste ya.”

He kisses the soft skin of my inner thighs. A drunken state unraveled within me. Knox pulls my panties down, taking a look at my private. He nestled between my thighs, "Such a pretty cunt. How did I ever let you out of my sight?" The praises leaving his mouth caused me to gasp. I am unable to speak, unable to ask if he wanted to do this out here, on the beach, given any surprise visitor. All I could do was moan and arch my back onto the cold surface of the car. My heart was racing, blood rushing, toes being forced to curl.

His tongue brushed through my folds, collecting drops of the hot arousal. He moaned against my cunt, sucked on the pulsing bundle of nerves. “Knox," the call of his name made him chuckle against my skin. I had never known such pleasures besides him. I was already close to letting go, his mouth latching onto my clit, once again leaving me to arch her back off the hood. "Let go for me, darling."

With another breathy moan, I release, eyes rolling back into my head, fingernails about to claw stripes into the pain of the car. He lazily licked my slit for a few more seconds before he pulled away, moving up her body to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Knox, fuck me please," I whined, looking into his eyes, pleading. He smiled and followed my order within seconds.

My legs lay wide open for him to enter and while his hands hold my waist tightly. He shoved himself up my pussy with such an ease.

"You feel perfect, angel. Nothing changed." he moaned, his moves quickened fast. Noises of skin slapping against skin filled the area. "So fucking good" Knox panted in between harsh thrusts. My lower body just perfectly crashed together with his. I was in heaven as I felt myself coming closer and closer to my end. "I'm gonna cum." | whimpered so quietly that he could barely hear it. “You're the only man who can make me feel this good,” I whined, I was all his.

His movements grew slower, and he heavily breathed into my face. “You’re mine, (y/n).” I was so close, my body was burning. I nod breathlessly, “I’m all yours.” Waves of an orgasm beautifully crashed in, and it was only a matter of seconds before I would cum.

"Good girl." Knox panted and I knew he was about to cum. His hand wandered to my clit and circled it at a fast, pleasuring pace. That was it. I felt my orgasm finally coming in and I let out a loud moan. Knox growled into my neck and bit into my shoulder as he came right after me, releasing all of his warm cum inside me. He kept moaning and growling into my skin, both of us exhausted and in a blissful state. His body was limp on mine.

We laughed into each other's faces and after a moment of silence and just looked at each other. He moved over to his car, retrieving a blanket. “What are you doing?” I ask still lying in bliss. He spread the blanket on the sand. “A night under the stars. What do ya say, lass?” He picks me up and lays us down on the soft blanket. His hands went over my back, and it sent shivers down my spine. In this moment the world was perfect.

[galactickle]

Jealousy

James Maguire x reader

Summary: reader is jealous of james and katya, and becomes really good friends with david donnelly, but james thinks david and the reader are something more.

Masterlist

“Who is this?” Katya asks, her accent thick.

“Oh, that's just James,” Erin replies.

“You are handsome,” Katya says, “and also sexy.”

Everyone in the room was shocked by this revelation.

“Is her English not great?” Michelle asks.

Katya looks James up and down before getting up and kissing him.

The girls continued to make comments as you all watched them kiss, but you heard nothing they said. You had been secretly crushing on James for a little while, unbeknownst to your best friends, and the sight of him kissing the Ukrainian had you seeing red.

~~~

You were at Brennan's eating lunch with the gang. The girls were all fighting about something or other while you picked at your food silently, when Jenny showed up with her Ukrainian lad.

“Listen, I have a feeling Artem and a few of the others are a bit homesick,” Jenny explained, “It'd be nice for them to spend some time together. So I’m having a soiree at my place tonight. It's going to be great!”

Just then, Erin’s longtime crush and a good friend of yours, David, walks in. You were closer to David than the other girls, as your parents were friends with his.

He looks around the restaurant until he sees Jenny. “Hey, do you have the playlist for tonight then?” he shoots your group a smile and a nod.

Jenny hands him a piece of paper, “I'll need the sound system set up by 7.”

“Is your band playing at this thing?”

“Oh no, I just do a bit of DJing on the side.” he laughs and heads to order some food.

“On second thought, I think this party might be good for Katya,” Erin says to Jenny.

Just then you look up to see James and Katya making out right in the middle of the restaurant. You look down at your food in disgust, then excuse yourself to go to the washroom.

~~~

At the party, the first thing you saw when you walked in was David at his DJ stand, you waved hello to him before going to find your friends.

You mingled at the party a bit before you got tired of Erin freaking out about Katya taking James’ virginity. You found yourself hanging out with David, talking and drinking beer. David was cool and you enjoyed talking to him, it got your mind off of James for a bit… until you all heard a commotion upstairs, you followed David and the others to the stairwell, only catching the end of the argument.

“--How dare you? I am poor Ukrainian, so I must be prostitute!” Katya yells. You raise your eyebrows in shock.

Erin comes to address the crowd forming on the stairs, “Hear me out, first she comes on to James here. What would possess her?” you roll your eyes, “Financial gain, that's what!”

“He attractive boy, Erin.” Katya reasons.

“He's English, Katya.” Erin replies offhandedly.

“I have no problem with this.”

“You should,” Michelle butts in.

Erin continues yelling about the condoms in Katya's bag, and the money the Ukrainians have been giving her all evening.

“How the hell do you explain that?” Erin asks Katya in regards to the money.

“I organize, how you say it, whip round. We like to buy Jenny present to thank her for nice party.” Katya explains in her normal, but angry voice.

“Ohhh, you guys!!”Jenny replies sweetly.

Erin is left speechless, as is everyone else.

“So not only you insult me, but you've also spoiled Jenny’s surprise!” Katya adds.

“I think you should leave,” Jenny states. you sink back behind David in the crowd, not wanting to associate or even be seen by your friends. You could feel their eyes on you though, as they passed by in shame.

