#i had an idea for the spicy prompt too but then this took over

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers Day 31: NYE countdown. Maxiel. About 1.5k words.

"Max, Maxy, Maximum, Maximus Prime!"

Max turns away from his conversation with Alex just in time to catch Daniel around the waist as he stumbles into him, the drink in his cup sloshing over his wrist.

"Hello, Daniel," Max says, unable to stop himself from smiling, readjusting his grip so that he can hold Daniel more comfortably.

From the corner of his eye he catches Alex moving away, probably deciding that their conversation is over now that Daniel has Max's attention. Which is a very fair assumption, given that in all the years they've been friends, Max has always dropped anyone and anything to focus on Daniel.

Some might call it pathetic, to still be in love with his best friend after so long, but Max doesn't really care about what other people think. He just cares about Daniel's warm weight in his arms, and the fact that when all the people at this party will have left their house, Daniel will still be there, probably moving stuff around to pretend he's helping with the clean up.

"Are you having fun, Daniel?" he asks, trying to maneuver them towards the kitchen, both to clean up Daniel's wrist before he complains about the stickiness and to not feel like every single person is staring at them.

Well, every single person other than Charles and Carlos, who seem to be trying to get acquainted with each other's tonsils.

"Yes," Daniel answers, letting himself be dragged away, stumbling unhelpfully on his own feet.

Once they're in the kitchen, occupied only by Logan and Oscar, heads bent over a phone, a half empty bottle of wine next to them, Max hoists Daniel on the counter, right next to the sink, swiping away a few empty paper plates.

"Stay still, please," he tells Daniel, grateful he doesn't have to shout as much over the music anymore. They should probably start lowering that actually, if they don't want the cops called on them again, but it's new year's eve, for sure old Meredith could let it slide this once.

He plucks Daniel's cup from his hand, something of not clear nature inside it, and wets a couple paper towels, gently wiping at his wrist and hand.

"Maxy," Daniel says, dropping his head forward to rest it on Max's shoulder. He's making Max's job harder like this, but Max is not going to complain. He just hums, showing Daniel he's listening.

"I have decided on my resolutions list," Daniel tells him, sounding slightly more sober than he did before.

Max drops the paper towels and grabs an empty cup, filling it with water from the sink and handing it to Daniel, coaxing him to raise his head to drink it.

Daniel had been talking about his resolutions list for more than a week. Max is not sure why he's so set on having new year's resolutions, since in the past eight years he's known him not once Daniel has been the kind of person who follows a plan, but he's been listening anyway every time he brought the topic up.

Max doesn't understand why he's having so much trouble creating the list either. Sure, Daniel does have his moments of perfectionism, but seeing him actually get stressed about this had been puzzling.

"Yeah? Can I know it?" he asks, dropping the now empty cup when Daniel hands it to him before opening his arms, letting Daniel comfortably slump into him again.

Somewhere on his left, Logan and Oscar leave the kitchen, closing the door behind them, cutting off a little more of the noises of the party, making Max feel like he's in his private Daniel bubble for the first time this evening.

He's not ashamed of saying that he's a bit possessive, greedy about having his fair share of Daniel's time, but he's gotten better with the years. The last time Daniel had been in a relationship, Max hadn't even tried to scare them off, but they had gone anyway after a couple of months, leaving a very mopey Daniel behind. Max had keyed their car.

"First thing, I want to learn how to play the banjo," Daniel says, way too loud way too close to Max's ear.

It makes Max smile anyway, knowing this point will be abandoned in a few months at most, just like every other instrument Daniel had tried to learn, getting bored with each one of them.

"Good start," he encourages anyway, because he's nothing but disgustingly soft when it comes to Daniel, even worse when he's tipsy like tonight.

He gets rewarded by Daniel pulling back to beam at him, before going back to Max's shoulder.

Sometimes holding himself back from kissing him takes all of Max's strength.

"Then, I want to improve my handwriting."

Yep, just as Max had thought. Another task that will be abandoned, like all the other times Daniel had tried before.

"I can read your handwriting," Max tells him, because it's true. No matter the kind of drunken chicken scratch he finds on the grocery list, Max has learned to interpret it all. It's not that hard really, when you manage to recognise the subtle differences between the squiggles. Part of the game is actually learning what is supposed to be a word and what is a doodle.

"You can, because you're great," Daniel mumbles against his shirt, as Max tries to pretend he can't feel himself blushing, "but I am so tired of people complaining about it."

"People should just learn how to read," Max tells him, unhappy with someone making Daniel feel like he should change. Which is very stupid, because Daniel is perfect, chicken scratches included.

It makes Daniel laugh, waist moving under Max's hands, his wet bottom lip dragging against the exposed part of Max's shoulder.

"Do you have any more?" he rushes to ask, trying to distract himself from the feeling of it.

In the other room, the music gets lowered, and for a second Max thinks it's the cops again, until he hears someone scream two minutes!

They should probably rejoin their friends, celebrate midnight with them, but Max is quite comfortable where he is, and he doesn't want to see Daniel grab someone to kiss, even if just to laugh about it afterwards.

He had long learned his lesson, after one year he had tried to angle himself in Daniel's line of view, just for him to reach around him and grab Charles instead. Max had gotten way too drunk that night.

"One more," Daniel says, voice even lower now that the music is off and they're so close. He sounds more hesitant suddenly, nervous fingers fidgeting with the hem of Max's shirt.

"Do you want to tell me?" Max asks, just to be sure. Sometimes Daniel needs a little push before he opens up, but it's always a very thin line between getting an answer and being shut out with a joke instead. This time Daniel nods.

"I want to suck your dick."

Max chokes on his spit, trying to push back Daniel to be able to see his face, feeling his eyes go wide.

It wouldn't be the first time they joke about it, but Daniel doesn't sound like he's joking, and if this is a prank Max is going to get very drunk again and probably go cry in the bathroom, but...

But when he manages to push Daniel's head up, he's blushing and he's looking at Max from underneath his lashes, fear and determination mixing on his face.

"You mean it?" Max forces himself to ask, sounding breathless. His heart is beating too fast, so loud he's sure Daniel can hear it too.

Daniel nods, one corner of his mouth turning up in a shadow of his usual smile.

"My last resolution is to stop lying to myself about my feelings for you," he says.

It echoes around his brain, bouncing around and amplifying: feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you feelings for you.

In the other room someone starts the countdown, and Max reaches forward, cupping Daniel's jaw with his hands.

"Are you gonna buy me dinner first?" he asks, just to see Daniel smile properly.

"Can I do it next year?"

Max rolls his eyes, but he still chuckles, weak for Daniel always, even when it's his bad jokes.

Three, two, one...

On the other side of the door sound explodes, their friends cheering and screaming, but Max barely hears it as he presses his lips against Daniel's.

(George screams when he opens the door to come grab the champagne chilling in the fridge and finds them making out against the counter, Max's thigh between Daniel's. The new wave of cheers that follows it is so loud Max starts mentally preparing his apologies for old Meredith and the cops, even as he copies Daniel in flipping them all off.)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Could you please do 14 with art from the comfort prompts? Maybe handjobs while he has his back to the reader if things get spicy 🤭🤭

Anyways, your fics never fail to amaze me! Always look forward to reading them💗💗

I'm getting the sense y'all would like me to write #14 from the comfort prompts with Art Donaldson 🤔

Also thanks, nonnies!!

Warnings: Fluff, handyj's, subby Art Donaldson, praise kink, smattering of dirty talk, established relationship

"In here!" You called out. You listened as Art's footsteps grew closer, and your brows furrowed as you heard him slow just outside.

"It's okay, you can open the door."

Art seemed a little perplexed by how dim the bathroom was, but as he spotted the candles you'd put around your jacuzzi tub and the glass of wine on the side table, it all seemed to fall into place.

"How was your—What are you doing?" You laughed as Art began to strip off.

"What does it look like?"

Your eyes drifted down over his muscled chest, lip drawing between your teeth as he shoved his pants and underwear down around his ankles before kicking them off. You grinned, scooching back against the tub as Art climbed in in front of you. He groaned as he settled in, cradled against you.

"Comfortable?" You teased, brushing your lips against his temple.

"Very."

You curled your arms around his shoulders, closing your eyes as you savored the peace of his body pressed against yours.

"How was practice?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments. Art shifted a little, raising his hands and trailing gently over your bent knees.

"...Art?" You pressed.

"I don't wanna talk about practice."

It wasn't the answer you were hoping for. It wasn't Art's first career slump, likely wouldn't be the last—but you knew better than to remind him of that.

"I wanna talk about you," He added, tipping his head back to get a look at you. "Feel like I've barely seen you the last few days."

"We've been busy."

He craned his neck, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "Tell me about your day."

"It was fine, boring. The usual."

"What's the usual?"

"Art."

"Please?" He urged again, taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers. He raised one to his lips before resting it over his heart. "I've missed your voice."

You smiled as he snuggled closer, the water swirling around the two of you.

"Well...I woke up around seven. You'd already left, obviously."

"Mm."

"I had breakfast, got dressed, sat down at my desk and worked all day."

"You stop for lunch at least?"

"I didn't have time."

"Baby."

"I know, I know," You sighed. "Things just kept coming up and before I knew it, it was 6:30."

"Explains the wine."

"Yes it does." You untangled one of your hands to reach up, gently combing through his hair. "Want some?"

"Not right now."

"...You're too wound up, you know."

Art sighed heavily, head flopping back against your shoulder again. You took in his closed eyes, his slightly pinched expression.

"You are," You insisted, lowering your hand from his hair. You trailed your nails over his shoulder, down past your joined hands on his chest. "I know you need something to get you going on the court, but having your gut all tight like this makes you all..." You slid your hand beneath the water, trailing along his inner thigh. "Stiff. And not in the fun way."

Art smiled, huffing a laugh. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. You need to relax."

"Any suggestions on how I might do that?"

"Well, I'm no tennis coach..." You curled your fingers around his shaft, smiling as he pulled a stunned breath in. "So my ideas may be a little...Rudimentary."

You stroked him gently, shushing him softly as he whined, pushing up into your touch. You grasped him a little more firmly, moving in long, even strokes as you felt him hardening in your touch. Art turned his head, mouthing at your jaw and neck, anything that he could reach.

"That's it," You murmured, watching a blush spread across his neck as you swiped your thumb across the head of his cock. "Fuck, you're so beautiful Art." You twisted your wrist as he whimpered, and bit your lip as his teeth grazed your skin. "You've been working so hard...You just need someone to take care of you a little, hmm?"

The water sloshed around your legs as Art's hips rolled up into your hand. You could feel his hot breath pushing against your neck, his tongue flickering out to catch a droplet of sweat sliding down your skin.

You were so hot, so slick as his skin shifted and almost seemed to stick against yours. His legs knocked against yours as he reached down, curling his fingers around your forearm. You watched his hips judder, his back arching as he spilled across his abs. You smiled, smearing it into his skin as he sagged back against you. His heart pounded beneath your joined hands, his thumb skating along yours.

"We should get out of the tub," He mumbled.

"Because we're going to get pruney and we're sitting in jizz water?"

Art laughed, tipping his head back to nip at your jaw.

"And because I'd like to return the favor."

[zepskies]

Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ 

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.” 

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.  

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care. 

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

(Lovelies from my "Everything" tag list. If you want to be tagged on Priestly stuff specifically, check out the Tag List link in my bio.)

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

[wizardofrozz]

hihihi 🥹

Could I please request a slightly custom prompt? 😂

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

With the addition of exceptionally tender hands? 😂🙈 just the most fulfilling fluffaroni ever?

Withhhhh… hmm… ah man, Hunter has me in a hold since my spicy dream last night. 😜 So it’s gotta be him!

Thank you so much and as alllllways, feel free to ignore!! 💙

The First of Many

Sergeant Hunter x GN!reader, mention of Tech and Omega

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: mention of violence, slight angst but mostly just fluff

A/N: Thank you for the request Free! ❤️ I got a little carried away with this one but I'm not even sorry lmao. I hope you enjoy my silly Hunter fluff 🥺🖤

Wind whipped against your face as you jerked the speeder hard to the left, just barely dodging the shot from behind. Hunter grunted, the sudden movement throwing him forward enough to knock his chest against your back. 

“Careful!” he snapped, twisting around to fire a few shots at the troopers tailing you.

“Oh sorry, I’ll just let us get shot next time,” you yelled over the wind, swerving to avoid another speeder. The farther you got from the city’s main road, the narrower the streets got, forcing you to make sharper turns that threatened to toss you and Hunter off the speeder. Losing the imperial squad was proving harder than you anticipated.

“We can’t outrun them,” Hunter warned, pressing closer to your back. It took every ounce of willpower to keep your mind on escaping instead of the warmth of his chest against you. He wasn’t wearing his armor, an attempt at blending in, and feeling his body shifting against you through two thin layers was maddening. 

“Any ideas?” You leaned to your right, prompting Hunter to do the same, forcing the bike almost on its side and you managed to only graze the small stand on the side of the street. You threw your weight the other way, leveling the speeder out again, and glanced down at the map displayed on the bike's dashboard. Hunter leaned forward, his chin nearly resting on your shoulder, forcing you to suppress a shiver. Was he trying to kill you??

“Take the next right. Stay close to the left side of the street,” he ordered, finally leaning away. It felt like you could breathe a little easier and hoped your harsh exhale didn’t sound as strained as it felt. Making the turn took a little more finesse than you had expected, causing the back of the speeder to bounce off the building on the corner. Luckily, Hunter didn’t complain, already too focused on the supply truck parked on the side of the road. 

You yelped, fighting to keep the speeder upright when Hunter suddenly leaned to the left, grabbing at a crate near the bottom of the stack. You automatically twisted the throttle hard, pushing the speeder to its limit to outrun the toppling stack of crates. The angry shouts from behind you startled a laugh from you, some of the tension draining out of your shoulders but Hunter was still just as tightly wound behind you.

“Not in the clear yet,” he warned, craning to look over your shoulder again. “Make a sharp left up ahead. We need to lose the bike and the Imperials.” You blinked a few times before turning your head, stopping yourself from flinching when you realized how close Hunter’s face was. You didn’t get a chance to ask what the hell he was thinking though. “Now.” 

Your body acted on instinct, banking hard to the left. One of Hunter’s arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place when you nearly slid off the seat, while the other reached for the brake. You tried to keep your arms straight but the forward momentum sent you into the handlebars, Hunter’s added weight at your back making it harder to stop the mental from knocking the wind out of you. 

“Thanks for the warning,” you wheezed, trying to ignore the entirety of Hunter’s body pressing into your back. 

“Complain later,” he huffed, sliding off the speeder. Although, he paused to help you climb off the bike. You glanced around the alleyway, orienting yourself as you staggered for a moment, the ground still seeming to move under your feet. “Help me.” 

“Grab that tarp,” you whispered harshly, pointing at a pile of garbage over his shoulder. The power cell whined as you shut the bike off, shoving a few bags under the back end, hoping to make it blend in a bit better. You looked over at Hunter with a desperate expression but he seemed as calm as ever, offering a tight nod. 

“Come on.” His skin was warm when he grabbed your hand, partly dragging you toward the street again. You nearly slammed into his back when he stopped suddenly, cursing quietly under his breath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was wrong.

“How many?” you whispered, trying to see around his broad shoulders. 

“Too many,” he mumbled, shooing you deeper into the alleyway. Time was running out and you frantically looked for anywhere to hide as the thump of boots grew louder. Hunter started to protest when you basically dragged him down the alley but his mouth quickly snapped shut when your back hit the side of the building, pulling him as close as possible. The large generator just barely concealed the two of you but paired with the dim lighting, it might just work. 

It felt like each of the troopers’ footfalls resonated through your bones, your breathing coming out harsh and fast. You jumped when a hand, hesitantly, rested on your waist, Hunter’s thumb mindlessly brushing over your last rib. 

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your attention. He was so close, each of his inhales pushing his chest into yours. Oddly enough, it gave you something to focus on, syncing your own ragged gasping with his slow, measured breathing. “There ya go.” 

You tried to find his eyes but they were glazed over as he strained to sense his surroundings and you took the opportunity to admire him. The stray strand of hair that always flopped over his bandana swayed in the light breeze. The dim lights made his tattoo look darker, more menacing, although not to you; you followed the line of ink that curved along his cheek, down to the corner of his mouth. The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted, making your cheeks burn as you darted your eyes back to his. 

“C - clear?” Hunter didn’t answer, his eyes softening as they flickered around your face. You didn’t miss the way they linger on your mouth before his lips parted, his tongue poking out briefly. The small space between you and him felt heavy, the tension stretched taut like it might snap at any second. 

Then Hunter inched closer, his eyes never leaving yours. A shiver danced across your skin and without your permission, your head tilted forward. Hunter gently squeezed your waist as your nose bumped against his, startling you back to reality. A reality you were not going to miss out on. 

Hunter’s lips were warm and a little dry but you melted anyway. He sighed through his nose, sending another shiver down your spine. You rested your hand over his heart, a little surprised to feel it hammered against your palm and it relieved some of the nerves bouncing around in your stomach. Hunter broke the kiss, letting out a shaky exhale as he rested his forehead against yours. The gesture brought a small smile to your lips.

“That was…” You were lost for words, still a little stunned that it had even happened. 

“Yeah,” Hunter laughed softly, mindlessly rubbing your side. A small smile spread across your face as you brushed your thumb in a slow arc over his heart, admiring the pleased rumble that vibrated through his chest. 

“I-”

“Havoc 1, do you copy?” The voice was quiet but you and Hunter still jumped, glancing down at his pocket. Hunter leaned back, narrowing his eyes at the end of the alleyway before pulling the com out. 

“Havoc 2, I read you,” Hunter huffed, sounding a bit exasperated and it made you snicker under your breath. 

“Wonderful. If you are quite finished fondling our travel companion, I would like to proceed with the extraction.” Your mouth dropped open as Hunter’s eyes widened; you glanced around the narrow alleyway, spotting the surveillance camera off to your left, and rolled your eyes. Hunter sputtered for a moment, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. He opened his mouth to reply but another, softer voice cut him off.

“What's fondling?” 

“Nothing, Omega,” Hunter rushed out, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just send rendezvous coordinates.”

“Sending coordinates,” Tech replied sounding infuriatingly smug. Hunter ended the call with a huff, shoving the com back in his pocket and you were fighting to keep your laughter under control. 

“Siblings are great, aren’t they?” you giggled, sliding your hand up to the side of Hunter’s neck.

“No, they aren’t.” You laughed a little louder this time and Hunter’s expression softened. 

“We should go,” you sighed, the smile never leaving your face. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter mumbled but he didn’t pull away immediately. His lips found yours again in a quick kiss that made your stomach flutter. When Hunter finally took a step back he didn’t break contact for long, holding his hand out to you. Your cheeks warmed as you threaded your fingers with his, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

The walk back to the Marauder was quick and blessedly uneventful but you couldn’t seem to force the smile off your face.

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino

[avastrasposts]

Pickled Interruptions - a Pickled Peña Production

Hello!

As you've probably seen, we've been gearing up for a writing challenge these past few weeks - Pickled Peña! A brain child of some of my lovely friends here on Tumblr. Anyone who joins in will be added to the Pickled Peña Master List over at @pickled-pena and I cannot wait to see what everyone comes up with based on the prompts that were randomly selected.

Below the cut is my contribution. I ended up using an OFC I created for another fandom but there's no need for prior information about her to read this fic. I just wanted to bring her out to play again because she's such a firecracker and would give Peña a challenge.

There are no warnings for this fic, it's just a bit of spicy fluff, mentions of pickles, sticky floors and Peña's half hard dick because...you know...

“Daniels! No fucking pickles in the vodka orange!” Eve snapped at the new bartender on her shift as she grabbed a pair of tongs and picked the sad, floating cucumber from the orange juice. 

