#hes just young and very forward. very blunt too if he wants a kiss he will inform and then take ... hes tryinggggg ....

[dangaer]

shi.n's amnesia later route is such an out of character experience bc wdym someone this cute shows me all the love they have for me and i dont healthily communicate with him that im feeling overwhelmed by it.

[kmhappybunny240]

The French Nurse

Chapter 6

Hope you all enjoy.

Arrow house was a large looming mansion that scared Olivia a little. Why would he ever buy a home so ugly. Peter told her how well off Tommy had become but the property looked like it had been in a duke or a Lord's family for generations. It had been obvious Tommy has change drastically over the years and she didn't know if she likes who he has become. She started to think Arrow house reflected how he felt on the inside.

Olivia turned off the car and gathered her purse and the two cakes next to her.

"Will you grab the cookie box for me sweetheart ?"

" of course mama. "

Olivia and Oscar exited the car and made their way to the front door. She had to park at the end of a long line of very expensive cars. As they got closer she could hear the ruckus going on inside. Polly did say it was a family dinner.She didn't think the entire family. She didn't know how the others felt about her and Oscar. The biggest worry was Grace.

It didn't matter how much reassurance Tommy gave her , she didn't want to ruin their relationship. She didn't want to create a situation where Tommy would feel like he had to choice between his relationship with Grace or a relationship with his son. Peter told her he felt odd about and she wanted to confirm his suspicions but felt like a gossip. She wanted to find the good in Grace, it was a difficult too but she was put in a terrible position by that inspector. Right ?

They got to the front door and Olivia banged on it several times. She was about to tuck tail and run but a young woman opened the door. She was medium height with perfectly styled brown hair. She wore a modest yet expensive dress. The woman looked Olivia up and down. When they made eye contact , Olivia knew she was a Shelby.

"Who are you?" The woman was blunt.

" I'm Olivia . "

"Oh goodness please come in." She rushed them in and she took the cakes out of Olivia hands.

" I'm Ada , Tommy's"

"Sister." Olivia interrupted before she could finish .

Ada had a friendly smile and bright eyes.

"Sorry. Tommy told me so many stories of you all. I feel like I know you already."

Ada couldn't of been happier. She hated being the only girl and wanted a sister growing up. She was thankful for sister in laws. Well for Esme and Jenna. Grace was still undecided. A maid walked by and Ada handed the cakes to her. Ada heard a small voice and took her by surprise. In all the excitement she didn't notice that Olivia had a little boy with her. Her newest nephew.

"N'obliez pas les biscuits maman."

(Don't forget the cookies mama.)

"Oh right. Here you go." Olivia gave the box to the maid. Ada crouched down in front of Oscar and set her hand out to shake.

" I'm your auntie Ada. What is your name ? "

Oscar looked at Ada with caution. His mama debrief him about his father and the extended family , he wanted to give her a hug but was nervous. He held on to one of Olivia legs and stuck out his other hand to give Ada a formal hand shake.

"I'm Oscar Shelby miss Ada."

Olivia rubbed his back and pushed him forward some. She taught him to always have manners but she could see he was nervous. She didn't want him to hide behind her skirt all night.

"You can hug her. She is family. Go on ."

Oscar took one last assessment of his aunt and decided she looked friendly enough. He threw his arms around her neck and felt emotional. He wanted to cry but he wasn't sad. His mama called them happy tears. He could feel the love radiating off aunt Ada. He buried his face in her neck and squeezed her. He never wanted to let go.

" It's nice to meet you Oscar. Please just call me aunt Ada alright. "

Ada pulled him back and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. She was in love with this beautiful little boy. He was a mini Tommy for sure and knew he would have fun with Karl and the others.

Ada picked up her nephew and took him and Olivia to the living room. It was filled with chaos. Children were running around while the adults were clearly tipsy. Olivia could see Tommy in the corner with a beautiful blonde exchanging in a heated conversation. She was beautiful. Her hair was in perfect finger waves , her make up accented her soft facial features ,and her dress fit her body like a glove. The way Tommy caressed the blonde's left forearm and the glint of a diamond ring , it was obvious who she was . Grace , his perfect fiance.

Olivia stomach dropped. She shouldn't be feeling this way but she did. Tommy was touching another woman. He had every right to since they were to be married , she knew that, seeing them in person made it real. She didn't anticipate that.

Ada loudly whistled. "Oi Tom."

The whole room silenced and turned towards them. Tommy gently put Grace hand back on to her lap and rushed over to them. Olivia saw he was jumpy like a Jack rabbit. She said one last prayer under her breathe for this evening to go smoothly.

"Papa !" Oscar crashed into Tommy and he threw the little boy in the air . Tommy held Oscar close and hugged him. He last seen his boy only three days ago but it had felt like months. It was as though part of his heart was missing and has now returned. If Tommy had the full authority he would move Oscar and Olivia to Birmingham , unfortunately he knew Olivia wouldn't pick up and leave her new life she just created. Grace wouldn't want her around constantly either.

"Everybody , this is my son Oscar Charles Shelby and his mother Olivia DuBois."

Heads turned while the noise died down. Most were curious but there were a few hateful stares. One from Grace and the other was a tall brunette. She was modestly dressed but that didn't take away from her beauty. She looked like she could be in the magazines with her cheek bones. Her stare had more caution than complete hatred . The woman got up and moved to the other side of the room to join a man. The way they embraced she guessed they were married.

A sweet young woman came up to Olivia and hugged her.

"I'm Jenna , Arthur's wife, it's so good to meet you and little Oscar."

Jenna moved over to Tommy and gave Oscar cheek a little pat.

I'm your auntie."

Oscar blushed and the whispered to his father to be set down. Once he was down he hugged his new aunt. Jenna kissed him on the head and Arthur came to them.

"Ello We met already, at the hospital. "

" Yes , you're the oldest brother. He used to talk about you. I'm glad we can properly meet."

Arthur moved to his nephew and bent down to his eye level. He pulled out a cap to put on Oscar head.

"Eh now he's a Shelby."

Raucous laughter filled the room and Olivia felt more at ease , so did Oscar. She met John and his wife esme , their children , then Finn. One by one everyone introduced themselves. She learned the tall brunette was named Lizzie Keene. She was Tommy Secretary. Her husband was Albert , a foreman at a Shelby factory. Lizzie gave Olivia a stiff hand shake and gave Oscar a warm greeting. Her motherly instincts didn't feel that she was a threat. A shy but sweet man introduced himself as Curly , and uncle Charlie strong as well. The final introduction was with Grace.

Olivia could see how much anger and frustration Grace was holding in.

"Grace Burgess , Thomas's fiance."

Grace purposely stuck out her left hand for Olivia to shake. The engagement ring glinted in the light . She had a very posh Irish accent and a delicate hand. No calluses , which means she never worked with her hands. Most likely grew up with servants and was expected to marry a man with high standing, be the perfect wife. Why was she with Tommy ?

"I'm pleased to meet you . I love your dress."

Complement her Olivia thought. Stay on her good side.

"Hello Ms.Grace" Oscar, the little gentleman that he was , stuck out his hand to Grace. She gave him half a cold smile and quickly shook his hand.

"You look just like your father."

Olivia wanted to throttle that woman.

"Let's make our way to the dinning room please. Dinner will be served soon." Grace exited the room with a stiff strut. She seemed to hate the attention was off of her.

Olivia looked down to Oscar to see his disappointment. He so badly wanted to make a good impression on Grace.

As they walked towards the dinning room , Olivia kept repeating under her breathe . Benefit of the doubt, benefit of the doubt, give Grace some room to adjust . Taking on a step son can be overwhelming. All Grace needed was time to warm up to Oscar and then become best friends.

"You don't need to be worried sweetie"

Polly had slinked her way to Olivia side , nearly making her jump.

"I think you need a cat bell around your neck Polly. You scared me."

Polly rubbed the middle of Olivia back and chuckled. Polly was loving Olivia more every minute. As far as she was concerned arrow house and Birmingham was Olivia and Oscar new home and no one would make them feel uncomfortable.

"Don't be afraid to stand up to Grace if you need to. You are a Shelby now , you command respect."

"Polly I don't want to cause any trouble and I'm not a Shelby , Oscar is."

"Tommy might be the head but I'm the heart of this family and what I say goes. You are a fucking Shelby. Time to assert your dominance , otherwise Grace will walk all over you."

Polly gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and left her to enter the dinning room. Olivia was taken aback by the grand scale of the room. A massive long table that could seat a hundred people sat in the middle of the room. A fire place on left so big you could stand in it. What got her attention was the head of the table. A painting of Tommy standing next to a white horse holding its lead. It was a rather ugly picture in her mind. He wasn't even smiling just looking down on everyone in the room.

"Oscar you come sit here next to me and Olivia you can sit on the other side of him."

Grace sat across from them on Tommy right side. Ada rushed to the seat next to Grace just in case the dinner went sideways. Lizzie nearly pushed her way to Ada. She wanted a good view of any drama. Grace loathed how the family members clamored for Olivia attention. Polly won of course , followed by Jenna and Esme. Tommy saw Grace fingers digging into her thigh. He had to pry her hand away to kiss her knuckles. A comforting and intimate gesture Grace appreciated.

An army of serving staff came from left and right. Filling glasses with alcohol and water . Removing plates and replacing them with bowls of soup. A multi course dinner. Olivia was impressed.

Once every guest had their bowl a butler stood next to Tommy. The delicious aroma made Olivia stomach rumble.

"The first course is a tomato and anchovy filet soup."

Olivia saw out of her peripheral view Oscar about to eat a spoon full. Thankfully she heard the ingredients being listed in time.

"NO" Olivia shouted slapped the spoon out of her son hand.

"I'm sorry I should have mentioned earlier but Oscar has a few food allergies , one of them being anchovies. "

"Sorry baby I didn't mean to startle you."

She kissed Oscar on his head. She glanced over to Tommy and Grace. He was concerned while she was mad there was a stain on the carpet.

"Yes that is helpful information to have."

" Take the bowl away , NOW. "

Grace said rudely. A mousey young girl took the bowl away while profusely apologizing to Tommy and Olivia.

"I can ready a plain tomato and creme if he would like."

" Yes that would be lovely. Thank you so much. "

"What else is he allergic to ?" Tommy asked.

" Well peanuts , rice , and anchovy. His reaction isn't the worst case but he can become sick for several days. With the anchovy his ears start to itch and his throat swells some. I keep medication on hand for emergencies. "

"James."

Tommy called over his head butler.

" I will inform the chef of your son's dietary requirements Sir. "

"Thank you " Olivia tried to get the butler attention but he swiftly left the room.

Conversation lulled between the first and main course. Oscar was oblivious to the tension coming from across the table. He was too busy stuffing himself with fingerling potatoes. Grace ate her beef Wellington with precise bites. Ever so the proper lady. Controlled and calculated. The evil step mother from Cinderella came to mind. Olivia was waiting for a fluffy cat named Lucifer to make an appearance by the end of the night. A cough broke Olivia from her musings .

"Sweetheart you have to stop eating so fast or you'll choke." Olivia patted his back and made him take a few gulps of water .

"The potatoes are delicious mama."

"I agree your chef is very talented Tommy."

"It was a small miracle I was able to convince Mr. O'Neal to accept a position here at Arrow House. " Grace butted in before tommy could reply .

"He was fifth generation chef for the duke of Howth and the St Lawrence family. That's how I met Mr. O'Neal. The duke hosted a lavish state dinner in honor of my father and his exemplary service to the community and to the king."

By the end of her little speech Grace was smug. Her smirk faltered when the small murmur of "Fucking Calvary man " was heard down the table.

Olivia could see Tommy jaw tighten up at that word. Men on their high horses who laughed at being late to battle. A copper‚ from what Polly had told her, and a Calvary solider. Olivia didn't think Grace should be bragging about her father . Not in front of Tommy at least.

Olivia took a long sip of her wine.

"I must say that's impressive to have a man of that calibre working as your private chef."

"Yes I know." The arrogance was overwhelming and repulsive. It was so off putting that Olivia had a difficult time coming up with a witty remark. Some thing that could jab back at Grace to deflate her giant ego. Before she could make a weak comment about not knowing who the duke of howth was , Lizzie chimed in.

"I don't see a wedding ring. Does that mean you've never married ?"

Olivia couldn't hide her shocked expression from the question. Why was Tommy Secretary questioning her marital status ? She got that feeling Lizzie and Tommy had a deeper relationship than employer and employee.

"Um." That's all Olivia got out before she took a another sip of her wine.

"No I've never been married. I have this little one to keep me busy." She kissed Oscar head. Olivia would not let any judgment get to her. There were worse things to be than an unwed mother.

"Hhmm. I would think having a father for your son and setting an example for him would be a priority." Another jab from Grace . It was as if Lizzie and grace were playing off each other. Setting Olivia up for humiliation . Thankfully Tommy put stop to the pettiness .

"He has a father. Me." Tommy said forcefully and with finality . Lizzie was apologetic but not Grace. That just made her more angry.

"Do you have more family back home in France?" Jenna sweetly asked, wanting to defuse the situation.

"Yes , I have my parents , my brother and his wife. They have a little girl and another child on the way."

" Uncle Julien and aunt Lillian are coming next month to visit. " Oscar added.

"That sounds exciting. " Jenna gave a loving smile to Oscar.

"Will your parents be joining them?"

"Not sure. My father is currently training his replacement , he wants to retire."

" What is his profession ? " Ada asked, curious and also wanted to keep the ball rolling on the pleasant conversation.

"My father is a surgeon and my mother is a nurse , mostly midwifery. Julien and I followed in their foot steps."

Olivia felt her spirits lifted. A topic in which she felt joy and pride.

"You must have grown up privileged." Grace once again with a slight jab.

"I grew up comfortably. I did experience hard times occasionally. It taught me to work hard and appreciate the fruits of my labor. I was privileged enough to attend Boston training school at Massachusetts General hospital. " Olivia let her own arrogance seep through. The family members started asking questions. The room became loud with conversations over lapping. By the end of desert Oscar and Olivia felt the famille love. Olivia felt an added boost to her ego when the family picked her cakes and cookies over Grace requested plain white cake.

When the adult retired to the parlor for drinks and the children to the play room, Olivia was floating on cloud nine. Polly was right. She had asserted her dominance over Grace and it felt powerful. Olivia wanted to build a respectful relationship her but if grace stepped out of line with Oscar , she would have to answer to a very pissed off mama bear.

Olivia quietly stepped outside to retrieve Oscar over night bag. The sweet young maid offered to show her Oscar bedroom when an argument across the hall caught her attention. The young maid hast with Oscar bag , she knew better than to eaves drop on Mr. Shelby but Olivia couldn't move. Inside what looked to be an office , Tommy and Grace were in the middle of a very heated argument. She was pacing while Tommy had his head hung low , trying not to snap. This was likely all her fault. Olivia's gut began to churn with guilt. She got so wrapped up in her anger against Grace , she didn't think how it would affect tommy and by extension their son.

"Usually Polly is the only one who can get her that mad. I'm impressed." Lizzie said with a hint of admiration. Olivia stared at her quizzical while the office door was slammed shut. She had been caught.

"Smoke?" Lizzie asked while pointing to the back of the home. A door was open that led to a private patio. Olivia declined the cigarette while following Lizzie. They sat on the stone balustrade in silence. Lizzie smoked half of the cigarette before she spoke up.

"He would mumble a woman's name in his sleep. Liv. Over and over again. Sometimes he called out that name when he finished. I asked once . He just gave me a deadly glare and left. Didn't talk to me for a month after. I never asked again. When he called a family meeting two days ago it came full circle. Olivia ,Liv. It was you he was calling out to." Lizzie tone wasn't bitter only a sad hint of nostalgia. Olivia was right about them. Their relationship was romantic and not only professional. The guilt was coming back in waves. She had possibly tainted another relationship of Tommy's.

" I am truly sorry."

"Its alright." Lizzie patted Olivia hand.

"Tommy would pay extra if he felt that my feelings were hurt.He didn't have to. That was my job but tommy was sweet in his own way."

"He paid you?"

It took a moment to understand. They weren't in a romantic monogamous relationship. She was a prostitute .

"Une courtisane."

(A courtesan)

"You French can make any word sound exotic , including whore."

"How did you fall into that line of work ?" Olivia was curious now. She wanted to be tactful and not make Lizzie uncomfortable. Lizzie wasn't used to being met with kindness . Something about Olivia made her feel safe enough to tell her story.

"I was raised by me mum. Poor. Grew up two rows down from the Shelby. I didn't attend school for long , I couldn't. We had to eat so my mother and I worked. Worked any job available. Maid work mostly. She died when I was twenty then the war broke out. I wasn't smart enough for the office and not many people were hiring maids at the time. I became desperate . I used to fuck seven men a day now I hold the title of senior secretary of Shelby company limited."

"You should be proud of how far you have come. You did what was necessary to survive. No one can fault you for that." Olivia felt compassion more now. The woman was given a terrible hand in life and obviously suffered some.

"Queen Grace would have had me flogged through the streets of small heath for being a harlot."

"I want to have faith that grace will be kind to my son so please tell me the truth. Is grace truly an awful person? There has to be some good in her for tommy to be in love with her." Olivia craved a strong drink during this conversation.

"I believe Grace wants more that tommy can give her. His true self is a Romania boy who loves horses and traveling the countryside. The house , money, the OBE is all for Grace. She won't harm your boy but tommy will keep hold on her attitude. She will always hate you. No way around that."

"What did he get himself into?"

"She swooped in on him while he was vulnerable. She does love him but not unconditional love sadly."

"I want to apologize for my behavior at dinner. Tommy is family and I don't want to see him get hurt."

"I understand and thank you."

A brief silence settled between them. Olivia appreciated her sincerity . A burning question floated around in her brain and blurted it out.

"Do you love Tommy ?"

Lizzie chuckled.

"Dear god no. What we had was out of comfort. We needed each other at that time. I work for him because he owed me. Tommy gifted me a type writer and secretary classes. He also introduced me to my husband. I'm loyal to the family because they have protected me."

Olivia pulled Lizzie into a hug."

"I'd like for us to be friends if that's alright."

"I would like that too." Lizzie could see a long lasting friendship with Olivia.

"There you are my love" Albert greeted Lizzie with a kiss on the cheek and a subtle rub on her stomach.

"Congratulations on the baby." Both Lizzie and Albert looked a little shocked Olivia mentioned it. They found out a few days ago and hadn't told anyone.

"You couldn't eat the anchovy soup or the beef Wellington. You've rubbed your belly through out the night . Albert just confirmed it for me."

"We haven't told anyone yet."

"I understand your secret is safe with me"

Olivia and Lizzie hugged a final time when they all entered the house. Olivia veered off into one of the many corridors. Dark wood framing , dark wall paper , dark paint. This house was out of a gothic novel. The only reprieve was the paintings.Most of them colorful scenic wildlife. A few abstract paintings to portray tommy and grace as serious art collectors.

The grand portrait on the stair case burned holes into Olivia. Grace was perfect. The chandelier light highlighted her eyes and she was haunting. Olivia swayed left and right waiting for the eyes to follow. The long night was getting to her. She felt emotionally drained and wanted to cry. Cry because her little boy was leaving the nest. Cry for her family back home she hadn't seen in months.The kindness and acceptance she was shown by the Shelby family. Crying at the realization she is lonely.

"No one FUCKING listens to me."

"Fuck"

A raging bull stormed down the hall oblivious towards Olivia .Grace chewed tommy ear off. Blah blah Polly disrespected her in her own home. Blah blah Jenna should remain loyal as a sister in law. Blah blah blah.

He had never hit a woman but when grace nearly called Olivia a that French whore , he had to resist the urge.

After many assurances about their future , grace wouldn't shut up. He kept giving and giving to the relationship but grace didn't trust him. Oscar was an added blessing to his life not a burden. His mother was not a threat. He had to run from the argument otherwise he knew Grace would demand he not pursue a relationship with his son. No one would stand in the way of his son. NO ONE.