“You can still hang with me for the rest of the night,” David offered, you smiled slightly at him and nodded.

You spent the next little while drinking and talking, but David could tell you were a little off.

“So what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, taking a swig of your beer.

“You seem… distracted, sad even.”

“Nah, it's nothing,” you try to brush it off.

“Obviously it's not, so spill.”

“I… I.. have a wee bit of a crush on James…” you say with a pained look on your face.

David nods and hums in agreement. “So the whole Katya thing…?” he trails off.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.. that sucks, well, if it's any sentiment, he's gotta be into you too, because like every guy in Derry is into you,” He nudges you shoulder.

You laugh, “Yeah, OK.”

“It’s true!!” David chuckles.

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” you look around at the dwindling party, “Well… I should probably get going,” sigh, getting up from your spot on the floor.

“Want me to walk you home?” David offers, getting up as well.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks,” you smile at him as he sticks out his elbow for you to take.

The walk home is full of drunken giggles and nonsense.

When you reached your house, you turned to David to say thank you again, and, unbeknownst to you, James was looking out his window watching. He had been waiting to make sure you got home alright, after he realized you hadn't followed the group out of the party.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at David.

“No problem,” he replied, “we should hang out more.”

“I agree,” you laughed. You leant up on your tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, “Goodnight, David.” With that, you turned on your heel and walked into your house, David yelling ‘goodnight’ after you.

~~~

The next couple weeks, James didn't talk to you, which you didn't mind because you had been ignoring him before anyways. Plus now you were in a good mood due to your blooming friendship with David. It’s not that you had romantic feelings for him, but you did really like him, although you would never do something to hurt Erin.

The whole friend group watched in confusion as you and David became closer friends. After a couple weeks of silence James finally blew up.

“Why are you hanging out with him?” You were at Michelle’s house, you and James were alone in the kitchen getting drinks.

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“David, why do you keep hanging out with him?” James repeated.

“I don't know, he's nice and fun to be around..”

“So are we!” James countered.

“Fine. Why did you let Katya kiss you?”

“I--I..”

The girls had heard the commotion and came into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Erin asked.

No one said anything for a second..

“I saw Y/N kiss David Donnelley!” James exclaims. You gape at him.

“What?” The girls gasp.

“No! I didn't! I kissed him on the cheek-- which is a totally different thing! I was just saying thank you for walking me home!”

“How could you Y/N?” Orla asks, cradling Erin's head.

You shake your head, then turn and leave. James follows you outside, “So what? You're just gonna leave?”

“Yeah! Well, it doesn't feel like I’m welcomed there anymore!” you yell back, exasperated.

“Y/N!” you could hear a change in tone in James’ voice, was that desperation? “Wait! I've been a dick, I’m so sorry!”

You slowly turn towards him, “Yeah, you have been.”

“I’m sorry I just.. didn't like seeing you with him,” James reveals.

“How do you think I felt about Katya?” you say quietly.

James looks at you, confused, for a moment, “Wait-- you mean?” you nod in a response, smiling crookedly.

James runs forward, enveloping you in a hug, “I’m so sorry,” he whispers in your shoulder.

“Me too.” And your lips collide in the most beautiful kiss either of you have ever experienced

[141goblin]

Soft: Chapter three. John.

CW: Suggestive, John Price being a bit sneaky and manipulative. Slight possessiveness.

A/N: I had to write this one from John’s pov to fuel my silly little brain worms 🪱

—> Chapter two

I spend the early afternoon both getting ready and helping the boys set up in the mansion. Despite my protests, they were all adamant on throwing me this big, ridiculous party for my 40th birthday and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I put on a ridiculously expensive suit that i’ve hired for the evening and begin to greet my guests as they filter in, each of them giving me warm smiles, hugs, kisses on the cheek. None of it is of any interest to me, though. If i had my way, i’d be spending tonight in the local pub, eating good food and washing it down with one too many pints. Nevertheless, I do my best to look interested and actually make an effort to enjoy the night.

I’m doing my rounds of thanking everyone for coming, when I spot Johnny and his bird. Twiggy little thing, looks like she could be a supermodel. She’s pretty, sure, but hidden behind them like a lost puppy is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.

Big, soft woman, all wrapped in red silk, like my own personal birthday present. Pretty round face framed by a few loose curls, tits practically spilling out of her dress while the bottom half flows down her wide thighs and calves, accompanied by a pair of heels that look far too uncomfortable. Her big, blue eyes are looking around the room, taking in the sheer size of the place. Bless her, she looks like a child at Disneyland.

Johnny leads her over to the bar with his bird and I make a mental note of the drink in front of softie; blueberry martini. I’ll make sure the waiters keep them coming for her. Thing as sweet as her deserves as many sweet drinks as her little heart desires.

Johnny and his bird start making their way over to the rest of the lads and I see her hop up onto a barstool. Bloody fucking hell. Her perfect, round arse completely spills over the edge and her feet don’t quite reach the floor. I feel my cock twitch in my suit pants and I blink a few times to get rid of the image of the pretty, soft woman beneath me as I make her writhe and cry in pleasure, digging my fingertips into those plush hips of hers.

I make my way over to the group to get some information on her, a name, or something, anything. Either that or I keep calling her ‘sweet, soft thing’ forever. Fitting, I think. I greet the lads and give Johnny’s bird a curt nod. Got to be polite, but don’t wanna give her the impression I want her. I don’t. I want her sweeter, softer counterpart.

“Who’s your friend, Amelia?” I nod towards the bundle of sweetness wrapped in silk that’s got her pretty arse perched on a bar stool that’s far too small to accommodate her beauty.

“Oh.” Amelia chirps with a sympathetic smile in her direction.

“That’s my best friend. She didn’t really want to come here tonight, but we come as a package deal.”

I let my eyes linger for a second longer before giving Johnny a nod. He knows what to do and he immediately turns on his heels and makes his way over to the sweet thing. If there’s anyone that can convince a girl like her to join us, it’s Johnny. I see him flash his signature toothy grin and instantly know he’s working his magic. Good lad. Get her for me.