“Who the hell even hired you?” she growled at him as he shrugged and slid the drink over to the disgruntled looking patron on the other side of the bar. 

Eve sighed and went back to serving her side of the bar, keeping an eye on him from the corner of her eye. It was New Year's Eve, the busiest night of the year in any decent club but instead of making drinks and getting big tips, she was now babysitting the dumbass newbie. The imbecile further down the bar had been hired just yesterday to cover for a skinny kid, Lenny, who’d suddenly called in and claimed he had a broken leg. 

And she could see why Daniels had been hired, the cluster of women surrounding his section of the bar made it very evident. The man was undeniably good looking, his broad shoulders and narrow hips emphasized by the uniform worn by all the bartenders at the club, tight fitting black slacks, a white shirt open at the neck, rolled up sleeves and a black vest. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t say she was tempted, but she pulled her eyes away from his butt as he bent down to pick up a tumbler he’d dropped. It was a very good butt, but she had a job to do, and she could see almost every woman, and some of the men, stare at it when he turned around to grab whiskey from the top shelf. 

“Daniels!” she yelled, making him jump and almost drop the five hundred dollar bottle of bourbon he’d just grabbed. “We do not put JD Gold Medal in a fucking Jack and Coke,” she hissed at him as she took the bottle from his hand, “get a fucking grip, regular JD is just fine.” 

“Yes, boss,” he replied, grabbing the right bottle this time, pouring a much too generous measure into the glass as Eve rolled her eyes. 

“Put this back on the shelf when you’re done,” she snapped, “Considering your name I really thought you’d know more about Jack Daniels, Jack Daniels,” she scoffed at him and went back to her section of the bar.  

Javier Peña seethed under his breath as he poured the Coke into the glass, trying to remember his bartending crash course from two days ago. Who’s stupid fucking idea had it been to give him the alias Jack-fucking-Daniels? This last minute undercover thing was dicey as fuck as it was, even if was just to be reconnaissance to figure out when the next drug shipment this club was a front for would come in. He just needed to get a look at the office in the back, but so far the bossy know-it-all they’d stuck him with at the bar had gone back there herself every time something was needed from storage. 

He glanced over at her, she was leaning over the counter, smiling at some clearly drunk blonde guy, the open buttons of her white shirt straining against her cleavage, giving the man a perfect view. And he was taking advantage of it, not even attempting to hide the way he was staring at her breasts. But judging by the generous tip he gave her when she passed him his drink, it had been worth it. And he had to give it to her, she had the looks to make all the men at the bar hang on to her every movement as she swiftly made their drinks. He had noticed that most of the men were on her side of the bar, and the women on his side. He didn’t mind, he just wished he was as fast as her when it came to making drinks. He fucking hated having to ask her for instructions, her barely contained eye rolls becoming more and more pronounced the further the night went. But she was right, he wouldn’t have fucking hired himself either, the only drink he knew was whiskey, neat. 

Javier had tried flirting with Eve, hoping to get some information from her while she showed him where everything was in the bar before opening on his first night the day before. 

“The ice is here, it usually needs to be refilled once a night if it’s busy. The big ice machine is next to the storage room out back,” she thumbed behind her to the door, “but I’ll handle that. You just keep the patrons happy for now.” 

“How about keeping you happy,” he smiled, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip, “I don’t mind carrying the heavy stuff for you, cariño.” 

“Yeah, thanks, I can handle myself,” she snorted, turning away from him and nudging the bar fridge with the toe of her shoe, “This is where we keep any garnishes for the cocktails, we’ll need to cut up some more during the night so keep an eye on how much we have left.” 

“So, you’ve been doing this long? You seem to know your way around a bar,” he asked as he leaned on the counter next to her, making sure he was down on her level as he smiled, reaching up to tuck a strand of her copper red hair behind her ear. She swatted away his hand and he chuckled, “Feisty, jus-” 

“If you say what I think you're about to say about redheads and temper, just shut it,” she snapped at him, her eyes flashing, “I’ve heard every possible variation.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he grinned, holding up his hands in surrender as she turned on her heel and stalked off to the other side of the bar, grabbing the dish cloth and throwing it at him with a flick of her wrist. 

“You’re on dishwasher duty, don’t fuck up.” 

He caught it mid air before it hit his face, sauntering after her as she pulled up the hood of the dishwasher.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be less predictable in the future,” he grinned and changed his tact, giving her a softer smile this time, leaving some space between them, “I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads, never dated one though,” he said, tilting his head as she scowled. He was making sure to keep his eyes on her face and not let them drift down to where the shirt of her uniform opened up. 

“Good for you;” she replied, pulling out the tray of clean glasses and pointing to them, “They need to be dried or they’ll have water stains, get to it.” 

“Yes, boss.”

“And put them with the other clean glasses when you’re done,” she pulled down the hood again and started turning away but Javier put his hand out to stop her.

“Wait, I apologize, I was an ass, I didn’t mean to come on so strong,” he gently put his hand on her upper arm, careful to not grab her, just let it rest there as he gave her his most sincere look, “but if you get an evening off, I’d like to make it up to you and take you out, just for a drink or something.” 

He smiled at her again, keeping it soft and honest looking as he removed his hand from her arm, “I’m serious, you’re a beautiful woman and clearly a much better bartender than me, and I’d like to get to know you. If you’ll let me.” 

He kept his eyes on her as he stopped talking, reading her face for any tell tale signs of her softening but she wasn’t budging. 

“I don’t date bartenders,” she smirked, picking up an empty tray and leaving the bar area. 

“Make it your New Year’s resolution to try something new and date one?” he called after her with a grin as she began collecting dirty glasses

“Not dating bartenders is my New Year’s resolution,” she threw back at him over her shoulder. 

The first night at the bar had been a disaster and the second was shaping up to be even worse. The bar was quickly getting packed with people out to celebrate New Year’s Eve and it was all hands on deck. Eve cursed as she saw Daniels attempt a gin and tonic, adding far too much tonic as the guest protested. To adjust he poured more gin into the tall glass and made the G&T strong enough to knock out a bull. 

“Daniels!” Eve called, jerking her head in the direction of the back door, “We’re gonna need two new kegs of Stella, get ‘em for me. Patty, take over for Daniels, we’ll be faster without him.” 

Javier tried to look pissed off but in reality this was what he’d been hoping for. Handing the G&T to Patty, who gave him a dirty look, he left the bar and hurried towards the backdoor. If he moved quickly he’d get a few minutes to snoop around. 

The backdoor led to a large storage room, the kegs were stacked in a corner. But at the other end of the room was another door that led to a hallway, and at the end of that, the office. Javier knew this since they’d managed to pull the blueprint of the building from city hall, and now he quickly grabbed a keg and brought it back to the bar. 

“Gonna take a few minutes for the next one, I knocked some shit over, I need to clean it up,” he told Eve, shrugging as she rolled her eyes at him, handing a patron a bright cocktail. 

“Just hurry up, Daniels.” 

“Yes, boss.”

Javier turned and hurried back to the backdoor, closing it behind him and shutting out some of the loud music from the night club, the dull thud of the base reverberating through the walls. 

The office was locked but the cheap mechanism easily gave in and Javier slipped inside, scanning the room for any paperwork. He quickly got to work and flicked through a stack on the desk, moving on to opening the drawers when he found nothing. Next was a thick ledger on the bookshelf and bingo! Tucked between the pages were several shipping manifests, certain rows underlined. The next ship was due in three days. With a satisfied grunt Javier slapped his hand on the ledger. 

The door to the office swung open and Javier froze by the desk, staring at Eve who looked at him with annoyance written clearly across her face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snarled, her hand slipping behind her waist in a movement Javier knew far too well, his hands shot up immediately as she pulled a gun from the back of her pants. 

“Nothing, boss, I was just looking for the pay statements, I think Patty’s stealing my tip,” he bullshitted and he knew she hadn’t bought a word. 

“Bollocks, Peña, you’re fucking DEA and you’re messing up my case.” 

Javier felt his mouth fall open as she moved across the office, coming to stand next to him and looking at the shipping manifest. 

“How the fuck do you know?” he finally spat out as she ran her finger over the rows he’d just scanned. 

“Because I’m CIA, and you’re the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever met.” 

“That doesn’t explain it,” Javier replied, “How are you CIA? You’re a bartender!”

“I wasn’t always CIA,” Eve tapped one of the rows, “This one, that’s the one I’m after, and I’m guessing they’re bringing in drugs on it too? Since you’re here?” 

“Yeah, that’s one, the same one we’ve seen three times before. Just didn’t realize it’d be coming in this week.” 

Eve looked over at him and rolled her eyes, “If the DEA put a bit more effort into their cases you’d know that this ship comes in exactly every twenty-one days, always from one of three ports. But they rendezvous on international waters with a ship from Colombia and transfer over their goods. We’ve had our eyes on the girls they bring at the same time, usually about ten poor things dreaming of a better life, but it makes sense for them to bring in drugs the same way.” 

“But how do you know I’m DEA?” Javier asked again and Eve closed the ledger with a snap and put it back on the shelf. 

“Because Lenny ‘breaks his leg’ and you’re magically available two days before New Years, the busiest night of the entire year. Any bartender has been booked months ago. But you’re also the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever seen,” she shook her head, tucking her gun back in the back of her pants. “So I lifted your prints and did a run, Javier Peña, DEA. I like to know who I’m working with.” 

“Well, fuck…” he huffed, “let’s hope no one else is a thorough as you, CIA.” 

Eve gave him a crooked smile, “No one rarely is, Peña.” 

“So these guys traffic women too and that’s why you’re here?” he asked as Eve moved to open the office door and he followed behind her. 

“Yeah, my boss has been on them for months and got a tip off about this place a few weeks ago, I’ve been undercover here since.” The hallway was empty and they moved out, Javier carefully closed the door behind them, making sure it locked again. 

“You had me fooled,” he chuckled, “I thought you were in with them, that’s why I asked you out, to see if I could get you to spill.” 

“Sure that’s why you asked me out,” Eve smirked, “Had nothing to do with the fact that this ridiculous uniform shirt is open halfway to my belly button.”

“That may have been a deciding factor in choosing my mark,” Javier grinned as they started making their way back to the bar. Suddenly the music from the club increased in volume, the door of the storage room was thrown open and over the sound of the music, they heard heavy footsteps. 

“Shit,” Eve hissed, “we’re not supposed to be back here! Quick, in here!” She grabbed Javier’s arm and pulled him in through a door halfway down the hallway and quietly closed the door. The room was a small storage space, jars of cocktail garnishes mixed with cleaning agents stacked on the floor. The space was cramped and Eve found herself pressed up against Javier’s chest as he squeezed in and closed the door quietly behind them. 

“You’re on my foot,” he hissed, shifting, his hands on her hips to move her to the side. 

“Stand still, they’re coming,” she whispered back at him, grabbing on to his arms to keep her balance as her foot knocked against a jar on the floor. The footsteps echoed through the hallway and passed the door, as they held their breath. 

“Wait outside,” came a gruff voice that Eve recognised as Mason’s, the guy who ran the club and was, supposedly, second in command. 

“Yes, boss,” came the surly reply as the door to the office clicked open and shut. Eve tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible as she and Javier listened to the shuffling boots of the henchman outside the office door, efficiently trapping them in the storage room. 

Javier was uncomfortably aware of how her soft breasts were pressed up against his chest, her hands on his arms to keep her steady. The top of her head was just by his cheek and with each inhale he could smell the light flowery scent of her shampoo. It reminded him of springtime back home and without meaning to, he inhaled deeply and held his breath, closing his eyes. He shifted his body weight, his hands on her hips sliding up every so slightly as the warm press of her body made his cock twitch. 

She shifted next to him, her hips brushing against what could only be his half hard length, hearing a low intake of breath from above as he adjusted his stance. Pressed up against him, her nose was right next to the soft looking skin of his neck, a smattering of freckles visible in the dim light. She could feel him inhaling softly above her and she did the same, catching his aftershave and fresh sweat from the long shift. She carefully tilted her head up, watching his lips part as his tongue came out to wet his plush bottom lip, before he slipped it back inside, meeting her eyes as he looked down at her. 

In the hallway the office door opened and closed again. 

“Alright, all under control for tonight, get Jones and head on over there an-” 

The crash of a glass jar interrupted the man’s orders as Eve cursed under her breath, somehow the stacked jars by their feet had toppled over and now the vinegar smell of pickle juice filled the storage room. 

“What the fuck is going on, check that room, Mendez!” 

Javier grabbed Eve’s face between his hands and pressed her against the wall, his lips on hers a split second before the door was yanked open. He groaned loudly into her mouth, rolling his hips into her soft belly and thanked her quick mind as she pulled him closer by his arms, whimpering against him.

“I don’t fucking pay you for fucking in the storage room!” Mason yelled and Javier yanked himself away from Eve as if they’d just been caught red handed. 

“S-sorry, boss,” Eve stuttered, smoothing down her shirt as Mason growled. 

“Clean this fucking mess up and get back to work, I’m docking both your pays for this. And for the pickles!” 

The door rattled as he slammed it shut, leaving the two of them in the dark again. Javier still had his hands on her face and she was holding on to his arms, exhaling slowly as the footsteps faded down the hallway. 

“Quick thinking, Peña,” she said, looking up at him in the dim light with a smile.

“I hope you won’t judge my kissing skills on that,” he grinned, “I had planned to give you a much nicer first kiss if you’d said yes to that date.” 

“You’re telling me that wasn’t your best work?” Eve asked, taking in the way his eyes dropped to her lips before finding her eyes again. Her hands were still on his biceps, the warmth from his body seeping into her palms as his muscles flexed and moved.  

“Not even close, honey,” his smirk was audacious as he leaned in again, bending down towards her lips, waiting for her to make the final move or pull away. He didn’t need to wait long, her grip on his arms tightened as she moved closer. Her lips were soft when she pressed them against his, parting slightly as he gave her a light kiss, capturing her bottom lip between his own, moving slowly. He felt her open her mouth for him, her tongue touching his lip and he pulled her closer, his fingers sliding into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss and she responded with a moan. 

The small space reeked of pickle juice, it was sticky under her shoes, she could hear Peña’s shoes slosh in it as he pushed her up against the wall. But his big hand, cupping her head, his warm lips over her own, all conscious thought melted away. Even those about how he really was a DEA prick who couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. At the back of her mind, her conscience hissed at her; ‘unprofessional’. But a much larger part of her brain was drowning in the way his tongue licked into her mouth, and the way his hands felt holding her against him as the evidence of his own excitement grew between them. 

He groaned into her mouth, rolling his hips against her and she gasped for air, before pulling him closer. 

“Please, cariño, tell me you’ll let me take you on that date,” Javier mumbled against her as she kissed the corner of his mouth, moving her lips along his jaw, “I’m not about to fuck you in a storage cupboard, so I need to take you on that date.” 

Her teeth scraped across his neck and he hissed as she sucked a mark into the thin skin, his fingers digging into her hips as he sought out any friction he could get. 

“I don’t think we need a date, Peña,” she mumbled, letting him tilt her head back and reciprocate the mark she’d left on his neck. He pushed her shirt to the side and found the soft skin over her collarbone hidden just out of sight. Eve curled her fingers through his hair as his mouth made her gasp into the dim light of the small room. 

Javi pulled away and straightened up, his hand sliding down from her hip, grabbing the round shape of her ass, pulling her core closer and letting her feel how hard he was as he looked at her, his dark eyes half closed, breathing heavily. 

“Javi,” he muttered, bending down to her open mouth again, “it’s Javi.” 

“Javi,” she mumbled, “I don’t think we need a date, but…” she trailed off as his teeth closed over her bottom lip and gently sucked it in as she moaned into his mouth. He shifted his weight, lifting his shoe from the sticky floor and pressed his leg between her thighs, feeling the heat of her core through the thin fabric of their uniform pants. 

“Fuck, Javi,” she gasped, the pressure of his thick thigh rubbing just where she needed him the most, but with a groan she pulled away from him, putting her hands on his warm chest and pushed him back, “Fuck, don’t, we’re never getting out of here if you do that.” 

“What’s the rush?” he chuckled, “Are you really gonna finish the bartending shift now that we have the shipping info?” 

“If we don’t, we’ll raise suspicion, better to finish it and leave normally,” Eve replied, trying to catch her breath as his dark eyes continued to trail over her lips, down her neck and the shirt he’d pushed open. 

He inhaled slowly, thinking while he lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down her cleavage, caressing the soft skin, finding the lacy edge of her bra, the same white shade as the shirt. 

“You’re right, we should finish the shift,” he sighed, reluctantly removing himself from her warm body, carefully stepping back across the wet floor, “I’ll clean up in here, you get back to the bar, they’re probably swamped.” 

Eve nodded as Javi opened the door, letting them both out into the empty hallway, his hands still on her waist, reluctant to let go of her, now that he’d had a taste. 

“There’s a mop in the other room, and some rubbish bags,” she said as he followed her back towards the club, feeling him caress her hips, cupping her ass as they walked, giving it a light squeeze that made her throw a smile back at him over her shoulder. 

“Be careful, don’t cut yourself on the glass.” 

“I won’t, I’ll see you out there.” 

Javi cursed the sticky pickle juice, and sloshed water over the floor to get it all up once he’d picked up the pieces of glass. He glanced down at his watch as he tossed the trash bag in the bin and opened the door to the nightclub again, it was getting close to midnight. 

The place was swamped, people packed in on the dance floor, pushed up against the bar, where he could see Eve holding up a shaker, the vigorous movements making her breasts shimmy under the white shirt. The movement wasn’t lost on the three men hanging on the bar, all three of them clearly transfixed by her cleavage as she prepared their drinks. Hot jealousy shot up Javi’s spine, making him take longer strides, stepping up behind her as she placed the shaker on the bar counter. He scowled at the three men, staring them down as they pulled their eyes from Eve and were faced with his furious face right behind her. 

“Patty, quit slacking,” Eve called out, glancing over her shoulder down the bar where the tired looking brunette was leaning against the till, arms crossed, waiting for the bar helper to cut up orange slices. 

“I’m waiting for the oranges,” she snapped back at her as Eve accepted the bills from the three men and deftly took another order for a round of complicated sounding cocktails. 

“So take another order while you wait, the line is a mile long, how did it-” 

“What the fuck, you stand there and accuse me, but where you all this time?” Patty’s voice cut through the music of the club like a shrill fog horn, “You two were gone fucking ages, while we had to fight off this crowd!” She gestured at the throng of people by the bar, some of the patrons watching her angry face with glee, spoiling for a good shouting match behind the bar. 

Eve bit back her retort, Patty was right, she and Javier had been gone much too long and she knew the rest of the bar staff noticed. 

“It was my fault,” Javier said behind her, “I knocked over a couple of jars of pickles, had to clean them up and that pickle juice is a bitch to get off the floor.” 

Patty growled and swiped the orange slices off the cutting board, nearly knocking it to the floor as she stomped over to her section again. 

Eve put the last few drinks on to the bar as champagne corks started popping and the music was turned down. Across the nightclub people started to cheer as the manager, and a few of the  waiters, began handing out flutes to the guests as midnight approached. There’s temporary reprieve at the bar as the guests turned towards the small stage in the corner where the manager stood, next to the big screen tv streaming live from Times Square. 

Javier found Eve’s hand out of sight from the rest of the staff and pulled her with him, around to the back of the bar. Guests were still milling around but they’re all focused on the screen as they started chanting, counting down from ten. 

“A kiss at midnight, cariño?” Javi asked, pulling her into his chest, hands landing on her waist and her cheek, sweeping away a damp curl from her forehead. 