In his blinding anger , Tommy clipped a shoulder. He wanted to hide upstairs until he calmed down.

"Ouch."

The voice stopped him. He turned to see Olivia rubbing her upper arm.

"Fuck"

"You've already said that Thomas."

"Fuck I'm sorry. Didn't see you."

His adrenaline was pumping. After a nasty fight he and grace would usually have make up sex , tonight that didn't seem like a possibility. He was directing that sexual tension towards Olivia. He feral urge to take her to his bed and not let her leave till morning

He gently stroked her bicep and murmured another apology.

"Would you care to see Oscar new room ?"

Tommy pulled Olivia along before she could reply. They ran up the stairs and past Tommy room. The door was slightly ajar, Olivia saw the large inviting bed and wondered what it would feel like to roll around naked on the sheets.

"Stop it". Olivia whispered out loudly .

" What ?" Tommy furrowed his brows.

"Oh , nothing." She accidentally chastised herself out loud. She shouldn't having any sexual thoughts towards Tommy at that moment. Standing in front of her son's new bedroom and the fiance downstairs. Being celibate for five years and nine months was starting to get to her. Maybe it was time for a lover.

Tommy opened the door, the smell of fresh paint lingered in the air. Brand new comforter and pillows with a horse pattern decorated the bed. Two large dressers sat on opposite walls . A giant toy chest joined them. From afar Olivia could see the curtains matched his bedding. She smiled.

"He is going to love this." Olivia walked around some. Tommy sat on the bed , proud that Olivia approves.

She ran her fingers across the soft blanket when Tommy pulled her to him. She became lost in his eyes. He brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Their faces gravitated towards each other until their noses touched. He pulled Olivia by the waist , nearly sitting her on his lap. Hot lustful breathe passed between them. Just as Olivia was about to press her lips to his, A pop of laughter broke the spell.

So damn close. Olivia stood up and walked to the window.

"We can't be doing that Thomas. We are to familiar."

"Livy."

"Stop Thomas. Please just stop."

"I can't give grace another reason to hate me. Tonight would have ended in disaster if not for your family intervening."

"Everything will be fine if grace will just fucking listen."

"No tommy . She feels threatened. I don't like how she behaved but I understand."

He was trying his hardest to rationalize. Yes it was wrong to try and kiss Olivia but he couldn't help it. His brain hurt trying to juggle Grace's demands ,his family and now his buried feelings towards Olivia.Would it be so bad to marry Grace and carry on an affair with Olivia?

"Olivia please."

"I lost my mind,that's why I didn't find you."

She needed to create distance. To show how broken she had become. He heard shovels digging but she had come close to being hospitalized. The first two years after the war was horrific for her mental health. Possibly she could make him hate her for staying away and being selfish. She felt she needed to be punished for her actions.

"It started after I was discharged. I was promoted and continued to work at a civilian hospital. Slept in my own bed , in a warm home.I was filled with anxiety and had nightmares. The same one over and over again. Dead everywhere in the battle field while you were screaming, begging me to find you."

Olivia made her way to the plush winged back chair in the corner.

"I was so sad I barely ate.I didn't go back home to my parents , they didn't know I was pregnant. He woke me up. When I felt Oscar kick for the first time I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. The birth was rough and thankfully my family had been contacted. I had hope going home , that I would have a peaceful life. Sadly that wasn't the case."

Tommy heart broke for Olivia. He felt her sorrow. She shouldered the responsibility of a mother and the shell shock. She had to be one of the strongest people he had known. Tommy admired and loved Olivia more.

"Do you remember the stories I told you about my childhood , the festivals ?"

Tommy nodded his head in recognition.

"The field that has held so many happy memories of my life is now a cemetery. Soldiers from all over the world who couldn't go home are buried there. Some Germans too. Two thousand eight hundred and thirty four headstones . I kept thinking you were buried there."

Olivia leg was jumping. She hated how vulnerable she was in that moment but she also felt the pressure was lifting off of her. The truth was setting her free. If he hated her after so be it. Her next confession should push him to the edge. It's a sad fact that was out of her control but still felt guilt. She knew and understood it wasn't her fault. A little voice in the back of her mind wouldn't let it go.

"I don't remember much of Oscar first year. My parents did most of the work in taking care of him. I don't remember his first words , when he started rolling over and crawling. I was in a haze. I went from nightmares to night terrors. You kept blaming me for your death. Hated me for keeping Oscar away. I would walk to the cemetery at night searching for your name on the stones. I don't want to get into what fully happened but I did have a breakdown."

Tommy rushed over to her with a handkerchief. Small tears ran down her face and he wiped them away.

"I started seeing a doctor after that. He helped me understand what I was going through and lessen the burden I was feeling."

Tommy was now on his knees in front of Olivia holding both of her hands.

"I wanted him to myself. I wanted to remain clueless about if you were alive or dead. I built a perfect life for Oscar and I that no one could touch."

"There it is Tom. The truth. I selfishly kept your son while being a terrible mother. I ignored him while pregnant and during his first year."

"You had no control over it."

"WHY AREN'T YOU ANGRY ?!"

Olivia held tommy vest lapels in her tight fists. Panting and vision starting to blur. Tommy cradled her head to his chest.

"Shh. You're safe." He continued to whisper in Romani . The same words he would use to calm scared horses. He didn't want her to hyperventilate .

Panic was setting in for Olivia. It had been months since an attack. Tommy's words soothed her. She breathed in through her nose and out of her mouth. The smell of cigarettes whiskey and an unknown cologne filled her lungs. A unique smell that she will always associate with comfort and peace.

"I apologize for my outburst. I've been holding in for so long."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He held her close kissing Olivia on her forehead. He pulled back to stroke her cheek.

"You are strong. Stronger than I am. I could have not picked a better mother for our boy. Never doubt yourself."

Olivia gave tommy a small warm smile. Her hands moved to his back. Rubbing up and down while both of them swaying together. The memories of their impromptu first dance came flooding back.In the garage next to the medical trucks. Humming a tune while shuffling in the dark.

A familiar tune filled the silence. Olivia had started humming , the swaying changed into more pronounced movement. Murmuring in the hallway stopped their dancing.

"This is room belongs to you now."

Olivia pushed tommy a few inches to create a respectful distance. Polly and Francis ushered Oscar into his bedroom. Polly saw how close their were and couldn't help the Cheshire grin .

"Mama I have horses on the blanket."

"I know baby. Look at all the toys papa got you."

Olivia pointed to the toy chest. He squealed.

"Mr. Shelby should I turn down his bedding and unpack his suitcase." Francis asked.

"Yes and if you could draw him a bath in half an hour. I need to throw my family out by then."

"Thomas that's rude." Olivia gave a little jab to his side. They both chuckled.

"Seems I forgot to mention Ada , john , Esme , and the children will be staying over. We all thought it would help Oscar adjust to his new surroundings."

"When did you all decide this ?" Just what tommy needed. If he didn't know grace certainly didn't know of the extra over night guests.

"A few days ago.Don't worry the children will be on their best behavior."

"Oh good." Sarcasm seeped through tommy.

" Resteras-tu pour l'heure du conte maman?"

(will you stay for story time mama?)

"Bien sûr mon amour, mais d'abord ton bain. Allons dire bonne nuit á votre famille."

(Of course my love but first your bath. Let's go say goodnight to your family.)

Francis busy herself while Polly cornered Tommy.

"You both seemed rather cozy before we entered the room."

"Polly. No plots , no schemes."

"Plots and schemes are the same thing."

"Nothing was happening between us. Do you understand ?"

"I understand."

Tommy nodded at her and left the room.

"For now." Polly mumbled that last part under her breathe.

"Since you will be around I have to show you the city tomorrow. A lovely spa recently opened at the Midland hotel. I had a facial treatment that made me look and feel ten years younger. Also it's an all women staff." Jenna was buzzing with excitement.

"I'm staying at the Midland, I can set up an appointment for us in the afternoon. Would any other ladies like to join ? My treat."

"I'm comin. I need a day away from those little devils." Esme gave a deadly side eye to John. Daring him to argue with her.

"My back has been hurting. Before we leave I will tell Tommy I need a sick day tomorrow." Lizzie announced with a smirk.

"Ada and I are unable attend but we can meet you all for lunch." Polly would have loved to of gone on their day of relaxation but she and Ada had to smooth over their official business with Mr. Thompson.

Glasses rattled in the corner of the room. Everyone turned to the sound. Grace had snuck herself back into the lounge after the humiliating fight with Tommy. She had legitimate concerns about their future together. Tommy swept her feelings to the side in favor of that bastard.

"Grace would you care to join us." The smirking whore had the audacity to invite her to some girly outing like they were best of friends.

" No." Her decline was blunt. A little to blunt appearing rude.

"Tomorrow I have an appointment with the florist for the wedding." Grace said in a sickly sweet tone.

"Oh well next time we can have lunch." Olivia cheeks stretched into the best smile she could muster.

"Hmm yes. If you all would excuse me , I'm awfully tired and want to retire for the night. Thank you all so very much for coming. Good night." Grace left in a huff. John burst out laughing, obviously drunk.

"She needs to take the stick out of her arse."

"JOHN" Esme slapped him. The children giggled at the antics.

"Say goodnight , it's time for your bath."

Olivia and Oscar left in a flurry of hugs and kisses.

They met Francis in the bathroom. She set out warm towels and drew a bubble bath. The faint sent of lavender filled the room. Tommy watched them from the door. Olivia washing Oscar hair while conversing in French. His heart warmed with familiar memories. His mother bathing the Shelby children. After a long hard day she would drag the copper tub in front of the fire without complaint. She bought special soap for each child. His favorite was chamomile scent. She would hum a soothing tune , each time he managed to fall asleep in the tub. His mother would rap him up in the lone fluffy towel they owned and tucked him into bed. The strong maternal love that radiated from his mother was coming from Olivia. How could one woman be calming and peaceful.

Olivia lifted Oscar out of the tub to dry him off. Tommy lifted Oscar into his bed to tuck him in. He sat off to the side , listening to the story Olivia spun so eloquently he started to drift off.

"Papa."

Tommy opened his eyes to a sleepy Oscar reaching for him.

"Goodnight my boy. I'm just across the hall if you need me." Tommy kissed him on the forehead.

"Are you sure you can't stay mama ?"

"No sweetheart. The hotel isn't very far and your father has the number. I will call you in the morning and will be around for dinner."

"Love you mama."

"Love you. Sweet dreams. "

Tommy left his son door ajar and escorted Olivia down the stairs , his hand on her lower back. He hated she would leave to a hotel. This was the situation. She didn't belong with him. Grace did unfortunately.

Olivia retrieved her coat and purse while exiting the house. She stood by her car door staring at Tommy.

"I had a wonderful time with your family."

"Livy."

"I said what I had too and that's all I will speak on the subject. Please understand Tommy , we are parents to our son and that's it. That is all we can ever be."

"I know." He swallowed the words like acid.

"Oi , Olivia." Arthur shouted to get her attention.

"Arthur don't be so loud." Jenna gently scolded her husband.

Arthur pulled Olivia into a bear hug. He pulled back and gave her a pat on the shoulder. His emotions were bubbling to the surface which he hated. He still hasn't figured out how to deal but Jenna was a saint in helping him.

"We were surprised when tommy told us about you and the kid , always thought it would be me or john with secret kids running around the city. Maybe our dad."

"Arthur." Tommy gave him a warning and Jenna put her palm against his for comfort.

" I can see you both make my brother happy. That's what matters. You have brothers in me , john ,and Finn now."

Olivia kissed Arthur cheek in thanks. He was a sweetheart despite his tough exterior.

"That means so much to me thank you."

She gave her goodbyes and left for the hotel. Tommy stood in the chilled night watching the tail lights disappear down the drive way. He understood what she was trying to do upstairs. Pushing him away, trying to convince him she was a terrible mother . Mentally unstable , not fit to be in a relationship.Damaged goods , that's how she saw herself. It made him respect her rather than hate her. She took control of her problems and confronted them. She admitted she had a problem , which is more than tommy ever did. Olivia was better than him in every way.

Tommy made way to his bedroom dragging his feet the entire way. He looked in on his boy sleeping soundly. Another person that he didn't deserve. A hard truth he had to face. He loved grace because they were the same type of person. He killed so many men in France to get back home. He killed men in Birmingham to ascend to the top of the food chain. He destroyed families , pulled the trigger without blinking. Ruthless when he had to be. Grace was the same way. All of her sins led her to him. She saw what she wanted and didn't stop until she conquered it. Olivia wasn't that way. A soft compassionate heart. She found a way to heal her mind and soul.

Tommy wasn't so lucky. It was the same viscous cycle everyday. He was a broken man . A career criminal. He didn't want her to see him wash the blood off his hands after the end of the day. He was scared to admit that he feared rejection. Olivia might not be able to handle Peaky blinder Thomas. She knew the soldier who she dug shrapnel out of. A man who dreamed of owning horses. Not the man he is now. Grace accepted that part him. She used that part to her advantage. Sweep it under the rug when it hurt her image. Two peas in a pod.

"You were right Grace."

Grace eyes widened at Tommy statement. She had just finished a scolding hot bath and wanted to sleep the anger away.

"My feelings for her came back but its not something I'm going to or wanting to pursue. I apologize."

"You have to stay away from her. She can not be an intrusive force in our life."

"She is my son's mother I can't cut either of them out my life."

"I know but you don't have to around her. Don't entertain her or be alone in the same room. Polly or Ada can do that. Set boundaries and make them perfectly clear to her. You and I are getting married. She has no place other than Oscar mother ."

"Mmmhmm. I promise I will ."

Tommy push Grace up against the wall with a kiss. He wanted to shut her up. Grace robe was thrown to the floor , tommy buttons flew in the air , lust thick in the air. Tommy pounded into grace with fury.He was punishing himself while symbolically severing any hope for a romantic future with Olivia. She will find a good man in time and marry him have more children. Maybe Oscar will end up loving his step father more than him.The thought enraged him so he took it out on Grace which she loved. He carried her to the bed and took her from behind. He wanted to finish at that point.

Once it was over Tommy held Grace to his chest.

"I should be more force full you seem to like it." Grace broke the silence with her comment.

"Goodnight."

Tommy managed a few hours of sleep before he woke up. Grace turned on her side with even breathes. He looked around his siren wasn't there calling out to him. He strained his ears for humming but there wasn't any. He couldn't smell her perfume. She was gone. That's what he wanted. He didn't understand why tears were slipping down the side of his eyes. Of course he understood why but it's what is best. He cried himself back to into a nightmare.

He was in the pit that Campbell men dug for his dead body. On his knees with a gun to his head he looked to his left to see Olivia , Oscar , A mystery man , and a small toddler. They were enjoying a picnic. Laughing their cares away. His impending death was invisible to them.

" She is doing just fine without you. You aren't needed." The man who spoke was Campbell. Blood pouring out of his chest. He wanted to scream for Olivia but nothing came out. He felt the multiple bullets hit his chest while falling into the pit. He looked up to the sky waiting for her to rescue him. She never did. Dirt piled on top of tommy. He was being buried alive. Shovel after shovel rang in his ears. Olivia laughter was faint and faded. He was dying alone while she was happy.

When tommy woke he rushed to the toilet to vomit. His dream would turn into reality one day. Olivia didn't need to be brought down by his misery and misdeeds. He would do everything in his power to make sure Oscar was safe and not inherent his melancholy. He will keep a respectful distance with her.

Tommy met an excited Oscar in the hallway . He wouldn't stop talking about the horses. An icebreaker they could bond over. He was such a Shelby boy like he and his brothers were at that age. An innocent soul he would keep pure. He still worried about Grace. He had hope after the night they had and the promises he made towards their future. She wasn't his true love but Grace would do. He made his bed now it's time to lie in it

[quite-likely-valentine]

I now present this: Imagine if you could tell the companions you love them once you have maxed their affinity.

I don't just mean companions you've romanced, I mean for ALL companions, platonic or otherwise. Just put it in the Talk menu, but you can only use it every so often for consistency sake.

But literally, please, imagine everyone's reactions. It would be so wholesome and sometimes funny because you KNOW a lot of them would be flustered to death.

---- ----

Nick:

If a second gen synth could blush, he would. Instead, he beams at you after a moment of surprise passes. You see the leather-like skin around his eyes crinkle up as he chuckles and touches your arm with his good hand. "You're a good kid, and a hell of a friend. I..." he trails off but smiles again, meeting your eyes, "Feeling's mutual, partner."

---- ----

Codsworth:

General Atomics didn't install tear-ducts on their Mister Handy model, but if they had, Codsworth would be a blubbering, sobbing mess. He still gets extremely choked up. "Oh, Sir/Mum, you have no idea how much it means to hear you say that! I always saw you, the misses/the hubby, and young Shaun as my family, and I... I know I'm just a robot butler made to serve, but I really do think that I feel the same for you..!"

---- ----

Deacon:

Deacon is NOT good at emotions, so when you say those three loaded words to him, you can practically see his mind do a Windows reboot. He gets VERY flustered. "Oh, I uh—well, I mean, of course you do! Who wouldn't love this face? I mean, I had it especially made for that reason! Uh..." He scratches his head and looks away awkwardly. "...you're pretty great yourself, [insert Railroad codename]. Your sentiment is shared!" Fingerguns.

---- ----

Strong:

I could make a "Strong Disliked That" joke, but I won't, even though he probably would. He's more confused than anything! "Human what? Strong don't understand. You good leader! Make Strong proud."

---- ----

X6-88:

He... has absolutely no idea how to respond. So he sort of acts like he misheard you, but he definitely heard and even if he doesn't want to admit it, something about that makes his chest feel warm. "You are a respectable leader, Sir/Ma'am. There is no one I would rather defend. It pleases me that you welcome my company."

---- ----

Dogmeat:

Dogmeat doesn't really understand you, but he seems to get the idea! You get a happy bark from him as he attempts to jump up and lick your face. He clearly feels the same!

---- ----

Hancock:

If he's romanced, you'll get a happy smile from him as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Don't I know it... I love you too, Sunshine."

If just platonic, however, he'll be taken aback for a moment. Such blunt affection among friends is far too uncommon in the Commonwealth. However, his expression soon shifts to a crooked grin, but it has a softness to it that reveals how genuine it truly is. "I wouldn't expect any less, but it sure as hell does feel good to hear you say it, pal. Feeling's mutual."

---- ----

Piper:

If romanced, Piper will give you a sly smile and interlace her fingers with your own. "How could you not?" She says cheekily, but plants a kiss on your lips and says back, "I love you, too, Blue."

If platonic, on the other hand, she'll be surprised and flustered, but not displeased by any means. She'll stutter for a second, then manage to choke out, "Thaaaat's very straight forward of you, Blue. I... can't say I don't appreciate that, though." She smiles, genuinely. "Love ya too, Blue."

---- ----

MacCready:

When romanced, this boy's smile could light up the commonwealth. He just hugs you. "I love you, too. So much."

If platonic, he's a bit less physically affectionate, but you can see that he clearly feels the same. He goes from mildly surprised, to a somewhat unsure smile as he takes his hat off and scratches the back of his head. "So soft," he chuckles, almost quietly. "You're soft, Boss," he repeats in a normal voice and looks up at you, "But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I care about you just the same, my friend."

---- ----

Cait:

Even if she's romanced, you can tell those words have a heavy impact on her. Still, she grins at you over the sincerity in her eyes. "Course ya do, silly!" She kisses you. "I love you too, Darlin'. I mean it."

If platonic, she's a bit more bashful, but she hides it well by chuckling as soon as the surprise wears off and crossing her arms. "Well of course ya do!" She grins. "Such a softie, aren'tcha? I feel the exact same, though, that's for sure. I'm glad'ta have ya as my friend!"