Within a few minutes of them chatting, she’s waking her pretty arse over to me. She stands there like a little girl, unsure of what to say or do. I want to scoop her into my arms and kiss her pretty round face silly, until there’s no doubt in her mind that she’s the most beautiful thing to ever grace this planet.

Not yet, John. You’ll scare the poor thing off. Got to get her first.

Just as i’m putting a collar around my desires to make the soft, round woman mine, she excuses herself, voice all soft and quiet. Shy little thing. I’ll work that out of you, Dove. I give her a minute to collect her thoughts before following her out, hands stuffed in his pockets. I have a plan, I need to stick to it and she’ll be mine before Christmas. Maybe even with a ring on her finger.

I see her sat on the bench outside the mansion. Poor thing looks defeated. Every single fibre of my being screams at me to touch her, comfort her, kiss her silly. Not yet, John…

“You alright, dove?” I ask, standing behind her. Even from behind and sitting down she looks beautiful. Messy curls cascading down her back, arse pressed against the stone bench. I spot the cigarette between her fingers. Didn’t peg you as a smoker, Dove. Bad habit, that. Gonna ruin your lovely lungs. Then again, i’m not one to speak. She wraps her lips around the stick of nicotine and sucks. In that moment, it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to rip it out from between her lips and replace it with my tongue. Or my cock. God, she’d look so pretty with a mouth full of me…

“Fine, thanks.” She replies. He response is short and clipped, probably a sign she doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t care. I want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.

I ignore her silent signal to be left alone and sit down beside her on the bench, my thigh pressed against hers as I hold a cigar idly between my fingers.

“Not a fan of parties like this, I take it?”

I want to know what kind of girl she is, what she’s into, what makes her tick. What’s her idea of a good night out? Is she the type that loves getting dolled up and drinking fruity cocktails all night? Does she prefer a night in? The burn at the base of my skull tells me I need to know.

“You could say that.”

There it is, we’re starting to get to the bottom of why she’s sat outside, sporting a frown on that pretty, freckled face of hers. I want her to like me, so naturally, I leave out the fact that this is my birthday party. I don’t want her to think i’m such rich ponce that throws parties in mansions, just for shits and giggles. That’s not who I am. If i’m going to make her mine, she deserves to know i’m not that kind of guy. From what I can tell, she’s not into those men.

“Mm, I get it. Not for everyone.”

It’s not like i’m lying to her. I’m just conveniently leaving out the details.

Something must’ve snapped in her pretty little head because she starts to rant, saying that parties like this are for ‘rich arseholes’ or something along those lines. In all honesty, I wasn’t listening. All the blood rushed from my head to my cock the second I saw the fire in her eyes. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fuck the attitude out of her or pepper gentle kisses all over her gorgeous neck while she rants.

When she finishes, I laugh, genuinely amused. The poor girl clearly isn’t having a good time and is taking comfort in me, blissfully unaware that it’s a party for me. I see her flushed face, anger mixed with embarrassment. I’d pay good money to see that face every day for the rest of my life. An idea pops up in my head and I store it away for later.

“Feel better, dove?” I ask, turning to look at her as she scowls out to the courtyard like she has a personal vendetta against grass itself. She gives me a little hum and I smile to myself.

I tell her i’ll be inside if she decides to stay, and leave her to her thoughts. Hopefully that little rant of hers helped her to cheer up. I can’t decide what I like better, her smile or her scowl. As I go back inside and see that people are now sitting down at their respective tables, I internally groan. It’s getting closer to my least favourite part of the night. The speech. I flag down the nearest waiter and shove a few ten-pound-notes into his hand.

“When the lady in the red silk dress comes back inside, the one sat at that table,” I point to where Johnny and Amelia are sitting.

“Bring her a blueberry martini, and keep them coming. Thanks, mate.”

The waiter gives a curt nod and scarpers off to retrieve the drink from the bartender once more. I come to a decision as I wait to make my speech. I need to see that face of hers again, all rosy and wide-eyed. This should be fun.

I get up on stage and gather everyone’s attention, thanking my room full of guests for coming to my party (even though I didn’t want the party in the first place, it doesn’t hurt to be polite). Then, when i’m certain I have the attention of my dove, the fun begins.

“Here’s to us rich arseholes, at least pretend to be on your best behaviour, eh? Here’s to a good night.”

I raise my glass of whiskey and the room erupts in laughter and amused cheers. My focus is on one person, and one person only. And, by the looks of it, my birthday wish just came true. Soft little things sat there, face bright red, practically melting in her seat from the sheer embarrassment. Might’ve been a bit cruel, but worth it to see the look on her face.

After another hour or so of mingling and small-talk with people I don’t care for, I see my soft girl make her way over to the bar. She orders another one of those blueberry martinis she loves so much. Silly girl, I paid a man to bring them to you. Then, a glass of water is placed in front of her, too. Good girl. Smart decision. Amelia seems to have some sort of girls sixth sense because she makes her way over looking like a concerned mother. I watch them for a few seconds and then Amelia makes her way back over to us.

“We’re gonna call it a night.”

All the lads give her a hug goodbye and I take this as my chance to catch my sweet soft girl before she goes home. I see her sitting on the same bench as before, looking equally as defeated.

“Leaving so soon, dove?”

She seems to jolt a little at the sound of my voice. Jumpy little thing. I wont hurt you, sweet girl.

“Afraid so… Past my bedtime.”

She’s funny, too? God, she’s perfect. I let out a laugh, and her round little face blushes and she shivers. Poor thing must be freezing. I take off my suit jacket and drape it around her shoulders, almost testing the waters, but I can play it off as being chivalrous. My jacket basically swallows her form, despite the fact that she’s a wide, beautifully plump thing.

“Hm. Shame. I quite enjoyed that little rant of yours.”

She pauses for a few seconds, and I can practically hear the cogs turning in her pretty head. She turns to face me, brows furrowed and her bottom lip stuck between her teeth.