She didn’t reply, instead she smiled at him and cupped her hand around the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. Around them the crowd shouted but the noise fades as he parted his lips and let her tongue in. She tugged gently at his curls, angling her face to better reach him and he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her up on her tiptoes so that he could taste her properly. 

The crowd cheered, loud yells of ‘Happy New Year!” erupted as the ball dropped, but it faded into the background as she let a low moan escape into his mouth and he felt her tongue lick into him. The music kicked off again, people began to dance, clinking glasses, hugging and kissing, but Javier let his hand cup her cheek, stroking his thumb over her soft skin, her body warm pressed up against his. Neither of them paying attention to the man who’s just spotted them from across the club as Patty waved at him, pointing in their direction.  

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” Mason yelled as he grabbed Javier’s shoulder and yanked him away from Eve, “You’re both fucking fired, and you can kiss your pay checks for the night good bye.”

He raised his hands to shove them both in the direction of the staff changing rooms, but pulled up short as he saw the furious look on Javier’s face, Eve’s hand on his arm to hold him back. 

Mason settled on growling; “Get the fuck out of my club, you fucking slackers, go make out on someone else’s dime.” 

“Gladly,” Eve scoffed, her hand sliding down and grabbing Javi’s, tugging him along as he scowled at Mason. 

It didn’t take long before they were both outside the club, back in civilian clothes, their bartending uniforms left behind. 

“So, any plans for the rest of the night, querida?” Javier asked, sticking his hands in his leather jacket, fishing out a packet of smokes. 

“A bodega sandwich and falling asleep on the couch,” Eve replied, shaking her head as Javi offered her a cigarette. 

“I was thinking,” he said, taking a first drag, “you said your New Year's resolution was to not date bartenders?” He tilted his head to the side and gave her a smirk as she chuckled, realizing where he was going with this. 

“Yeah, no bartenders,” she smiled and he grinned back. 

“Well, it seems I’m no longer a bartender…” 

“Thank god, worst bartender ever, Javi.”

“So how about that date, cariño?” 

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Haircut

This will fill the "Stop moving! I'm almost done." space on my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be bolded.

Summary: Y/N is trying to Dean a favor. How can he repay her?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Kissing. Slightly pouty/adorable Dean. Pretty much all fluff.

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 977

A/N: I got a request from the lovely @k-slla:

Hey, you asked if we get ideas with your bingo card, to let you know😊. I saw that one was "Stop moving, I'm almost done". Can you maybe do this either Dean W/ Ben fic where reader cuts his hair and he can't stop fidgeting?

I went with Dean. 😊 Loved the idea, hope you like the result my dear! And if anyone has any other requests for the remaining prompts on the card above, please message me or send me an ask. ❤️

The beautiful dividers both below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

Dean’s neck was scrunched into his shoulders as he heard Y/N’s scissors snipping away at the back of his head. Y/N paused briefly to cuff him lightly on the ear. 

“Good god, you’re such a baby. What do you think I’m doing back here?”

Dean straightened up on the wooden chair that Y/N had dragged into the kitchen to perform the task of trimming Dean’s slightly overgrown, light brown hair. He grunted softly and shrugged. 

“I dunno.” He mumbled like a petulant little boy. “Could be doing anything.”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she knew Dean could see it, even facing away from her. Without commenting she returned to her careful cutting. As the minutes passed, going from five to ten to fifteen, Dean began shifting more and more, boredom setting in.

“Oh for pete’s sake!” Y/N admonished him, setting the scissors on the table behind her and slamming her hands down onto his broad shoulders. “Sit still, and stop moving! I’m almost done.”

A decidedly whiny grumble left Dean’s lips and Y/N had to stop herself from laughing. He was such a child sometimes, a very badly behaved child. She took up her scissors and began again. His usual haircut was simple, and it didn’t take her long to finish. But even once she was done, she pretended she wasn’t, just so she could keep her fingers running through his thick, soft locks. 

Finally she set her scissors down for the last time and then played at fussing with his hair, running her fingers through it more, and “styling” it, even though it fell naturally into his usual style. But she found whatever excuse she could, wanting to keep the chore going. She was enjoying having a reason to stand so close to him, to let his spicy scent drift up to her nose, letting her breathe him in deeply.

Finally she took off the kitchen towel she’d wrapped around his neck to try and catch stray hairs. After removing it, she began to brush away the short hairs that still stuck to Dean’s neck. They clung stubbornly, so Y/N leaned down and blew across his skin to get rid of the pesky bits that wouldn’t let go.

Dean shuddered and Y/N watched gooseflesh appear on his neck and over the part of his chest she could see as she peered down the front of his v-neck t-shirt. She felt her lower belly clench as she watched his muscles flex and release, as his chest began to rise and fall a little faster.

Was his reaction simply natural; just a normal response to the light air she’d blown across his skin? Or was it an indication of something more? She blew on him again to check, and a soft groan escaped Dean’s lips this time, giving her the answer. She walked slowly in front of him and quirked her head to the side.

“What was that, Winchester?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light and teasing in case she was reading way too much into this.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged, a sheepish grin splitting his handsome features. “I dunno.”

Y/N chuckled and put her hands on her hips. “Is that all you can say tonight? Got nothing else for me?”

Leaning forward suddenly, Dean yanked on Y/N’s arm, and pulled her easily into his lap. She squeaked slightly and then laughed breathlessly. Her laugh turned to a gasp as Dean’s big hand squeezed her upper thigh, burning her skin through the denim of her jeans.

“Actually, I got lots for you, sweetheart, if you want me to show you.” His smile was devilish, but she saw the slight fear of rejection behind the teasing in his sparkling emerald eyes.

She pushed her hands through his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp, and he shivered again. “Well, you do owe me for this amazing haircut.”

Dean laughed and his relief was obvious in the warm sound. His eyes softened as he moved to press his mouth gently to the underside of her jaw; Y/N’s pulse picked up. 

He slid his silky lips across her cheek, then over the bridge of her nose and down to the other side of her jaw, before he pressed his mouth firmly against her slightly trembling lips. He moved to sip at her top lip before beginning to nibble on the bottom one, licking at the corners of her mouth until she opened for him, anxious to taste him.

He swept inside her like an invasion, and she moaned into his open mouth. He tasted just how she knew he would, like something smoky and sweet at the same time. She tilted her head so he could reach further into her, and then groaned deep and rough as he took up her invitation.

Dean finally pulled out of the kiss, panting for air, and started to kiss up and down her neck. But Y/N wasn’t done with feeling his lips move on hers, so she pulled him back up to kiss him harder, rougher, their tongues battling more, teeth bumping.

After a few minutes, Dean pulled back again, this time moving to nibble on her earlobe. Feeling his teeth scrape against the velvety skin there made Y/N’s breath catch, but she still wasn’t done kissing him. So, she pulled his head up once again and repeated her admonishment from earlier in the evening. 

“Stop moving! I’m almost done.” She said with a cheeky grin.

Dean’s smile was filled with delight and his eyes danced merrily. “Okay, sweetheart, you just let me know when you’re done with me.”

Y/N ran her hands over his scruffy cheeks and leaned into his hard, wide chest. “Never.” She whispered against his lips. “I’ll never be done with you, Winchester.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

[e-dubbc11]

Leavin’ Early

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ please! Or I’m telling on you! I mean it! Let’s see, there’s a little bit of everything in here…fingering, oral (F! Receiving) unprotected P in V sex (just cuz, the end 😉) Billy being in complete control of you

Word Count: 3.1K-ish

Summary: You and Billy leave a wedding early because, well, you want him. In every which way you want him and you want him now and he wants you too.

A/N: This is for my lovely friend Lisa @music-indie-tv who sent in this ask from a smut prompt list I reblogged a few days ago. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, smut is NOT my wheelhouse but I wanted the practice, so please be gentle! The prompt was:

'take control of me, I trust you' With Billy sounds really hot 🥵

Thank you again for sending this in. I hope you like it! 💜

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Can we go? My feet hurt.”

Batting your eyelashes, you looked up at Billy to watch a sly smile appear across his handsome face. Never breaking eye contact, he took a sip of his bourbon and let it swirl around his tongue, you could tell he was really tasting the smooth tones of maple, oak, and nutmeg.

His top lip retreated back to reveal clenched teeth as he swallowed, watching as you took a sip of the same bourbon from your glass. The medium amber liquid had a gentle spiciness and a sweet oak aroma with a complex taste. Hints of vanilla and honey sprinted across your tongue before a long and smoky finish had your taste buds begging for another sip.

“It’s your friend’s wedding, baby. We can go if you’re ready though, just don’t let that bourbon go to waste. It’s pretty good for not being what we usually drink.” He said, raising his eyebrows, still gazing at you as he took another sip.

With one hand wrapped around his glass, the other pulled you in close by your waist, taking you a little by surprise. His expensive cologne floated past your nose as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“You have any idea how hot you look tonight, my love?” He asked.

Billy’s warm breath grazed the top of your ear while his crotch pressed gently against your core, causing your stomach to drop and the hair on the back of your neck to stand up on end. Your panties already had a wet spot on them from the wink he gave you across the room earlier tonight.

He always looked incredibly handsome. His suit always tailored to perfection, not a hair out of place, and his crisp white dress shirt was hugging his tight body in all the right places.

But there was something about the way he looked tonight that was driving you absolutely insane, like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted with you. If he wanted to fuck you in the bathroom or the elevator, you’d be more than willing to let him.

Red hot heat expanded across your cheeks and an intense shudder raced down your spine. The sharp tingle spread throughout your core and he only had a hand on your waist. Billy wasn’t even touching your skin when a low guttural moan escaped your mouth. Slowly, your tongue skirted across your top lip followed by a gentle hum.

“Hmmmmm…oh really?” You asked, shyly.

Billy brushed your collar bone with his long slender fingers as his gaze raked over you filled with concentrated desire. The primal need for him was becoming stronger as his half hard cock twitched in his pants against your black velvet dress.

He had been staring at you possessively since you started to get ready for the wedding. Leaning against the door frame and with a wide smile across his face, he stared while you sang along to the Rolling Stones in the shower.

The steam from the hot water fogged up the glass but he could still make out your silhouette, dancing seductively like no one was watching covered from head to toe in a rich soapy lather.

Billy let out a little chuckle but you couldn’t hear him over the music, so he gently cleared his throat.

Not bothering to turn around, you continued to dance while asking him “You see somethin’ you like, handsome?”

“Oh I always see somethin’ I like when I’m lookin’ at you, baby.” He said, stripping off his t-shirt and jeans to join you in the shower.

“You’re gonna make us late, Billy!” You said, laughing as his lips collided with yours and pressing you up against the shower wall. “My dress is open in the back, I can’t have tile marks on my back!”

He traced his kisses down your neck, to your breasts and making you whimper as he lightly flicked his tongue against your nipple. You didn’t want him to stop but there was no way you’d be ready for the wedding in time if he kept this up.

Billy watched intently as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and hair, while he adjusted his tie. He was so proficient at it, he could tie it with his eyes closed. It turned you on and made you so needy for him, watching him as he shined his shoes, adjusted his cufflinks, and combed his hair.

The same hair that had been in between your fingers an hour ago in the shower as he captured your mouth over and over again, your leg wrapped around the back of his thigh, making sure that you held him as flush as you possibly could to him because Billy loved your touches, he craved them like a man starved.

Physical touch was Billy’s love language and you made sure to always show him physical affection whether it’s lightly raking your nails against his scalp or aggressively digging your nails into his back while he fucked you.

He just loved being touched…by you and only you.

But right now, it was you who desired to be touched by him.

“Yes, my sweet girl. I’ve been eyeing you since you were singing in the shower.” He said. “Here…” Looking around, Billy guided your free hand down to his crotch. “This is what you do to me.” He was getting harder by the second. In the dim light of the ballroom, no one seemed to notice.

Billy took the final sip of his bourbon and set the glass on the high top table next to you. Again, you watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he swallowed, and desperately wanting to taste the leftover bourbon on his lips.

He pinched your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tilted it up to meet his stare, his eyes intense and dark like a dolls eyes but they were so beautiful.

His slightly wicked smile was all you could see right before he kissed you. Billy’s lips were soft, warm and tasted like vanilla with a little bit of honey.

“Well then take me home, Billy.” You whispered in his ear and taking the final sip of your bourbon. “Take control of me, I trust you.”

He barely let you put the glass down before whisking you out of the reception hall and out to the car he had waiting to take the two of you home.

The brisk autumn air brushed against the bare skin of your shoulders. He pulled you outside quickly after retrieving your coats and frantically looked for the car he hired for the night.

“Don’t you dare put that on.” He said firmly, extending his index finger to point toward you.

Billy practically had you naked in the car on the way home except for your thigh highs and heels. He hovered above you, gingerly brushing the hair away from your eyes, and cupping your cheeks as his lips crashed onto yours. He peppered kisses from your forehead, down your stomach to your knees which trembled at his gentle touch.

His proficient fingers teased your entrance as you arched your back off of the leather seat. One finger pushed inside you, hooking at just the right spot that caused you to sharply inhale and moan into his mouth as he fucked you with just one finger.

You were dripping down his hand as he inserted a second finger just as your walls started to tighten around him, your orgasm slowly building while he finger fucked you in back of the town car.

Each time he pushed his fingers inside, it brought you closer and closer to your release, but he was teasing you on purpose. He was controlling you, just as you had told him to do.

“You’re soaking my hand, baby. You wanna come, don’t you. But I don’t want you to just yet.” He said with a sly smile.

“B-Billy, please!” You choked out with a hitch in your voice.

He was enjoying this as he did every time you wanted him to take control of you. It made him so hard that his cock was straining against his suit pants, begging to be released.

“Ah, ah…not yet sweet girl. We’re not home yet.” He whispered harshly against your mouth with the sweet smell of bourbon on his lips and the fingers of his free hand ghosting over your lips. “Who’s in control here, me or you?”

“Y-you are, Billy.” The words stumbling out of your mouth like you had no control of what you were saying because you were unable see straight.

Moving rhythmically, his fingers felt amazing as you rocked back and forth against them but he stopped you when he felt what you were doing.

“Stop that or I’m taking my fingers away.” A devilish grin stretched across his face.

Through a soft whine, you pleaded with him not to.

“B-but feels so good, baby.”

His dark chocolate eyes stared intensely at you. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked, licking his thumb before drawing circles on your clit. “Or do I have to keep teasing you like this?”

“I’ll be good, Billy.” You whined.

He pushed his fingers inside once more. “That’s my good girl. We’re almost home and don’t put your dress back on when we get there…just your coat.”

You were thankful that your coat was long.

Billy was always very attentive to your needs, the man was not a selfish lover but you made sure to give him what he needed also because he always left you more than satisfied.

So it wasn’t a surprise that as soon as the elevator doors closed, he was on his knees in front of you, your body pushed into the corner of the elevator, and one of your legs draped over his shoulder. He didn’t waste any time parting your folds with his tongue, wanting to devour and taste you so badly, and enjoying every last drop.

A tremor of pleasure shot through your body when he began to suck on your clit. His once perfect hair tumbled into his eyes after you gently pulled on it, and scratching his scalp with your nails. The gradual intensity of your release building again as you pleaded with Billy to let you come.

All he said to you was “Soon…”

He rose to his feet and crushed his lips down against yours, pressing you so hard against the corner of the elevator you thought you might end up on the other side of the wall. The impressive bulge in his pants showed you how badly he wanted you.

With his eyes firmly locked on yours, Billy pulled you into a tight embrace that caused all of the air to escape your lungs while his rock hard cock compressed against you, which soaked the front of his pants.

Your feet still hurt from the shoes you were wearing.

“Billy.” You gasped against his lips. “My feet still hurt. Can I take my shoes off…please?”

“I do love hearing you beg, sweet girl…allow me.” He said sweetly.

Billy kneeled down in front of you, unfastened the straps on your shoes and slid them off your feet just as the elevator reached the top floor. Even though Billy was in complete control of you, he was still sweet, considerate and he would do anything for you.

“I want you to beg some more when we get inside, baby.” He said with a slight smirk.

As soon as the door closed behind you, the dress and shoes in your hand dropped to the floor along with your long wool coat. The only pieces of clothing you had on were your thigh high stockings. Still fully clothed, Billy threw you over his shoulder, carried you to the bedroom and gently put you down on the side of the bed.

The feral look in his eyes said he wasn’t going to make you wait much longer. You had been dying to have him since this afternoon in the shower and he had been teasing you ever since.

“Roll those stockings down and I’ll let you take off my tie.” He whispered in your ear.

“But Billy—“ You started to say when he interrupted you.

All teeth and tongue, Billy kissed you hard. “Roll…the…stockings…down, my love.”

You did as you were told, your hands trembling slightly as you rolled the stockings down your leg and pulled them off.

By this time you were overstimulated. You wanted him badly and you would do anything to get it. No one besides Billy ever made you feel like this, the flutters in your stomach were constant and never went away.

Every time he looked at you, delectable sparks ran along your spine, and your insides crackled with warmth any time he would flash that perfect smile at you.

“Need you, Billy.” You mewled.

He licked his bottom lip. “Help me undress, baby. And I’ll give you what you need.”

You loosened his tie first and unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing the white undershirt. Slowly pushing his dress shirt off of his shoulders, you bit down on your bottom lip trying to stop yourself from ripping his clothes off of his tight body. Billy really was the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on and sometimes it was still hard to believe that he was all yours.

Reaching for his belt, your fingers were wiggling impatiently. He could tell you were overstimulated so he eased back and softened his voice for you.

“Relax, sweet girl. It’s ok. Get in bed, I’ll do the rest.” He said.

Easing back onto the bed, you watched attentively as he removed his pants and boxer briefs. You could see his scars even in the dim light of the bedroom, remembering the night he told you about all of them even the scars that he didn’t get from being overseas.

You loved him even more for having the courage to tell you about them.

“Lie back, beautiful…and don’t move. It will just delay what you want most.” His stern tone was back.

Billy loved to tease you but you did ask for it. He would have fucked you hard and fast in the car on the way home but you told him “take control of me.” And that’s exactly what he was doing. He was controlling your actions, telling you what he wanted you to do, even telling you when you could come. You hated it and loved it at the same time. It just made your orgasms that much more intense.

He hungrily attacked your body like a wild animal attacking its prey. At times, his onyx colored eyes were locked on you, stalking you, figuring out where to tease you next. His lips and tongue painted your body like it was a canvas and you were a priceless work of art.

To him, you were priceless, you were perfect, and you were all he had ever wanted.

You reached out to graze his beard with your thumb and pull his face close to yours but he grabbed your wrist and pinned it firmly above your head.

That made you pout. “I wanna touch you, Billy.”

“No, baby…not yet.” He growled.

He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours, it was something that he always did to show you how much he loved you before his lips collided with yours. A loud guttural moan escaped your lips as he left little love bites down your neck and gently bit down on that spot on your neck that made you see stars.

For being as touched starved as he was, Billy really did have willpower when it came to him telling you “no” until he was ready. He loved having your hands all over him and you were very gentle when it came to touching his scars.

He loved your desperate, hungry kisses but when your lips would come in contact with his scars, those kisses were tender and comforting and he loved those too.

He was safe with you.

Gazing down at you, he released your wrist and you pulled down on his lower lip before brushing your knuckles across his cheek. His warm skin felt so good against your fingertips and you could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest.

The anticipation was almost painful, he was desperate for you too and knew you had been patient long enough. Using his knee, he pushed your legs apart and lined himself up before slowly pushing against your entrance.

Every cell in your body was on pins and needles, ready for him to move but he waited so he could easily stretch you out and completely bury his cock inside of you.

The noises he pulled from you as he began to move were sinful and became louder when he picked up the pace. Billy’s mouth slanted over yours, preventing the gasp that wanted to flee from your lips. The pleasure wound tighter and tighter inside you as his thrusts became faster and you pulled him in deeper.