---- ----

Danse:

No matter how much you've tried to convince Danse that you care for him, those words seem to hit him as if it's the first time he's ever heard them. When romanced, he just looks at you so fondly, so softly. He pulls you into an embrace. "I love you, too," is all he can manage, but you can tell that he means it.

When platonic, he's a bit less choked up, but you can still see the impact. He clears his throat, looks away and scratches the back of his head. "I still don't know why you choose to trust me after... you know. But..." He looks back at you and smiles softly. "...but I appreciate your trust, and I care for you, too. A lot."

---- ----

Curie:

When romanced, Curie immediately wraps her arms around you with such joy. She says, "You have taught me what love is, and I feel it so strongly for you, as well. Thank you, my love!"

When platonic, she looks incredibly touched as well, and holds her hands over her heart. "You have been such a good friend, and you have allowed me to experience many wonderful things. It makes my chest feel so warm to know you value my company, Monsieur/Madame. I value your company greatly, as well!"

[1tad0ri]

sukuna could most definitely dick me down, and i deffo would let true form sukuna own me. i would love if you would do something along the lines of back in the og days where he is gonna attack a village and they offer the reader up to him in exchange for their safety

warning: sukuna is in his original form, light mentions of killing, demon/monster fucking :) (also very explicit consent <3)

ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader

that entire first sentence spoke to me tbh

as horrifying and bone-chilling as he was, the demon haunting your village was certainly a lot different than you expected.

“so... are you going to kill me or something?” maybe you’d gotten too casual around him, but the lavish silks he’d draped you in had you feeling rather cushy with the being in front of you. yes, you were still shaking with fear but the fact you’d made it this far was pretty uplifting.

his eyebrow twitched, annoyed, staring you down from where he sat atop his throne and in that moment you decided, this was it. you’d gone one step too far and pushed a button you really shouldn’t have. but rather than set about slicing your head off, sukuna—as you’d come to learn he was called—gave you a reply... one that wasn’t very reassuring, but a reply nonetheless. “maybe.”

“maybe?” you squeaked, echoing him.

“i don’t have much used for you otherwise. pathetic humans.” the towering beast seemed bored, the four arms sprouting from his body laying idly by. you were knelt in front of his throne, giving him the perfect vantage point to look down on you—you felt small; maybe he really was right about pathetic humans.

“what happened to the whole ‘ravishing young maidens’ part?”

he sighed and one of his four monsterous arms came up to rub at his forehead. he certainly was very kingly in his actions, knowing when he didn’t want to give the time of day to someone and being blunt as only those in power could be afforded the right to be. the king of curses was a fitting title. “i told you already. i won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“but you’ll kill me?”

“i said ‘maybe,’ brat,” his voice was strained and you had a feeling he was starting to change his mind on the maybe part to something a litttle less... ideal. “maybe i’ll keep you around for company. more servants is always nice. or maybe i’ll let you go free.” he grinned when you perked up at that, sharp teeth gleaming. “or maybe i won’t.” you deflated. “who knows?” he was casual as he sighed out the words, looking wistfully into space, dramatic. “not you, that’s for sure.” the flit of his eyes back to yours and the curl of his lips at that was mocking.

you thought for a moment before deciding further boldness would barely influence your fate at this point. “and what if i said i wanted you?”

sukuna leaned forward, an arm resting on his knee and hand propping up his face—you’d caught his interest. “want me?” he egged you on, sly, suggestive smirk reaching you. “oh, do elaborate.” the words were purred and rolled off of the tip of his tongue easily.

you fumbled with your hands. “oh— you know—”

“no, i don’t think i know,” he interrupted you, grin stretching even wider.

you stared down at your lap and then meekly glanced up at him. “want you to fuck me.”

howling laughter tumbled out of him and you felt your face burn hot from embarrassment. when he finally calmed down, he spoke. “that’s not necessary for your survival, nor is it a guarantee that i’ll let you go free. do not let that sway your decision.”

you shook your head frantically, “no, wait, you misunderstand—” he gestured for you to continue and you gulped, powering through your fears. “i find the concept intriguing and... and... i just want it.” indeed it had some appeal to you—he’d taken on the appearance of a human face—a handsome one at that—that had markings similar to the black ink over the rest of his body carved into it. he was toned, covered in muscles you may have been desiring to touch.

sukuna had the decency to look at least a little surprised before he pounced on the opportunity. “very well then. what are you waiting for then? come here, pet.”

the name sent shivers down your spine and you rose from where you knelt to walk over and settle onto his lap where he was patting, everything about what he was doing patronizing, yet you found yourself enjoying it all the same.

instantly, one of his hands set about shoving through your undergarments in search of your pussy to prep you, thick fingers sliding against your already slick folds (the growing thoughts you’d had while sitting before him previously helped with that). while the digits of that set about sliding inside of you, another arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him and a second one squished the sides of your face together to hold you in place as he kissed you, the lips descending upon you firey hot in nature. the final hand was feeling you up through your top, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples through the fabric.

it wasn’t long after that he was sliding his cock into you at your insistence, him mocking your impatience but doing as you requested. the fit was tight and tears prickled at your eyes as you sunk onto him. eager, you’d been quick to adjust yourself, deep breaths letting you get used to the stretch, and then he was bouncing you on his dick, the slap of wet skin against wet skin filling his expansive throne room and your pretty pussy tearing guttural moans from the depths of his throat.

[seijorhi]

Final Girl

Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou & Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

And please check out the incredible fanart @lausterdomyamong created for this fic here 💕💕💕

TW blood, gore, violence, minor character death, implied non-con, pregnancy mentions, nsfw

Your lungs are burning. 

You haven’t run like this in years, your thighs are screaming at you for a reprieve. With every step it feels like the soles of your bare feet are splitting open but you can’t stop, not for a single second.

You can’t stop. You can’t stop. 

Keep running.

It’s dark, and you can barely see.

Stumbling like newborn foal through the thick undergrowth, tripping over the roots that catch at your feet. Your legs are scratched and bleeding, and there’s a nasty scrape along your arm from where you’d fallen and tried to cushion the blow, but you shove it all down and you keep running.

You can’t hear much over the sounds of your laboured breaths and your own heartbeat hammering away inside of your ears, but you know you must be making a racket. Branches breaking, leaves crunching underfoot as you clumsily dash through the woods - keep running, keep going.

Being quiet won’t save you if they catch up.

The loud whoops and the hyena like laughter that echo out through the trees behind you spur you onwards. Faster, you have to run faster.

This is nothing but a game to them. 

“Wait- wait, just stop for a sec… do you hear that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to his bedroll, “Really, babe? The campfire stories weren’t enough for you? Do you not want me to sleep at all on this trip?”

There’s a teasing little grin on your face, not that your boyfriend can see it in the darkness of your tent. You expect him to laugh, grab you by the waist and pull you under him - make some quip about his wicked intentions of not letting you sleep a wink, but he doesn’t.

He stiffens, pushing himself back upright onto his palms, head cocked to the side like a dog listening for the faintest hint whisper of a sound.

“Babe-”

“Shh!” he hisses, and it’s more shock than anything else that has your mouth falling shut. His hand reaches across to grab yours in the darkness and he squeezes it just once. An apology maybe, or a reassurance that you’re still there with him. “Can you hear that? I think… I think there’s someone out there.”

You swallow uneasily, goosebumps prickling at your skin. If this is part of some stupid joke, you’re gonna kick him out of this tent and make him bunk with his friends for the rest of the trip. He’s never been one for mean spirited pranks, but this is freaking you out.

“It’s probably just one of the guys-” or an animal, or the wind, or his own overactive imagination. You guys are out in the middle of the woods after all. 

“I’m gonna go out and check,” he whispers, pulling his hand from yours and pressing a quick kiss against your cheek. “Stay here.”

There’s a road, a long stretch of winding highway that you’d driven along for what felt like hours when you’d first arrived with your friends. There’s no possible way for you to know if you’re going in the right direction, but if you can just make it there, then-

The thick scent of smoke invades your nose and for you falter - just for a split second - searching for the source. There, maybe two hundred yards away to your left, you spot the orange glow flickering between the trees and your stomach lurches.

Dark figures flit through the clearing, maybe a dozen of them, half illuminated by the bonfire. You can hear their laughter, the shouts and drunken revelry as they party the night away. They don’t have a care in the world, and why should they? Real monsters belong in horror movies and scary stories, not lurking in the shadows of the woods. 

Leave them.

The vicious thought takes you by surprise, but for one awful moment, you consider it. The promise of fresh new toys to rip apart and break, drunk and blissfully unaware, surely that would be enough to tempt them away. You’re just one girl… 

(The truth, the one that sits heavy in your stomach, whispers that you know better than to believe they’ll ever let you get away.)

Your heart pounds against your ribs, your legs unwittingly slowing down. You don’t have time for indecision; it’s them or you.

If leaving them to the wolves meant that you walked away from this, if you could make it back home-

There’s a shout, a scream that rips through the crisp autumn night before it cuts off with an abrupt gurgle. A loud thud followed by a laugh you don’t recognise - one that sends a chill running down your spine. More voices, more screams. Footsteps and a splatter of something dark and viscous against the side of your tent.

There’s a hoot and a chuckle, closer this time, and you hear a sob that’s all too familiar. Pleading. 

Your friend begging for her life.

“Shh, shh, shhh. Aw c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

Another hiccuping sob. “Please… p-please I don’t wanna die…”

“Kuroo-”

There’s a petulant huff, a loud voice interjecting, “s’no fun when they’re just sitting there.”

Kneeling frozen in your tent with one hand clamped tightly over your mouth to stifle your own terrified cries, you squeeze your eyes shut, not daring to draw breath. 

Somebody sighs - the first one, you think. “Y’know, I think Bokuto has a point… Do you like games, sweetheart?”

There’s no response - at least not one that you can hear - but she must have nodded, because the voice continues, “Glad to hear it! Tell you what, we’re gonna play a little game, and if you win, we’ll let you go! Sounds fair, right?”

“We’ll even give you a headstart, just cause we’re nice guys! Whad'ya reckon ‘Kaashi? A minute? Two?”

There’s a short silence, filled only by the sounds of her ragged whimpering. “Two,” the second one - ‘Kaashi - decides. His voice is deadpan, smooth, cold and blunt, but there’s an underlying current of something excitable - the barest hint that he’s not quite as disinterested as he sounds. “She won’t get away.”

No.

You veer, sprinting towards the camp. 

The others died while you hid like a fucking coward, too scared to do anything to help them (it wouldn’t have made a difference, but you should have tried) you can’t do this again. 

You can only imagine how you must look, a strange woman sprinting out of the woods, barefoot, your nightgown torn and filthy, blood streaking your skin. You can pinpoint the moment that they catch sight of you, one of the guys doing a double take and jerking so badly he almost falls off the log he’s perched on. “What the fuck?!”

Another turns, eyes wide and gaping, “Dude, she’s fucking pre-”

“RUN!” you bellow, just in time to see an axe arc through the air beside you and embed itself smack bang in the centre of his skull with a sickening thud.

“Now that’s a bullseye!” Bokuto hollers, maybe thirty feet behind you and gaining quickly. “Didja see that, Akaashi?”

Screams erupt from the other campers, scrambling frantically to their feet as their friend collapses lifelessly to the ground, blood still spurting gruesomely from his wound. 

“Don’t go gettin’ cocky now, the night’s still young,” Kuroo drawls, swinging his baseball bat - the dark wood flecked with dried blood, rusted nails crudely hammered through the barrel - experimentally through the air a few times. “And last I counted, I was still two up on you.”

There’s no time to humour the fear that rips through you like wildfire. You grab the nearest camper - a girl not much older than yourself, staring wide eyed and trembling at the body in front of her - and yank her forward with you. “Run,” you hiss again.

The others scatter, drunk and clumsy - a split second too slow. 

A boot lands on the fallen tree stump, its owner springing gracefully over it. Akaashi’s machete gleams in the moonlight, sweeping gracefully like an extension of his arm as he slices downwards. Blood sprays, drenching his front, and another body falls to the ground - this one missing half a face. 

It’s brutal. Chaotic. 

Ruthless. 

You can’t look back, you can’t help them. The girl is screaming at you, yelling words you can’t hear, trying fruitlessly to tug her wrist out of your grip, but you don’t relent. You don’t slow down, not even as dread fills your stomach and tears burn unshed in your eyes. You can’t help the others - not as Kuroo’s bat comes swinging out of the darkness, tearing flesh and muscle from bone, not when Bo yanks his axe from his victim’s head with a foot planted on his chest, immediately giving chase to another with a wild grin, not when Akaashi’s machete, slick with blood, cuts through her friends like butter - but you can save her.

Just one person- 

“Kitten, come back and play!” Kuroo shouts after you with a sickeningly fond chuckle.

- so long as you don’t stop running.

The camp is eerily quiet, even the crickets have stopped. You have no idea how long ago they left to hunt down your friend, how long you’ve sat, sobbing in silence, too scared to breathe, waiting to see if they’d come back. 

Your friends are dead. Your boyfriend is dead. 

You don’t realise how badly you’re shaking until you try and move - almost falling flat on your face when your arms give out. They’re gone, but every noise, no matter how muted, feels deafening and you try not to flinch as you drag yourself towards the mouth of the tent. You don’t have time to prepare yourself for the carnage waiting for you across the camp ground, you can’t think about the fact that people you love have been torn apart and murdered while you cowered away frozen in fear.

The grip you have on your emotions, your sanity, is fragile, but in your terrified hysteria, you understand one very important thing - they could come back at any moment, and you cannot be here when that happens. 

You cannot stop and cry for your friends, you cannot afford to break down when you see their bodies hacked up and scattered around you - you won’t even look - you just have to take the car keys fisted in your right hand, get to your boyfriend’s truck and get the fuck away from this nightmare as quickly as those wheels can take you. 

Crawling on your hands and knees you slowly pry open the tent flap, biting your lip and wincing at the quiet hiss of the zipper. 

The cold night air hits you like a slap in the face, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming coppery tang of blood that settles on the tip of your tongue as you breathe it in. You bite down on your whimper, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your leaden limbs to move - you can’t afford to stop now, you have to get away.

You won’t look, you won’t look, you won’t-

“I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself.”

Ice douses your system, your heart lurching. Your eyes shoot open, darting towards the source of the voice - there, leaning calmly against the thick trunk of a tree only a few feet away from you is a man. Tall and slender, with dark hair and delicate features, you’d probably go so far as to call him pretty if it wasn’t for the blood splattered garishly across his pale skin and the teasing grin tugging at his lips. 

Absolute terror renders you helpless as he pushes away from the tree and takes a single, calculated step towards you. “Kuroo and Bokuto won’t be long, they’re just finishing up with your friend.” His pretty smirk widens as your eyes well up with tears and a gasping sob finally rips its way free from your chest, “but I don’t think they’ll mind if we get started without them.”

You’re following the well trodden path, praying to god that it’ll lead you back to the road, to any kind of safety. The shouts and screams behind you died out a few minutes ago, but you can’t let yourself think about what that means - it’ll only slow you down and you’re so close.

“Wait, wait, stop! We ha-have to go back!” the girl cries, trying once again to pull you to a stop. “My friends-”

“I’m sorry,” you pant, glancing across at her - and you are. Her eyes are wide and terrified, swimming in a pain you know all too well. It’s selfish and cruel, and it’ll tear her apart just like it has you, but if you let her go now… “It’s too late for them, we need to keep-”

“Baby, you know you can’t hide from us!”

Bokuto. Your heart seizes just as the girl shrieks, and you risk a glance over your shoulder, slowing just a faction. 

They’re closing in, all three of them, less than twenty yards away.

Panic and desperation bite at your nerves - you can’t let them catch you, not now, not when you’re almost free. But your body is aching, your muscles on fire and your stamina is shot to pieces. You’re on your last legs and they know it. They don’t even have to run anymore, they’ve worn you down completely - it’s a miracle you’re still standing.

And it’s childish and petulant, but you just want to scream and cry and yell and beat your fists against the ground because it’s not fucking fair!

You were so close.

Your grip around her wrist slackens just a touch, and the girl takes the opportunity to rip her hand free from yours. You expect her to run, to flee like a bat out of hell and leave you crumpled in the dust, but instead she turns to you with a withering glare, “This is all your fault. You brought them here. You did this.”

The accusation hits you like a slap, but before you can even open your mouth to protest (she’s not wrong, you know she’s not wrong) she grabs you by the shoulders and with all the strength she has left, shoves you back in the path of your pursuers. You stumble from the force of the blow, not expecting it, and for a moment you feel yourself start to fall, instinctively curling in on yourself to protect your belly-

Strong arms catch you before you can hit the ground, pulling you against a warm, muscular chest. “Gotcha,” Kuroo breathes, his tongue darting out to lick at the blood splattered across your cheek.

Vaguely, you register Bokuto’s low, furious growl as he launches forward, his axe raised high. The sharp, piercing screams are cut off quickly - violently - as he buries it in her neck with a snarl. He swings again and her head tumbles clean off to bounce across the forest floor, but he keeps going, swinging again and again and again until her body is nothing but a bloody, mangled mess for the animals to scavenge. 

Your vision blurs, and it takes you a moment to realise that it’s tears welling up in your eyes as Kuroo’s hands run up and down your sides, drifting protectively across the gentle swell of your stomach. “You did good, kitten,” he coos, Akaashi and Bokuto coming up either side of you. “But it’s time to come home now, don’tcha think?”

A hand cups your cheek, drawing you to meet Akaashi’s twisted, lovesick expression, “Gotta reward our pretty little girl for playing her role so well,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the delicate skin. 

“Maybe we can fuck another kid into her,” Bokuto adds with a grin, his previous rage all but forgotten, sated along with his bloodlust thanks to the butchered corpse lying a few yard away. His golden eyes, half lidded and burning with lust, flicker across your face for just a moment, drinking in every last drop of crushing defeat and despair before his lips crash down on yours in a savage, bloody kiss.

This was nothing but a game to them - one you never had a chance in hell of winning. 

[quindolyn]

Please can i request a smut with young sirius black where the reader is very insecure and dosen't think she deserves him. Where he praises her and shows her just how pretty he thinks she is. Could you include daddy kink, praise kink and pet names if you are comfortable with that?

(also thank you for the sympathy Chinese food)

Worthy || Sirius Black

Word Count: 3,654

Notes: Not quite sure how I feel about this, I feel really out of it and have felt like that for a couple of days. I hope you enjoy it though anon, usually I post the request then the piece but doing that makes my blog kind of cluttered and I know I think it’s cleaner when people answer requests like this but I don’t know if I’m going to stick with it.

Warnings: insecure!reader, mad Siri for like 2 seconds, oral (female receiving), praise kink, daddy kink, petnames

Masterlist

“Siri we need to talk.” Yes, be blunt, be straightforward, no beating around the bush. You weren’t going to prolong this any longer than necessary. It was time to set Sirius free, he didn’t need someone like you holding him down, holding him back. And it was time you told him that.

“Yes, poppet?” He quirked an eyebrow, setting his book next to him on the plush couch of the Gryffindor common room. 

“I-I was hoping we could have this conversation in private, in your dorm maybe?” You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your anxiety causing bile to rise in your throat, threatening to make you sick all over Sirius’s shoes.

“Everything okay (Y/N)?” He asked you, his eyes swimming with concern as he ushered you up the stairs to his dorm, a hand resting protectively on the small of your back. 

You didn’t answer him, instead going to sit on his bed once you reached the dorm room, toeing at the fringe of the worn carpet that had probably been there for decades, keeping your eyes on your feet instead of meeting the raven haired boy’s eyes. Leaving them instead to gaze at the top of your head. 

“(Y/N/N)? Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

Breathing in deeply you steeled yourself, straightforward, get this over quickly, “We need to break up Sirius.”

“What?” You winced, he sounded angry and you were sure that had you been able to meet his eyes they could’ve portrayed his anger as well.