“Listen, about that-“

She’s about to apologise, I can feel it. And I can’t let her. This beautiful, soft girl can do no wrong in my eyes.

“No need to apologise, dove. I liked the honesty. Not often I find a soft, beautiful thing like you with such fire in her.”

Ha, there it is. She freezes, her brain trying to compute if she just heard me right. It’s funny to watch the cogs turn as he comprehends being complimented. I’m going to compliment you until you can think straight, perfect girl. Before she can say anything, Amelia is grabbing her by the hand and pulling her into an uber, while my pretty girl keeps her eyes on me, even looking back as the car drives off.

Luckily, I managed to pull some strings and get Johnny to sneak onto Amelia’s phone to get me my pretty girls number. I make a mental note to text her later. Might even use my jacket as an excuse to see her pretty, round face again.

I wonder what she’ll be doing when she gets home, changing into some cute little pyjamas, or maybe even running a hot bath and lowering herself into it, her tits and perfect, soft belly sticking out over the water level.

Tags: @izziyuwh @a66-1

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven In Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Beaten with guilt and shame after losing his temper again, Arthur's aimless wandering leads him to church. There she is and, after diving into her heavenly eyes, he is convinced God has sent him His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul.

Words: 2.6k

TW: Blood, a bit of angst, slight blasphemy and bad use of holy water, reckless x caretaker Inspired by the prompt "Where does it hurt? - Everywhere" by @the-three-whumpeteers

Notes:

✞ Timeline: between seasons 2 and 3

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here). Heaven’s voice and song is linked, all you have to do is click on the lyrics.

NEXT CHAPTER || Masterlist

The stumbling tall silhouette of Arthur Shelby was crossing through the thick haunting mist of Birmingham. As unwelcoming the town was during the day, it was nothing compared to night time. When sun faded behind the horizon, chased by the pale glowing face of the moon, the whole city turned into a cut-throat area. Arthur brought the neck of the bottle he was holding to his chapped lips and gulped down a mouthful of pure Irish whisky. The fire trail the beverage left behind it as it went down his throat reminded him he was alive — he could still feel something, even though it was the alcohol’s burning. An animal growl escaped from his lips when the bottle left them only for him to lean his back against one of the church’s gigantic concrete walls. A loud raven’s croak torn the silent veil of the night, making him swears. The gravel in his voice answered to the dull bird, which was watching him from a tree with his tiny and beady eyes.

« Fooking bird, laughing at me like the rest of ‘em eh? »

The raven — which was rather large for a bird — tilted its head to the side and kept staring at the drunk man with a cunning interest. Its black eyes, shining under the moonlight, seemed filled with both a wise glare and a mocking sparkle. Soon, Arthur’s curiosity for the raven’s unusual behavior turned into a senseless anger when he understood why the bird was focusing on him, his explosive rage strengthened by the incredible amount of alcohol he had drunk a bit earlier.

« It’s the damn blood is it? Stop lookin’ at me like I’m — I’m some kind of monster, or a beast or I don’t fookin’ know what else! Go to Hell! »

The bottle flew towards the raven but it did not flicker, as if it knew Arthur was not in the shape of being quick nor particularly precise with aiming. As the glass smashed into the ground, Arthur hit the wall behind him with the back of his head and let out a frustrated scream. No more cocaine, no more auto destructive behavior nor suicide attempts for two years straight, and tonight he fucked it all up. He was convinced he could get better, and God knows he tried his best to do so. Got sober from every poison he used to take, got a religious wife that was trying to turn the wolf in him into a sheep… Hell, he even brought her flowers every damn day. But then came troubles, taking the shape of his little brother, Thomas Shelby.

He asked him to do the dirty job — again.

With his calloused hands, he took another man’s life. At first Arthur thought he would not be that disturbed at the idea of killing someone, after all he had done that almost his entire life. Just one last time, he told himself, just one last time and I’ll go back to my little peaceful life with me wife.

Yet, the guilt and the shame that struck him after bashing the lad’s head against the edge of a sink until his face became a pile of squishy flesh soon became too much to handle.

As the last spurt of blood spattered his face, Arthur’s clouded mind became suddenly crystal clear: it would never stop. After that epiphany, the older Shelby brother contemplated how everyone he deeply loved tended to use him. For Thomas and the rest of the family he was a mad dog, the combat brute whose only times he could enjoy life without a muzzle were when he had to rip someone’s throat apart. For his father, he had been nothing else than a poor naive hound that would have done anything to receive his respect. As for Linda, her love was a cruel mirage he wanted to believe with all his heart — but the illusion had vanished in smoke. Whether she considered him as her personal test subject for Christian brainwashing or as a tool to get what she wants, Arthur could not tell. What he could tell though was that he knew she did not really loved him. She wanted to mould him at her will, but he was no lamb. He was a wolf, a beaten and lonely wolf, but still one. And there was no love for rabid wolves, only a bullet through the brain to cure the madness.

As his skull buzzed with macabre thoughts, whose unpleasant noise reminded him of a furious beehive, a bewitching voice pulled him out of his auto-destructive spiraling. Standing at attention and listening carefully, he came to realize that someone was singing inside the church. Arthur’s eyelids fell on his steel blue eyes and the back of his head gently rested against the cold wall behind him, the same wall he had been previously smashing it with. A sighed escaped from his liquored lips as the angelic and hypnotizing voice, slightly muffled by the church’s heavy wooden doors, plunged him into a soft but oh-so-warm haze.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold…

Lulled by the sad melody carried away with Birmingham’s cold night breeze, the swarm of raging hornets in Arthur’s brain stopped crashing against the bony walls of his skull. Another sigh — one of relief this time, for the unbearable noisy thoughts and violent buzzing had vanished. His trembling fingers, numbed by the blows he had hit his target with one hour ago and still covered with half-dried blood, slid along his temples and slicked his hair back. The utter and feral anger he had felt was reduced to void, for even his old heart had slowed its pace down in his ribcage.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