Even though he had been controlling you, he was also controlling himself. He lived to please you and hated depriving you of anything especially an orgasm. Those sounds of pleasure were music to his ears and a smirk played across his lips every time he felt your walls flutter around him.

He was close, and felt the contractions in you core one last time before spilling into you…hard, still moving in and out to make sure he filled you up before collapsing on top of you. The sweat on his brow trickled down his temple as you brushed his hair away from his eyes, trying your best to catch your breath.

Billy’s lips found yours for a romantic kiss, his fingers winding around strands of your hair to move them away from your face.

“You alright, sweet girl?” He asked.

Your knees were shaking a little. “Y-yeah, Billy. I’m fine…well more than fine actually.” And you started to laugh.

“It drives me crazy to do that to you, y/n but it feels so good.” He said.

“Yes it does…I love you, Billy.” You said, lightly scratching his scalp.

He gazed down at you with his million dollar smile and said “I love you too, baby. Hey, do you think your friend will mind that we Irish-goodbye’d her wedding?”

You pulled him in for another soft kiss.

“Well it’s only fair, she Irish-goodbye’d ours.” You said with a warm smile.

See…sometimes it’s worth it to leave the party early.

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[jake-g-lockley]

KISS! KISS! KISS!

Hello love ❤️ could you do these prompts if you wanna do ... feel no pressure 😅😅

MOON BOIS PLEASE!!

Imsuchawhoreforthemforgivemeforihavesinnedactuallyidontregretanyofthese

7. Almost kissing but someone walks in 0_0

13. “would you acknowledge my feelings for you if i kissed you right now? you can’t seem to take a damn hint, [name]”

18. they’re teasing each other when one character goes “then kiss me” and is surprised that the other character actually does it.

19. ARGUING!!!!! then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other

The Boss (Moon Boys x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?

A/N: HI LOVELY! Thanks for the ask!! The idea I had for this was born out of very very very spicy noodles and I was crying on the inside hahaha. 

Word count: 2.3k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your hands were shaking. You could barely gesture around the exhibits to the group of people around you and you had caught yourself twisting the edge of your blazer one time too many. One lady in the group nodded sympathetically to you, connoting your nervousness to the fact that you were leading around a large crowd in a huge museum. Any other employee would have been scared. Scared that their employer would fire them for not doing their job right.

But your situation was something completely out of the ordinary.

It all started the night before, when you and your boss had been finishing up the day's work, making sure that everything was in order. Your boss, or bosses, were a peculiar bunch. For starters you had three, and all three of them resided in one body, or you could say, mind. There was Steven Grant; the nerdy, enthusiastic, sweet man, Marc Spector; the hard and efficient boss and Jake Lockley; the one who was barely there, preferring to work away from people.

You had taken a liking to all of them, accidentally finding out their situation when you caught Steven yelling at a mirror, only to realize that he had a strong American accent instead of his usual soft British drawl. You had picked up their differences fast, the way their posture was, the expressions on their face, all of the slight changes letting you know who you were addressing. As far as you were concerned, they were fine with your company too, and all of you chatted away happily as the piles of work got smaller and smaller.

Once the pile had about 30 minutes worth of work left, Marc got up and came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You stared at the bottle he was holding, noticing that it was an old, expensive red wine that was gifted by one of the museum sponsors. You watched as Marc set down the glasses, pulling the cork off the bottle and pouring a generous fill for the both of you. This was slightly out of the blue and you never usually drank on the job, but Marc smiled sweetly and handed you your glass. You took a sip, savoring the rich aroma and matured taste of the aged wine as you watched Marc from over the rim of your glass. He was pulling off his jacket, draping it onto the chair before loosening his tie and unbuttoning his cuffs.

The one thing that smashed your brain up was how hot your bosses were. They were attractive, almost like they had their own glow from within them that radiated a confidence that you felt like you could never achieve. You try not to stare as he started to fold his sleeves until they were over his elbows and slightly strained at the biceps. He sat down and fully pulled at his tie until it unfurled from his neck and sat limp in his hands. He quickly balled it up and set it aside, reaching for his glass of wine.

“Do you like it?” he suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” uh oh, you felt like he had caught you staring and your face flushed.

“The wine, sweetheart.” he chuckled and suddenly you forgot to breathe.

The word of endearment sent sparks down your spine and you felt yourself getting dizzy but you nodded and went back to nursing your glass.

“You’ve done some good work here.” It was Steven now and he was looking at you with a smile. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s alright Mr. Grant, happy to help.” you return his smile, happy at his genuineness.

“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that? You can call me Steven!” he laughs and takes another sip and you smile shyly.

After a couple of silent minutes, you heard a tapping against a seat, making you look up. It was Jake now, and he wore a relaxed look on his face, one that you had not seen before.

“Come, sit closer to us, we don't bite.” he says, sounding amused.

You found yourself obeying his simple request, getting up and taking a seat next to him. Jake reached for your glass and set it beside you. While Marc and Steven made you feel somewhat equal to them, Jake made you feel like you were prey and he was at the top of the food chain. He eluded so much swagger that you felt smaller than usual around his presence.

“The boys and I were talking,” he started, keeping his eyes on his glass as he watched the wine swirl, “we wanna do something for you.”

You turned to him, slightly surprised at the predicament before you. You nodded, urging him to go on. He leaned closer to you and you couldn’t help but breathe him in. He smelled expensive, leather and sandalwood radiating off him excessively. You found yourself looking at his eyes, watching his long beautiful eyelashes every time he blinked. You pleaded for your heart to still, fearing that he would hear from how painfully hard it was thumping in your chest.

“We want to give you a promotion, cielo.” he whispered it and your mouth dropped open.

He smiled at your reaction and leaned back on his seat to take in more of it.

“Why?” you managed to make yourself whisper.

“You’ve been so good for us, cielo, you’ll be a good asset to the management. But we won’t take you out of your tour guiding, we see how charismatic you are with the people. We just wanna treat our best employee a little better, you know?” he jabbered away, the slight Spanish accent feeling like a delightful tingle in your brain.

“Thank you.” you said, clinking your glass with his glass that he held out.

You took a sip and suddenly you felt a small gust of wind form the open window picking up a paper that was on the table, sending it tumbling away. You set your glasses aside and quickly get up to grab it, only to find that Jake was doing the same. The both of you grabbed the paper at the same time, the both of you kneeling on the ground.

You made the grave mistake of looking up at his face, suddenly realizing that you didn’t know who you were looking at. You couldn’t tell exactly who it was from the thundering in your ears. You stared into the deep brown orbs, almost like you were leaning into the edge of Tartarus, staring down at Kronos as time slowed around you. You watch as the man’s eyes drop to your lips and you know the both of you are tipping towards dangerous territory, the wine softening your hardened edges.

You felt yourself unconsciously crawl forward, setting your hands on top of the man’s thighs, watching something sharp form in his eyes. You let your eyes drop to his lips, studying its shape and resisting the urge to paint them with the lipstick on your own lips. You wondered if they had drugged you, your brain surged into overdrive as he leaned slightly towards you, tipping his head. His eyes were hooded now and so were yours and everything seemed so blurry.

The sound of the door brought the both of you out of the thick tension that had been brewing. While your head swerved towards the door, Marc was still looking at you, his head completely void at any thought but the feeling of your hands on his thighs. Your grip on your boss’ thigh deepened as your eyes widened at the sight of the security guard who was at the door. You were too frozen to move and you were silently pleading with one of the boys to say something.

Fortunately the security guard beat you to it.

“Oops, sorry sir, I’ll come for my rounds later.” he hurriedly said, shutting the door and scuttling away.

The loud bang of the door shutting made you pull away from your boss at lightspeed, as if he was on fire. You acted quickly, jumping to your feet and gathering your things, shoving them in your bag as fast as you possibly could.

“Wait, hey, sorry.” Marc’s voice? No Steven, might even be Jake

You couldn’t think and you didn’t let yourself look at them, eyes glossy and brain foggy, trying to make your legs move as fast as they possibly could to get you far away from them.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Back at the present moment, you found yourself in a corporate meeting, surrounded by executives, discussing the transport of a new object to the museum for a special temporary exhibition. You bosses were nowhere to be seen and you sat taking notes, trying your best to put all of your attention to the project. The door of the meeting room slammed open, a little louder to you than anyone else sitting in the room and you could physically feel the atmosphere in the room change and you could hear the taps of your boss’ shoes on the tiled floor.

He pulled a chair beside you and took a seat, his clothed calf brushing your bare one. From your periphery, you saw him nod, acknowledging the executives. Your right hand shook slightly and you stopped taking notes, fighting hard to focus on the meeting. Suddenly, a large hand covered yours and pulled your notebook away, making you almost jump. You turned to watch your boss flipping through the meeting minutes that you had taken down.

You noticed very quickly that it was Steven and that he was wearing his glasses that were gradually sliding down his nose. You had to resist the urge to push them up his nose and comb back the stray curl that flopped onto his forehead. Instead you watched as his fingers traced your words on your notebook and his familiar scent that burned your senses.

“All of these plans are looking good. I will decide who will transport the item.” Steven’s voice brought you out of your hyperfocus.

He snapped your book shut and stood up, making you remember something.

“Actually, sir, I’d like to volunteer.” you piped up, standing up to meet his eyeline.

“That would not be necessary, Miss, I have made my decision.” Steven said, almost coldly.

“But I-”

Jake’s intimidating face was enough for you to stop in your tracks and take a deep breath.

“Alright, sir, sorry.” you said and the meeting was dismissed.

You turned to follow the stream of people walking out of the meeting room when a hand grabbed at your wrist. It pulled you into a hard chest and you gasped but played it off with a cough. You turned to stare at your boss as the door shut behind the last person who exited the room.

“Why can’t I take the project?” you whispered, noting how their eyes didn’t meet yours.

“Can't let you take that job, love, it's dangerous.” Steven said, wincing slightly at the word of endearment leaving his lips.

“It's just transporting, I don’t think it's that dangerous, stop tryna shield me. So all you said about me being an asset was just bullshit?” you raised your voice and wrenched your arm from his grasp.

“We’re not shielding you, we just have your best interest in mind. And we were not lying.” Marc said, an edge of desperation clinging to his words.

“Well, you are taking away what I want, Mr. Spector.” you counter, anger creeping up to poison your heart.

“Why can’t you get it through that stubborn beautiful head of yours that we’re tryna protect you.” Jake said tapping the side of your forehead.

“This is not protection. I don’t need protection, I want a little bit of freedom!” you spat.

Steven scrubs his face with his hand.

“Can’t you come to terms with the fact that we care?” Steven soothes you softly, holding onto your hand again.

“This is not care-” you stop as you watch Steven’s face contort in pain as Marc tries to push through.

“Fine then, fuck it, would you acknowledge our feelings for you if I kissed you right now? You can’t seem to take a damn hint through the fog that is your stupid stubbornness.” He breathed, moving closer and holding your forearm.

“What?” He said it so fast that you didn’t have time to process it and you were confused at the turn the conversation had taken.

“Kiss me and I’ll show you how much we really care.” he said carefully and your brain stopped working.

Something clicked and you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him, closing the gap as his lips touched yours. It was like they had set you on fire and all you could think of was them. Marc sighed into the kiss and pulled you closer till your body was flushed with his. Their glasses pressed into your skin and you pulled back slightly, searching their eyes, yanking them off and throwing the pair onto the table beside you before slamming your lips back onto their’s. You didn’t know who you were kissing but from the way they were, you knew that you could be given the chance to learn their patterns with more practice.

Your hands cupped their face, their light stubble scratching against the soft skin of your palms. Your nose found its sanctuary beside theirs as you kissed them breathless, moaning as they parted your lips with a hard lick to yours. Their hands couldn’t help but feel you up at their kisses alternated between soft sweet pecks to full passionate breathtaking ones.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

[vodika-vibes]

Hello!! I thought I'd go ahead and send in a 2nd request since you offered. :)

How about something with Alpha 17 x F!reader. And maybe angst (with a happy ending though?)

Like beginning with Narcissus (unrequited love) but then ending up with Coriander (lust.) You can pick which direction you'd like it to go...whether it's Alpha pining for her and then they end up together or her that pines for him and then they end up together. And if the "end up together" could be a little NSFW? (However NSFW you are feeling, any level is cool with me.)

If you aren't feeling this, ANYTHING with Alpha 17 would be wonderful!

Thanks!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Burning Hot

Summary: You work at the facility where Alpha-17 has been a prisoner for months now, and you're totally smitten with him. But you know that he'll never feel the same.

Pairing: Demon!Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1554

Warning: Spicy - no actual smut, but Alpha is Alpha

Prompts: Narcissus - Unrequited love, Coriander - Lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been having a hard time with Alpha for some reason, but then I had this idea! Yay me! But I couldn't make the NSFW work with me and I don't know why.

You watch him from behind the safety glass. A frown crosses your lips as you monitor his vitals, a frown that deepens as you notice that his core temperature is higher than ever before. High enough that, if he had the use of all of his powers, he’d be able to melt the safety glass and get to the Doctors.

Not that you’d blame him.

Almost a year ago now, scientists traveled to a planet that was long thought uninhabited. Only to learn that they were wrong. The planet is home to a race of people that you can only call demonic.

Demonic because of their tails. And their golden eyes. And the fact that they can create and manipulate fire and heat.

And Alpha-17, the man on the other side of the glass, was the first demon that the scientists came in contact with.

How they managed to capture him is beyond you, you are just an intern after all, but somehow they did, and he’s been a guest at this facility since then. 

Of course, the majority of the care for Alpha has fallen on your shoulders. You tend to his injuries, make sure that he has clean clothes, and feed him three times a day. While you were intimidated at first, he’s so much bigger than you, after all, over time you’ve come to appreciate his presence.

He’s rough and sarcastic and can be horrifically mean when he’s pushed, but he’s never been mean to you. And, much to your surprise, and shame, you’ve found yourself pining over him.

You wonder how his hands would feel against your skin, how his lips would feel against yours, how it would feel to lay against him in bed-

And it is embarrassing. Because Alpha would never look at you like that. For all that you have no choice but to be here, you’re still one of the people holding him here. Keeping him from his family.

Plus, for all you know, he already has a life partner. It’s not like you ever asked…and it isn’t as though he would tell you one way or the other.

“Time,” You say, your voice quiet and dispassionate, “That’s one hour, Doctor.”

The older man that you were interned under glances at you, and then at your readings, “Good thing he can’t actually use those powers to hurt us, huh.” He jokes, before he presses a series of buttons on the console, powering down the training simulation.

You watch as Alpha is escorted back to his cell by a group of droids, and then you flicker your gaze back to the datapad, “It’s only a matter of time before he breaks the suppression collar, Doctor. Perhaps it’s best to quit while we’re ahead?”

He laughs, “He’s a brute, but he’s an easily controlled brute.” The Doctor dismisses your concerns, “Anyway, I have been ordered to take the weekend off, apparently I work too much.”

“You do work too much.” You say dryly.

He sniffs, “I work a reasonable amount.”

“You worked 100 hours last week. I know, because I worked 100 hours last week.”

“...Anyway! I’m going to spend the next week with my wife and children.” He rolls his eyes, “So you’ll be holding down the fort on your own. Well. You and the droids.”

“That’s fine.”

“Good. Good.” He awkwardly pats your shoulder and then heads out of the room, “No need for any tests while I’m gone, just keep him alive.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He leaves the facility while you’re giving the janitorial droids their orders for making sure the training room is clean and in working order. 

Then, and only then, do you strip off the stark white jacket that you wear while working, and head down the hall to the holding cells where Alpha lives. His cell is more of a room, due solely to your actions. You’ve given him blankets to act as makeshift walls, and extra blankets and pillows to make the bed more comfortable.

The Doctor hadn’t been thrilled about it. But he didn’t take them away from Alpha either.

“Knock, knock.” You call as you enter the hallway, “I have the first aid kit, Alpha.”

The blankets are swept away from the door, allowing you to peer into his cell. He’s clad in the bottoms of his training outfit and nothing else, and you forcefully shove down the surge of attraction.

“Can I come in?” You ask with a small smile.

He glances at you, “Yeah, go ahead.”

You wave your key card over the lock, and key in the code that will allow you to come and go as you please, and then pull the door open. You step into the cell, and the door slides shut behind you, but you don’t mind.

You set the first aid kit on the small table you found for him months ago, “Well, you don’t look badly injured.” You note as he turns towards you, “Some of those hits looked bad-”

“So you were watching today?” Alpha asks, as he sinks down on the bed.

“I always watch.” You reply lightly, “The Doctor insists.”

Alpha scoffs, “Of course he does.”

“I am his intern.” You remind him, “Now, let me get a look at you.” You take a step closer to him, already taking in the rapidly healing bruises. “Healing already.” You murmur, “Honestly, it’s like you don’t even need me.” You add jokingly.

Alpha’s tail lightly twines around your wrist and tugs you close enough that you’re able to feel his body heat, “Don’t be silly. I’d have gone mad without you here.”

You know that Alpha has total control over his tail. He’s told you as much before. He likes wrapping his tail around you when you’re treating his injuries.

It’s comforting, in a way. 

It’s also the closest you know you’re ever going to get to him actually touching you. 

“So,” Alpha says as you start applying bacta to his chest, “Where’s the good doctor anyway. Usually he comes down here to gloat about me not escaping yet.”

“Oh…well…” You pull back to grab another bandage, “He’s not here. Mandatory vacation.”

“...you don’t say.” Alpha murmurs. “You’re still here.”

“Intern.” You remind him dryly.

“Right.” Alpha’s tail releases you, and you’re surprised when the cell suddenly gets darker. You glance over your shoulder and note that he’s releasing the curtains that block the light from the hall.

You shoot him a bemused look, “You might be able to see in the dark, Alpha, but I can’t.” You remind him.

“I’m not that badly injured.” He replies. “Besides, I thought we’d use this moment to talk.”

“We are talking.”

You start to adjust to the dim light, and you’re surprised to see his small smirk, “I want to talk to you about your obvious attraction to me.”

And your face burns, “Uh…um…I don’t-”

His hand, large and warm, lightly caresses your cheek, “Don’t lie to me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice, my sweet girl?”

Your face heats even more, “It’s…not right.” You mumble, “I’m holding you here against your will.”

“You’re as much a prisoner here as I am,” Alpha replies, as he slowly pulls you closer.

“That’s not-”

“It is.” One more sharp tug pulls you onto his lap, and his lips find purchase against your throat, “Mine.” He purrs against your skin, “My pretty girl.”

“A-Alpha-”

He pulls back and crashes his lips against yours, sharply nipping your lower lip, before soothing the sore spot with his tongue. “Take my collar off, pretty girl.”

You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. 

But his hands are sliding under your shirt, pushing your shirt up and out of the way, and his lips are back against your throat, nipping and sucking marks onto your tender skin, and before you really think about it, your fingers are sliding around the collar, releasing locks and undoing latches, until the collar comes off in your hands.

There’s a surge of heat around you, and then Alpha grabs the collar from your hands and tosses it to the side. “Good girl,” He purrs, catching your lips in a deep kiss.

His hands are everywhere, tugging your clothes either completely off or just to the side, and you’re not really surprised when he flips you so that you’re under him. 

You blink up at him hazily, and he chuckles, “Is this what you wanted?” Alpha asks, as he presses his body against yours, “What you needed more than anything?”

You whine quietly, “Yes…please…”

“Pretty girl. My perfect girl.” Alpha kisses you again and again, “I’m going to ruin you.” He breathes against your lips.

You laugh softly, and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, “Yes, please.”

He slots himself between your legs, his fingers dipping between your thighs to slide against your slit pulling a moan from you, “And then,” Alpha murmurs, “We’re going to leave this place and return to my home, and I’m going to make you all mine.”