“I said that we nee-”

“No, I heard you!” He growled, his hands balling into fists, “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t want to break up with you, don’t I get a say in this?”

“Well I want to, Sirius, and last I checked it took two people to make a relationship work, we can’t make this work if I don’t want to!” You yelled, finally raising your head to meet his visage and your heart broke.

Sirius looked heartbroken, betrayed, horribly sad, and angry. And for a second you regretted telling him that you wanted to break up in the first place.

Because you didn’t want to, you had to, for Sirius.

“That’s bullshit (Y/N)! Who is it?”

“Sirius?” You asked incredulously, what did he mean ‘who’?

“Who have you been cheating on me with? Who the fuck?” In his anger he picked up a book abandoned on your nightside table, throwing it onto the floor.

“W-What?” You stuttered, trying to keep your tears at bay.

Sirius growled, literally baring his teeth like a feral dog, “You heard me, who the fuck are you cheating on me with? Diggory? Snape?”

“I’m not- I didn’t- I-” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm yourself before continuing, “I didn’t cheat on you Sirius, I would never. This is just what’s best for you.”

“How can not being with you be best for me? I don’t wanna not be with you! Why can’t you get that through your head?” He sounded more desperate now than he did angry now, almost as if he could tell that there was something off with you and your motivations behind your hurtful words.

“You are so much better than me Sirius! You’re wonderful, and you’re smart, you excel in our subjects without even trying, you’re charismatic and witty and just plain funny! Not to mention that you’re drop dead fucking gorgeous, and I’m- I’m not. You’re everything Siri, you’re my moon and my sun and my stars, you’re the whole fucking galaxy and you deserve at least that much. And god damn it, Sirius! I’m nothing! You deserve someone half as wonderful as you are, I’m barely a fraction of a percent.” Your voice broke more at the end than you would’ve liked.

You watched as Sirius’ face fell, his bottom lip wobbling as tears flooded his eyes, which once swam with anger were now drowned in guilt and sorrow. “Puppy,” He sniffled, pulling you up into my arms as he buried his face into your neck, “Puppy, I never meant to make you feel like that. You’re everything, my love, you’re wonderful and perfect for me. I love you so much, I’m so sorry I wasn’t good enough at showing you that.” His grip tightened on you with each word until you could feel him constricting your blood flow.

“S’not your fault Siri, you’re just so much better than me. I feel so bad holding you back.”

He pulled away from you, finally allowing you to properly inhale, cupping your face in his strong hands, tilting your head up so he could look directly into your eyes. 

“You, my love, do not hold me back, you propel me forward every day and make me strive to be a better man for you. Please don’t leave me, baby, not because of this, not because you think I deserve better. I don’t even deserve you, especially if I haven’t made you feel as great as you are.”

You were an idiot. This man loved you, maybe almost as much as you loved him. You couldn’t just leave him, but you also couldn’t stay and continue to hold him back. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

“Siri,” A sob tumbled from your lips as you threw yourself at his toned chest, letting your tear stained cheeks rest against the soft material of his shirt, “Siri I- I’m so sorry I love you so much I just- I just…”

“I know love, I know,” Sirius soothed you, petting your hair with one hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against him. “But you are wonderful, you are the light of my life. Let me show you how stunning you are, how beautiful and gorgeous I think your body is. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Okay,” You responded, knowing that Sirius would require verbal consent before so much as touching you.

He walked you back until your knees hit against the edge of the bed, easing you down onto the mattress, then pushing your back down so that you were lying on your back, staring up at him through your water logged lashes.

“Look at you baby girl,” He cooed, standing in between your legs, looking down at your form, long curtains of ink black hair falling into his face. 

Feeling heat rush to your face you moved your hands to cover it from the intense gaze of your boyfriend. 

“Hey there pup,” HIs large hands reached for your wrists, gently pulling them away from your face, pinning them to the bed on either side of you, “There you are pretty girl, don’t hide from me please, wanna see my pretty girl.”

“Sorry,” You murmured.

“Don’t have to apologize to me darling, just want to see you.” He began unbuttoning his black button down, his nimble fingers worked quickly, pulling the buttons out of their holes. As he shrugged his shirt off of his body, revealing the entirety of his upper body to you, you felt your mouth go dry, how were you supposed to compare to that?

In your panicked haze, you didn’t notice Sirius’ fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt until you felt the warm pads of his fingertips dancing along the supple flesh of your stomach. A small gasp escaped your parted lips accompanied by a small wince.

“You’re so soft baby, so soft in my hands,” Sirius praised, allowing his rough palms to slide to your waist where they squeezed gently, “Can I take this off of you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded your consent, raising your arms above your head so that Sirius could slip the garment off of you, letting it drop to the floor next to his feet. You resisted the urge to fold your arms over your now bare torso as Sirius took his time ogling you, he swallowed repeatedly, sure he’d seen you naked before but your body would never cease to take his breath away. 

“Baby,” He crooned, his eyes flying up to meet yours, “Your tits look so pretty in this bra, pretty color on you too, did you buy it for yourself?” Slowly, giving you time to stop him, one of his hands wandered to your clothed breast, giving it a nice squeeze through the lacy pink fabric. 

“Uh huh, bought it over the summer with Lily and Marlene,” You answered, watching his face as he observed your heaving chest, feeling suddenly very courageous you spoke again, “You um, you can take it off if you’d like.”

This brought Sirius’ attention from your chest up to your visage, “You sure m’love, don’t have to take it off yet if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” You gulped, eyes wide, mouth dry, “I want to.”

“Arch your back then for me pup,” Sirius’ deep baritone commanded to which you promptly obeyed, allowing Sirius’ hands to slip between your back and the mattress as he expertly undid the clasp in what must’ve been record time before slipping the delicate straps off of your shoulders.

Not giving you time to be embarrassed at your progressing state of undress Sirius surged forward, slotting your lips with his, drinking from you like you were a canteen of water and he had just hiked through the Sahara. He braced himself on his forearms which rested on either side of your head, letting his tongue trace trace the seal of your lips once, twice, three times, he then plunged deep into the velvet of your warm mouth. He was gentle as he mingled his tongue with yours, brushing against yours with his. 

You let out a small moan into the kiss which had Sirius’ eyes rolling back in his head, “I wanna show you how much I love you (Y/N),” Sirius murmured into your neck as he pulled away from your lips, instead leaving small kisses down the column of your throat, “We can stop if you want to, but if not I need to show you how special you are. Can I show you?”

You managed a small “Yes Daddy,” as you felt him grin into skin.

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling, “Such a good girl for me pup.”

Much to your vexation Sirius pushed himself off of you but you were settled slightly when you saw him start on the button of his pants before doing the zipper and pulling them down his legs leaving him only in his boxers. 

He resumed his position on top of you, gently taking your hand from where it lay on the bed to place it over the soft material of his worn boxers, “You feel that Puppy? You feel how hard my cock is?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“You did that to me!” He beamed down at you, his hair only slightly obstructing his view of you, “That’s how much I love you, how fucking hot you are, got me so hard so quickly, no time at all baby girl and Daddy’s already desperate for you.”

You were unable to prevent the rush of heat to your face at his comment, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell just how flustered he could make you.

With your agreement Sirius finally pulled down your leggings and panties in one fluid motion, gently pulling them off of your feet before he rid himself of his boxers.

“Fuck, love,” He swore before kneeling before you and pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, “So sexy all splayed out for me on your bed, these legs,” His hands ran up and down your calves before venturing up past your knees to your thighs where they gripped the flesh, not hard enough to bruise but just enough to convey his emotion through his loving touch. 

At his repeated praise you felt your wetness beginning to gather in your pussy, a small knot beginning in the pit of your stomach as he traced his lips up your calves, just barely grazing your flesh tickling your skin.

Once he got to your thighs his small kisses became open mouthed, and wet, leaving trails of saliva in his wake as he started leaving dark bruises on your legs. “I love your legs darling, the way they look in your uniform skirt, your leggings, jeans. Love them so much.” He left a soft kiss on the top of your thigh, taking note of the shiver that ran through your body.

Pushing your thighs apart he inched you closer to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders allowing him to face your pussy head on. “Gonna make you feel so good baby, you deserve to feel good.”

He moved his arms to pin your hips to the bed, giving him more control in what he was about to do. He parted your folds with his nose, allowing him to inhale your scent.

“You smell heavenly Puppy, one of my favorite things about you, your pussy smells like heaven, and fuck does it taste good.”

As if to prove his point he leaned forward, licking a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, letting out a moan at your taste. The vibrations from his moan sent shockwaves through your clit, feeding the knot growing in your stomach you clenched your thighs around his head.

He took it as a sign of encouragement and began sucking on your clit, pulling the sensitive nub between his lips he released hums reveling in the way they made your thighs clench around his head.

You clasped one hand over your mouth in attempts to muffle your moans from spilling out into the dorm room. And though it did do a fine enough job at it, not good enough for Sirius not to hear an especially loud whine when he nipped lightly at your clit.

“Puppy?” He raised his head from between your legs, cocking his head to the side like the puppy that had become synonymous with your name, “Wanna hear you please, want to hear the pretty little noises you make when I eat your cunt.” 

As he spoke he inserted a single finger into your quivering hole, wanting to stretch you out for his cock which was aching and desperate to be buried deep inside of you. With his other hand, he reached for the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, pulling it away from your face to lay on the mattress where he interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

Hoping you would follow his instruction and let him hear you he ducked down to return his mouth to your clit, sucking on the nub again without stopping his finger which was still making its way in and out of your hole. Not satisfied that he was making you feel good enough he inserted a second finger into your cunt, stretching you out even more.

Sirius smiled into your pussy when he heard you moan, “Fuck Siri!” 

“Come on Puppy,” He pressed a kiss to your hip bone, “That’s not my name, you know it, tell me what my name is good girl.”

“Daddy,” You gasped, thrusting your hips further onto his fingers which still continued their agonizingly slow pace, “Daddy, feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” Sirius pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, letting his cheek rest against the soft flesh as he looked up at your writhing, perspiring form, “Gonna stretch you out on one more finger then you should be ready for my cock Pup, one more then I get to be inside of this beautiful cunt.” His gaze drifted to your pussy, which was beautifully swollen for him.

“Please Daddy,” The whimper left your lips with you barely noticing, “Please want your cock.”

“Want to give it to you my love, just gotta get you ready.”

Suddenly feeling the need to be inside of you now, no doubt caused by your begging, he added another finger inside of your cunt, trying not to pay too much mind to the way you clenched around him, afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to think straight.

How could someone’s fingers feel so good? The knot in your stomach continued to get tighter and tighter but you still craved more, you needed him inside of you. 

Simultaneously you breathed both a sigh of relief and released a bereft whimper as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, making a show of bringing them to his mouth where he licked them clean, closing his eyes in pleasure as your taste bled across his tongue. 

“You taste so good Puppy, like candy,” Seeing that you obviously didn’t believe him he leaned down so his body was pressed to your and gently eased your mouth open before collecting spit in his mouth and spitting it into your’s. “See? See how good you taste? My favorite taste in the whole wide world. Swallow for me Puppy,” He grinned as you obeyed, “Good girl,” He praised with a kiss to your forehead.

“Now can you scooch up on the bed for me?” Once you were carefully rested further up on the bed, your head lying on a pillow, Sirius climbed on top of you, lining the weeping head of his prick up with your opening. 

You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips as he fully sheathed himself inside of your heart, the head of his cock prodding at your g spot thanks to the slight curve of the member.

Sirius smiled down at your face which was contorted in pleasure as he guided one of your hands to the base of your stomach, “You feel that? That’s me, that’s how good you take my cock love, I can feel it in your tummy.”

“I can feel it Daddy,” You answered feebly, Sirius’ grey eyes shimmered with adoration and pride as he looked down at your stomach before coming back to meet yours.

“You have the prettiest eyes darling,” He cooed, leaning down to kiss the outer corners of your eyes. He began thrusting in and out of you, his strokes, slow and deep as he took his time pulling out and then pushing back in. 

“So wet for me, slid right in because you were so ready for me baby, and now you’re squeezing me so good.” The praises fell from his lips one after another, wanting to broadcast to you his every thought about how perfect and wonderful you were, hoping that maybe something would be able to get through to you.

The feeling of Sirius inside of you was absolutely heavenly, it was a full feeling unlike any other. His width was just enough to stretch you but not enough to cause too much pain, you wrapped your hands around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he continued moving inside of you. 

“I love you so much, I love you (Y/N), you are my everything darling,” He slowed down his strokes, taking his time with each, “I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you that, but I love you more than I could ever properly tell you. Love you so much that you’re going to make me cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.”

The both of you giggled at that, knowing that Sirius was usually able to go for multiple rounds, and the slight clenching around his prick as a result of your laughter did nothing to help matters. 

“Could you go a little faster Daddy, please?” You asked timidly, needing more stimulation as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten both at the feeling of Sirius nestled deep inside of you and the flattery he kept serving you. 

“Such good manners Puppy,” He took the note quickly, speeding up his thrusts just enough, “Such a pretty girl taking my cock, your pretty hair all splayed out around you, like a halo. Makes you look like the angel you are.”

For some reason his comment had tears ebbing at your eyes, you barely noticed as a few escaped and rolled down your cheeks.

“Puppy, does it hurt? Why are you crying?” Worry was etched across his features as he gazed down at you, ceasing his thrusts.

“I don’t deserve you,” You blubbered, willing the tears to stop, “You’re just too good for me.”

Sirius leaned down, resuming the movement of his hips, kissing the tears off of your skin, “No I’m not, you deserve me Puppy, you deserve me. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.” 

You used your arms to pull his chest against yours as he sped up his thrusts, trying to convince you that you deserved this, “I-I’m going to cum Daddy, gonna cum. Can I cum Daddy?”

“Of course Puppy, cum for me, be a good girl and make a mess all over my cock. Be my little messy bunny, gonna cum with you.”

He rocked his hips against yours three more times before he exploded inside of you, rope after rope of cum coating the inside of your walls as you released around him. Making a mess just as he’d told you to, feeling the knot in your stomach unravel, perhaps not as intensely as usual but so much better.

Your whimpers of “Daddy” quieted as your pleasure overwhelmed you, drowning you in your orgasm as you continued to clench around Sirius’ cock, hips still bucking to meet his.

In his release Sirius repeated “I love you”, over and over again, chanting it like it was a prayer, like a promise.

“I love you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cupid's bow as you unclenched your eyes, “And I’m going to spend the rest of my love showing you just how much.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

[silkenstarlight]

wild cherry sweet (part two)

Summary: Reader is distracted as she and Bucky prepare to embark on their mission at the GRC’s private gala. Bucky decides to help ease her tension.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ only, minors dni!); public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, kissing, brief mention of sugar daddy

Word count: 3.9k

Find part one here

My masterlist

Join my taglist

Author’s note: i didn’t plan a part two for this, but tbh bucky is not the type to let a woman pleasure him without even trying to reciprocate on her

Do not repost! Likes and reblogs are welcome and encouraged :))

“Glasses? Really?”

You pressed your lips together tightly, scrutinizing Bucky’s lackadaisical efforts at putting together a disguise: wayfarer eyeglasses with a thick tortoiseshell frame that pressed awkwardly against his brow bone. You leaned across the center console of the car, and when you reached up to his face, he smiled dopily at you, expecting some loving, gentle caress. But, when you ripped the tag off of the glasses he had just bought at the pharmacy, his jaw clenched, lips turning downward into a chagrined frown. You settled behind the wheel again. 

He seemed strangely excited about the prospect of donning a costume for the mission, so unlike his usual disgruntled self. Even so, his efforts at disguise were last-minute and low-effort. Earlier, before you had left the apartment to drive to the gala’s discreet venue, he had flattened his hair onto his forehead in an uncharacteristic style, reminiscent of the neatly-combed 60’s mop-tops donned by the likes of Ringo Starr. And, when you were slinging on your heels, ready to walk out of the door, he had asked you to dust some eyeshadow below his eyes. He explained that exaggerated dark circles would help to draw his face down and make him appear slightly older. 

You obliged, trying not to let the breath stall in your throat as you traced a cool taupe shade below his eyes in faint crescents. You couldn’t ignore the fact that his eyes were trained on you the whole time.

The way his eyes followed your every move had made you suddenly shy and docile, even though just minutes before, you had been on your knees in front of him, his cock shoved down your throat. After he came, he had brought you up from your knees to a standing position, and had kissed you with the fervor of a man who was just getting started. 

But, you had a mission. Which you were already late for.

You had fixed your hair and lipstick quickly after he had tucked himself back into his pants, a brush and a damp tissue working wonders to conceal your tryst. And then, you were both out of the door, climbing into your car and plugging the gala’s location into Google maps.

But, first, he had insisted on making a stop. You groaned, clutching the wheel tightly as he directed you through traffic towards a pharmacy a few blocks away from the venue. You parallel parked and he jumped out of the car, jaunting into the store with bouncing, confident steps. You left the engine running, eager to get to the gala. The sooner your mission was over, after all, the sooner you could both return to the apartment and resume where you left off.

The thought made you ache, the wetness pooling in your underwear momentarily making you forget the jittery tapping of your foot and the sweat that slicked the creases of your palms. Your stomach flipped when you remembered the blissed-out expression on Bucky’s face as your mouth had bobbed up and down his length, lips popping with a lewd smack as you pulled back--

The passenger door opened and Bucky climbed in with a plastic bag in hand, interrupting your daydreaming and making you jump.

He noticed, settling in his seat and shutting the car door behind him.“Pre-mission jitters?” He asked knowingly.

“Uh-- yeah.” You blushed, choosing not to elaborate.

He simply gave you a smirk, as if he could read your every thought, and pulled his purchase from the plastic bag. A pair of reading glasses. He slid them on, and you scoffed.

“Glasses? Really?” You lightly whacked his arm, laughing. “Who are you, Clark Kent?”

He shrugged. “Well, it seemed to work for him just fine.”

“Alright, just don’t come complaining to me when the magnification in the lenses starts giving you a headache.”

“Noted.”

You pulled out from your parking spot and rejoined traffic, hoping to find a parking space closer to the venue. You didn’t want to use the valet, just in case things went south and you needed a convenient means of escape. So, when you were two blocks away, you parked.

You both climbed out, stepping up to the sidewalk and locking the car as you began to walk. You smoothed your hands nervously over the skirt of your dress, breath slightly shaky. Missions like these were a part of the job description, but you would never get used to the nerves they gave you.

Or, maybe, the possibility of impending doom wasn’t what was giving you nerves.

Maybe it was the man walking next to you.

You bit your lip at the thought, turning your head to look at him.

“What?” he asked, still facing ahead, surveying the streets around them for possible exit points they could use if the evening went south.

You just shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It wasn’t safe to get distracted like this, on a night as potentially dangerous as this one. Instead, you surveyed his body language, noticing that he had adopted a slouch to accompany his floppy hair, gaunt makeup, and glasses.

You snorted. “You look like an old man.”

“I am an old man, thank you very much.” His eyes slid to yours briefly, before facing forwards again.

“Never said it was a bad thing,” you smirked, trying to get a rise out of him before the serious portion of the evening officially began.

He grabbed your wrist suddenly, pulling you flush to his side and wrapping his arm around you.“Oh, I know that you like it,” he whispered, lips brushing against your hair. You felt your throat constrict, and he squeezed your waist before letting you go. “But we’ll have to save that part of the evening for later.”

“If you insist,” you sighed, lacing your voice with faux disappointment, knowing that if there was even a whiff of foul play at tonight’s event, you would both be cool, composed, and on the job, lewd thoughts far from center stage. But, it was fun to tease him, to hope that the gala would be tame, just so that you could go home sooner and do some not-so-tame things with each other.

The venue was a stocky cement building, gray and brutal and unassuming, the windows surprisingly dark. The only indication that it housed a private event was the presence of two guards, their bulky, muscled figures situated on either side of a nondescript metal door. You grabbed Bucky’s hand, fingers intertwining with his, and took a deep breath before you approached the guards.