The tune, embedded with melancholy, soothed his troubled mind and to be honest, he could barely believe it. When that switch in his brain flipped, God knew he was not in control anymore - even dear Linda, who still managed to hush down some of his tantrums, could not tame the beast inside when it broke free a bit more fiercely than usual. Yet, this voice did so. This stranger, faceless and nameless ghost of the night, brought him back to sanity with the sole power of her voice. The words she was singing, with her a juvenile and enchanting tone, were wrapping his heart. Arthur sniffed and fought hard against the dawning tears that were forming delicate crystal beads at the corner of his closed eyes.

If he had been the jolly sailor bold, he would have thrown himself out of the boat to join the siren that was singing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold…

She repeated, sadder than she previously sang.

Her song sipped through his heart and filled the cracks with molten gold. Arthur’s lips stretched in an almost invisible grin without even realizing it — By her voice, he was convinced she could repair the damaged creatures like him and make them even more beautiful than they were before they had been dragged through the trenches’ mud and shit. He had barely came to his senses, almost miraculously sobered up, when silent fell again in the church. Arthur reopened his eyes, and shook his head - Had he dreamt? Had it been the whiskey singing to him? No, he could not be that crazy right? Not quite sure if he was starting to hear voices and see things, Shelby decided that he had to found out who had been singing to his very own soul. He wanted to see her, the girl who soothed his foul heart and his twisted mind. He wanted to know, no, he HAD to know, even though his whole being was fragile like a flickering candle flame caught in a hurricane and would probably shatter in million of pieces if she turned out to be an illusion.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Arthur grabbed the handle and opened the church’s door.

[…]

A shiver ran down your delicate spine at the loud silence that floated in the gigantic and empty church. The peculiar sweet yet strong scent of myrrh, wood and frankincense filled your lungs with its holy fragrance. The vibrations of the last word you sang was still echoing in the room, swirling to the high and sculpted ceiling, from which marble angels were watching over you. If someone would have told you two years ago that the only place you would find comfort would be a church, you would not have believe it. You had never been particularly fervent about religion, but you did believe in higher forces whether they were good or bad. More than a matter of faith, the church itself was an old friend of yours. A gargantuan friend of stone, holy titan always welcoming you even in the darkest moments of your life. What you liked the most were these lonely moments at night, during which you could light up dozen of candles and sing your sorrow to the status and colorful stained-glass windows. No gossip from the parish, no believers swarming like ants within these mighty walls. There were just you, the candle lights and the soothing silence. For a few hours, you could finally find peace.

Brushing the varnished wood of the altar with your thin fingers and painted-red nails, you let your mind drift and, suddenly, the world around you vanished. You sunk so deep in the abyss of your thoughts that you did not hear the creaking sound of the heavy door opening, nor the footsteps that followed. All you could heard were the « Burn witch, burn! » that hundred of villagers screamed at you in the woeful remembrance of your past. And in spite of your immaculate porcelain skin, you bore the scars of their words deep in your soul.

[…]

Arthur made a few steps before freezing, his body refusing to come closer as if the aura around the creature that was standing back to him , right in front of the altar lightened up with dozen and dozen of small dancing flames, was too sanctified to be violated. Bathed in the soft and warm orange hue of candles, the long white hair of the woman fell down the small of her back like an ivory waterfall. Right above her the pale glow of the full moon coming through the stained-glass window formed a luminous halo around her head.

His breathing stopped, choking in his throat at such a divine vision. The gangster opened his mouth to speak but no words managed to come out. He had never been good with words anyway. Instead he moistened his lips and swallowed, his mouth dry. The white-haired girl had started to hum the same song she had been singing a bit earlier, not aware of his presence — and he did not dare to disturbing her as if he feared God’s punishment. He took another step, the wooden floor creaking under his sole.

This time the angel — because he was convinced it was one — jumped and turned around, an expression of utter surprise veiling her sweet face. Her fox eyes, adorned with two iris so fair it reminded him of aquamarine stones, scrutinized his slightest movements. She remained petrified for what felt eternity for her but, regarding him, time had stopped for good. Arthur finally inhaled sharply, coming back to life.

All those endless nights of crying, all those endless nights of praying in vain for something or someone to save him, and here you were… His salvation.

He had asked God to send him, the most desperate sinner of all, His most beautiful Angel and He had done so.

She was not just pretty. She was otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Almost ethereal in her short white dress whose cut let her naked back for the world to see.

« I waited for ya. » He whispered.

She blinked, her full and juicy lips opening with surprise.

He stuttered, looking down and decided it was better for you if he stopped talking. The gravel in his hoarse voice, as strong as it was, sounded indescribably frail. As if this tall and slightly threatening man could shatter at your single touch. Now he felt stupid, clumsy with words contrary to Tommy and his naturally eloquent and charismatic speech. In addition to the unpleasant impression of being a fool, Arthur’s own whisky-scented breath and the strong metallic smell of blood reminded him of his horrific appearance. Overcoming the awe you infused in him, panic started to kick.

You frowned, and all of sudden he did not look that impressive anymore. Swept away by the wind, your face relaxed and wrapped itself with a calm, almost placid expression. You exhaled through your nose and walked towards the gangster, who had brought his bloody hands to each side of his head and was now pulling his own hair in a desperate attempt to not lose track.

« Where does it hurt? » You asked with a quiet and soothing tone, for you were concerned about all the blood he was covered with.