“Am I not already all yours?” You ask breathlessly.

He chuckles against your lips, “I’m going to make you more mine. My pretty girl.” His golden eyes glimmer with want and need.

“Yours,” You agree, slightly breathlessly.

And then Alpha crashes his lips against yours and more talking is useless.

[gerrystamour]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of [chapter one]

Written for: Lex's Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge Prompt: Skinny Dipping

Explicit★Steddissy★In Progress

They were absolutely insane; Eddie was certain of it as he parked the van and cut the engine. Steve was sitting on the passenger seat, tapping his cell phone against his inner thigh, while Chrissy was practically vibrating on the bench between them, her grin huge. This is part of my second fill for @thefreakandthehair Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! CW: Steddissy, Dom/sub dynamics, Good Boy Eddie, Soft Dom Steve, Soft Dom Chrissy, Transmasculine Steve, light CBT, Skinny Dipping, Public Sex, Modern AU, Drug Use (Edibles)

[ READ ON AO3 ]

They were absolutely insane; Eddie was certain of it as he parked the van and cut the engine. Steve was sitting on the passenger seat, tapping his cell phone against his inner thigh, while Chrissy was practically vibrating on the bench between them, her grin huge.

“We should leave any of our, like, identifiable shit in here,” Eddie suggested as Steve opened the passenger door.

Chrissy, in her barely contained excitement, was already scrambling over Steve’s lap to get out. She had said something about racing them when they parked the van, and Eddie guessed that meant now. They had partaken in some high-quality edibles, and Chrissy was always a bit hyper when the special gummies came out.

Steve caught her wrist and she immediately giggled and swooped in to kiss him. Anyone else watching would think it was sweet, basically chaste, but Eddie knew better. Sure the kiss was slow, almost shy, but the way Chrissy arched her back, pressing her chest into Steve’s said otherwise. Add onto the fact that Chrissy wasn’t wearing a bra…

“Hey! C’mon now, this was y’all’s idea! We’re not driving all the way out here just to fuck in the van,” Eddie said, snapping his fingers at both of them.

Steve and Chrissy pulled away from each other reluctantly, and Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from their shiny, wet lips.

“What were you saying, Eds? About leaving stuff here?” Steve asked, tilting his head as Chrissy leaned in to kiss his neck.

“Like phones, wallets, y’know. Just in case we get caught and we drop shit,” Eddie replied, lifting his ass to get his wallet out of his back pocket. He also took off his rings before leaning over to open the glove box.

“You’re a genius, Eds,” Steve sighed, catching Eddie’s chin as he moved to sit back up and guided him into a hungry kiss that immediately overwrote any thoughts of protesting.

It wasn’t until Chrissy slid off of Steve’s lap and out of the van that they pulled away for air.

“Luckily for me, I’m in my pajamas, which means I still get my head start!” Chrissy said brightly, her grin huge before she took off. She was fast, even high and wearing flip-flops, her legs long and powerful—well, long for her height, at least.

Snapping out of their thoughts as they watched Chrissy run off in her tiny shorts and tank top, Steve pulled his own wallet out of his jeans pocket and tossed it along with his own cell phone into the glove box.

“I’m not a genius, Steve, I’m a criminal,” Eddie said quickly, squawking a bit when Steve grabbed his face and pulled him into another kiss.

“Uh-huh,” Steve said as he pulled back and smooched Eddie’s nose before sliding out of the van. “C’mon, she’s gonna get cold if she stands out there too long and makes us go home.”

Sure enough, as they reached their destination—several blocks away from where they parked, of course—Chrissy was already rubbing her arms and pouting a bit at them.

“What took you so long?” she groused, sighing when Eddie wrapped her up in his arms and held her tight while Steve led them around to the back gate. It was a little difficult to walk holding her, but they always seemed to manage somehow—it really did help that Chrissy was so much shorter than him.

“You know how to pick locks, Harrington?” Eddie asked as Steve eyed the lock and reached into his pocket.

“I mean, yeah, but I might not have to,” Steve replied with a broad smirk as he pulled his keychain out and singled out a big key. Eddie had always wondered what that one was for. Apparently, it was for Hawkins Public Pool?

Steve slid the key in and tried it, and the lock turned. Letting out a triumphant little hiss of a cheer, Steve opened the gate and motioned them through.

“How do you have a key to the pool?” Chrissy asked with a little giggle, delighted as they hurried around the building to the pool deck.

“I thought we were doing this because, and I quote, it’s only fun if we’re not allowed to be there?” Eddie added with a raised eyebrow, doing exaggerated air quotes in the way he knew would get a laugh out of both of his partners.

“I used to be a lifeguard here, and I just… never gave my key back,” Steve said with a shrug, slipping his keys back into his pocket before pulling his shirt over his head. Once he was shirtless, hair a wild mess around his head, he turned one of his classic, heart-breaker smirks on Eddie and said, “And just because I have a key doesn’t mean we’re doing anything less illegal, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at Steve before looking at Chrissy in bewilderment. “Hopper was right, I am a terrible influence,” he said in a daze and Chrissy just laughed, covering her mouth and snorting as she tried to keep her laughter quiet.

“C’mon, let’s get swimming,” Steve said, rolling his eyes as he kicked off his sandals and undid his fly.

In a flurry of motion, Eddie and Chrissy started to strip, though Eddie stopped while he was still in his boxers. When he looked at Chrissy, she was still wearing her tank top and panties. Glancing at Steve, Eddie had to do a double-take because—yeah, yep, Steve Harrington was buck-ass naked in the moonlight at Hawkins Public Pool.

When Steve looked at them as he stepped up to the edge of the pool, he scoffed. “I thought we were skinny dipping, cowards,” he teased lightheartedly before jumping in.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other a bit nervously, but then Chrissy just shrugged and pulled her tank top off. Struck by the sight of her naked tits, Eddie stood there in stunned silence as she finished slipping out of her underwear and jumped in after Steve. Shaking himself out of his stupor and willing his body to calm down, Eddie shoved his boxers down and jumped in.

The temperature of the water was definitely enough to take care of whatever downstairs situation was starting, that was for sure.

“Oh, fuck, it’s cold,” Eddie gasped as his head broke the surface, pouting when Chrissy and Steve just laughed at him. Crossing his arms and shivering, Eddie whined, “I’m freezing my dick off and you’re laughing at me?”

“Get moving and you’ll warm up, Munson,” Steve said flatly, completely unsympathetic as he started doing fucking laps like the goddamn jock that he was. If Eddie wasn’t so into him doing jock things, he would be so annoyed at that moment. However, as it was, the cold water wasn’t going to keep Eddie Junior in check for very long.

“C’mon, Eddie, let’s swim a bit,” Chrissy cooed in his ear, jolting Eddie out of his increasingly horny thoughts, but when he turned his gaze toward her, he just started thinking about her instead.

She was so beautiful, grinning up at him with her hair wet and slicked back, the swells of her tits just barely breaking the surface of the water. They only had the light from the moon and one of the lights in the parking lot to see by, but it was more than enough. Especially with his memories of her body in broad daylight, laid out on the sheets of her bed, flushed and gorgeous. What he couldn’t see right now, he still remembered. When he didn’t respond, Chrissy stood up properly and swam close to Eddie, her softness pressed flush against his front as she slid her hands up to rest on his chest.

Eddie held his breath, one hand cupping her cheek as Chrissy tilted her head back, glancing at his lips before a mischievous smirk passed over her features.

Before he could even react to the change in her expression, Eddie found himself underwater, the lingering feeling of Chrissy’s shove still lighting up his chest. He could hear her peals of laughter through the water, and even through his indignation he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Without surfacing, Eddie squinted through the water and found Chrissy’s retreating silhouette through the darkness and immediately swam after her. Even though he liked to make fun of sports and most athletic activities, Eddie prided himself in being an excellent swimmer. Steve regularly lamented the fact that Eddie never actually joined the swim team back when they were still in high school.

His arms closed around Chrissy’s waist and he dragged her under, rolling as she thrashed. When they finally surfaced, giggling and breathless, Chrissy was coughing around the mouthful of water she inhaled at the end. Eddie pulled her in tight to his front and kissed her forehead as she caught her breath, and she clung to him, giggles overtaking her as she tipped her head back.

Without hesitation, Eddie grinned and stooped to kiss her, immediately opening for her questing tongue with a low groan. With a little sound against his mouth, Chrissy wrapped her legs around his waist and Eddie’s hands immediately slid down her back to grab two ample handfuls of her ass. Holding her tight as he stood up so they didn’t sink, Eddie deepened the kiss, moaning thickly as he groped her asscheeks roughly, chasing her lips when she pulled away.

Opening his eyes slowly, unsure of when they even closed, Eddie furrowed his brow as Chrissy clasped her hands behind his head and took a dramatic breath, puffing her cheeks out with it. Then she tightened her legs around Eddie’s middle and launched herself backward, her grip on Eddie’s head dragging him forward and into the water once again.

Their second tussle was much more short-lived as that much naked skin against each other had them both distracted, and soon Eddie found himself pinned against the wall of the pool, Chrissy’s demanding mouth on his as he kneaded his handfuls of her ass once again. That’s just where his hands belonged, on her ass, or her hips, feeling the perfect softness there and getting hungrier. He was greedy and possessive in his touches, pulling her against his hardening cock with a desperate whimper.

When she pulled away to catch her breath, Eddie said sternly, “Don’t try to drown me again, Cunningham, I swear to god—”

“I would never try to drown you while you’re grinding a boner against me, baby,” Chrissy cooed comfortingly, nudging Eddie’s chin with her nose until he tipped his head back and allowed her access to his throat. With a low whine, Eddie groped her ass and rocked his hips against her, his entire body shivering with pleasure as she met his movements, her teeth worrying a bruise into his skin.

Then Eddie shuddered as two hands slid between their bodies to squeeze and massage Chrissy’s tits. Her mouth pulled away from Eddie’s throat as she threw her head back, biting her lips to muffle a cry.

When Eddie opened his eyes—again, when did they close?—he watched hungrily as Chrissy rested her head back on Steve’s shoulder, panting softly against his ear as he pinched and plucked at her nipples. Steve met Eddie’s gaze with a little smirk, turning his face to kiss her sloppily, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. For a moment, it wasn’t even a proper kiss, just their tongues meeting each other in quick touches before they both moaned and sealed their mouths together. It was one of Eddie’s favourite sights in the world, his two favourite people kissing each other and making each other feel good. It was intoxicating.

He was so distracted by the picture they made together that Eddie didn’t even notice that one of Steve’s hands had disappeared from Chrissy’s chest. Steve’s firm grip suddenly settling on his hip made him jump slightly before he leaned into it. It was the only warning he got before Steve’s hand went on to sweep across the front of his thigh until it was cupping Eddie’s balls, pulling a sharp whimper from him. Steve’s eyes met his with a smirk against Chrissy’s mouth as he massaged his handful, making Eddie buck and whine.

The movement had his cock slipping from between his and Chrissy’s bodies and right to where her strong legs met, the length of it rubbing teasingly against the seam of her cunt. Shuddering between Steve’s fondling and the teasing friction, Eddie let out a long, high keen.

Pulling away from the kiss, Steve rested his chin on Chrissy’s shoulder and grinned at Eddie, toothy and predatory as his grip on his balls tightened and pulled until he was sobbing at the pleasure-pain.

“Want him inside me,” Chrissy sighed, her own hands resting on Eddie’s chest before plucking at his nipples, playing roughly with the barbells there with her manicured nails. Eddie sobbed and screwed his eyes shut, head tipping back as she pinched his sensitive nipples.

“You think he deserves it, baby?” Steve asked in a low voice and Eddie felt his head go fuzzy with hot static, the blush on his cheeks so warm he felt like he was about to start sweating.

“Not about him. I want a cock in me, and you didn’t bring any of yours,” Chrissy replied, and God being talked about like an object, like he was just a sex toy for them to use, really did something for Eddie.

Steve hummed at that, thoughtful and mocking. “Could give you my fingers?” he offered and Eddie bit his lip against the whimper that was about to tumble from his throat.

He wanted to beg and convince Chrissy that his cock was better than Steve’s fingers, but he knew firsthand that Steve’s fingers were wicked in their accuracy and talents. He was so fucking good with his fingers; it took a month for Eddie to upgrade to one of Steve’s straps when they first started dating. Apparently, Chrissy went three months with only Steve’s fingers at the start of their relationship as well.

Opening his eyes again, he froze at the change in the lighting, at the flashing red and blue of it. Gravel crunched under a tire, and Eddie could hear the squeak of a brake being applied.

“Cops!” Eddie hissed and that immediately snapped them out of it. The three of them swam across the pool and dragged themselves out, scooping up their clothes. Chrissy managed to get her tank top on before they heard a car door shutting.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, still struggling with figuring out his clothes in the dark.

“Just put your damn shoes back on, Harrington. We have to run now,” Eddie hissed, grinning maniacally at Steve’s alarmed expression. He wanted risk, right? With that, Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and ran around the building to the back gate.

As the three of them fled the pool, Steve and Eddie were still completely naked except for their sandals and Crocs respectively, and they heard a shout from inside the fence. Squealing and giggling wildly, they booked it as fast as they could to the van. Eddie didn’t even bother getting into the driver’s seat, just tossed Steve his keys and scrambled up into the van after Chrissy. Steve was a much better getaway driver, thanks to his ability to balance speed with recklessness perfectly.

Steve started the van and immediately pulled away from the curb, speeding down the quiet, dark road with a broad grin on his face, checking the mirrors for lights.

“This was so stupid,” he said with a huff, laughing brightly as he took a corner just a touch too fast and made Chrissy and Eddie slide across the bench and against the passenger door.

Eddie let out an indignant sound as he threw his hands up. “It was your idea!”

Chrissy giggled and Steve just grinned sidelong over at Eddie, making his heart do a series of somersaults. “Yeah, it was,” he said with a smirk before returning his attention to the road.

[ TBC ]

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Taglist! @mylilplanet @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle @stobinesque @spectrum-spectre @judasofsuburbia @connected-dots-st-reblogger @jaxildan @hellion-child @spicysix @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @steddieas-shegoes @yournowheregirl

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Whump Whumping Whump

Updates on Whumptober, meows!

Alllriiight, my dear readers, I'm very much on a roll when it comes to Whumptober. For anyone stumbling across my page for the first time, Whumptober is an event hosted during October where you write "whump", or rather the psychological, physical, and other forms of torment against a "whumpee" (person receiving the angst).

I had the thought of doing a combination of prompts into a single one-shot, just to get a feel of something a little different! I wanted to talk a little about the chosen fandom and some information about the au itself because why not? For fandom, I decided to go with the current fixation, in other words a K-Drama known as Vincenzo.

This one's going to be particularly whumpy, especially due to the nature of the content with my idea but before that - this idea follows a canon divergent setting! It does fit under au, though honestly I named the fic after a song! Due to my rewatch of the series, I realized how dear these characters are to me so I created my own canon because, well, one of my favorites did die and I am upset lol.

Read below for information about the au and the fic itself!

Changes to the Canon

Jang Hanseo deserved so much better. After suffering from Hanseok's abuse, I felt his demise was too brutal for my tastes and decided he would get the chance to live here!

Vincenzo still did leave Korea after the end of the series, but then came back - deciding he couldn't abandon his new family. Geumga Plaza is an unofficial family and are highly protective of each other

Vincenzo and Hong Chayoung got together post-canon; though it took a while, considering just how stubborn both of them are. They're only dating, and neither has brought up marriage

The au itself does take place in Italy though! I had thought of Vincenzo taking Chayoung and Hanseo to visit where he had grown up, and so I decided to have them take a vacation

Hanseo took over the business, now running it legally. Though he also decided to volunteer at an animal shelter during the weekend

Vincenzo is a legal consultant, apart from still being part of the Jipuragi Law Firm

Hanseo suffers from PTSD and an unspecified anxiety disorder. While he has recovered immensely from the abusive dynamic with Hanseok, he does have vicious nightmares

He considers Vincenzo to be his true brother and rarely talks about Hanseok

Chayoung is highly protective of Hanseo, making sure no one comes after him. Though, this has hardly been an issue

Hanseo also has Autism Spectrum Disorder. I'm not going to lie; a lot of his depictions of having ASD in fanfiction doesn't always make me comfortable. I'm using my own experience with autism for how his represents

Vincenzo also has PTSD, but he doesn't talk about it. Ever

Fanfiction Details

As mentioned before, Vincenzo - alongside Chayoung and Hanseo - take a vacation to Italy, but of course things end up going a little south

For reasons I won't be disclosing yet, a hit is placed on Vincenzo. He discovers what's happening, and finds himself slowly distancing from Hanseo and Chayoung in order to keep them safe

Chayoung immediately notices something's up, attempting to confront Vincenzo but he gets defensive and it leads to a situation. That's all I can really say

Hanseo is not confrontational, but he does worry over his hyung and decides to help Chayoung figure out what's bothering Vincenzo

A fight does break out, but I will not be saying anything beyond that yet! That's spoilers, I'm afraid

More will come in a little while if anyone wants a WIP and would like to see me keep yapping about this idea. I haven't written for Vincenzo in ages, and last time, it had gotten a little... spicy to say the least but I adore Vincenzo's relationship with Chayoung and, well, Hanseo should've had a chance to heal from Hanseok's torment. In the meantime, I bid you adieu!

[eventinelysplayground]

Day 4 of the Ikemen Advent event hosted by @candied-boys and @queengiuliettafirstlady. Today's prompt is tinsel and I also paired it with the prompt Christmas decorating contest from @writingwhimsey naughty or nice event. After Victor declares a contest you learn something about Liam and decide to have some fun with it. Fluff with a hint at something spicy. WC approx 780.

Mesmerized

“I really think we're going to win this.”

“Me too! Let's see what's in this box.”

You smiled up at Liam who was standing beside you, he had just finished putting on the last of the candle holders. Yesterday evening Victor had announced to somes excitements and others unsurprisingly non excitement that everyone would be paired off this year to compete in decorating a tree for Christmas. The teams were decided by draw and you were relieved when you had drawn Liam's name. He had been just as excited about it as you were and the both of you were sure you'd win. Your only real competition was Roger and Harrison’s tree.

“These ornaments are so pretty.”

“Victor has picked up most of the castle's ornaments over the years but Elbert has contributed a good amount too.”

“Has anyone else ever bought any?”

“Mmmm Ellis did one year, but then Jude made fun of him and he never bought any again.”

“Ugh he's such a Scrooge.”

“Hahaha ya, too bad being visited by spirits wouldn't make him be nicer. He'd probably threaten them actually.”

You giggled, you could definitely see Jude doing just that.

“Well let's get started hanging these.”

“Just tell me where you want them!”

You and Liam got down to placing the ornaments on the tree, a task that maybe you were both taking a bit too seriously but you were both still having fun. As you came to the bottom of the trunk you found a large velvet pouch.

“I wonder what's in here?”

You untied the strings and reached in with excitement and pulled out some tinsel. Liam had come over to see what you found and he reached over taking a bit from your hand.

“I always liked tinsel.”

“Really?”

“Yup the way the candles reflect off it once their lit is so pretty. It looks pretty nice in the electric lights too but, candlelit is still the best. Here I'll show you!”

Liam took the bit of tinsel he had taken out of your hand and draped the strands over several branches then he turned out the lamps and lit two of the candles.

“See!”

“It is pretty, but my favorite part of the tree was always the gingerbread ornaments because we got to eat them."

You were smiling as you turned to look at Liam but he wasn't looking at you instead he was transfixed on the tinsel.

“Liam?”

You waited a moment but he didn't reply.

“You look like a cat that's been mesmerized by a sunbeam.”

As soon as the thought left your lips you had a not so nice idea. You reached in and took more tinsel out of the pouch then grabbed a candle and holder off the tree. You set it up on a table near the wall and began to dangle the tinsel around it.