You cleared your throat. “We’re here for the GRC event.” You clenched your jaw as both guards swept their gazes up and down your’s and Bucky’s bodies.

“Last name?” The one on the right asked gruffly, not bothering to look at your faces, pulling a tablet computer from behind his back to check the guest list.

“Jancovik. Daria Jancovik.” Your voice was steady despite the nerves, the fake name rolling off your tongue.

The guard raised his eyebrows and looked up, stepping to the side and gesturing to the door. “Ah, of course. Miss Jancovik.”

You smiled warmly. Your plan had worked. The real Daria Jancovik, a foreign informer who reported migrants to the GRC, leading to eventual deportation, was on… vacation. You had paid her an earlier visit, advising her to leave the country, to return home and visit her family instead of attending the gala. Bucky had advised you against this approach, claiming that it was too risky, that it would be better to just find a way to sneak in. But, you told him, it was better to enter where the GRC would least expect: the front door. And, it looked like the real Daria Jancovik took your advice-- she obviously wasn’t here.

“Thank you, sir.” You nodded slightly, leading Bucky behind you, hand still clutching his.

“Wait, Miss Jancovik.” The guard barred your entry with an outstretched arm. “The guest list doesn’t say anything about you having a plus one.”

Fuck. You tried not to let your brows furrow, tried to quash the electric feeling of panic that traveled down your spine. You bit your lip and broke into a shy simper, staring up at the guard through fluttering lashes.

“Oh, so sorry, sir,” you drawled slowly, voice dripping with apology. But, your voice shook, a slight tremor belying your confident tone and drawing a suspicious glare from both guards. You hadn’t planned for this. Your palms began sweating again, and your thoughts ran wild, searching for any plausible alibis that would explain your companion. But you couldn’t focus, thoughts erratic and shapeless. Your mouth dropped open, ready to babble some thoughtless, on-the-spot response, when Bucky cleared his throat next to you.

“Sir, I am what you may call a… generous donor.” He enunciated his last words carefully, adopting some strange, implacable and vaguely European accent. His words lilted and swirled lightly in his mouth, further elaborating his mysterious presence.

In spite of this, the guards weren’t convinced. “If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in.”

Bucky simply stared back at him and squinted, deciding to try a more blunt angle. “I have a previous arrangement with this young woman. I… help her with personal causes. Of a financial nature. And, I was hoping to witness her fine employer in action tonight. I am… willing to spread my generosity to its cause, if I find it to be convincing.” You tried to conceal the awe that threatened to spill on your face at his quick save. And, you wanted to laugh at the insinuation that Bucky was your sugar daddy, some stuffy, lonely old man with heavy pockets brimming with cash. In reality, he struggled to pay rent and didn’t own a bed frame. It was comical, watching him trying to swallow his inner protests at the idea, managing his microexpressions with a steady, slightly uncomfortable stare.

You both paused, letting the guard’s mind wander. 

His eyes flickered to his partner briefly before settling back on you. 

The guard considered for a moment, and then simply nodded, avoiding further elaboration from you about your relationship. He stepped aside again. “Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly at him before stepping past him and opening the door, tugging Bucky behind you.

“Wow,” you muttered as the door creaked shut behind you. A looming, dark passage stretching out before you, the dimly lit, bright red door at the end your final barrier to successfully infiltrating the gala. The thrumming pulse of music seemed to make the walls vibrate. You looked at Bucky, and he dropped your hand, flexing his fingers. “The plan actually worked.”

He laughed, and you both started walking toward the red door. “Only because my old man costume came in handy.”

“Well, like you said earlier,” you hissed. “You are an old man.”

He just shook his head slightly at your recall, and when you were both a foot away from the red door’s threshold, you paused. You did a mental check on your weapons, ticking them off on your mental checklist one by one. Handgun in thigh holster, check. Knife in ankle strap, check. Baggie of poison tablets in bra, check--

“You ready?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your last-minute internal review, and you turned to face him. His concerned expression ignited a whole new kind of nerves in your stomach, warm, fluttery electricity travelling down your limbs like lightning. It was a delicious feeling, and you longed to lean into it, to allow yourself to be cocooned by its enticing, buzzing embrace. To allow your tense muscles to relax, to press your body against his, melting into the muscled, statuesque contours and comforting stability of his body. 

You were most definitely distracted, but that’s because you hadn’t had a proper outlet for your pre-mission jitters. Sucking his cock, watching him devolve into a euphoric, aroused state, had only gotten you more worked up than you usually were before missions. You felt embarrassment bubble in your stomach, a deep red blush travelling up your neck at the thought that you couldn’t control yourself in this moment. Your judgement was clouded, all because you couldn’t fucking function around a man like Bucky Barnes.

Bucky grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You felt bad, noticing the genuine concern behind his eyes, but figured it was best to tell him. You didn’t want to lie and endanger the rest of the mission with your preoccupied thoughts. “Umm-- this doesn’t usually happen, but… I’m a bit… distracted.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You huffed a laugh and bit your lip, trying to gain the courage to tell him the truth. “Uh-- I guess I’m still… still stuck on what happened earlier tonight. Before we left the apartment?” You said it like a question, sentence nervously trailing up in pitch at the end.

His expression was unreadable, the pressing dark of the hallway leaving his face in shadow. But then, his teeth flashed in a broad smile. “I remember what happened,” he said fondly, as if you two were reminiscing on a shared memory before entering battle together. “But what’s holding you up about it right now?”

You took a deep breath. Time to come clean. “I’m just still a bit worked up.”

He raised his brows slightly in surprise, then nodded, face settling into an expression of understanding. “That makes sense. You didn’t get your release.”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke around the single syllable, your blush now flooding your cheeks.

“Well,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin and tracing his fingertips lightly along the curve of your neck, trailing them down your spine until settling at your waist. He squeezed slightly, making you gasp. “How quickly could you cum? If I helped you right now?”

You blinked in disbelief, shocked by his vulgar words, but when he just continued to stare at you expectantly, waiting for a response, you realized that he was serious. You scoffed. “I-- I don’t know. Probably pretty quickly.”

“Good.” He pushed you back, your exposed skin meeting the cool cement of the wall, pounding beats and indistinguishable lyrics pulsing through you to your very core. He stared at you for a moment, drinking in your neediness and saving the image of your blown-out pupils and parted lips for later. And then, he bridged the gap between you, resting his forehead against yours before pressing his mouth lightly against yours.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, despite your admission to a desire so pressing, so consuming, that you couldn’t focus on your job. And then, his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, catching it in a faint, erotic bite. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, nipples peaking and wetness pooling in your underwear. You felt his lips curve upwards into a smug smile. You simply pulled him closer, sliding your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He took that as an invitation to push the kiss further, his tongue sliding against your swollen lips, softly prying your mouth open. He was sweet, so gentle and patient, but a sense of urgency drove his actions. He wanted to help you, so that you could release that burning tension coiled inside of you. You had treated him so nicely earlier that evening. He hoped to return the favor. Well, that and he also wanted to watch you cum. 

You shuddered another moan into his mouth and he pulled back a fraction, hands tracing down your sides. He grasped the slinky fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up until it was bunched around your hips, exposing your thin underwear to the cool air and solid press of cement behind you. He let out a low whistle at the sight, the delicate black lace and your soft skin.

You grabbed his wrist, sudden doubt blaring in your brain. “W-wait. What about the mission?”

He simply met your gaze with his, maintaining eye contact while he slowly sunk to his knees in front of you. He twisted his wrist out from your grip, wrapping his hand around one of your ankles and lifting your leg, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Yeah? What about the mission?” 

You could feel his hot breath against your clothed pussy as he answered, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You pressed your head into the wall behind you, trying to fight the urge to twine your hands through his hair and beckon him to where you needed him most. Despite your weak protests, you desperately hoped that he would continue his actions. “Shouldn’t we--”

Your words trailed off into a long, loud moan as he quickly moved your underwear to the side and licked a long, wet stripe up your aching slit. He pulled back slightly to look up at you, and he hummed, pleased at your desperation, your knotted brows rosy cheeks. 

“It’s alright, darling.” He scraped his fingernails teasingly up your other leg, chuckling as it buckled under you at the unexpected stimulation. And then, he settled that hand on your inner thigh, pressing his thumb against the soft skin and circling it lightly in a teasing massage. “We’ll make it quick.”

He waited for you to consent before continuing. You just nodded, not trusting yourself to form words, and he smiled wickedly before dragging his fingers against your wetness and plunging two digits into your center.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, his thick fingers igniting a pleasant ache as they pushed inside of you, stroking your tight walls slowly until they relaxed around him. When he leaned forward, closing his mouth against your clit and flicking it with his tongue, you sighed. He lapped at your wetness eagerly, lips making an obscene smacking sound. You felt your muscles relax, that enticing, stirring warmth quickly travelling through your body as he teased you into a state of relaxed arousal.

He pulled back yet again to look at you, and you wanted to moan at the loss of his tongue, but he replaced it by circling the pad of his thumb against your sensitive nub. He noticed your hands, balled tightly at your sides, and he laughed. 

“You can grab my hair if you want, baby. I don’t mind if everyone in there sees that I have sex hair.” He jutted his chin towards the door as he increased the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you.

That permission was all you needed. You reached forward and twined one hand through his hair, bringing his face closer to you and inviting him to continue his earlier ministrations. Your other hand remained rooted against the wall, a necessary point of balance as he made you fall apart at his command. He replaced his mouth at your center, making you shudder.

It was warm, it was rough, and it was everything you needed. You tried not to think about the risk of intrusion, of the guards outside letting in other guests and getting an eyeful of a private moment. Or, if someone opened the red door and wandered in, they would be right on top of you, close enough to smell the musk of your arousal and see the pebbled peaks of your nipples pressing through the satin of your dress. It would be humiliating. Bucky would never let you live it down, forever reminding you on future missions about the time when you were caught with your legs wrapped around his ears. But, if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of someone walking in and witnessing you, drenched and dirty and moaning all because of him, only served to turn you on even more. A loud moan erupted from your lips, wetness squelching as he curled his fingers inside of you and sucked lewdly. You pulled his hair tightly, urging him on as you came closer and closer to completion.

In response to the sharp tugging of your fingers, he moaned, echoing the shameless sounds that were tumbling from your lips. The faint vibrations, the low, gruff sound of him as he lost himself in the endeavor of giving you pleasure, made you clench around him. A glowing pool of warmth began to form in your stomach, tension building and building. You bit your lip. The feeling of his mouth, sliding and sucking against your clit, and the sensation of his fingers spreading you open and coaxing sweet, high-pitched moans from your lips. It was almost too much. You slapped the wall with your free hand, twitching with pleasure as a deep, burning tension began to build.When his curled fingers rubbed against the spongy, sensitive spot inside of you, that was it.

With a high, keening cry, you fell over the edge, your orgasm wracking your body. A copious gush of wetness flooded from your center, likely drenching his face, and your legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath you. He sensed this, his free hand pressing your hips roughly against the wall, still thrusting his fingers inside of you and suckling your clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, wringing every last ounce of warm, dripping pleasure from your body, not slowing down or stopping until a dull, tired ache bloomed in your center and you had to pull him back by his hair. He grinned up at you, making eye contact with you through his lashes, a slick wetness clinging to his upper lip. He huffed a laugh at the reluctant sucking sound your pussy made when he slipped his fingers out.

You rolled your eyes and he guided your leg off of his shoulder, making sure it was planted firmly on the ground before moving your underwear neatly back into place. He rose from his kneeling position. As he grasped your waist, your skirt fell back down around you in a dramatic curtain, and he pulled you close, kissing you lightly. The taste of you on his lips was intoxicating.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, and stared at you with a half-lidded, deeply satisfied expression. He had liked making you come apart just as much as you had appreciated the release.

“Uh oh,” he whispered, grabbing your chin and examining your face. “Looks like we ruined your lipstick again.”

You laughed, a raspy, tired sound, and smacked his chest lightly, stepping back. “Well,” you sighed, smiling up at him. “I don’t mind. I’ll go straight to the bathroom to fix it. Brought an extra tube of lipstick in my purse for any… potential touch-ups.”

He raised his eyebrows, smoothing a hand over his mussed hair and straightening the cuffs of his sleeves. “Sounds like you planned for this to happen.”

You shook your head. “Only subconsciously.”

He grinned, and you both turned to face the red door. Despite the fact that just moments before, you were writhing around his fingers, wanton moans swallowed by the diffused thump of techno music, you felt serene, ready to jump into action. No more distracting thoughts clouded your mind.

“Ready?” He asked, reaching for the knob, waiting for your confirmation before continuing.

You nodded in affirmation and smiled, eyes crinkling. 

“Ready.”

He turned the knob and swung the door open. You walked through the doorway side by side, partners in crime, ready to meet whatever awaited you beyond its threshold.

[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

“I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

[thelargefrye]

MR. HOUSEDAD. when their kids crash their vlive.

── summary. how ateez reacts to their kids crashing their vlive.

── roles. dad!ateez + the ateez kids

── genre. parent + slice of life + idol + fluff + humor

── warnings. tiny bit of language (like one word)

── early access. @yunderland​

── producer’s note. sorry if some are a little longer than others! i’m working on dad!ateez writing skills lol.​

HONGJOONG.

saemi (four) and narae (one).

hongjoong was doing his usually vlive in his studio, just talking to atiny when his door suddenly opens. he turns around not expecting to see any visits from the members, but instead of the members it’s saemi slipping through the door with narae holding her hand. 

“what are you two doing?”

“narae wanted to see you.” 

hongjoong turns to pick up narae and sets her in his lap before letting saemi do the same. the three of them now sitting together as hongjoong turns back to look at the camera.

“looks like we have some surprise guests, atiny,” the comments would explode with how cute his daughters were. “ah, atiny are saying you guys are cute.” 

“i know,” saemi replied back as she held her father’s hand. meanwhile, narae would try to figure out why she can see the three of them on hongjoong’s phone. 

“saemi what’s your favorite song?” hongjoong had read out loud when he saw the comment go by. 

“fancy!” saemi said with a smile before she asked her dad to play it. hongjoong did as she asked before she hoped off his lap once the music began. hongjoong scooted his chair back a little in order to give his daughter room to dance. 

the whole time saemi danced, hongjoong had a smile on his face as narae laughed as well. the one year old do her best to dance in her dad’s lap as she tried mimic her sister’s actions.

when the chorus hit, saemi not only danced but sung the best she could and very loudly. this caused narae to laugh and clap as saemi danced passionately. when the song was over, hongjoong saw how tired saemi was and pulled back into his lap so she could cool off. 

“you danced very well,” hongjoong complimented before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“i know.”

hongjoong would eventually just carry on with his vlive, talking to both atiny and his girls before noticing narae slowly dosing off in his lap. 

“ah, well i guess we should go. bye atiny!” hongjoong said, waving with a smile to the camera as saemi leaned forward as far as she could without falling off of hongjoong’s lap.

“bye atiny!” saemi would say waving her tiny hand in the front of the camera before hongjoong ended the live.

SEONGHWA.

hyemi and hyewon (three) and jihoon (two).

“appa!” 

seonghwa would be in the middle of talking with hongjoong when hyemi would come in rather loudly. seonghwa would watch her make her way over to him, standing between her father and hongjoong.

“what are you doing, baby?”

“jihoon’s crying.”

“what? why?”

“uncle woo scared him when we were playing,” the practice room door opened again and the three watched as wooyoung came in holding a wailing jihoon with hyewon following behind him. 

seonghwa got up immediately and took his son into his arms, cooing at his son to get him to stop crying. 

“is uncle woo gonna get in trouble?” hyemi asked looking at hongjoong as hyewon walked into view of the camera to join her uncle and sister.

“i think appa’s going to beat uncle woo up,” seonghwa would quickly tell atiny he would be right back leaving his twins with hongjoong as he stepped outside the practice room. 

“what are you doing?”

“we’re doing a vlive, talking to atiny.”

“how come we can’t see them?” hongjoong did his best to explain vlive to the three year olds before realizing that everything was just going in one ear and out the other. after a few minutes, seonghwa came back with jihoon, who had stopped crying. 

“jihoon! are you okay?” jihoon only nodded as seonghwa came to sit back down after grabbing another chair as his daughters took over his previous one. 

“appa, did you beat uncle woo up?” hyewon asked looking at her dad with curious eyes as hyemi did the same thing. 

“no, he didn’t mean to make jihoon cry. did he buddy?” seonghwa asked, looking down at jihoon who shook his head. seonghwa smiled before patting his son’s head.

the five, or actually four since jihoon doesn’t talk all that, continue the vlive until it’s time to end it and they all say bye.

“bye-bye!”

YUNHO.

taeyong (five) and taerim (eight months).

yunho was just talking to atiny when the practice room door opened. like with hongjoong, he thought it was another member, but was happy to see taeyong walking into the room with a smile. 

“what are you doing, buddy? did you escape from mom and taerim?”  

“taerim fell asleep, so i wanted to come hangout with you. what are you doing?” 

“i’m talking to atiny, come say hi.” 

taeyong would peak around the camera, super close up to it causing to yunho to laugh. “hi atiny!” rip all headphone users.

“taeyong don’t be too loud okay.”

“okay,” taeyong would come to sit with yunho on his lap and the two would begin talking before taeyong began talking about dinosaurs. 

yunho allowed taeyong to tell atiny about dinosaurs even if most of them might not understand what exactly the five year old was talking about. of course, yunho did notice that a lot of the comments were just calling taeyong cute and how similar he looked to yunho. 

“taeyongie,” yunho said, putting his hand on said boys head, catching his attention, “are you gonna talk about dinosaurs the whole time?”

“yes,” yunho couldn’t help but laugh at how blunt his answer was. the door then opened which caught both male’s attention as taeyong’s face quickly brightened up.

“taerim!” he said, causing yunho to smile as he watched you come into the practice room with your daughter in your arms. “taerim is my little sister!” taeyong said rather proudly as you handed the eight month old to her dad. taeyong got off of yunho’s lap in order to stand next this dad and sister. 

yunho had noticed the staff wanting him to wrap the live up and he smiled before he spoke, “atiny! i hope you enjoyed watching and learning about dinosaurs. taeyong do you want to tell them bye?”

taeyong nodded excitedly before going up to the camera like he did when he showed up, “BYE!” rip headphone users.

YEOSANG.

aeri (five months).

yeosang was actually at home when he did his vlive. aeri was resting in her little swing when yeosang turned the live on.

“hi, atiny. i’m home right now watching aeri.” the comments immediately went crazy asking yeosang if they could see her because this would be the first time the fans would see the youngest ateez baby. 

it was a big moment in ateez history. yeosang would find the comments funny and would eventually show her to the camera when she began to whine a little bit. 

atiny would probably cry as they watched yeosang hold her and talk to her in order to calm her down just a little bit. when aeri did settle back down, she eventually feel asleep in yeosang’s arms. 

“thankfully, since she’s still young, all aeri wants to do is eat and sleep,” yeosang begins as he carefully places her back in her little swing. 

yeosang then begins talking to atiny who are still commenting about how cute yeosang looked as a dad now making him blush a little, “at first i was nervous about becoming a dad, but now, finally having her with me, i know that i’ll be okay and that i’m learning new things just like she is.” 

yeosang then starts to talk about other things, but mostly about aeri as atiny notice his eyes continuously going back to her, who was still asleep next to him. 

yeosang only decided to end the vlive once you got home, waving and saying goodbye as he promises to bring aeri back on when she’s a little bigger.

SAN.

raim (four).

raim crashed the vlive before it was even live. she loved being with her dad while he was at work, so he often brought her to the company when he could. and today was when san was planning to go on vlive, which raim decided to be a part of.

“raim, what are we doing right now?” san asked when the vlive started and atiny from all over started to pour in to watch.