Arthur raised his gaze toward the petite white-haired doll who had just pressed one of her cold little hands on his. Your ice against his fire made his legs weak and his heart missed a beat. How his breathing calmed down at your touch was a mystery, but it did. Not quite comprehending why you did not seem scared of him, he stuttered again, all flustered.

« Shhh, shhhh. Everything’s okay, take a deep breath and answer with all the time you need. » Your hand gently tightened its grip, willing to show him you were there and you were not going anywhere until he feels better.

« Where does it hurt? »

« Ev-Everywhere love. It hurts everywhere. »

His hands, his face, his body, his brain, his soul, his damn tortured soul… It all ached too much, and too constantly for him to bear anymore. E-ve-ry-where, that was all he could say because pain was all he could feel.

Without answering, you pulled him to the altar and invited him to sit on the marble stairs. The strong and fierce gangster followed you without the single physical resistance and gave in between your hands, as a rag doll. All he did was looking at you with his charming but oh-so-exhausted blue eyes as you tore the fabric of your dress near your thighs and soaked it in holy water.

« Let me wash away the blood. » Your voice echoed in the vastness of the church, enticing and haunting at the same time — enough to send a pleasant shiver down his spine. You had barely finished your sentence when you started rubbing the wet cloth against his hollow cheek to clean his pale skin from the dark red blood. Once again, he could not help watching you during the whole ordeal all the while enjoying the fresh sensation of the holy water cleansing the dirt of his soul. Not minding his stare filled with fascination, you focused on your task, brows slightly furrowed and fingers blessing him with the softest and most caring touch someone had given him.

« Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh. »

You quickly glanced at him, a sparkle of amusement shining in your cunning celeste blue eyes, before looking back at what you were doing. The weight of his gaze brought fire to your cheeks, for he looked at you like he had just realized what love was.

He looked at you, and to his greatest surprise, found Heaven in your eyes.

I'm super new in the Peaky Blinders fandom, so please bear with me... Especially since English is not my native language. To be honest I am kind of scared to post it so any comment, review, reblog or constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I'll be more than happy to meet people in the Peaky Blinders fandom! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed some Arthur and Heaven. Still don’t know if I’ll write a full series or snipets of these two love birds.

Tags: @areyenotfondofmelobster

[bisexual-apocalypse]

Stressful Situations

Hello! The fic below the cut was written by the lovely @suueeeeeee ! They messaged me asking if I would be willing to edit and post this for them and after reading this delightful fic I had to say yes!

To the 2 people who requested fics! They are in the works but may take a little longer as I'm leaving for the weekend! Thank you so much for the love and support y'all!!

It was yet another day, another rehearsal and another stressful session of Andrew and the band trying their best to make sure they’re all set for today’s concert.

Ever since (y/n) had started to accompany Andrew on tour, she’s been nothing but a delight in everyone’s eyes. She made sure they all ate, stayed hydrated, and well-rested and genuinely cared for them as if she was their mother.

She sat down on the side watching them with those eyes that said ‘I’m so fucking proud’. She enjoyed every part of this tour, everything about it made her happy. She loved Andrew and therefore watching him do what really makes him happy tickled her insides and made her all giddy.

She noticed how on edge he was today, and how he was taking it out on everyone else. She felt bad for everyone but she bad for him specifically. Poor lad’s been extremely tired and exhausted. Anyone would be the same if they’d been touring nonstop for almost 2 months now, and having to put so much energy into shows every couple of days.

She felt bad for Andrew but also for the band, they were trying their best but for some reason something was messed up every now and then which resulted in Andrew cursing loudly, not at anyone in particular but just out of frustration.

She sighed and got up, heading towards him. She placed a hand on his back, stroking it softly.

“Love, take it easy, don’t stress yourself much, it’ll be okay.”

She says with a soft smile attempting to comfort him and calm him down a little bit. She felt a vein was about to pop in his forehead and he’d get a headache from frowning so much. He looked up at her with a blank expression.

“(Y/n), please. The last thing I need is distractions. Don’t tell me what to do, we have shit to get done.”

He snapped at her and this was the first time within their 9 month relationship that he had done something like this. She was taken back a little. This attitude definitely was weird cause Andrew never behaved this way even in times he was stressed out the most. She gulped and nodded her head, fighting off the tears.

“Yes yes, of course. I apologize, ehm- I’ll just wait in one of the dressing rooms, sorry guys.”

She looks at them with a sad smile and Alex turns to Andrew with the angriest glare.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

Alex spit at Andrew and slung off his guitar then followed her immediately. They weren’t particularly close but he appreciated her taking care of Andrew and of the whole band. The woman was sweet and kind and it hurt him to see Andrew speak to her that way. He ran after her and he could see her shoulders shaking which confirmed his thoughts that she was crying.

“(Y/n/n), wait.”

He calls for her by her nickname and places a hand on her shoulder. She turns around to look at him with teary eyes and a wet face. She wipes her eyes quickly and sniffs not wanting to seem weak or like a crybaby. He just takes her in for a hug.

“He didn’t mean it, you know he’s crazy about you, but he’s just stressed. It’s not an excuse though. You have every right to be upset just don’t take it to seriously, okay? I’ll kick his ass.”

She pulls back, chuckling a little then nods her head with a sigh.

“I know, Alex. I’m not upset with him, I’m just upset for him. He’s been so exhausted and it’s starting to take a toll on him. I’ll just give him some time. Maybe after tonight’s show he’ll feel a little less stressed.”

Alex blinks at her and wonders how the fuck someone could be this peaceful and kind. Now, Alex was 10x angrier with Andrew for hurting her feelings and he intended to give him a piece of his mind but after tonight’s show. He softly rubs her shoulder.

“Just go get yourself something to drink and don’t think about it much, I’m sure he’ll apologize in no time.”

She nodded and thanked Alex and walks away, but it was obvious she was still upset. He sighed and walked back to the main stage area to find Andrew still strumming the guitar with the same frown except it was now deeper. The tension was too thick and the vibes were really bad unlike how it would normally be. He picked up his guitar again and when Andrew noticed they started rehearsing again.