“Oh Liam…”

Your voice was a bit higher pitched than normal, like you would use to entice a cat. It took a few tries but eventually it worked and you had Liam mesmerized but your dangling tinsel. You were so caught up in what you were doing you didn't know someone else had joined you until you heard an amused whisper in your ear.

“Now just what's going on here?”

You jumped slightly and almost dropped the tinsel but you quickly recovered and turned your head slightly to the side.

“William I'm just…”

“Yes?”

William had a knowing smile on his face and you let out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, once I saw how mesmerized he was by it, I couldn't help myself.”

You were still dangling the tinsel as you guiltily hung your head. William took the tinsel from your hand and picked up the candle with the other. You thought he was going to blow it out but instead he dangled it over to the tree and tossed it on to it making Liam follow it. He placed the candle back on the tree before walking back to you.

“It's not nice to tease the poor cat.”

“I know.”

Williams' lips met yours in a soft kiss and he trailed a hand down your side.

“Hmmm you say that but…I think my robin needs to have it reinforced just how naughty teasing someone can be.”

William's long fingers slid over your cheek and down your neck sending a shiver of desire through you.

“Mmm, I think you're right William.”

William smiled at you and you could see the desire building in his eyes. He wasted no time in taking you by the hand and leading you towards the dining room door.

“Come my robin, while the cat is still distracted.”

Tag List: @floydsteeth, @nani-nani-nani, @nightghoul381

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi! Can I request a Melissa Schemmenti x reader with the prompt "We can't do this anymore. It's too dangerous." "When has that ever stopped us?" Maybe one of the other teachers hears Mel and reader outside of the classroom and thinks they’re about to do something spicy but really it’s something stupid and silly. Thank you!!

Sorry this one took a while - often when I read a prompt I get an immediate idea of where I'd like to take it, but this one took some time. Hope you like it!

“We can’t do this anymore.  It’s too dangerous!”

Melissa only smirks.  “When has that ever stopped us?”

“Do NOT tell me you’ve been doing unspeakable things in this classroom.”

You both jump at Barb’s sudden appearance in Melissa’s room, arms crossed and looking none too pleased.  You find yourself taking a half step sideways, using the red head as a human shield.

“Melissa Schemmenti, I swear!  This is a place of learning for innocent young minds…not…not-“

Chuckling, Melissa waves a hand.  “Barb, let me stop you there before you hurt yourself trying to find a PC way of saying getting down and dirty.”

“I was just saying we really shouldn’t go back to the arcade,” you pipe up from behind Melissa, your head peeking over her shoulder.  It had become a sort of end of week tradition for you both.  To begin with it had been a throwaway suggestion one Friday night.  A way to blow of some steam and let your hair down.  It had been fun too.  Both of you being competitive it had been one long competition to see who could get the most prize tickets.  Not that you ever did anything with them.  At the end of the evening you’d both pick a kid to donate them too.  Winner or loser, you both won when you got home, finding a whole different way to work off the adrenaline the competition brought out in you both.

“The arcade?” repeats the older teacher, her face the picture of confusion.  “What’s dangerous about the arcade?”

Melissa sighs.  “I might have got a little carried away last time we were there.”

Barb raises an eyebrow. 

“It was one of the games where you hit the targets with the balls,” huffed Melissa.  “Someone had beaten my high score, so I was trying to get a new one.”

The kindergarten teacher’s eyebrow only creeps higher.

“And a guy might have tapped me on the shoulder, saying it was time I moved on and gave someone else a turn.”

Barb could imagine exactly how that had gone down.  She had been witness to the staff at the batting cages try and cut Melissa off more than once.  It was never pretty.

“It was instinct!  And it was one stupid little plastic ball!” she said in defence. 

“You hit him square on the nose,” you add, Melissa turning to face you, her smirk back in place.  “Course I did.  Mamma’s got good aim.”  She turned back to Barb.  “And I got my high score.”

The older woman only shakes her head.  “Of course you did.  Well, now that we’ve clarified that the sanctity of your classroom remains intact, I shall leave you two to your weekend.  I’ve got a husband taking me to dinner.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” grins Melissa.

“Leaves me plenty of room to manoeuvre,” smirks the kindergarten teacher, drawing a chuckle from you and earning you a swat on the arm from the redhead as she leaves.

You slide your arms around Melisa’s waist from behind, nuzzling her hair aside as you press a kiss to the back of her neck.  “You really think she believes the sanctity of your classroom remains intact?”

She turns in your arms, kissing her way up your jaw until she can whisper in your ear.  “Oh, I think you’ll find the sanctity of my classroom is indeed intact.  It’s only your classroom we’ve defiled.”

Smirking, you turn your head until you’re able to capture her lips with your own.  “We could always change that?”

“Or…we could go to the arcade and I could trash you at a few games then you could take out all that frustration at not winning on me?”

Raising an eyebrow, you can’t help but like her plan.  It was a recent shift in your dynamic, but not one you were opposed to.  Not when it meant you got to see the red head laid out beneath you, utterly spent and looking nothing short of spectacular.  “We’d better hope they haven’t banned you, then, hadn’t we?”

[cuffmeinblack]

Retribution

Ominis Gaunt x f!OC

ao3 link

Tags: explicit | angst | smut | dark!Ominis | non-canon death | violence | blood | torture | implied non-con | revenge

9k words

Summary: Ominis has kept his romantic involvement with Maerys a secret from his family for her own safety, but a pending betrothal causes complications. Maerys confronts his family with the hope of acceptance but gets more than she bargained for.

A/n: I wrote this for my giveaway winner @huntress-valkyrie with her OC Maerys Baratheon 🖤, originally meant to be under 4k words but I loved the idea so it ended up much longer. Especially the Kaz Brekker quote prompt.

There's also a slightly-spicy, sweet bonus audio.

The past year had been extraordinary in many ways, a year of firsts for Maerys—the start of a career she felt so passionately about, a new place to live away from the castle she had called home for several years. The most remarkable may have been finding her long-held affection for Ominis Gaunt returned tenfold, settling into what could only be described as domestic bliss within a few short months.

Their careers kept them apart for long periods of time, but they both found their way back with increasing fervour, spending the hours they had together living life to the fullest. The minute Maerys opened the door to their shared house, Ominis had scooped her up into his arms, forgoing his interrogation of her day's activities to show her his adoration and remind her that she was his . Though he never said it, he despised that her job in Magical Law Enforcement was so dominated by men, all eager to be on first name terms with the exciting new female investigator.

Ominis' love was more intense than anything she'd expected—once he had admitted his feelings and she had reciprocated, he began courting her with a ferocity that took her breath away. Their love was all consuming and Maerys knew that Ominis would do absolutely anything for her, save one. He would never reveal her existence to his family.

Maerys understood, to some extent, why—their absolute disdain for her kind was well known, and had caused a world of problems for Ominis who had dealt with the tainted Gaunt name. They would never allow him to openly be with someone who they deemed so beneath them; to use their words, a witch with dirty blood . She had fought and fought to tell them but Ominis had refused her for what may have been the very first time. She knew it wasn't a matter of Ominis' shame, but in her darker days the demons reared their ugly heads to convince her otherwise. Today was one of those days.

The past twelve hours had been utterly gruelling; the culmination of months of planning was an arrest of epic proportions involving over a dozen officers from the department, all after an elusive wizard who had thus far managed to defraud hundreds. Their hard work had paid off, and Maerys, whilst exhausted to her bones, was eager to make the most of it. So rarely did her colleagues get to enjoy such a monumental event. 

"We're off to the Leaky Cauldron if you want to join us, Mae," Felicity offered, tucking her wand back into her holster.

"Love to. I don't want to stay too late though…," Maerys replied.

"I know."

Of course they knew—everyone knew that she spent every spare moment she had with Ominis. Their schedules didn't allow for too much of a social life, and whilst she missed having a more active circle of friends, she had priorities. Tonight was a rare opportunity to mingle with the witches and wizards she spent hours with every day, without the constant talk of Ministry bureaucracy.

The Leaky Cauldron was packed to the rafters with those enjoying a post-work beverage to blow off steam; harried-looking wizards in smart, pressed robes and Wizenagamot pins attached to their collars lined the bar looking thoroughly exhausted. Maerys wondered who'd they'd been sentencing—by the looks on their faces, the trial hadn't been an easy one.

"Firewhiskey, please," Maerys directed the barkeeper, who nodded and flicked his wand to pour the deep amber liquid.

"Same," a voice appeared beside her.

"Nicholas," Maerys nodded in greeting at the tall man beside her. 

"Starting on the strong stuff, I like it."

"I have limited time, I may as well make the most of it."

"It's alright to spend a little time away from your guard dog," he said, a hint of distaste in his voice.

Maerys rolled her eyes and threw back the whiskey, signalling for another before it had slid down her throat. Bitterly, she thought that of course, Nicholas would use this opportunity to berate her choice of partner and try to convince her of his own virtues. There was no end to the amount of people in her line of work who had taken an instant dislike to Ominis because of his family name. With a sigh, Maerys knew then that the night would be a long one.

-

"Are you okay?" Ominis' strained voice rang through the hallway.

Maerys closed the door, barely being able to step foot inside before she was clumsily enveloped by Ominis' arms. She sank into the embrace, her muscles releasing the tension they'd held since the day began.

"I'm fine, it went well."

"Where have you been?" Ominis asked with a slight frown. "I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry," Maerys said, cupping his cheek in her hand. "We went to celebrate afterwards."

"Ah."

Ominis' nose flared, a sure sign that he was quietly seething. There was no love lost between Ominis and her colleagues, particularly when they were so openly flirtatious towards her.

That didn't stop him from gripping her waist, or pressing his mouth against those soft, pillowy lips. Nor did his anger stop the desire that coursed through his veins, his possessive brand of love overcoming any and all inhibitions in a frantic need to claim her. The fire in their lovemaking burned so hot it threatened to consume them both in those moments, both wordlessly conveying that they belonged only to each other, forever and always.

As they basked silently in the afterglow, Ominis traced the flame-shaped birthmark on Maerys’ lower back as he often did—the skin textured differently to the surrounding flesh, the rough patch always guided his delicate fingers there. At one point, the attention to the red blemish might have bothered her, but she had since come to love it as much as his own imperfections; the beauty marks that flecked his cheeks and continued down his body reminded her of constellations, something to be celebrated and marvelled at, not hidden away.

“I wanted to discuss something with you…but perhaps now isn’t the most opportune moment,” Ominis said quietly, more to himself than to Maerys.

Her interest piqued, Maerys raised herself up onto her elbows and turned her head to look at Ominis, her mahogany locks cascading onto the pillow below her. Ominis continued his rhythmic stroking of her back, his touch noticeably gentler.

“What is it? Now’s a good a time as any.”

Ominis took a few seconds to collect his thoughts as she waited with bated breath, noticing the way his brows pinched slightly between his eyes and his kiss-swollen lips pursed. The face was familiar, one of either great concentration or great discomfort.

“It’s quite a delicate subject but I promise you I have no intention of fulfilling my obligation.”

Maerys’ heart thumped in her chest and she sat up on the bed, staring down at her beloved with unbelieving eyes. Finally, the day she’d dreaded had come, a mere year into their courtship.

“Who?”

Ominis sighed and lifted himself off the mattress to sit next to Maerys, his fingers tracing her goose pimpled flesh to find her contorted face, cupping her cheek lovingly. 

“A…cousin. I promise you, I have no intention of marrying her, or anyone else.”

“This never would have happened if you didn’t insist on keeping me a secret, Ominis.”

“For your own safety , Maerys.”

“Or for your own convenience?”

“ How can you say that? I want nothing more in this world than to declare my love for you. You must know that by now.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Ominis. Perhaps another day, but I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I love you…most ardently.”

Maerys had neither the energy or inclination to reply, merely settling back onto the bed and waiting for Ominis, who sighed and lay back a moment later. She may have been able to hold a grudge, but there was no reason why she would deprive herself of his warmth on such a cold day. She told herself that the blustery winds and driving rain outside the window was reason enough to need the extra heat, and certainly not because she craved his comfort.

-

The tension carried on into morning, with Maerys finding herself so distracted making breakfast that a wayward flick of her wand left the kitchen covered in goopy porridge. Ominis took over shortly after that, his eyebrows never fully relaxing as he rolled up his shirt sleeves to prepare them some much-needed fuel.

Maerys watched Ominis cook, as always finding his care and attention to detail entrancing. She quietly sipped her tea, stewing over what he'd divulged the previous evening, and finding herself at a loss as to how to proceed. She was angry— of course at his despicable family but at Ominis , too. 

It was high time his father knew about Maerys and accepted her. Whether or not he would was another issue, but she wouldn't tolerate such a slight as to be so completely unacknowledged. The milky Darjeeling slid down her throat and warmed her stomach as she formed a plan for her day off work and Ominis served their food, none the wiser. He would thank her later, even if it meant a day or two of flared tempers culminating in a passionate reunification.

"Eat up," Ominis said, breaking Maerys out of her daydream.

Ominis rolled down his sleeves and smoothed his waistcoat as he settled at the table. The breakfast was delicious, as it usually was when Ominis prepared it.

“What will you do today?” Ominis asked.

“Oh, I’m…not sure,” Maerys replied evasively.

If Ominis found the answer suspicious or unsatisfactory, he didn’t say, choosing to forgo further argument and concentrate on his food. They ate quickly and Ominis gave himself a final smooth over, grabbing his suitcase and holstering his wand whilst Maerys followed him to the door—a ritual they never deviated from whatever the current mood. They would always say goodbye, the unspoken truth that it could always be the last.

The kiss she gave Ominis was an apology for what she was intending to do; slow and passionate with a heavy admission of love. Ominis' hands wandered over her scantily-clad body, still dressed in only her silk nightdress and a delicate dressing gown. She hadn't intended to distract him so thoroughly, but the low growl in his throat and twitch in his trousers sent her own blood rushing, an ache between her legs so intense she couldn't control the whimper that left her mouth.

Ominis' tongue swept into her mouth, hungry and demanding as his hands kneaded the soft flesh of her breasts through the flimsy fabric. Her nipples responded, peaking under his touch as she moaned longingly into his mouth. Maerys always found Ominis irresistible no matter her mood, and the way his composure broke down around her was a power she never knew she craved.

Her head spun, revelling in the way his erection pressed painfully into her hip, probably soaking his carefully pressed work trousers with arousal that she had brought forth. 

"Shouldn't you be getting to work?" Maerys said teasingly.

"You know full well I can't leave until I've had you now," Ominis replied, a hand slipping underneath her nightdress.

His delicate fingers pushed aside the lacy undergarments and found the pool of slick between her legs and she moaned, stumbling backwards against the hallway wall. Ominis followed, not allowing their contact to break as he resumed the rhythmic grinding of his stiff cock against her. His lips traced her neck as his fingers parted her folds and he dragged his digits lazily across her swollen nub, spreading her arousal.

Maerys met his hand with a movement of her hips, sighing with every brush of his fingers against her most sensitive area. She had no intention of dragging out the encounter, as she watched Ominis' flushed face with lust-filled eyes, her core ached for him. Her hands flew to his thoroughly-dirtied trousers, biting her tongue at the sight of the pooling precum on the straining fabric. She made quick work of his buttons, releasing his thick cock and a moan from his mouth, hot breath against the skin of her neck.

She'd barely wrapped her hand around him before Ominis had spun her around, his length pressing against her behind as he gathered the silk above her hips. He continued to kiss her neck, muttering sweet nothings as he lined himself up with her soaking entrance before pushing the tip inside her slowly, allowing her time to adjust to his size. They moaned together as he slid deeper into her soaking wet hole, her walls clenching eagerly in anticipation of the glorious climax she soon knew she'd be experiencing.

"Fuck , Ominis," Maerys sighed, always surprised at how he managed to make her feel so full .

"You've made me late for work, you know," Ominis said as his cock retreated. 

He slid back inside her, pressing harder and deeper each time. Maerys arched her back into the thrusts, his cock hitting her satisfyingly deep and sending shockwaves through her primed and panting body.

"You feel so good," she barely managed to whimper through his forceful thrusts.

"And you feel absolutely incredible", brushing her dark, waist-length hair over her shoulder and continuing his assault on her tender neck.

She knew he'd leave marks, another reminder that she belonged to him alone. She would show them proudly, brushing them with her fingers fondly as she brushed her tangled hair later that day.

Ominis' rhythm ramped up, the empty hallways filling with the sounds of their slickened skin slapping, Maerys' arousal thoroughly coating their most intimate areas as Ominis became more and more dishevelled. Her soft and blood-swollen walls enveloped his cock so completely, every roll of his hips bringing them both closer to the edge.

"I do enjoy it when you wear this," Ominis whispered in her ear, his hands wandering over her waist. "I can feel every…curve…of your delicious little body."

Maerys gasped and pushed backwards against his cock as Ominis resumed his teasing of her nipples, practically drooling against her neck. She could feel her orgasm brewing, her breath growing ragged and muscles twitching in anticipation. Ominis couldn't fail to notice the same.

"Come on, my love. Show me how good I feel."

"Ominis…," Maerys sighed his name and fingers clawed uselessly at the wallpaper as she reached her climax.

Her core clenched before her orgasm exploded, sending waves through her body and gripping Ominis' cock. Soft moans brushed her ear as Ominis reached his own blissful release, filling her with his cum with every squeeze around his shaft. Maerys was against the wall, Ominis' weight pressing her hard as he grinded his hips into her, milking every last drop of his seed inside her.

When Ominis' was empty and Maerys a limp and bedraggled mess, he pulled her back and held her tightly, planting kisses on every exposed inch of skin he could find. 

"I love you," he sighed.

"I love you, too," Maerys sighed, reaching back to gently stroke his jaw.

"Now, I really must change and get to work, lest I find myself out of a job for my tardiness."

-

Ominis had left in a hurry, planting a swift kiss on her lips on his way out of the door, leaving Maerys alone to ready herself for the day. The first order of business was to wash the sex from her skin, letting the water and gentle soaps lift the residue from her thighs. She squirmed slightly as her fingers brushed over her intimate area, slightly sore and puffy. She dressed smartly, taking care with her appearance more than she might usually.

Meeting Ominis’ family should have been a joyous affair, but the Gaunts had made such a thing a fairytale. Maerys would instead be confronting them at a great disadvantage—not only did they have no idea she even existed, she’d be asking them to accept her and break off Ominis’ engagement. 

There was no use dwelling on the what-ifs of the encounter; as Maerys left the house to apparate to her destination, she ran over the words she wanted to say. A crack of apparition later, and she landed in a green expanse far away from the city she’d just left.

The Gaunt manor was as imposing as she'd imagined—though the house was large and likely once an ostentatious show of pureblood wealth, it was now run down and a shadow of its former glory. As with any magical dwelling, particularly for a powerful family, the building and grounds were enveloped by wards—this wouldn't simply be a case of walking up to the front door and knocking. Only those who were invited would be allowed to enter the wards, and knowing the Gaunts, Maerys wouldn't have been surprised if an intruder found themselves in searing pain. The place practically rippled with dark magic.

Maerys likely could have taken them down, one by one. She was a powerful witch with a background in law enforcement; this was part and parcel of her job. However, she preferred to remain on good (or at least civil) terms with Ominis' father by the time she left. Tentatively taking out her wand, she pointed it at the boundary and shot red sparks at the wards. They fizzled and disappeared as they hit the shimmering dome, and Maerys waited.

She'd expected a servant of some sort, perhaps a house elf to greet her, instead a tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway. Perhaps it was a trick of perspective and the door was smaller than it appeared, but the man seemed to tower over everything he walked past. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears and as he approached, Maerys noted the hostile glare on his otherwise handsome face.