“uhh, talk to atiny!” raim said excitedly with a smile.

“yes! and what else?”

“eat ice cream!” raim said and san looked at her confused by what she said. 

“ice cream?”

“you eat ice cream with uncles all the time, so you have to eat it with me!” she said with a pout. san couldn’t help but coo at how cute his daughter looked. 

“i guess we can go get ice cream,” san says as he fixes raim’s pigtails, “atiny, do you want to go on a field trip with us?”

all the comments said yes which immediately made raim happy as she noticed a bunch of smiley faces appear in the comments. hoping off of san’s lap, she tugged on his hand to get him to come with her. 

her and san then traveled downstairs to the 7/11 below the company and walked around till they got to the ice cream. san allowed raim to pick out all the ice cream before buying it and headed back up to the practice room. 

“better?” san asked as they sat back down and began eating their ice cream. raim smiled cutely, letting out a laugh as she nodded her head. 

the two began eating the ice cream while one of the members, wooyoung, appeared and tried to steal some of the ice cream before raim scolded him.

a lot of the comments talked about how cute raim while also commenting on how cute san looked as well. 

“raim,” san said earning his daughter’s attention. san laughed as he wiped off the ice cream that was on her face. “let’s make hearts for atiny, yeah?”

“yes!” the two then made several different size hearts, smiling brightly to the camera before they made an attempt to make one heart together. although while it wasn’t perfect, it was the thought that counted. 

“bye, atiny! see you later!!” san said with him and raim waving before the live ended.

MINGI.

moongyu (two).

mingi actually brought moongyu into the vlive with him. atiny had asked mingi to show off his outfit, which prompted the rapper to want to show off his son’s own outfit. 

“moongyu, come here, please,” mingi would call and everyone could hear the sound of loud footsteps hitting the floor before the top of moongyu’s head was seen. “me and moongyu are wearing matching outfits today,” he would add before picking his son up. 

comments flooded in talking about how cute both mingi and moongyu looked causing mingi to smile as he sat back down. now with moongyu in the chair next to him.

“he’s my little fashion buddy,” he said, softly caressing his son cheek causing the two year old to let out a small giggle. 

mingi would then go to read comments, reading out all the ones that commented on his and moongyu’s outfits and ones the called moongyu a fashionista.

“moongyu’s going to grow up being a fashionista,” mingi read out loud before agreeing with the comment. 

like father, like son! both are fashionistas!! 

mingi couldn’t help but laugh at the comment he saw, scratching the back of his neck, “actually... y/n was the one who picked our outfits out today. y/n, love, thank you!” mingi said while making a heart with his arms. 

moongyu looked up at his dad before quickly trying to copy what mingi was doing. 

“do you know who we’re making hearts for?”

“eomma!!” mingi nodded as the two continued to act cute and make hearts.

“and atiny!” mingi added after remembering thousands of atiny were watching. “moongyu, say something to atiny.”

“atiny...” moongyu pauses for a moment before looking at his dad, “appa, what’s atiny?”

“atiny are the ones who are watching us right now and support appa and your uncles.”

“oooh,” mingi then watched as his son hoped out of his chair before moving closer to the camera, his face overtaking most of the screen. “bye, atiny!”

mingi looked at his son in shocked before––

the broadcast has ended!

WOOYOUNG.

mikyung and mihyeon (three).

wooyoung was doing some dance covers was in the middle of finding a different song to dance to when mihyeon came in. wooyoung didn’t that she had entered the room, but fans did. they immediately started commenting about how cute mihyeon.

“mihyeon?” wooyoung was confused before turning around to see his youngest standing not too far from him. “what’s wrong, mihyeonie?” 

he watched as mihyeon walked towards her dad which allowed wooyoung to take her into his arms. 

“i saw you dancing and i want to dance too,” she said making wooyoung smile and brush some stray hairs out of her face. 

“what song do you want to dance to?”

“ponytail!” wooyoung sigh at his daughter’s answer. sometimes he regrets letting yeosang show his girls the ponytail song, as that’s all he’s been listening to for months now. the humanoid penguins now haunting his dreams even. 

but, wooyoung doesn’t want to make his daughter sad, so he agrees before searching for the song as mihyeon cheers. when the song begins to play, wooyoung moves him and mihyeon away from the camera so they can dance.

they were only a few seconds into the song before the door swung open with mikyung running in and immediately began dancing beside her sister. wooyoung couldn’t help but laugh as he stopped dancing to watch his daughters dance.

when the song was over both girls wanted to dance to it again, “appa! play it again!” mikyung said with her sister agreeing next to her.

“don’t you two want to dance to something else? how about i teach you one of my songs?”

“no! you’re songs are hard! ponytail!” mikyung said, stomping her foot on the ground. atiny could honestly only watch in amusement as wooyoung was soon defeated by his daughters and he played the song again. 

“yah! atiny, don’t laugh at me it only encourages them more!”

JONGHO.

jaehwa (one).

jaehwa was originally with yunho while jongho did his vlive, but then he heard his dad start to sing and immediately escaped to go find him. 

he would waddle down the hallway until yunho eventually picked him which would cause him to start crying. 

he wants his papa bear, damnit, not his golden retriever uncle. 

“oh, jaehwa, what’s wrong? do you want to see appa?” yunho asked before going to take the young boy to his dad. 

jongho was singing a song only half-serious when the practice door opening caught his attention. he immediately smiled as he continued to sing, his phone being placed down as he held his arms out. 

when jaehwa was brought into view for atiny to see, the comments exploded with how cute the maknae’s son was. yunho quickly waved to their fans before leaving the father son duo alone plus the staff. jongho continued to sing as he looked at his son, who in turned looked at his dad.

“you like when appa sings, don’t you?” jongho laughed as he spoke to his son cutely. he then turned jaehwa towards the camera for atiny to see as jongho took his son’s hand to wave at the camera. “hi, atiny!” jongho says as if jaehwa was the one talking. “i’m choi jaehwa, the gummy bear!”

jongho laughed as he sat jaehwa down in his lap before going back to talking to atiny about different things. mostly answering small questions they had about jaehwa. 

“lately, jaehwa has been drinking his milk by himself, which i’m really proud of. he’s been trying to do it for a while now, so the fact that he finally achieved it... just makes me proud.”

after a little more time of jongho talking to atiny and playing with jaehwa, jongho decided to end the vlive. “bye-bye!”

[eclipsedpascal]

You Deserve This

Andy Dolan x Female Reader

GIF by @kissxmedeadly !!

“The reader asking Andy about his kiddo (let's pretend is a lil boy 🤣) and him being very emotional about it and the reader who truly loves him conforts him 😭❤️” - anon

Please read the warnings!!

Warnings: use of drugs (weed), smut, oral (female receiving), slight public sex, slight angst, mentions of rehab, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a lil bit of crying and VERY slight Eden spoilers, but thats only if you don't want to know anything AT ALL, so basically none? idk lmao:)

Notes: hi! So this is my first Andy fic, I wrote it very quickly last night after a sudden burst of inspiration and it doesn't make too much sense, also it’s kinda cheesy? I don't think I've ever written anything this angsty or soft before, but i’m trying to be more in touch w my emotions nd this is my way of doing that, so hopefully i'll do more things like this soon:) also if you’re interested, the title is one of my favourite songs by Men I Trust that I just thought fit Andy well.

Word count: 1.8k

●●●●●●●●

The warm, dancing breeze washed over your skin, plucking up your many goosebumps and blowing the rainbow coloured sea of petals that decorated the large garden from left to right. The bittersweet mix of their fragrances and Andy’s blunt rushed to you and filled your scrunched up, wrinkled nose as you let out a loud laugh. The vibrant expanse of fluffy grass felt close to a mattress underneath you, cradling your form whilst you laid amongst the greenery and watched Andy ghost a deep inhale of the blunt he had balanced precariously between two fingers. He flopped his arm across the gap between you and offered you another toke, the dopey smile spread over his features making you laugh even more.

“What’s so funny? Hmm?” He questioned you jokingly, rolling onto his forearms and bringing his face to hover just above yours as you brought the blunt to your lips. You couldn't hold in your laughter, your drug hazed state and the breeze that pushed his brown curls to tickle your blushing skin only exaggerating your amusement further as you choked out clouds of smoke.

“What??” He joined in laughing, finding humour in his own confusion and finding your laugh infectious. His lips found your own in a sudden yet gentle kiss which you gladly embraced, still not managing to fully compose yourself as you giggled into his open mouth.

You did your best to pull back from the kiss, but were reminded you didn't really have anywhere to go when you felt a blade of grass flutter against your ear. “It’s just.. your smile.” You rested your blunt carrying hand on his cheek as you spoke, feeling your heart swell when he pulled an overdramatic expression of insult at your reply.

“What’s so wrong with my smile?!” He half faked offence, not understanding what you could possibly find so amusing about it as you giggled more and more. “What’s wrong with it?- is it my lips? ‘They not good enough for you baby?” His thick accent aided his voice, making him sound even more attractive than he already was as he joked with you.

“Noo! it definitely wasn’t your lips, cause I love those.” You gripped his locks a little firmer, biting your lip as his stare changed from one of curiosity to one of want.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned back down and kissed you again, but this time rougher, the weed made you feel as if his lips were slowly melting into your own as it sent strong signals of lust through your body. He put all his weight on one arm, lifting the other and groping your waist with it whilst simultaneously moving to trail wet kisses down your neck.

His touches were deep, yet executed so delicately it convinced you if he was any rougher, you might just break. He opened the buttons of the flowing shirt you wore; one you had stolen out of his wardrobe that morning. He moved his head further down your chest to your stomach, mouth racing in slow motion to reach you were he wanted to most.

Forgetting to explain why you found his smile so funny in the first place, your high carried your thoughts closer towards how incredible his mouth felt on your skin, making you lean into his touch and let out a few small mewls.

As he reached your panty line, he tapped your hip, signalling for you to lift them so he could take your shorts off. He slid them off your legs in a quick, smooth motion that had them landing on a nearby lavender bush. The garden had quite a large variety of blossoming shrubbery and many clusters of beautiful flowers, it was probably down to the bi-weekly gardeners Andy had hired. You had known they were expensive and after spending so much time like this, lazing around, surrounded by the expensive home’s nature, you were beginning to understand why he had hired them.

You returned your gaze from the dangling shorts, back to the man nestled between your bare thighs. His beard was scratching at your skin in the best way possible as he laid small kisses over the thin fabric that covered your cunt. His hot breathe felt like fire as you wriggled and squirmed below him, just wanting some kind of contact from him.

He used two fingers to peel your panties to the side, groaning at the site of your glistening folds before kissing your clit gently. His tongue started swiping across your cunt slowly, taking all the time in the world to make you feel as good as he knew he could. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his hair once more as he sucked on you deeply.

“Mr Dolan?” You were interrupted by a throat clearing before hearing a man speak; one of Andy’s many servants you guessed. They had never seemed to leave the two of you alone whilst you had been staying there. No matter how big his home was, you always seemed to find another at every corner.

Andy looked up to the man with question and annoyance, raising an eyebrow at him as he wished for him to just hurry up and leave so the two of you could continue with your escapades. “It’s the phone for you Mr Dolan. Your son.”

Andy quickly rose from his place below you, his mind abandoning all thought of the act he was just partaking in as he jogged past the glass doors of his home, wanting only to speak to the young boy.

You sat up slightly, doing up a few buttons of your shirt and laying your crossed legs to the side of you as you held yourself up with your arm. You watched him as he scrambled into the house after his servant, little red marks from where he had been lying in the grass next to you were noticeably imprinted on the skin of his left arm, the one he had been leaning on, and his open shirt was flowing behind him with the speed he was moving.

You looked down to the flowers on front of you, picking a single daisy that bore tinted, pink tips on the end of each slim, white petal, twirling the stem around between two of your fingers as you listened to the breeze pick up. You could feel the mood of the air change as he left, the wind feeling more cold an irritating than once before as you pondered the call Andy was having.

You knew how desperate he had been to speak to his son again. It had been months since he had spoken to him without his ex-wife being the messenger. He missed him more than he knew to describe.

His recent divorce had been what had fuelled him to return home to Eden; hoping to find solace in the paradise he knew so well after feeling as if he had lost himself entirely. Spending too many years constantly playing other people had taken more of a toll on him than he had realised, that was until he was sent to rehab. After getting out, he felt as if staying in Eden was the only way for him to climb out of the dark hole he had managed to find himself in. Unfortunately, this journey of finding himself had meant making the decision to leave his son behind in Los Angles. Something he didn't like to speak on much.

When you had first met him in rehab however, he had been extremely open about his life, telling you how anger was the only emotion he could really feel anymore. Explaining that if he wasn’t at least the slightest amount intoxicated, he didn't think he couldn't go on with living; especially after the recent downfall of his career being showcased for the entire world to see. It was dark stuff, but you understood each other. That’s a big part of what made you grow so close.

You picked off petal after petal from the daisy, watching its beauty fade with each pluck and letting each one slowly blow into the breeze, creating a tragic stream as they blew away from you and down to the not so far off shoreline. As you plucked the last petal, you admired the daisy, still glowing with pollen and beaming in the sunlight despite have lost so many important parts of it. You stuck it into your shirt pocket and fell back down to lay on the grass as you waited for Andy to finish his call.

It had been maybe ten minutes you were lying with your eyes closed, enjoying the heat that beamed down from the clear, Australian sky when you finally heard the slow footsteps that you knew to be Andy’s, pattering along the grass. You shot up from where you lay to see the dopey-smiled man who had left you in the garden just fifteen minutes before, only to be faced with a red-eyed, teary one.

“Andy what happened? Are you okay?” He fell down onto the grass besides you, staring at you but completely wordless. You felt as if you could see into his soul. He was feeling so many emotions he hadn’t even been able to grasp at in so long. It was overwhelming him and you knew it. You reached out to stroke is cheek, concern running through you for the man that you had grown to love so dearly over the past few months.

He looked up “She’s gonna let me see him. T-They’re coming over next month.” A tear fell from his face as he smiled harder than you had ever seen him smile before. He was finally going to see his son after all these long months and you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

“Really?! That’s amazing, oh my god!” You moved forwards, wrapping your arms over his large shoulders and squeezing him in a hug so full of love it was palpable. “You really got to speak to him this time?” You questioned him once more before pulling away from his grasp, thinking back to the many times his ex-wife had promised he could speak with the boy but decided at the last minute he wouldn’t get to.

“Yeah!.. he uhh,” He took in a shaky breath, chuckling with joy as he recalled hearing the young boy’s voice so filled with excitement and energy over the phone. “He said he couldn't wait to meet you! You know, when I told him about you.” He stumbled over his words, running a hand through his hair as he shook with nerves, doing his best to calm himself.

In that moment, you felt your love for him soar higher than it ever had before. You were so proud of the progress he had made, and you knew his son would be too. “And I cant wait to meet him either.” You rested your forehead against his, the two of you enjoying a stand still and bathing in the happiness you both felt in the beautiful moment. The sound of the ever present breeze occupied your ears as the laughter emitting from two of you joined it, echoing a song throughout the garden that wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon.

●●●●●●●●

Thank you sm for reading!!🥺💗

Tags: @celestialrequiem @ntxoza @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @blakescoven @ritualmichael @ghostangels @fernfiction @ferndolan @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @kitty4860 @lavenderahs @michaellangdonstanaccount @9layerdevilfoodcake @chicaluna2410 @plymptxn-reborn I've just tagged anyone who I thought might be interested as per usual, but if you would to be removed feel free to let me know!! you can also lemme know if you would like to be added to the tag list too:)

[legends-live-in-memories]

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.  

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.  

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”  

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.  

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

[markosmate]

taken away

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// Woohoo y’all part 4 and we’re finally getting into the good stuff, only two more chapters till the smut ;)

Part 3   -   Part 5

“Where you going, Star?” My eyes snapped up to the owner of the voice, and they temporarily widened when I realized it was the same man the girl had left with the night prior. Apparently, her name was Star. His gaze was sharp, a silent warning that she better not defy him and proceed to get on Michael’s bike.

“For a ride. This is Michael.” She explained softly, gaze never leaving the mullet man. My own gaze flicked away from the conflict and towards my right where not even two feet away sat Marko, sitting atop his bike, and eyes already on me. He grinned a devilish kind of smile when my eyes met his and he sent me a small wink when I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away for a good few seconds.

“Let’s go.” Michael’s voice broke me out of it as he continued to try and get Star to leave with him. It didn’t work.

“Star.” Mr. Mullet warned. My eyes flicked between him and Star as she finally gave up and stepped away from Michael’s bike, grabbing the man’s shoulder and hoisting herself onto the back of his bike. I raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding the dynamic of whether or not they were together.

Once Star was seated comfortably and the dark-haired biker pulled the small child onto the back of his bike, Mr. Mullet turned his attention back to Michael. “You know where Hudson’s Bluff is? Over-looking the point?”

Michael scoffed a bit and shook his head. “I can’t beat your bike.”

Mullet grinned deviously and revved his engine. “You don’t have to beat me, Michael. You just have to try and keep up.” Before any of them made a move to leave, his gaze flicked to mine. “You’re more than welcome to tag along, doll. Wouldn’t want to leave a girl like yourself here alone.” And despite everything screaming in my head that I would be crazy to leave with these guys, and that I promised myself I wouldn’t associate with them and would turn in the other direction if they even glanced at me, I nodded.

His face lit up in an arrogant smirk and before I could even make the move to mount the back of Michael’s bike, Marko locked his gaze onto mine. “You could ride with me sweet thing, I’ll keep you safe. Promise.” There was a teasing tone to his words, and I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet name, but accepted his invite nonetheless. I hated riding with Michael, he was always jerky with the steering and switching between going way too fast and way too slow. These dudes couldn’t possibly be worse drivers than him, no matter where they were taking us to.

I pushed myself up and off the railing and walked around the side of his bike. I didn’t miss the victorious smiles the two long-haired blonds sent each other, but I chose to ignore it. I grabbed his shoulders and hoisted myself up onto the seat behind him. He looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and whispered quietly to me. “Hold on.” I listened to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso and holding on for dear life as they set off. 

The four bikes sped down the boardwalk, weaving between crowds of people and almost hitting a few concession stands, and finally the boys all quite literally jumped the staircases onto the beach sand. They must have done that a thousand times, because Marko was able to steady the bike as soon as it hit the sand and he kept going as fast as possible without ever making a move to slow down. I lifted my face from being buried in the back of his shoulder and turned my head to see how Michael was holding up.

He seemed to slow his bike to a stop at the top of the staircase, hesitating and debating his options, before eventually opting to rev the bike down the stairs. His back tire kicked out as he hit the sand, but he quickly balanced the vehicle back out again. Once I knew he was safely traveling behind us, I turned back around to face the direction we were heading in. The boys seemed to be riding in a kind of diamond shape so they could all make eye contact with each other if need be. From my spot, I caught sight of Star turning to catch a glance of Michael before turning to face forward and grin happily as the boys cheered. 

I loosened my grip on Marko’s middle slightly, but not too much because I liked being this close to him in a weird sort of way. He turned his head to cheer with Paul who was laughing his ass off on his own bike a few yards away. I laughed and pressed my cheek to his shoulder blade to watch the ocean as we drove across the entirety of the beach. Soon the bikes moved into a line instead of the previous diamond, and we were speeding through the wooden stakes of the pier and swerving over a dirt path leading through the woods.

Finally, we emerged from the woods into a large cloud of fog, something completely abnormal at this time in the night and near this close to the bluff. I hugged myself closer to Marko as he, and the two other bikers pulled off to the side to let Michael and Mr. Mullet play a rather dangerous game of chicken leading towards the edge of the point.

At the last moment, Michael laid down his bike, skidding to a stop just before he plummeted over with his front tire hanging inches off the edge. Mullet braked his bike just in time, and he and Star stared out over the edge down towards the waves crashing against the bank. Marko and the two others quickly stopped their bikes as Michael stood sharply and whirled on Mullet.