———————————————————-

One time while performing, Andrew finished his water bottle and he kept on looking around for someone to refill it for him but for some reason everyone was busy with technical difficulties going on so she took it upon herself to get him another water bottle. She didn’t think much of walking on stage as she just wanted to get Andrew his water cause poor thing’s vocal cords must’ve been screaming for help.

When she walked on stage, everyone was confused, including Andrew himself. She handed him the water bottle, took the empty one with a smile. His heart exploded at that moment and he instantly reached out and hugged her which caused her to blush deeply. He was openly hugging her in front of everyone, which was something she wasn’t used to, which also caused the fans to go crazy for that moment. After he let go, she ran backstage, but ever since that moment, (Y/n) made an appearance every concert when handing Andy his water bottle which was always thanked by a side hug.

Andrew was thinking to himself, would she do their ritual tonight even though he was a total ass towards her? He openly admitted to himself that he was mean and rude towards her, but his energy lately had been so low. He’s starting to get exhausted from the constant traveling and performing. Therefore, he decided to get her some flowers and take her out for dinner after they’re done with the show. However, he was upset at the fact that there’ll be no water bottle from her tonight which will get the fans talking and it’ll just create a hassle he’s in no mood for.

Much to his surprise, amidst his performance, he heard loud screams and cheers which confused until he felt someone place a water bottle down on the floor in front of him and he looked and saw his beautiful partner. She looked up at him with a tight smile then walked back. At this point, his heart exploded with so much love for that woman and his love for her grew a million times.

——————————————————-

The show was an absolute success, the vibes were very nice despite everything happening prior to the performance and everyone was happy with how everything came out.

Everyone was putting their things back in place and was making sure they’re all set to retire to their rooms to relax after a long, stressful and emotionally draining day.

Meanwhile, (y/n) was in the tour bus, packing a small backpack to spend the night in a hotel. She kept reminding herself that he never meant it and it was his tired mind talking but she just couldn’t accept the fact that someone spoke to her that way in front of the whole band. Had they been alone, she would have just ignored it, joked about it and teased him until he became less grumpy but the fact that he snapped at her like that, for some, reason felt humiliating.

She walked out of the tour bus when Alex was going in. He saw her bag then frowned.

“Where are you going? It’s late.”

He asked her, feeling genuinely worried. He started thinking the worst. Is she going to leave Andrew? Is she going to fly back to Dublin for a break? She was the one mostly keeping their times fun on this exhausting tour leg and particularly keeping Andrew’s strength to keep going despite the exhaustion.

She sighs, looking away, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m spending the night in the hotel around the corner, Alex. I don’t think I could be around Andrew tonight. I might say something I regret and make things worse.”

“Did you at least let him know?” He knows he can’t change her mind but he also thought this was a good solution cause as chill as they both seemed to be. When they get angry, they’re monsters.

“Well- that’s going to be your job. Don’t you dare tell him where I am, Alex. Just tell him I’m fine. Let me torture him a little.”

She grins evilly and Alex lets out a laugh. That was her typical behavior, managing to make fun and humor out of dark situations.

“Alright, but let me know when you check in and come back first thing in the morning.” He pulls her in for hug then lets her go before watching her walk away.

————————————————————

She got settled in and changed into her night shirt, getting into bed. She decided to scroll down through instagram for a little, seeing that Andrew posted snippets from today’s concert as he does every time. She liked them but it was obvious to her that he wasn’t really in his normal state. She pouted, starting to feel guilty for leaving him when he’s feeling like this. She was supposed to support him through everything and the first time he does something like this, she reacts like this? Then again, he was rude towards her in front of other people. Her mind was racing with thoughts and she was feeling as if she was drowning in this dilemma when she heard knocking at the door.

She curses to herself, knowing it’s probably Andrew, cause Alex couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Deep inside, she was hoping he’d come to her. When she peaked through the door, it indeed was the one and only Andre Hozier-Byrne. She sighs, opening the door and steps to the side, nodding for him to come inside.

He walks in silently and she sees the flowers in his hands. He got her Verbenas, her favorite. He clears his throat and hands them to her.

“Ehm- I got you these.”

Truth be told, he didn’t know what to say, as the situation was awkward and it was the first time they'd dealt with something like this. They both were really chill and peaceful, when they disagree about something they just leave it and agree to disagree without forcing their own views on each other or anything like that. They both always treated each other with respect whether they were alone or with other people. She accepts the flowers, placing them on the bed next to her where she sits as he takes a seat in front of her on the small sofa.

“Love, I’m incredibly sorry. I know what I did was wrong, but I’m just so down, exhausted. I don’t feel the best. I know that this isn’t an excuse and you have every right to be mad, but please, don’t leave me.”

She could hear the desperation in his voice and she looks at him, surprised.

“Andrew, are you insane? Why the fuck would I leave you? Yes, I’m upset. I understand your point, but still upset. For you to apologise and acknowledge your mistake is more than enough. It’d take much much more than this for me to leave you. You’re stuck with me.”

She grins, sitting next him and taking him into her arms. He cuddles against her, resting his head on her chest, enjoying the feeling of her fingers combing through his hair. This was the only thing he needed. To be alone with his beloved after a long day, wrapped around each other.

[nana-71926]

Author's Notes: Heyyy~~!! Here is the new vampire fic, as promised, and in time for Halloween! I'm having a moment with Interview with the Vampire (TV series 2022) and thought we might play around with the lads as vampire rock stars ala Lestat. XD Let's see where this will lead us. Wish the Muse luck and comments are greatly appreciated as always! Enjoy!