"Who are you?" the man snarled.

"A friend of Ominis'. I need to talk to Mr Gaunt," Maerys replied, summoning all of her confidence and willing her voice to be steady.

The man sneered, his dark eyes piercing through Maerys like daggers.

"We don't like friends of Ominis here. Blood traitor."

"Who…?"

"Marvolo. Marvolo Gaunt. And you're trespassing."

Maerys stared up at Ominis' brother in disbelief. He was the polar opposite of Ominis, and Maerys wondered if this was a quirk of their notorious inbreeding or his mother had simply been unfaithful when producing one of the brothers. His skin was tanned, eyes and hair darker, much taller and muscular than his elegant and fair brother. He had none of Ominis' refined air, nor his politeness, apparently.

"Please, I only need a few minutes and then I'll leave. I think Mr Gaunt would appreciate what I have to say."

Marvolo regarded her with dead eyes, devoid of warmth, before drawing his wand and waving an arch over the wards to create a path to admit her. Maerys stepped through the opening as Marvolo strode off without another word. She assumed she was meant to follow him, but his strides were so long she found herself practically running to keep up. His cruel smirk as he looked back at her indicated this had likely been his intention; the humiliation already beginning.

Maerys' heart thumped in her chest as she skipped across the threshold into the manor, eyes darting around at the dilapidated hallway and once-grand staircase now reduced to scuffed wood and tattered carpet. She'd always assumed Ominis exaggerated about his family, down to the financial situation that was a great source of shame for him. To Maerys' dismay, it appeared he'd been truthful, including Marvolo's cruel sneer and intimidating air. 

The house hummed with dark magic, and her gut twisted as she considered all that Ominis had told her. His family were dangerous , unhinged , utterly without conscience . If he had been telling her the truth, Maerys had made a huge lapse in judgement in coming to their manor alone.

Marvolo led her down a dim corridor to an inconspicuous door and leaned against the wall opposite, watching and waiting. Maerys' eyes darted from him to the door, thankful to finally be leaving his presence. She knocked on the wood and waited until a voice called from inside and the door flew open and she was pulled inside by a stream of magic. The slam from behind her and click of a lock indicated that she was now alone with a different man, standing in the middle of the room with his wand aloft.

"Who are you? State your business," he demanded.

Maerys barely had a chance to take in her surroundings before scrambling for words to answer him. This must have been Tiberius Gaunt, Ominis' father. Much older than she'd expected and more reminiscent of Ominis than his brother, his pale skin reflected in the dim light from the oil lamps dotted around the room. He had only a hint of Ominis' beauty; his eyes were cold, narrowed and full of suspicion.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Mr Gaunt. I'm a friend of Ominis' and wished to speak with you about something."

His glare softened at the mention of his son and he lowered his wand, retreating to an armchair amongst the towers of dusty books that lined the walls of the small library. Maerys followed, perching awkwardly on the chair opposite him as he watched with great interest.

"A friend, you say? What could a friend have to say to me, hm? A day after his betrothal, no less. Don't take me for a fool , girl."

Maerys swallowed thickly, a chill running down her spine at the accusation. He was right, of course—her attempt at subtlety was anything but. 

"You're correct. Myself and Ominis have been…romantically involved for some time."

"I see. And you wish to cast yourself into the ring, as it were? What of your heritage, girl?"

"My mother was a witch," Maerys replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Just your mother?" he pressed, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Maerys nodded—she had never been made to feel less than adequate because of her blood status, but the way Tiberius Gaunt looked at her that moment was enough to erase every last drop of her self-assuredness. She knew his thoughts on the matter, and yet she had presented herself before him with a demand; or perhaps it was a plea.

"I love Ominis very much, as he loves me. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your family name."

"My son is already a disappointment, I'll not have another besmirch my family's legacy. He will marry a pureblood befitting his own status."

His eyes flashed menacingly as he leaned forward and stood up off from the old armchair. 

"Leave, and I suggest you don't return. Break off your involvement with my son and I'll say no more. Refuse, and I'll do more than scold you," the old man snarled.

The conversation was at an end, and Maerys was more than eager to leave. As she left silently through the library door, she wondered if he might see reason given time to consider the matter. Surely , his son's happiness counted for something ?

The thought was interrupted by the tall, dark shadow that cast itself across her as she stepped into the hallway. Marvolo had clearly been listening to the exchange, perched still in the spot she had left him against the tatty wall.

"I can show myself out," Maerys said, a note of irritation in her voice.

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere just yet, sweet thing."

"What…?"

Maerys gasped, cutting her inquiry short as Marvolo's hand found itself to her neck, his long fingers encircling her throat and squeezing the breath right out of her windpipe. She struggled, clawing at the hand before using the last of her conscious thought to reach for her wand. 

"Incarcerous ."

The spell uttered wasn't her own. Her wrists were bound by ropes, summoned from her attacker's wand, twining and squeezing her skin until it burned. His malevolent stare was the last thing she saw before the scene faded to black, her last thought of her lover and soulmate, wondering if she would ever see him again.

-

Her wand was gone. The thin stick of laurel wood no longer pressed against her hip as she awoke on what appeared to be a cold stone floor. Maerys winced as she moved and found herself still bound, the summoned ropes cutting painfully into her wrists. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room and her head swam uncomfortably from the sudden lack of oxygen, she felt her eyes sting with tears. Thank Merlin, I'm still alive , she thought.

Looking around to get her bearings, she noted the vaulted ceiling and lack of windows, the only light from a conjured flame that sat in a jar too far away to be of any use. She had been bound to a pillar to suppress any notion of escape.

"You're awake, finally. I was beginning to grow bored."

Maerys jumped, pulling an amused cackle from Marvolo's throat as he stepped out of the shadows.

"What are you doing? You know I'm a law enforcement officer, I can have you arrested and sent to Azkaban for this," she spat with false confidence.

Marvolo's face darkened, the smirk falling from his lips as he strode closer to her. Her neck craned painfully to watch his looming figure approach, his wand gripped firmly by his side.

"Are you now? That really doesn't give me an incentive to let you go now, does it?"

Maerys shuddered as the blood rushed from her head and stomach lurched. She'd been trained for this, but at no point had there been an eventuality where she was completely and utterly alone . She should have a partner, or at least someone who knew where she was. She had neither. She needed her wand.

"Why are you doing this?" Maerys asked, almost a whisper, watching Marvolo carefully.

She needed to draw him closer, to see if he held her wand. How she would get it back, she had no idea. One step at a time .

Marvolo took the bait and inched closer, dropping to his knees to survey the defeated look on her face that he'd brought forth with great satisfaction. Her eyes flitted across his broad shoulders and down to his waist, seeing no hint of her wand on his person.

"You muddy our house and then presume to do the same to our family's bloodline," Marvolo growled. "I may despise my brother's weakness but I won't stand for him bringing a mudblood into the fold."

"Ominis is a grown man, he can decide himself who he marries."

Marvolo reached out a long arm and cupped Maerys' cheek as she remained frozen, eyes locked on his with fierce defiance.

"No, my little brother doesn't know what's good for him. No matter how delicious you are, your blood will always be tainted by Muggle filth."

His thumb ran over her bottom lip as he smirked down at her—he was clearly enjoying toying with her. Maerys’ breath quickened as he slipped his digit into her mouth and pressed onto her tongue, pulling a low growl from his throat as she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Her eyes remained impassive, but the tremble in her shoulders gave away her discomfort.

Marvolo’s smirk turned into a devilish grin as he returned to his feet, the colour draining from Maerys’ face as she noticed his obvious arousal whilst he adjusted his trousers. He was enjoying her humiliation, and she knew from Ominis’ description of the sadistic man standing before her that he wouldn’t be sated by simply holding her hostage.

"I think it's time we taught you a lesson in respect. Crucio ."

-

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Ominis had been doing little but waiting after returning home from work, wondering where Maerys had disappeared to. He initially thought she'd decided to head into Diagon Alley, perhaps meet some friends; but as the hours dragged on the dread settled over him as his mind raced through worst-case scenarios. 

Her absence was uncharacteristic. Maerys often made sure to be home when he was, as Ominis did the same—they had so little time together that they made the most of every minute their schedules aligned. The absence of a note was even more concerning, and Ominis had searched every inch of their spare living space for some indication of where she'd gone.

He stood in the living room, twirling his wand in his fingers, deep in thought. He was running out of ideas and he wasn’t one to simply wait, resting on his laurels with dread and uncertainty clouding his mind. He’d contacted her colleagues at the Ministry and any friends he could get hold of, even her numerous cousins had no idea where she was, and showed little concern when Ominis voiced his own.

The final, dreadful thought that crossed his mind was surely too far-fetched to consider. Ominis ran through the previous night, every detail he could remember and word exchanged and landed on the conclusion that where Maerys had found herself was the last place on Earth Ominis would want her.

He could be wrong, and he sincerely hoped he was—though the impromptu visit would raise more questions than he had answers for, he would make some excuse or other; inquiries into his betrothed, perhaps. Ominis holstered his wand, running a hand through his hair with a sigh before striding to the fireplace and finding the pot of floo powder on the mantle. He stepped onto the hearth and threw in the powder, speaking his destination as the green flames enveloped his person, sucking him into the network with an uncomfortable squeezing pull.

He landed with a jolt into silence, not even the soft crackle of a candle filled the room once the floo flames had died away. Ominis pushed his shirt sleeves up and fingered his wand handle and unsheathed it as he made his way through the living room. He knew the manor and its layout, but his wand afforded him an edge in times such as these, as well as being ready for any confrontation should it arise. 

“Homenum Revelio ,” he whispered, his wand vibrating at the presence of someone else in the house and the tip drifting downward.

Ominis was on the ground floor, and there was only one thing that lay below him—the cellar. His heart beat rapidly and pace quickened as he made his way through the hallways to the tiny door that led down into the dank underground cavern. To call it a room would be a stretch—once it had been used to store food and wine, when the family had such things in abundance. Now it was used only as a place for Marvolo to indulge his particularly disgraceful proclivities.

There was no way to be subtle about his entrance; the creaky stairs would reveal his presence immediately. The only thing Ominis had was the element of surprise. He pushed the door open and aimed his wand into the room, casting a preemptive shield charm in anticipation of an attack, but was instead greeted with the heart-wrenching sound of muffled sobs.

Ominis ran quicker than he’d ever done before, bounding down the stairs with little regard for who else might hear him, his wand and the gentle gasps guiding his way to a crumpled body on the floor. He dropped to his knees and his free hand drifted shakily over the figure in front of him; a cotton shirt, soft hair, chilled skin and a sliver of fabric, cutting into plush lips.

Ominis threw down his wand and got to work relieving Maerys of her gag, her coughs and unstifled cries filling the cold, damp cellar. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her being thrown down here for hours whilst he had pointlessly made inquiries into her whereabouts. The tremor in his hand wasn’t from trepidation, it was from pure, unadulterated hate .

“Ominis, my hands,” she gasped.

He found the ropes, grimacing at the slick skin underneath them, the bindings cutting deep enough to draw blood. Once she was freed, she threw herself into Ominis’ arms, clinging to him for dear life as his rage built to almost unmanageable levels.

“What happened, my love? Was this Marvolo’s doing?”

There would be time to ask the question of how she found herself to be in this hellhole, but for now, he needed to know what had occurred. The amount of wrath he brought down on his dear brother would depend on her answer. Maerys continued to grip him tightly, still crouched on the floor as his hands gently stroked her hair and she steadied her breath enough to reply.

“Yes. I shouldn’t have come, I thought…”

“Please, tell me what he did,” Ominis interrupted, picking his wand from the floor and holstering it once again.

She inhaled sharply before answering as Ominis’ stomach clenched painfully.

“He used an unforgivable curse on me. I…he might have used another, I’m not sure. I don’t remember…”

The fact that Maerys was still alive meant that Marvolo had tortured her, her shaking hands testament to the fact—one of the curse’s aftereffects. Ominis’ head swam as he absorbed the last of her answer, imagining all the possibilities of what his brother could have done with her under the influence of the Imperius curse.

Ominis’ ears could scarcely register her continued talking as a blind rage overcame him, the only thought in his mind now one of seeking revenge. He would pay for what he had done if it was the last thing Ominis did, and he fully expected it would be. Ominis’ death would be a small price to pay if he could take Marvolo down with him.

“Ominis?”

Her voice brought him back to the present, and he stood up to help her shakily to her feet. Ominis needed to get Maerys to safety before he could finish his business here.

“Come, there’s a tunnel here that leads to just outside the wards. Can you stand to apparate with me?”

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” she said weakly.

The walk was as quick as they could make it, through the cramped underground path that led to nowhere. It had been used for many things in the past; smuggling, an escape route, a place to hide dark artifacts that his family didn't want to contaminate the manor house. The tunnel had been blocked years ago and never reopened, but Ominis had used it as a hiding place for years whilst he lived here. Marvolo had no idea it existed, and it had become Ominis’ sanctuary from his brother’s provocations.

“Hold on tight, I’ll get you home,” Ominis said gently.

Maerys gripped his bicep and he turned, disapparating and reappearing in the alleyway behind their house. Maerys stumbled and groaned and Ominis held her steady, leading her inside and straight to the sofa where she collapsed.

“I need to take care of this,” Ominis said.

“Please, Ominis, don’t.”

“Darling, if he knows about you he will not let your escape go unpunished.”

Before she could object any further, Ominis had planted a kiss on her forehead and strode out of the door to return to his family home, to exact his revenge.

-

Ominis crept through the quiet house, constantly on guard. Though his instinct was to shield himself, he knew that it would do little to protect him if he met Marvolo. He cast the charm to reveal human presence once again, ignoring the fainter magical signature in the south wing which was likely his father cooped up in the library. The other was outdoors in the grounds.

Following his wand’s lead, Ominis headed into the cool night air, following the brickwork of the manor house towards the gardens. He had no idea what they now consisted of, only that the once lovingly-planted rows of English roses that lined the gravel path were now overgrown, the thorns prone to catching on clothing. The crunching underfoot wasn’t conducive to a stealthy approach, but Ominis was hoping that Marvolo was too busy indulging in his drug of choice to notice his approach.

The fact that he’d simply left after performing such atrocities on his Maerys only incensed Ominis further; his nails dug painfully into his palms and jaw clenched in intense and righteous anger. He’d often heard people describe this unbridled fury as ‘seeing red’—Ominis found that this state felt like an out of body experience, his actions seemingly made by someone other than himself. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d wanted to, and he had absolutely no desire to do so. 

Ominis was correct in his assumption and found Marvolo slumped on a bench, half-sedated and doused in the sickly-sweet scent of opium.

“Ah, there he is. Come to reclaim your whore?” Marvolo slurred, making no attempt at moving.

For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, Ominis smiled in response, knowing precisely what his next move would be. Perhaps his brother’s words had given Ominis the justification for the flick of his wrist that caused a strangled moan from the bench. There was now no stopping him, fuelled by pure hatred, the spells Ominis fired off were unrelenting.

Marvolo scrambled to avoid the attacks and Ominis was sure he was bleeding heavily judging by the limping and groaning.

“Crucio!”

Ominis spun to the right, avoiding the curse and righting himself, firing off a counterattack.

“Confringo!”

The fire that erupted from his wand warmed his skin, blazing through the air and colliding with something definitely not its intended target. Ominis thought that the garden could have been set ablaze, but the thought didn’t bother him as he continued his evasive footwork.

“Cru-”

“Diffindo!”

Ominis’ severing charm hit its target and cut off Marvolo’s curse before he could finish the incantation. The air was quiet, far too quiet, until Ominis heard a strangled cry and horrific bubbling sound. Something wet hit his face and he flinched, the crunching of gravel marking the moment his brother fell to the floor and gasped his last breath.

Ominis inhaled sharply, the beads of liquid rolling down his face and dripping into his parted lips, revealing the unmistakable metallic tang of blood . The pure Gaunt blood. He wondered if any of that mattered—they all bled the same. His brother’s supposedly superior blood still ran down his face and pooled at his feet, his lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground amongst the scented roses. He could have been a Muggle—in death, the power and influence that came with the Gaunt name meant nothing.

He should have been horrified, instead Ominis only felt relief, and a disturbing amount of satisfaction as the raw power coursed through his veins. The immediate threat had passed, but as his mind cleared, his thoughts turned to the other Gaunt still present on the estate. What would he do when he learned of Marvolo’s death? Ominis knew that the only way to keep Maerys safe was to ensure that his father knew exactly what he had done.

First, he had to dispose of the body. The body . Such a detached way to describe one's flesh and blood. Yet, Ominis found it hard to mourn the loss as he cleared the earth next to the manor wall with a flick of his wand. Only when he touched the still-warm arm of his brother did his gut twist and nausea threatened to overwhelm him until he forced himself to breath deep, shaky breaths.

By the time Marvolo was buried, Ominis was caked in dirt and blood, sweating and trembling as he gripped his wand to cast a fire spell, scorching the wall where his brother's makeshift grave lay. He walked in a silent haze to the house, seeking out the man who had just lost the very last of his legacy in a matter of minutes.

Of course Ominis found his father cooped up in his library, none the wiser as to what had occurred. The shocked silence that met Ominis' arrival told him how he must have appeared—the man rarely had nothing to say. 

"What…have you done?" Tiberius finally uttered after several moments.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Maerys. Did you know what Marvolo did, here, in this house?" Ominis asked, his voice quiet and deadly.

"What are you talking about, boy? What have you done? " 

Ominis knew then that his father had no inkling of what had happened right under his nose. Too distracted by his own agenda, he'd failed to control his son's impulses as he'd done time and time again. Marvolo's reckless disregard for subtlety and secrecy was always going to be his downfall; only the component of being by Ominis' hand was unexpected.

"Marvolo took her, tortured her, right below your feet," Ominis said coldly, pointing his finger to the floor. "So I buried him. Six feet deep."

"You…you killed your own brother?"

The first time he'd heard fear in his father's voice sent a chill down Ominis' spine, the cloud of rage lifting slightly. What had he done?

"A reminder, father…to not interfere," Ominis whispered with the last of his ability to speak.

He left before his composure broke down, his hands shaking violently as the door slammed behind him and he stumbled back to the fireplace to carry him home. He still tasted the blood on his lips, the sweet smell of the opium lingering in his nostrils. His head pounded and pulse raced, barely noticing that he'd been pulled into the floo flames until he landed in his house to the sound of Maerys' frantic voice.

Ominis fell to the floor, expelling the last of what was left in his stomach onto the floorboards as his shaky arms struggled to keep him from collapsing into it.

"Ominis? Ominis, what happened? Please , answer me," Maerys sobbed, her hands on his back, his cheek, his hair.

He heard her gasp as she realised that the blood wasn't his own.

-

Maerys had never seen Ominis quite so terrified; his body trembled as he struggled to breathe, unable to tell her what had happened. She had a good idea, especially when she realised that the blood that splattered his face and drenched his shirt wasn't his. It had started to dry, clumping in his hair which fell dishevelled in front of his glazed eyes. Oh Gods, what had he done?

Maerys held him for what seems like hours until he finally formed a sentence, and whilst she'd expected it, the words seemed completely alien coming from Ominis.

"I killed him. My brother is dead and…buried."

"Come with me, let's have a shower and get the…dirt off of you," Maerys said gently.

The water ran brown and red for minutes, Ominis turning the temperature high to almost scalding levels as they huddled under the stream. Ominis was slowly coming out of the shock, the shaking leaving his extremities, whether because of the comforting shower or Maerys' tight embrace she didn't know or care. Once they were scrubbed clean, she led him to their bed and guided him to sit. He put up no fight, nor seemed to register what was happening.

"Ominis, I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have…"

"Don't apologise. I can't bear to think of what he did to you," Ominis whispered.