I quickly stood from the bike and moved off to the side to get out of the boys’ way. The three bikers pushed themselves off their bikes, laid them down to the ground, and quickly moved closer as Michael ran towards Mullet. “What the hell you doing, huh?”

“No!” Star’s short scream of protest cut through the air as Michael pulled his fist back before punching Mullet clean across the face. The three others of the group quickly grabbed ahold of my brother and yanked him backwards, but he reciprocated just as fast and used both arms to shove back the dark-haired biker and Marko on either side of him.

He pointed at Mullet and began speaking once more. “Just you, come on! Just you.” He repeated, glaring Mullet down as the biker turned to look back at Michael with an eerily calm grin. “Come on, just you.” Michael mumbled again as Marko turned to grin at the other blond at his side.

“How far you willing to go Michael?” He mocked, watching with calculated eyes at Michael’s next move. Mullet gestures for his three friends to head down into the cave, and they all disperse from the three and begin to move their bikes so they’re out of sight. Before I can even try to make my way over to Michael to check if he’s alright, a pair of arms wraps around my waist from behind and swings me for a short moment. I let out a short squeak of a laugh, deciding that the chances of it being Marko are very high and there was no need for me to panic at the contact.

The wind blows hard from behind us, and a few locks of curly hair are blown forward across my shoulders. That confirms it, I note to myself.

After Michael’s and Mullet’s bikes are hidden away with the others, the eight of us make our way down a set of stairs that lead to an opening in the rock. The dark-haired boy leads us, a large burning stick in his hand that he uses to light a couple of fires around the cave.

The glam-rocker dude jumped down the last rock hand-in-hand with the young child. “Rock bottom, bud.”

“Yeah.” The kid laughed along, moving off to the side towards a large radio speaker. Marko gripped the loop of my jeans, pulling me to jump off the last rock and land next to where he was standing. I tore my eyes away from where Michael was to look at the curly-haired boy next to me. He was watching what Mullet was doing, not looking me in the eyes, but a smirk curled his lips when he noticed me staring.

As Mullet began explaining the history behind the cave we were in, Marko scooped a pigeon up from where it was picking at crumbs, and held it against his check as he pulled my belt loop to have me leaning against one of his legs. “Not bad, huh? This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago.” Mullet’s voice echoed through the cave as glam-rocker leaned down to grab the heavy radio from the kid. “Too bad they built it on a fault. In 1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, this place took a header-” He clapped his gloved hands together loudly as he walked around the fountain and in the direction of the corner where Marko and I stood. “- right into the crack. So now it’s ours.”

“So check it out, Mikey.” Glam rocker teased from on top of the fountain, busying himself with lighting a blunt. The guys all laughed at his teasing, before Mullet turned to where Marko and I were standing. 

“Marko,” Said boy immediately stood a bit straighter, shifting from foot to foot and loosening his hold on the pigeon and I. “Food.” Marko gave a short nod, letting the pigeon go and turning to me. He jokingly kissed my cheek before whispering a little too softly into my ear.

“Be back soon, sweet thing.” When he pulled back he was sporting a large Cheshire grin, and he winked as I smacked his hair with a small laugh before turning and hopping back up the rocks we originally came down.

Now that he was gone, I couldn’t make myself look occupied and avoid contact with any of the other boys. I watched as Mullet held the blunt glam-rocker had given him up to Michael and offered it to him as an appetizer. Michael declined, and while Mullet’s attention was diverted I analyzed everyone else to see who the most approachable was. I decided on glam-rocker, shyly moving over to the couch he was seated on and plopping down next to him.

He grinned at me when he saw me make myself comfortable. “Hey, babe. Nice to meet you.”

I smiled back at him and gripped the hand he was offering to me, shaking it firmly. “Ivory.”

He laughed, almost a disbelieving kind of laugh, before locking eyes with me again. “Oh, we already know. Marko told us. I’m Paul, that’s Dwayne,” He pointed towards the dark-haired one sitting on the furniture opposite of us who sent me a small smile and tiny wave. I waved back before keying back into what Paul was saying. “And that’s David. You might wanna start calling him his name, I don’t think he takes too kindly to just ‘Mullet’.”

I felt my face flush and my eyes shot back to lock onto Paul’s. “Oh no, have I been calling him that out loud?”

I don’t remember calling him that out loud at all to be completely honest, but Paul grinned back at me like he knew something that I didn’t and went right along with it. “Oh yeah, definitely. Like three times, if I’m telling you the truth.”

I shot him a bewildered look before laughing. “Well, great first impression for the scary one I guess.”

Paul chuckled along with me. “Hey, you’re after Marko right now, if there’s anyone to be labeled the scary one - other than David - it’s him.”

I shrugged at his words. “My feelings for the blond can’t be helped.” I quite enjoyed this little banter we had going back and forth, it was flowing easily and I enjoyed being able to have an ongoing conversation with someone without it turning awkwardly quiet halfway through. After a little more banter between Paul and myself, footsteps echoed across the rocks and Marko jumped down into the cave.

“Feeding time, come and get it boys!” He called out voice echoing. 

“Alright.” Paul cheered quietly as Marko carried the large box towards where David was sitting in his wheelchair.

“Chinese... Good choice.” David complimented when he saw the food inside the carryout box. Marko handed a container to David, before turning and tossing one to Dwayne.

“Over here bud.” Paul called out and Marko tossed one to him as well. The curly-haired biker then pulled out another container and leaned over to hand it to me, shooting a small smile my way when I thanked him.

I leaned back against the couch, Paul at my side, and watched as David opened up the box of rice in his hands. He took a bite of it before leaning over and offering some to Michael. “Guests first.”

“No.” Michael politely declined, holding up his hand and shaking his head softly. “You don’t like rice? Tell me Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” David questioned, his joke causing the other boys to laugh at Michael’s expense. Mike snorted quietly before leaning over and excepting the rice, pulling the fork out and taking a bite.

I shifted in my seat, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching as David grabbed another box from Marko’s hands. A weird feeling filled my chest as I watched David look up at Michael instead of continuing to pick at his noodles.

“How are those maggots?” David’s voice suddenly broke the air and my eyebrows shot up. Michael looked up at him, eyebrow quirking and eyes filling with confusion.

“Hm?”

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots, how do they taste?” Michael rolled his eyes at what David was saying but looked down at his box nonetheless. I followed in his steps and brought my gaze down to my own box. Rice, that’s all that was in mine. My eyebrows furrowed and I lifted my gaze over to Michael’s box and had to physically fight myself against gasping aloud. Maggots wiggled around each other, almost completely overflowing from the container. Mike’s eyes widened and he threw the box to the floor, leaning to the side to spit out the creatures while the four boys laughed and Star protested against what was going on.

Mike reached up, and grabbed a piece of rice from his lip before looking back down at the box. We both stared in disbelief as the contents spilled on the floor weren’t even close to resembling maggots anymore - now all that sat there was the same rice in the rest of the boxes. “Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?”

“Nah.” Michael shook his head, obviously trying to play it off cool as I switched my gaze between the spilled rice and David, who shoved his chopsticks into the noodles he was holding. How had he done that? I had clearly seen maggots rummaging in the take-out container, but the next second they were back to looking like parcels of rice.

Suddenly, David leaned over and offered Michael the box of noodles in his hand. “Why don’t you try some noodles?”

I watched Michael physically recoil from the offered food and I was almost scared to look down and see what it was this time. “They’re worms.” Michael wasn’t lying, I caught a glimpse of the box before David pulled it back to himself and there were, indeed, clumps of worms twisted around each other.

“They’re worms.” David snorted in disbelief, rolling his eyes and collecting a few on his chopsticks.

“Hey, don’t eat that-” Michael tried to protest but shut his mouth when the only thing that was wrapped around the chopsticks and getting stuffed into David’s mouth were a tangle of noodles.

David swallowed his food, before looking back down to Michael with a small satisfactory smirk. “They’re only noodles, Michael.” I stared at the platinum blond in admiration, how had he managed to make both of us actually see something that wasn’t really there? How had he managed to make both the maggots and the worms seem so realistic? 

“That’s enough.” Star spoke clearly, trying to get the boys to listen to what she was saying.

“Ah, chill out girl.” Paul shushed her from beside me, clearly enjoying the show David was putting on for them at Michael’s expense.

Suddenly, David’s cold eyes turned to me. He smirked, and gestured Marko over to him.

Marko leant over, letting David speak quietly into his ear and letting his eyes lock onto mine as the leader spoke. He nodded a bit, breaking his gaze from mine, dropping his food onto a small side table, and turning and walking over to an old, dusty collection of drawers. I watched him intently, feeling in that moment like I could live the rest of my life completely content if I could just watch Marko do absolutely anything. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a large bejeweled bottle with red liquid swishing around on the inside.

He carried this bottle with both hands and made his way back over to David’s side, handing it over to his leader as gently as possible. Everything became silent, and Star made her move to stand over to the side of where Michael was sitting against a broken fountain. Marko maintained his spot beside the platinum blond, but this time his eyes stayed on me - regardless of if mine returned his gaze or not.

David popped the cork of the bottle and raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp of the liquid and letting his eyes roll back into his head in pleasure after swallowing it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the interaction unfold. He opened his eyes, now a faint bloodshot, and locked them immediately with Mike’s.

“Drink some of this, Michael.” I didn’t like the feeling I got in my chest just then, a deep unsettling feeling that shook me to my core and made me want to run up and out of the fallen hotel and hightail it home. Judging by Michael’s expression, he obviously didn’t have even close to the same idea I did. He watched David with interested eyes as he spoke his next few words. “Be one of us.”

[fruityutas]

𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗯𝗼𝘆 ⊱ 𝘀.𝗷𝗻

poolboy!johnny x milf!reader

genre ~ smut, pwp tbh

not proofread

wc ~ 1.2k

synopsis ~ your husband never gives you any attention anymore, so you resort to fucking the poolboy he hired, not giving a shit if any of the snobs in your gated neighborhood hear or see you in your backyard.

warnings ~ sex without a condom, age gap, cheating, cursing, really this is very self indulgent imagine johnny fucking you in your backyard jeez

note ~ someone pm’d me and we shared many horny johnny ideas and this was one of them so here u guys go <3

taglist ~ @itsapapisongo​

“i’ll see you on monday, honey!” your good for nothing husband yells to you as he leaves for the week, going on yet another business trip. you didn’t have any care to answer, since he was fucking his assistant on these trips anyway. you weren’t stupid, he knew that you knew, but he didn’t love you just as much as you didn’t him. this whole marriage fell apart years ago, but neither wanted a divorce, in fear of losing the wealth acquired. your kids were grown and in college or had careers of their own by now, visiting every now and then. you were content with your life, you got anything you wanted thanks to your husband. being a trophy wife wasn’t bad per se, you were just bored.

the doorbell ringing draws you out of your thoughts, it must be the new pool hand your husband hired a few days ago. you open the door to a handsome young man. he was barely in his mid twenties, and looked delicious. you smile to yourself, thinking you could surely get used to him being around the house twice a week.

“good afternoon, you must be the wife. i’m johnny, your husband hired me to clean the pool.” his gaze was focused on your face, though you knew he really wanted to look a bit further down.

“well hello johnny, yes of course. the pool is right through here, let me take you.” you close the door behind him, getting a good look at his ass as he walked in front of you. this man was a piece of eye candy, something to get you through the day today. “here it is, the keys to the shed are under the pot near the door. you can use anything in there if you need it.” he nods and you walk back inside, albeit slowly. the kitchen window faces the pool, and it was large enough to see pretty much all of the yard. you lean against the counter, watching johnny so his job. his muscles flexed under the white tee he wore as his hands untangled the hose. you couldn’t help but stare, the sunlight hitting him just right. your gaze makes its way up, and you realize you’ve been caught staring. a smirk creeps onto johnny’s face. you wink at him before looking away to pretend to be occupied.

around ten minutes later, johnny comes inside, slightly sweaty from the labor he’d ben doing. “may i have some water mrs?” you hum and reach into the fridge for a bottle of water. “you know, i’m sure your husband wouldn’t appreciate his wife giving bedroom eyes to the poolboy.” you let out a small laugh, throwing your head back. 

“he’s too busy sleeping with his assistant to care what i do. besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” you creep closer to johnny slowly, stroking his arm and admiring the definition of his muscles. you sigh before walking out to the poolside, inspecting the work done so far. you feel johnny come up behind you, his breathing unsteady. you turn to look at him, and see that he’s flushed. a smirk makes its way to your face, satisfied at being the reason for his problem. 

“what you’re doing to me is so naughty, mrs. getting me riled up and flustered for your own enjoyment.” you turn fully and grab him by the belt loops, pulling him into you.

“are you gonna do something about it?” even if he towered over you, you still had the upper hand. being a mother of multiple children meant you had plenty of experience sexually. johnny takes your bluntness as the opportunity to go through with the thoughts both of you were having. he leans forward and captures your lips in a heated kiss, lips smacking and barely hitting the right spot. 

“you just think you’re so powerful being older, don’t you? well that may be the case but i assure you i’m the real one in charge here.” his confidence turned you on even more. johnny backs you up into a lounger, the soft fabric brushing against your calves. you position yourself on your knees, taking off the robe you had on, revealing a tiny swimsuit underneath. johnny groans at the sight, palming himself through his shorts. you giggle and pull him closer. 

“now johnny, i think i need help getting my top untied. i just can’t reach it!” you turn around and wiggle your ass at him, teasing. his large hand comes down hard on your ass with an audible smack, causing you to jolt. he wastes no time getting you completely naked. the summer breeze hits your pussy, a gasp being drawn from your lips. johnny snickers from behind you, his fingers coming down and spreading your slick around. he begins to toy with your clit, rubbing circles around it. you moan out, the feeling pleasurable.

“you’re so sexy, you know that? i’m gonna fuck the shit out of this pussy.” you whimper at his filthy words, his baritone voice resonating in you. he slaps your ass a few more times before trusting his fingers in you. they were thick and long, filling you relatively well. your husband never took the time for foreplay, always chasing his own high and disregarding your needs. johnny’s fingers plunge in and out of your gushing hole, the wet noises mixing with your moans. you’re so close to your orgasm when johnny removes his digits. you whine out, looking over your shoulder to see him sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “you taste so good, but i bet you feel even better.” he unbuttons his shorts and pulls them down along with his underwear, his cock springing up and slapping his abdomen. precum was leaking from the tip, providing extra lubrication. he uses the tip to spread your wetness around before he plunges his entire length in, bottoming out in you. the stretch was pleasurably painful, your moan evidence of that. johnny doesn’t give you time to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in roughly. his hands grip your hips harshly, pinching the skin. he starts fucking you up and down on his cock, your breasts bouncing with every push. his hips slapping your ass, the sounds of skin on skin echo in your open backyard. you’re too caught up in the pleasure to give a fuck, though. johnny’s low groans are loud, and certainly any neighbor outside can hear them. he grabs some of your hair into a messy ponytail and pulls you up to him. 

“you love my cock don’t you?” you don’t respond, only nodding. his other hand comes up to smack your face, a growl coming from him. “answer me, bitch.” you manage to moan out a weak “yes”, your orgasm rushing to you. you wrap one of your arms around johnny’s while the other one goes to stimulate your clit. his hips stutter against yours, his climax just as close as yours. “you gonna cum, baby?” you let out a small whine and nod at the younger man. his thrusts become harder, and his fingers move yours from your clit in favor of his. “then cum for me.” you let go, your orgasm washing over you like a wave. johnny doesn’t stop his assault on your body, though, overstimulating you in pursuit of his climax. with a few final strong thrusts, johnny’s cock twitches and releases spurts of cum into your pussy. heavy breathing fills the summer air as you both come down from your highs.

“same time next week?”

[tintinwrites]

how could we be wrong? | Priest!Max Phillips x Reader

A/N: Thank you for doing business with the religious trauma hotline, my name’s Caitlin. I’m just calling to confirm your order of a priest kink.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Fem!Reader. Max is a priest. Unprotected P in V sex, in a church, over a pew, while another priest and a parishioner are in the confessional booth. Oral (F receiving). Religious things. Naughty words. A bit of corruption kink. There are so many sins in this that I can’t list them all bc idk what’s bad and what’s not now.

Word count: 4,105, apparently!!

Summary: You go to church to confess your sins, but end up only adding on some more things you’ll need to confess.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: Love y’all but I cannot CANNOT force my taglist to have a priest kink thrust upon them like this.

                                               --------------------

The oak door was heavy as you pulled on the brass handle, but the opening of it led you into a warm, quiet sanctuary.

You supposed there was a metaphor in there; you were out in the cold with a heavy weight, but just beyond that weight was warmth and salvation and peace.

Every pew was empty, bibles and hymnals tucked neatly in the compartments on the back as they waited for mass or for passersby who needed to pray. There were candles lit at the front of the sanctuary despite the lights on overhead, and you inwardly berated yourself for not knowing why they were lit.

You intended to go to the confessional booth to your right, but you paused halfway to it when you saw that there was another person in the sanctuary. They were facing away from you, dressed in all black, but they didn’t have snowy white hair like the priest who you’d seen the times you visited before.

Glancing at the confessional, you decided instead to approach the man.

Perhaps you just hadn’t seen him before and if he was the only priest in the building, going into an empty confessional would be a little silly.

“Father?” you asked cautiously, and the man immediately whipped around to show a face much younger than you were used to, his gaze quickly flickering over you.

“—yes, my...child?” The name was said hesitantly with a slight grimace and you wondered if you interrupted him.

“I’m sorry. I can come back later.” You turned to go, but a hand wrapped around your arm to pull you back.

“No, stay, I was just cleaning.” He held up the dust buster in his free hand, releasing you so he could put it on the altar table. “What do you need? I’m yours.”

He said that simple statement so smoothly as he turned to face you that it made your heart pick up speed just a bit, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, I...came to confess, but I’m not exactly anonymous anymore…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, slugger!” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders before you could protest, leading you to a pew and sitting down with you, his legs open wide as he relaxed into the wooden seat. “So, come on, what’s the secret, huh? What’d you come to confess?”

“I...I don’t know.” You knew what you came to confess, but you were taken aback by his behavior and how quickly he moved, and mostly just embarrassed to admit such things to a handsome man like him.

“Are you one of those freaks who just came to confess just in case?”

“What? That’s...no.” You were definitely surprised by a man of God talking about the parishioners who came to confess like that. “I just don’t know if I should confess these things outside of the confessional.”

He made a face and waved his hand as if to say it was no big deal. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was something charming about how carefree and flippant the man was, but you still hesitated for a second. “I don’t even know who you are, Father.”

“Max Phillips. I just started training here.”

Well, that explained his lack of the professionalism and seriousness you were used to. You opened your mouth to confess since he was a priest or would soon be one, but you shook your head and looked down shyly. “I don’t know…”

A finger under your chin gently nudged your head up until you were looking into Max’s eyes, your heart picking up speed again. “You’re safe with me. Go ahead.”

There was just something about him that made you feel all warm inside, and you nodded for so long it was almost stupid before you remembered that you were supposed to be confessing.

“I’ve been having a lot of impure thoughts lately. It just seems like everything is driving me crazy and then I…” You faltered as the real thing you wanted to confess to danced on the tip of your tongue.

Max had been looking at the way your dress hugged your tits as he listened, raising his eyes to your face when you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very young to be a priest.” You started to turn away because talking about something like this to a man who looked like that was not stopping your thoughts from heading in the direction they tended to lately. “And you’re different. Shouldn’t we be in the confessional?”

“Hey, listen, how about we...make a deal? You confess, and I can tell you how I ended up here.” He just really wanted to know what had you so ashamed like this, what could possibly make you squirm like you were right then.

You considered it for a second before nodding, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been masturbating. I start thinking, and then I start feeling these sensations, and before I know it, I’m touching myself.”