Excerpt:

“Whatever happens, don’t forget we’ve got a wager going on regarding those two,” said Deacy, refusing to be deterred. “I did register my disapproval for this match from the very start, I hope you remember. It doesn’t get more star-crossed than this, and with no offense to Brian. It’s all Roger’s doing.”

“Well, it has been building yet again between them these last three, four years, hasn’t it?” said Freddie as they watched Brian moving around the room like a shark underwater, brows knitted but still gamely trying for conversation with whoever happened to be in his way as he went about looking for their drummer. “But as to whether they will finally come to blows and break up permanently— it’s too early to say. After all, their last break up was just after the war and they didn’t speak for almost two decades. They still have not caught up with each other entirely, you know.”

“Our initial wager,” said Deacy, “is as to whether Roger might finally come to regret turning Brian all those years ago. I have a feeling he might, after tonight.”

“I shall reinforce my stand and say they won’t, then,” said Freddie confidently. "Come, love. Our guests await. Let’s not be seen in a corner, whispering to each other the whole night long. We’ll take a turn about the room and see if we can catch the two gits at it at one point or other.”

Buy the Muse some ko-fi to show her some love (and to make her write faster!) ^_~

[cozzzynook]

Cozzzy

Sympatico

Percy met Brainstorm (doesn't have his mallet yet) one night at Maccadam's.

He got out of work, a long cycle in the lab doing research for new sources of fuels for Metroplex, so he needed some relaxing time. So why not take a glass at the bar?

One, two, and at his third of the night, he was already a bit drunk, not used to do this very often. Two mechs of the bar notice him and try to get into his panels. Percy refuses, telling them to frag off, he wasn't going to come with them in their hotel room, but the two mechs insist. After refusing countless times, one of them grab him by the waist and try to make him stand to litteraly botnapping him.

His partner suddenly falls to the ground after a loud BANG, and the one holding Perceptor is tackle to the ground.

Before Perceptor can even fall to the ground, a bot catches him. He looks up at the mech, a yellow masked face plate and a visible jet alt-mode.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Perceptor, being half drunk, still process what just happened.

"Who are you ? And what did you do?"

"Oh well, i just entered the bar when i saw them harrassing you. Couldn't let them keep doing their awful stuff could i? And the name is Brainstorm, true genius amongst my kind."

Perceptor looks at him unphased.

"Well thank you Brainstern, but i could handle it myself... don't need help from a twink like you..."

"Ah, i see you are drunk. It's okay, you didn't hurt my feelings, i'm completly fine. But you are not. Let's get you to your home. Can you walk ?"

It's at this moment Perceptor really notice that Brainstorm is keeping him stiddy, his arms under his armpits without touching anything else with his servos. Percu tries to let him go, saying he can totally walk by himself, when he actually couldn't. So Brainstorm convinces him to help him to his appartment.

On the way, the engex got into his processor more than he thought and Brainstorm had to carry him princess style.

They arrive at the scientific aera of the city and Brainstorm was amazed. He never knew there were quarters made for scientists.

Brainstorm may be a sciences genius, but he was never recognise as one. Due to his MTO status, he would never be able to work in anything else than the army as a simple soldier. He suffered from this condition, but at least, he could always make his little experiences in the back of his officers. Guns, explosive devices, and the one he is currently working on is a new kind of fuel. And he was about to create a perfectly working formula. That detail attrcted Percy's interest. Brainstorm tells him he built by himself a little lad in the underground of his base, only known by him. Everytime he has some free time, he goes there and do sciences.

They arrive at Percy's appartment, and Brainstorm politely decline to enter, putting the scientist down and ready to leave. But Percy insists, and tell him he could work with him secretly.

"It is a very kind proposition, but i'd like to make myself a name. I don't know how yet, but i will."

And on this, Brainstorm left, waving his goodbyes.

Percy went to lay in his sofa, somewjat sad that the jet had left. He couldn't let that one leave him.

And it clicks. He can't have Brainstorm leave him. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know how. He just want the mech by his sides, at least for tonight.

So he rushes out, impressed he can walk with his foggy mind, and catches the jet before he could exit the building. He had his servo on the exit code panel.

"Don't leave me."

Brainstorm looks at him surprised, and a silence installs between them, staring at each other.

"Stay. At least for tonight."

Percy looks at the mech he has in front of him, finally seeing him. A slim turquoise frame, a long cockpit on his chest, two pairs of wings, and yellow optics. Percy doesn't remember if he had ever seen yellow optics before. At this moment He only knows those ones.

"Why would you want a stranger to stay?"

It was a genuine question. Yeah, why does Percy wants him to stay?

"I don't know. But please. Stay."

They look at each others in silence. Then Brainstorm let go of the panel code and approach him, ready to follow his back to his unit.

"You are drunk. You don't know what you say."

"I do know what i want."

Together they go back to the unit. And there, when the door is closed, they stare at each other again. But Brainstorm slowly take off his mask.

"I don't think you want that" pointing at his face.

"What makes you think i don't want that?".

Perceptor approach him and without thinking much he goes on his tip toes and give his dermas a long, delicate kiss. Brainstorm doesn't respond, too shocked to have the scientist right there.

"You..."

"Is it okay?"

Brainstorm looks at Perceptor baffled.

"You are drunk, i don't want to take over. You don't know what you are doing."

"Yeah... you're right, i'm sorry... can... can we cuddle? I still want you by my side. For tonight."

Brainstorm think, then accept, on the condition that he will not engage in anything sexual during the time Perceptor is still drunk.

So they lay in the sofa, entagled in each other's embrace, watching a movie. Perceptor falls into recharge, so Brainstorm turns off the TV and decide to stay by his side, for him to not wake up alone and cold. He traps Percy's body between his arms, his chin resting on his helm and slowly his frame goes into reset.

Tadaaaaaam!!

Remember people : never ingage in sexual intercourse while drunk ! It is not responsable and can be dangerous ! Stay safe !

😍😍 you can splurge your ideas/thoughts in my inbox anytime you want 😍😍