Maerys sat beside him, watching his pensive expression as droplets of water from his hair ran down his cheeks and dripped onto his bare shoulders. His ivory skin prickled with goosebumps from the chill but he made no attempt to move.

"Your father will never bother us again," Maerys said, fingers pushing the wayward blond strands from his turbulent eyes.

"Because of what I've done. I am the monster I've always been accused of being," he said with a mirthless laugh.

"No, because you've shown him you'll do anything to protect me. I love you so much, Ominis."

"How can you possibly love me after seeing what I'm capable of?"

"How can I not love you? You saved me, Ominis."

Maerys sat behind him, straddling her legs either side of his waist and wrapping her arms around his chest. She kissed the trail of beauty marks on his shoulder that led to his cheek, each press of her lips in rhythm with his heavy breath. His heart beat rapidly against her hands, his skin warming under her touch—both were a reminder that they were alive ; something that Maerys could no longer take for granted.

"I love you, Ominis Gaunt," she whispered into his ear.

"I love you, though I don't deserve yours," Ominis sighed.

Her fingers traced the contours of his chest, following the trail of soft blond hair down to his taut stomach as her lips continued to roam his neck. 

"I decide who deserves my love, and I choose you," Maerys whispered against his skin.

Ominis turned and tilted his head towards her, silently asking for more. Maerys obliged by sliding around the bed sheets to face him, lowering herself into his lap and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. She couldn't have him regret what had happened or doubt her feelings for him—Ominis was her saviour, and she loved him more than she ever thought possible. She told him so with how she clung to his naked form, pressing herself so tightly into him that they might have been one body.

Ominis responded slowly, unsure of whether he deserved such devotion. Their mouths brushed with heavy breaths and Maerys ran her tongue tentatively along his lip. She was met with Ominis' own, their heads instinctively tilting to deepen the kiss as their tongues brushed and lips captured the others'. All residue had been washed from their skins, leaving only Ominis' comforting scent and the lavender soap they'd used—he smelled as he always did, like home .

"Tell me you love me again," Ominis asked gently, placing tender kisses along Maerys' cheek.

"I love you, Ominis. I always will."

Ominis hummed approvingly as his mouth moved to her neck and hands spurred into action, delicate fingers sliding over her bare thighs to gently wrap around her waist. Maerys continued to mutter sweet nothings as he kissed her, his warm skin under her ear sending tingles down her spine and peaking her nipples as they brushed against his chest. 

She ached for him—every stroke of his hand and flick of his tongue quickening her pulse and drew soft moans from her mouth. Ominis responded with sounds of adoration, muttering her name as his arousal became apparent underneath her. His growing erection pressed against her soaking wet heat as her hips rocked teasingly to meet him. Ominis' length pressed into Maerys' slick folds and brushed her sensitive nub, and she moaned and gripped his hair as the friction teased the growing tension in her core.

"Oh, fuck ," she gasped, sliding along his length with increasing fervour.

Ominis held her tightly, pulling her down each time she reached his tip, squeezing precum from his swollen head as his lap became increasingly messy, coated in their arousal. Their lips met again, gasps exchanged into each other's mouths as they teased each other senseless, waiting for one of them to give in. It was Maerys who caved first, too eager to show Ominis the full extent of her love and gratitude.

She slid off of his lap with a regretful sigh, her clit swollen and still throbbing for stimulation, but she would gladly forgo her own pleasure to focus on Ominis first. His own groan turned into a whisper of her name and he fell back on the bed as Maerys took his slippery length in her hand. She shuffled down the bed, lining herself up with his tantalisingly swollen head, running her tongue over the weeping tip and moaning as his salty precum covered her tongue.

He tasted delicious , and each swipe of her tongue she tasted herself, only further spurring her on and dizzying her head with arousal. Maerys adored watching Ominis as she bobbed up and down on his cock; the way his mouth gaped as sinful moans filled the air and his pale cheeks flushed a deep pink as she built his orgasm. Her lips wrapped around his girth, taking him further into her mouth with each movement of her head until she found a comfortable rhythm.

Their combined moans and the wet slurping of her mouth filled the room as she worked him into state, Ominis practically writhing underneath her as his cock hit the back of her throat and she concentrated to control her gag reflex. Maerys could have made him finish then, but the moment demanded a greater intimacy, which Ominis seemed to agree with as his hands gently tugged at her hair or lift her off.

"Stop, please. You feel too good," he sighed.

Maerys gave the base of his shaft a final squeeze, her mouth retreating with every drop of his precum she could gather on her tongue. Ominis shuddered, wrapping his own hand over hers, holding her firm grip still as he controlled the urge to finish.

"I want to fill you, but…but not yet."

Maerys' eyes lingered on his cock, his hand finally leaving hers and setting her free to clamber back onto his thighs, Ominis' arms greeting her with a tight embrace as they exchanged a deep, slow kiss. As she pulled back to look at him, her heart skipped a beat when she met his pale blue irises. 

Merlin, he was beautiful . She wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, so submissive to her. It meant the world to Maerys that Ominis trusted her to hand over control in that moment and let her show him how much he meant to her.

"I'm going to go slowly," she whispered.

Her hand reached down between them, lining his tip up with her soaking entrance and pressing her weight into his lap. She gasped as he stretched her, her walls twitching in anticipation of the fullness his girth would provide. Ominis held her tightly, his face buried in her damp hair that muffled his moans. She stilled once his length was inside her, enjoying the sensation of his stiff erection filling her so satisfyingly as she nibbled on his lower lip.

Ominis' hands roamed her back, skimming her waist and gripping her soft behind, his fingers kneading her flesh as his cock twitched needily inside her. 

"You're so warm . You really do feel incredible, my love," Ominis whispered.

Maerys whimpered as his sultry voice filled her ears, the ache between her legs now painful as she longed to feel more of him. With another gentle bite of his lip, she shifted herself slowly forward and back again, giving a small shift of her hips at the bottom of the movement which had Ominis' fingers pressing bruisingly into her cheeks and a growl brewing in his throat.

She did the same again, and again, keeping her eyes on him for every reaction and just to drink in his pleasure. His face was relaxed, flushed and expression utterly blissful as she rode him slowly, humming softly with every breath she took. She brushed her thumb over his moist lips, and he placed a gentle kiss on the digit with a tiny smile which made her heart leap and abdomen flutter. She'd made him smile, even now.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Ominis," Maerys said, gazing down at him in complete adoration.

Ominis rolled his hips gently to meet her, a high-pitched mewl escaping her mouth as his cock hit deep inside her. 

"All that matters is you think so…as I believe you're…perfect, in every way," Ominis replied, moans punctuating his loving words.

The pace Maerys had set had quickened with every thrust Ominis met her with, their kisses and touches growing more needy by the second. Her fingers laced through his hair and one hand braced herself against the bed as she continued to grind on his cock, eyes rolling back into her head as he hit her just right at the bottom.

Maerys knew they wouldn't last much longer, her own orgasm building so quickly with the vigorous thrusts she thought the blood rushing from her head might cause her to faint. She was utterly exhausted, but she couldn't stop now, not when it felt so damn good . 

"I'm so close," she sighed, gripping the bed sheet above his head for purchase.

"So am I… f-fuck . Come for me, darling."

"Oh, Ominis…"

Maerys moaned her love's name as she met her sweet release, the waves of pleasure burning her skin as all she heard was the blood pounding in her ears and muffled groans underneath her. She clenched around Ominis' cock, pushing him over the edge with her as he gripped her tightly, hips rolling upwards into her and letting his cum coat her walls with every pulse. They sighed together, exchanging breathy kisses as they rode out their orgasms until Maerys collapsed on top of Ominis, every last drop of energy expended.

They stayed together until their lips were sore and neither could keep their eyes open, muttering their admissions of love and promises as the sun rose and they fell into a deep sleep. Maerys knew that Ominis would do anything to protect her, as she'd known from the moment he had first told her he loved her. Now she knew that particular truth would haunt him, and that she would spend every day keeping him safe from his demons, and she would do it gladly.

[mel-0n-earth]

BG3 February Writing Challenge: Day 6

Day 6 (SFW): Teaching each other how to do something.

Original prompt list

[This is a little continuation of Tav and Dammon's story from my series The Hellion's Heart. However, apart from the last few paragraphs after the page break, it can be read entirely as a standalone. Please note that while the original series leaves Tav's race open-ended, this little drabble assumes a non-tiefling Tav.]

Tav frowned down at the scrap of paper in their hand. They’d been helping Dammon organize his papers in preparation for the upcoming tax season. The bulk of it had been dull work—organizing receipts by date, sorting through old jottings to see whether any of them contained pertinent information about business expenses, or if they simply needed to be thrown out. This particular note, however, was quite indecipherable.

“Hey Dammon?”

“Yeah?” his voice echoed faintly from the other room, where he was busy taking stock inventory.

“I can’t read your handwriting on this one. Can you take a look?”

“Sure, one moment.” She heard a gentle clattering sound as he dropped whatever he’d been working on, followed by the thump of bootsteps over the floorboards and the spicy musk of his breath as he leaned over her shoulder.

“Oh,” he breathed, plucking the note from her hand. “No wonder you couldn’t read it. It’s in infernal.”

“Really? I didn’t know you wrote infernal.”

His eyes darted over his own handwriting. “Sure. A lot of tieflings use it for privacy. Zevlor recommended we use it when we were in the Grove. Got quite a bit of practice from that. I still use it sometimes, so I won’t forget. This one’s just a shopping list, so we can toss it.”

Tav peered down at the note, wondering at the strangely beautiful script. “Is it hard to learn? The writing system, I mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so. Though I suppose it comes naturally to tieflings. Still, it’s not all that hard. I could teach you, if you’d like.”

Tav took a moment to study the lettering. “You know what, why not. It could be fun.”

Dammon’s face lit up with a warm smile that made Tav’s chest warm. “Alright then. Tonight, when I’m done with work, I’ll teach you.”

***

As it turned out, learning infernal did not come easily to non-tieflings. Patient a teacher as Dammon was, Tav struggled to discern the jagged letters from one another, eyes swimming with what she perceived to be nothing but chicken scratch.

Still, she was determined to learn, so Dammon left them to practice with a handwritten copy of the alphabet, which Tav carefully copied every evening before bed. As difficult as Infernal was, Dammon had mentioned not wanting to forget how to use it, so it must’ve been important to him. If that was the case, then Tav wanted to be able to share it with him.

About a week after their first lesson, Tav had an idea, one they spent an entire evening bringing into fruition, hands shaking with nerves as they worked at Dammon’s tiny kitchen table. They were just placing the finishing touches when he came in from the forge, brow sheened with the sweat of a day’s labor.

“How’s the writing going?” he asked, now well-used to her daily routine of script practice.

Tav swallowed down her nerves, then rose quickly from her chair, thrusting the sheet of parchment out towards him. “See for yourself.”

Dammon gave her a curious look, then crossed the room to read what she’d written. It wasn’t unusual for her to ask that he check her work, but he must have noticed how nervous she was.

He read for what felt like a long time, parchment crinkling where his fingers gripped the edge. At first, Tav thought their penmanship might just be messy, or that the letters were too smudged to read from her erasing her work too many times. But apparently, that wasn’t the problem at all.

“Is it…supposed to say something?” Dammon asked.

Tav shifted uncomfortably. “Um…yeah. Did I make a mistake?”

“You must have. I mean, this is gibberish. Unless this is another language. ‘Ilpvey’…”

Tav snatched the paper from his hand. “What? No, that’s not right at all! This is supposed to be an ‘O.’ Wait a second, I’ll fix it.” She hurried back to the table, crossing out the wrong letters and re-writing them. “Gods, I was only a line off,” she muttered to herself before shoving the note back into Dammon’s hands, praying he wouldn’t notice the hot flush rising up her neck. “Here, now read it.”

Dammon gave her a questioning look, then peered down at the corrected note. At first, his expression remained one of confusion. Then, something appeared to click, and a sweet smile pressed its way into the corner of his mouth. Still, he didn’t say anything, merely stared down at the message without a word, which only made Tav more nervous.

“Umm, does it make sense now? If not, I can try again…”

No response. He was still looking down at the note.

“Dammon?”

Finally, he looked up, eyes shining electric blue in the dark. For a moment, he merely stared at her with a strange expression, as if he were trying to determine whether she was real. Then, just as Tav was considering fleeing the room in shame, she was being pulled against him, note still clutched in his hand as his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

“It does make sense, sweetheart,” he hummed against her neck. “I love you too.”

Tav smiled against his shirt, eyes falling shut with relief. It was the first time either of them had said it.

***

In the eventful days that followed, Tav forgot about the note entirely. After tax season came final preparations to take on the Elder Brain. Then, the battle itself was followed by a period of necessary healing, in which Tav spent weeks in bedrest. All the while, Dammon remained at her side, both of them grateful that the other had made it out of the entire ordeal alive.  

She hadn’t even known Dammon bothered to keep the note until many years later, when she came across it by chance while flipping through some old books of theirs. At first, she was confused as to why he’d folded the note inside a copy of an erotic play—The Pleasurable Deal. It wasn’t until she read the opening lines that any of it made any sense to her.

For now the game did start. He’d said that, she recalled, that first time they’d met at the Carress. At the time, she hadn’t known what he was talking about. But now, it made sense, perhaps more than he could possibly have realized at the time. Just like the protagonist, they’d both gotten far more than they’d bargained for with that deal.

She smiled as she read the words she’d written so long ago—I love you.

If that first night was how the game started, then this was how it ended.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 1: Steer

Content Warning: Fantasy Racism, mentions of vomit, Endwalker Spoilers

There were many good things about Esredes choosing to have joined the Contingency and push himself north to Ilsabard. He saved people, he got to join a new organization, he saw more of the world- even if it was a hellscape- and most of all, he made new friends.

Making new friends was usually a good thing, but they could be very... eccentric, sometimes. Perhaps Esredes should have known better himself when he took the Pureblood former chief medicus of a legion he met in the Contingency to an Ala Mhigan and Radz-at-han fusion cuisine restaurant and insisted everyone try the spicy curry challenge. The discussion had been on Chocobos, and then it had quickly devolved.

"They are scary creatures," Andromeda, the defector medicus, had remarked about them. "I can't imagine what kind of strong will you must have to tame one... I think I'll stick to my car." Esredes tensed up at the mention of a car. "Speak for yourself." He said, quickly. "I'm not going near those evil devices." "Oh! You still have yours?" Ryousei, the half-Garlean, said to that. "I lost mine back home..." "I do! Well, scraps of it... it was pink! I named her Ladybug!" "Id love to take a look at it some time... i-if you don't mind. I used to work on mine with my... dad." His expression deflated. "What's a car?" Added Fiachna, one of the newer members of the network. "An unsafe metallic abomination." Esredes explained. He knew. Oh, did he know about cars, enough to say he never wanted to be near one ever again.

It was another cold night in Garlemald with the light of the full moon, and he had a mission. A mission to deal with a stray roader attacking carriages between camp and Tertium over the past several nights. That by itself made sense to him- destroy the moving target. He had some means of doing that with assistance, so it should be entirely doable. And then the rescued Garlean in charge who was all too trigger happy told them *how* they would lure it out.

With cars, as they called them. Several of them had been prepared for the task. Esredes stood by the lineup of them and just stared the metal carriages down. He'd seen so many destroyed ones among the wreckage that he didn't register there was a functional version in any form. And there was no Chocobo, but it wasn't an airship or manacutter, so how would it move without the air? He didn't know, and he wasn't exactly eager to find out. Knowing Garleans, it had a self-destruct mechanism for no reason just to kill more people upon destruction. What was a Garlean if not to kill everyone without a pearl on their forehead? Needless to say, Esredes was very reluctant to step into the passenger seat after fumbling to figure out how to get inside, but the task asked him to, so he reluctantly did. And it wouldn't be long before he regretted that choice.

Fast. Too fast. Whatever this thing was, it was entirely too fast, and he was used to flying. But something on the ground should never be able to pick up the speeds the thing accelerated to almost immediately. Esredes was all at once hopeless and helplessly trapped inside the vehicle, as trying to get out would most certainly kill him, but he could do nothing to slow it down as it drove across snow. Even worse, when they did find the target, the roader was covered in armor and opened fire on them with several guns, causing Esredes to yelp and duck down in the abomination to avoid being killed on impact then and there, only managing to raise up the metal on his gauntlet up to protect the driver from the bullets. To deal with the open fire, the car spun for a long moment to evade it. Esredes' urge to throw up increased as he gripped onto the seat for dear life. Another member of the party, the insane lunatic, thought it would be a great idea to jump onto the roader and take care of it that way. He was proven very wrong when the thing threw him right towards Esredes, the impact slamming his head into the back of the seat. The world quickly faded to static and limited sensations as he slid down and didn't get back up, not until the throbbing in his head began to alleviate enough for him to try and scramble up in the seat. For a small mercy, he managed to avoid emptying everything he had that day into the snow. But the moment the car stopped, he fumbled with the latch in a desperate escape to get out, and stumbled and half-tripped onto the pavement. He managed to pull himself back up into a stumble across camp until he could throw himself into bed and try not to focus on how much his head hurt.

"I see." Fiachna said to his comment in the present. "I'll avoid it, then." Andromeda, unfortunately, did not take the hint. "Cars are great! I have to take you for a drive, Ser Esredes!" "No," he said harshly, immediately. "Not. Ever. Throwing up once was more than enough." "What?" Ryousei said. "Aw cmon, car rides are a great way to relax honestly..." "It can play music and go REALLY fast!" She went on. "Ladybug had a V8 engine! She could really burn Ceruleum!!" "It can play music? Can I race a car?" Asked Fiachna. "I want to race a car. I can go faster."

Esredes sighed and kept eating the kibbeh appetizer they'd ordered. And yet, they kept going. "I loved racing!" Andromeda declared. "Oo, and obstacle courses! Spinouts... All sorts of things!" Ryousei chuckled. "Go figure, of course you're a speed demon, doc." "Did you know cars can go so fast the tires burn out??" "We should race." Fiachna declared. "Of course!!" Andromeda said. "Nothing better than pushing magitek to the BRINK! Once, I almost crashed into the side of a mountain!"

Esredes couldn't believe what anyone was saying right now. Garleans were truly insane, even the reasonable ones like her. Why were they like this. Why were they so wired to destroy themselves and others with their horrible contraptions. Between the creepy sounds playing from those devices that protected people from tempering, these things, and their traffic control having guns, Esredes was convinced good Magitek could only come from Ishgard itself. Not from the ones who wanted to destroy everything with it constantly.

Fiachna went on about wanting to race a car, until everyone's spicy curry they ordered for the spice challenge arrived. This relief gave Esredes the excuse he needed to hold a hand up. "All right. Enough car talk. I propose a countdown." It was time for everyone to die. When he hit zero, everyone took the first bite of the unreasonably spicy curry. Only Esredes and one other made it past the second round, only to meet their match. It didn't take long for both Andromeda and Ryousei to be freaking out about the heat. Andromeda grabbed Ryousei and declared, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear,

"We are GARLEAN. WE WILL NOT SUCCUMB."

And that is how Esredes felt a big wave of secondhand embarrassment in the middle of the Ala Mhigan Thavnairian fusion cuisine restaurant for who he came along with. This is what you wanted, he reminded himself. For Garleans to be refugees in Eorzea and learn to be human by exposure and monitoring. So in the middle of the Ala Mhigan Thavnairian fusion cuisine restaurant, Esredes leaned back and sighed to himself. It would continue to be an ongoing process, to try and fix a defective peoples. But if he didn't try, what kind of follower of Shiva- and friend besides- was he?

So Esredes continued to listen and watch their theatrics in the restaurant, but when the embarrassment finally faded, he smiled a little. As per usual, these were his works in progress. And it was his duty not just to watch them improve, but to have some fun in the process.