He nodded along in understanding like the thought of you touching yourself didn’t make his pants a little tighter. “I see.”

“I know it’s wrong.” You dropped your head into your hands, but were only able to wallow for a few seconds. The priest grabbed onto your hands and grasped them in his supportively, making you look up at him.

“You wanna hear why I became a priest?” He smiled at your slight nod. “I was always a little bit of a...troublemaker. But I guess the last time was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for my parents…”

“What did you do?” you asked with concern; the way he sighed made it seem like he did something terrible, like hurt someone or do some kind of dangerous drug.

“See, there was this girl I liked. I invited her over to my house.” He knew exactly what he was doing with this story, noting every little hint of your untapped desire in the way you leaned closer and your blinking slowed. “When my parents walked in to find me with my head under her skirt, slowly thrusting my tongue in and out of her, I guess it was too much.”

His words dripped with sensuality and you would have fallen right off the pew were it not for your grip tightening on his hands. He was so beautiful. You pressed your thighs together and just stared at him, your lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something or maybe even kiss him.

But then he leaned back and shrugged, going right back to his previous nonchalance. “So they sent me to seminary a few years ago and I was just accepted by this church.”

“Oh.” You nodded, trying to pretend that his story hadn’t affected you that much. It seemed like he was just telling a story and your horny brain had just read too much into it.

“You know sexuality isn’t bad, right? Rubbing one out is a biological response to release a little...tension.” He released your hands to break contact with you, noticing the way you fell forward just a little as he leaned against the back of the pew.

“The bible says—”

“The bible’s been translated a billion times and taken out of context a billion more. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with releasing a little tension.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips as he decided to push you a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with you being turned on by the idea of me putting my head under your dress right now.”

You were nodding along as you considered his words, but then your eyes nearly doubled in size at his comment. “I—I don’t—”

“Now lying is a sin.” He reached out to tap you on the nose which made you blink rapidly in confusion. “Look at how tense you are. You’ve been denying yourself, haven’t you?”

“Well...I didn’t think it was right…” You were uncomfortable; not because he was upsetting you, but because you had been denying yourself and you were so turned on by his words that you wanted to do the very thing you came to confess.

“Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?” He decided to be blunt. You seemed to enjoy it when he was.

“What? Me? Here?” Your reaction was almost comical, but his words still sent a jolt directly to your clit.

“Touch yourself. Yes, you. Right here.” He leaned forward to gently grasp your hand again, running his thumb along the back of it. “I’m a man of God. You’re safe with me if you need to release a little tension. I won’t tell a soul.”

“I…” You wet your lips, pressing your thighs even tighter together.

He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly guided your hand to the hem of your dress, pausing to see if you would stop him or protest. When you didn’t, he helped you pull the fabric up your thighs, glancing down when he saw a glimpse of bright fabric. “Blue lace, huh? I like it.”

All you did was stare into his eyes, letting him maneuver your hand underneath the practically sheer fabric. He pulled his hand out and just laid it on top of yours through the lace.

“Tell me your name.” He waited for you to stutter it out before repeating it, wrapping his lips around it sensually in a way no one ever had before. “I could moan that. Fuck, I’d like to hear you moan my name like a prayer.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes fluttered shut and you began stroking over your clit, giving into the sensation that was begging you to touch yourself.

Max just kept his hand on top of yours, letting them move together, his eye flickering between your face and what you were doing between your legs. “Isn’t that better? What are you thinking about?”

“Your tongue.” You were too turned on to care, letting out a little moan when you opened your eyes and saw the way he was staring at you.

“And I didn’t even tell you the whole story!” He laughed, bringing his free hand down to playfully slap your thigh. “I bet you’d like to know what I did when my parents and their friends walked in, huh? Go ahead, ask me.”

“What did...what did you do?” You tried your best to focus on him, now letting him control the movements of your hand through your panties.

He shifted a bit so he could lean in closer to you, his eyes roaming from your face, down your neck, over your breasts, until they landed between your legs. “I fucked my tongue into her until she came all over herself in front of everyone.”

The whine you let out was exactly what he wanted and he chuckled when you tried to move your hand faster than he was allowing.

“Patience is a virtue. Do you want to feel my tongue?” He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t answer him at first, making you grind your fingers against your clit a little harder. “It’s okay to say yes.”

“Yes,” you gasped out and he smirked, pulling his hand away and taking hold of your wrist to make you stop touching yourself.

“Now, I know you learned patience. You’re such a stickler for rules, aren’t you?” He pulled your hand up to kiss your glistening fingers, letting his tongue poke out to kitten lick them every so often. “I want you to stand up for me. Take off your panties, go up and put them on the altar, then come back here. You’re gonna stand in front of me and take off your dress.”

Your chest was rising and falling slowly from your deep, steady breaths. You’d come to confess your sins, but it didn’t feel like a sin as you stood up and stepped out of your underwear.

You didn’t even realize how easily you were doing it until you’d approached the altar and set the bit of lace on it, turning around to make your way back to Max.

He was leaning back in the pew with his legs open wide, the bulge in his pants obvious when you came to practically stand between his knees.

You hesitated when your fingers came to the hem of your dress, realizing that you were going to be naked in front of this practical stranger in the middle of a church. It was both enticing and terrifying.

“Let me see. I’ve been staring at your tits since you walked in anyway.” He said it so casually it was somehow almost sexier than if he’d been flirtatious.

Hesitating for just a moment longer, you pulled your dress off before you could convince yourself not to, leaving yourself entirely bare. Max’s eyes darkened as he slowly looked over every visible inch of you.

You grew nervous when he didn’t say anything, shifting on your feet and biting your lip as you stared at the floor.

When he was still silent, you slowly looked up at him, fearing a look of disgust.

But you found him staring right at you with eyes full of lust and he slowly said, “I’d abandon the church for that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to something like that, just letting out a shaky breath as you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Sit down. Open your legs wide.” He stood up, waiting for you to take his place on the pew before he knelt between your legs. “Has anyone ever done this before?”

“No, Father. I only had sex once, when I was a teenager...and it wasn’t really good.” Your answer seemed to please him, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Call me Max,” he said simply, then leaned forward and started running his tongue along your folds.

Just feeling his tongue between your legs had you squirming and gasping, but he wasn’t paying attention to your clit yet. He’d dip his tongue right near it before skipping over it, pressing teasing little kisses against you.

Having never been eaten out before, you didn’t think to rush him or beg him; you were oversensitized from a lack of proper touch, so this was doing a lot for you.

He decided to be nice mostly for the purpose of rocking your world, and he started to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

That had your hips lifting off the pew, a cry leaving your lips as he started tracing little circles over the sensitive area. “Oh, fuck, Max…”

He took hold of your thighs to pin you back down to the seat, pressing his tongue flat against you and dragging it slowly up over your clit. The movement had your jaw dropping open in pure ecstasy and the ensuing vibrations from his soft chuckle made you release a moan.

You’d never felt anything so amazing in your entire life even when you would give in and touch yourself, and you couldn’t believe how long you’d gone without feeling something this wonderful.

“Would you use your tongue inside me? Like the girl?” Your request earned you another slap to the thigh as Max pulled away, his lips shining.

“I gotta say, you know your manners!” He grinned, keeping his eyes on you as he leaned down and slowly began fucking into you with his tongue.

You were silent at first as the new sensation took over, before you let out a whine and started breathing a little shakily. “Oh, God!”

Max mumbled a reminder of what you could call him into your cunt, thrusting his tongue a little faster and nudging his nose against your clit.

He kept going at it until he felt your walls starting to flutter around his tongue and he pulled back, smirking at the almost hurt look on your face.

“You wanna see what good sex is like?” He cupped your face when you nodded, moving to kiss you passionately.

You kissed him back eagerly and stared at him dreamily as he pulled you to your feet, letting him turn you around. He guided you to bend over with your hands gripping the back of the pew, seeing that you were steady before he pulled back to admire your ass.

He ran a hand over the soft skin, undoing his pants with the other as he kept trailing down until he was stroking through your slit. “It hurt the first time, huh?”

“Yeah, and he...released his seed after a couple thrusts then left…” You admitted this with a bit of shame, pressing your fingers into the wood.

“Came. He came after a couple thrusts.” Your gentle way of putting it made him smirk, but he let out a moan when he pressed his tip to your wet folds. “This one’s not gonna hurt and you can bet your sweet ass that you’re gonna come first.”

“He came,” you repeated, eyes fluttering shut with a moan at the feeling of him starting to push into you; there was some pressure, but he was right about it not hurting like the other time.

“God, you’re tight…” He practically growled, going slow so you could adjust to the way he was stretching you open.

You folded your arms on the back of the pew and laid your head on them, breathing deeply as he pushed himself inside you as far as he could. He moved one hand to your right hip and the other stroked up your back.

“How’s that?” Your answer was a pitiful, little groan so he thrust his hips a little. “Come on. Use your words.”

“Good, but I feel like I want you to move…” It was so nice to feel full and you wanted friction to go with it.

“Then get back up.”

You forced yourself back up onto your hands and turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, watching your eyes darken as he pulled out before quickly thrusting back into you. It was hard enough that you let out a yelp and were rocked forward a bit, having to tighten your grip on the pew so you didn’t face plant on it.

“Oh, God!” You cried, arching back into him.

“Okay, fine, you can call me that and Max.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he found a steady pace against you, loving the way you practically bounced with each thrust.

You were too gone to even acknowledge what he said, and he really didn’t mind since that meant he was turning you on. He slid a hand underneath you so he could rub at your clit, angling his thrusts to stroke over your G spot.

He was trying to keep it together, but you were sexy, and so wet, and so fucking into it that he couldn’t help the noises you were pulling out of him; every whine, every moan, was worth being able to fuck into your tight, wet pussy in the middle of the fucking church.

He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock already since you were so wound up in general and worked up from his mouth, and like hell he was gonna deny you this time.

The thought of you squeezing down on his cock encouraged him to move faster, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoing through the sanctuary.

“Max! I’m—I’m—” Your orgasm was too powerful for you to even warn him about, only able to let out a cry as you clenched tight around him.

“Holy shit.” He hissed at the way your cunt gripped him like a fucking vice, the way he felt you squirt all over yourself and his dick.

He could feel it dripping down your thighs and his, spurring him on further as he easily thrust into you.

The sound of your wet cunt filling the room was even better and he let himself get completely lost in you, grunting and whining at how good you felt.

“Oh, God. Oh, God!” Maybe he was doing that part a bit on purpose, but he had no choice but to let his hips lose their rhythm as he just focused on seeking out his orgasm. “Fuck. Tell me where to come, now.”

You didn’t answer at first as you were still coming down from your orgasm. He quickly started rubbing your sensitive clit again to grab your attention and you gasped, “Inside me, please.”

He wanted to fall to his knees and fucking worship you for that, leaning down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before he stood up to drive into you desperately. It only took a few more thrusts before he was shoving himself into you as deeply as he could, letting out a loud, long groan as he spilled his load into you.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, both panting, both with your eyes shut tightly.

But Max still wanted to fall to his knees in worship.

He regrettably pulled out of you and moved to kneel down, holding onto your ass to keep you still as he leaned in, immediately lapping the mixture of his and your cum from your cunt.

You let out a whimper so pretty that he could’ve gotten hard again if it was possible. He just focused on cleaning you up with his tongue, licking into your cunt until he was satisfied with his work.

He enjoyed a good eyeful of your pussy and ass and decided he wanted to inspect you more in the future, moving to his feet.

“Your sins are absolved.” His words were followed by a slap to your ass before he tucked himself back into his pants.

You moaned and stood up fully, turning to see that he was holding your dress out to you. Part of you wanted to ask if that was it, craving more despite how much he’d just offered you, but you stayed silent and put your dress back on.

You walked up to the altar when he just stared at you, grabbing your panties off and moving to step into them. There was a tap on your shoulder before you could and you turned to face Max, who was now holding a collection plate and grinning mischievously.

“We’re collecting if you want to help the church. I, for one, would love to put those on my face later and jack off.”

You gaped at him for a moment before slowly smiling and laughing softly, dropping the lace into the collection plate. “I should probably go…”

He nodded, but put his free hand on the side of your face and guided you into a deep kiss, licking into your mouth with remnants of cum on his tongue. It made you moan and he was honestly fucking surprised you didn’t have your own cult of people begging to have you.

“Come back. Just ask for me.” He smirked at your dazed nod and kissed you again before slapping your ass, nudging you up the aisle.

You walked to the door with a bit of a gap between your thighs, finding that the door didn’t seem as heavy as before. You glanced at him over your shoulder before walking out and letting the oak shut behind you.

Max just smirked to himself and chuckled, both satisfied and proud. He looked to the side of the room when he heard a creak, smile not faltering in the slightest even as an older, enraged-looking priest stepped out of the confessional booth. “Hey, pops.”

“Father Phillips, this is unacceptable.” He was red in the face from anger or perhaps something else.

“Is that a crucifix in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Max’s jovial expression did twitch a little bit when the priest let out a growl, and he slowly slid back a step and took your underwear out of the collection plate. “She needed me, buddy! What was I supposed to do, let her walk around all wound up?”

“You weren’t supposed to fornicate with a parishioner in the middle of the fuck—” He immediately stopped his crass words when the other side of the confessional opened and out stepped a small, elderly woman.

Max had honestly forgotten she was in there, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the way she was eyeing him.

It was probably the wink he sent her that took him from probably exiled to definitely exiled, based on the way the head priest cried,

“Get out!”

[maybege]

Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

*

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

*

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

[foenixs]

Sex with Monsta X

note: this is a headcanon to what I believe sex with the members of Monsta X would be like, I see most of them as subs and wrote the bullet points according to this theory (again, these are just my two cents on the topic)

if you like my works please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

includes- sub!Monsta X x reader, mentions of different kinks (overstimulation, pet play, pegging, whipping, brat taming, choking, begging, degradation, dacryphilia, teasing, edging, biting), oral

none of the gifs used are mine

Shownu

-very classic, vanilla type (does not need anything more, but he can fuck you any way you crave)

-will be willing to try new things if it makes you happy and has no problems with letting you top or dom him

-likes it when you tell him what to do and then praise him when he’s doing a good job following orders (the perfect service top)

-might seem like he’s not too horny or eager to have sex with you sometimes but that’s just his calm (robot xD) self, you could come up to him at any time and he’d be ready/make some time for you

-will be mostly quiet, but smile when he feels good

-secretly loves when you overstimulate him and will let you know with low groans

-strong suit: thrusts (this man literally re-invented bodyrolls!!)

Wonho

-bunny with a capital B, he’s literally so fluffy and soft, a total sub and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s actually into pet play (will be so happy when you buy him custom bunny ears)

-his body might be huge, but his heart is even bigger, and he’ll prove that in bed

-will do anything and everything for you, the most obedient of them all as he won’t even question your demands (this makes it very hard to punish him, but I mean how could you punish such a pure soul anyway)

-not afraid to moan

-lowkey has separation issues (I wonder why 🙁) so you’re gonna have to reinsure him that he’s yours and you’re his and nothing will change that

-strong suit: devotion (this just sums him up as a person)

Minhyuk

-he screams duality! Is a switch with a sub-leaning

-will be loud (!!), energetic, sometimes even bratty (but always in more of a playful way), but then he’ll suddenly do a 180° and become all cute and obedient

-very rarely gets flustered as he loves skin ship (so so proud of you and your relationship, at least in front of his members)

-not to mention he’s the con-artist of the group and will shamelessly use that to his advantage; if he wants to get punished, he’ll trick you into believing he did something wrong so you teach him a lesson, only for you to find out that that’s what he wanted and he actually hadn’t broken your rules all along (which makes you wanna punish him even more)

-every now and then he’ll get in his switch feels and will want to dom, but he’ll always ask you first and if you don’t like him taking the lead, he’ll drop it again or ask for a compromise (would rather push his own desires down than make you uncomfortable)

-I think he has the least problems with sharing you and he might even suggest having a threesome (wanting to have tried it at least once in his life), he knows you love him and is not one to get jealous easily

-strong suit: energy (would definitely be up for multiple rounds since he doesn’t get tired out easily)

Kihyun

-now this man is a little more complicated…

-I believe that he still has the mindset of men are on top and in control, while women need to be taken care of and he will use that mindset when you two first have sex

-you must be very blunt with him and tell him that that’s not what you are into and suggest that he let you top just once

-he will be very shy when he lets you do your thing for the first time and you’ll have to ease him into submission; will be even more embarrassed when he realizes how much better this new role feels

-will never let anyone know that he is secretly your sub, but over time (as he starts to trust you completely) he will melt in your hands like pudding and bend to your will

-his voice raises an octave while you fuck him and he’ll let out the most inhuman sounds (screeching, screaming, and what not), afterwards he’ll deny ever having made such sounds

-every now and then when he has a really bad day, he will become very bratty, not following any of your demands and he might even curse you out; that’s when the brat tamer inside you will burst through and you’ll whip him so hard he won’t be able to properly sit for days (will apologize for the mean things he said during aftercare and thank you for helping him forget about his day)

-threesomes are an absolute no-go, he hates sharing and would get super scared you’d leave him for someone else/that he’s not good enough for you (complete opposite of Minhyuk)

-strong suit: loyalty (you are his one and only and he doesn’t want or need anyone else)

Hyungwon

-he gives me the weakest sub-vibes out of all the members; doesn’t understand why you want to dom him so badly but if you insist on it, he’d still let you do it

-is very blunt when it comes to his desires and not ashamed to tell you when he wants to have sex

-likes it when you suck him off, but can’t take a lot of teasing/edging (might be unexpectedly turned on by overstimulation if you kept on going after he came and would ask you to do that again the next time)

-has a thing for feeling your hands rest on his chest and neck (not necessarily choking him), especially when you ride him

-loves making out while having sex and having you kiss down his neck and play with his hair, might even suck on your nipples if you let him

-can hold back sounds very well, but he secretly has the prettiest moans

-strong suit: lips (his oral skills are no joke, and he knows it; might play dumb about it just to tease you)

Jooheon

-the. Absolute. Fucking. Cutest. So adorable and so needy

-master at begging (is fluent in aegyo), always gets what he wants

-will cling onto you like a monkey and pout when you don’t have time to please him

-loves it when you tease and edge him, push his legs up to fuck his cute ass, pull on his hair, degrade him, use him, anything! just loves to have sex with you, all the time

-sex will pretty much always be rough and kinky so make sure to give him the best aftercare (CUDDLES!), will always thank you afterwards

-likes to wear your clothes and nothing else

-lives for the duality, like when you push your strap on down his throat while gently stroking his hair and telling him how good of a toy, he is for you

-will whimper so much and so loud; cannot keep quiet (you’ll have to gag him if you don’t want the whole neighbourhood to know that you are fucking your boyfriend, yet again)

-dacryphilia

-strong suit: obedience (will let you do anything to him as long as you do something; the only time he’ll whine and throw a tantrum is when you ignore him for too long)

Changkyun

-might be a major tease on stage but is so shy and quiet in real life

-loves to be roughened up but is not quite as straight forward about it as Jooheon

-lowkey likes when you slap him (whether it be his chest, thighs or maybe even his face)

-loves to get bitten by you and marked up and won’t bother covering them up the next day

-choking him will make him cum in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds and if you don’t put your hands around his neck, he will literally grab them and do it himself

-is a growler and has the deepest moans (will moan out your title if you have one, if not he’ll just repeat your name)

-a god at eating you out, you practically live on his face (loves it when you pull on his hair while he goes down on you)

-he is a very honest and blunt person as well and he might even sit you down one day to talk about each other’s kinks and make plans for when and how you could try them in the future

-contrary to his on-stage persona, he is very affectionate with you and likes to hold you close to him/be held close to you

-he’s still young so I do believe he has a high sex drive, but he won’t pressure you into it

-strong suit: tongue, nose & fingers (uses the three to his advantage during oral)

masterlist