#i'm pulling this shit out of my arse

[absolutebl]

Hi!

"2 Moons The Ambassador" is airing currently, and there are very few takers of the show. Also, it isn't available outside of Thailand, because it seems like "Motive Village" was scared of the backlash from the international audience, so went ahead with the project anyways, but decided to release it only for domestic audience. It looks like since they have the rights for the franchise, they wanted to mint money out if it, as much as possible, and as long as they possible can, given that this one is the last instalment of the story. Screenplay, Casting, Acting, and Direction seems to taken a backseat completely. I have huge respect for the boys involved in the project, it's just that I'm intrigued with the level of competition in the BL business that's forcing young talents to work with unprofessional production companies.

When I asked about audiences opinion on Reddit, someone pointed out that there is a possibility that sometimes certain films/series are rolled out as it could be a case of money laundering. Not sure how to react to it, many just concurred with that thought especially when if the production company happens to be shady. And this is a case in point with any show business around the world, just that its often talked in hushed whispers, unless the paparazzi uncovers the truth on the tabloids.

In one of our previous discussions, you did mention not being a fan of "2 Moons" and not having any expectations from "2 Moons The Ambassador" either. But my question isn't about the "2 Moons" franchise per se, but more so about understanding the eco-system of BL business.

So,...my questions to you are:

How far are BL filmmakers wanting to go mainstream, aware of the fact that the they have an increasingly “Attention Deficit” audience watching their content? (Which means,…what worked earlier may not work today, and that the audience may either get bored, or rebel over a particular trope being repeated without logic.)

How far is the BL industry good at marketing their series, especially if it comes from a fairly new production company? Are the producers doing enough, or are they content with the domestic market, keeping the international audience as an option anyway? 

For a BL producer, which market is more important, the domestic market (like airing the series on a local channel), or the international market (like selling the rights to an OTT platform to be streamed), or BOTH?

Are there BL Filmmakers who don’t wish to grab the attention of the International audience, and are quite happy selling their content to be streamed only and only on domestic platforms? Is there a specific strategy to this to avoid any kind of criticism, given that global audience are known to be pretty opinionated and vocal?

Barring a few sensible BL dramas, has visuals and soft-core scenes become the primary motive to make a BL series, and that story and other technical aspects like screenplay, cinematography, dialogue, and direction completely lost its relevance in the BL industry in the mad race to claim the numero uno spot on social media?

xoxo

Arjuna

Again, sorry for taking so long to answer these. Crazy busy these days. This is gonna be one of those ones where I’m not sure I can answer your questions, since I've never actually worked in the film industry in Thailand at all. Or had anything to do with it quite frankly. It's certainly not an interest tree large enough to have hired anybody like me ever.

1. How far are BL filmmakers wanting to go mainstream, aware of the fact that the they have an increasingly “Attention Deficit” audience watching their content? (Which means,…what worked earlier may not work today, and that the audience may either get bored, or rebel over a particular trope being repeated without logic.)

I think this is more a history of market trends. We see this all the time with everything. It's not quite the same thing but take for example the Roomba. When a product like this first enters the market there's usually only one or two versions to choose from, they're usually very expensive, and difficult to get a hold of. Then as distribution gets better, the technology becomes less proprietary, and more people have access and interested in making/owning such things, more and more versions hit the market, the price gets driven down to as low as it can possibly go. And you end up with a lot of trashy products and poor imitations. Eventually, everybody who wants one, and can afford one will own one. The manufacturing (production) companies that can't become profitable will go bankrupt, or start making something else. 

The trend dies down in the market shrinks. 

Or, more commonly in the entertainment (and Fashion) industry a new fad will come along. 

2. How far is the BL industry good at marketing their series, especially if it comes from a fairly new production company? Are the producers doing enough, or are they content with the domestic market, keeping the international audience as an option anyway? 

I actually expect that the trend for BL will die back down before Thailand (in particular) actually gets good at marketing to an international audience. 

3. For a BL producer, which market is more important, the domestic market (like airing the series on a local channel), or the international market (like selling the rights to an OTT platform to be streamed), or BOTH?

From what I can tell, domestic seems to be the priority for most of the smaller pulp Thai production houses. Or lack of marketing entirely. (Let's be clear if the production house is on YouTube they're actually concerned with sales - sales and marketing are two different things.) I just don't think any of the houses even have advertising departments attached to them. 

It's pretty clear that whoever was behind KinnPorsche, and GMMTV, are pretty focused on the international market. Where as these days Wabi Sabi (in bed with iQIYI) and some of the middle range houses, are interested in targeting streaming services. Which means they're tailoring their contact to a very specific corner of the international market, which is based on the viewer numbers (& country of origin) for those services. 

I don't know how intentional they're being about this, but they have to have this end goal of distribution in mind. 

And I would bet my bottom dollar that Korean BL production houses have nothing but the international market and streaming platforms in mind. 

4. Are there BL Filmmakers who don’t wish to grab the attention of the International audience, and are quite happy selling their content to be streamed only and only on domestic platforms? Is there a specific strategy to this to avoid any kind of criticism, given that global audience are known to be pretty opinionated and vocal?

Maybe? Possibly some of the more Indy and now defunct houses like the one behind ITSAY? I don't think they particularly care what the audiences say or how those audiences behave online, so long as they are watching and talking about the show. Whether that's negative or positive. The numbers don't lie.

Let’s take LITA as a case in point. A highly derisive piece of BL cinema. But I would swear on whatever you want me to swear on that Mame is going to get the funding for another one. Because the point is: we talked about it, and blogged about it and shared gifs. Whether engagement is negative or positive is irrelevant to the fact that, from sheer numbers of eyeballs watching, the show can be considered successful by Thai BL standards.

It would be a pretty poor business plan from anybody in a film industry as small as Thailand’s not to take the international audience into consideration, or at least want to produce content that could be repackaged and exported. 

5.  Barring a few sensible BL dramas, has visuals and soft-core scenes become the primary motive to make a BL series, and that story and other technical aspects like screenplay, cinematography, dialogue, and direction completely lost its relevance in the BL industry in the mad race to claim the numero uno spot on social media?

I actually ran the stats on this. And percentage wise to the amount of BL that is currently being produced, we have the same amount of high heat (11%) as we did last year and that’s less than in previous years. 

In other words, we're seeing more round numbers of high heat content, because there is more BL being made in general. 

I would also argue that it's not necessarily talked about more than some of the other BL either. Remember the waves that Bad Buddy caused at the beginning of this year? Or The Eclipse? Those are very low heat BL. 

Given the way these things work: we are going to continue to see the same percentage of very high-quality content with good production values (which has been, and always will be, small - and I suspect will be mostly dominated by Korea & Japan), the same percentage of pulps, and the same percentage of low heat. 

We are just getting more of everything right now. We're at the top of the trend. I'm not sure if it has peaked, exponential growth is incredibly hard to predict (especially in the entertainment industry). We will know at the end of next year - if the numbers go back down. (I think they might, but I have been very wrong before.) 

[imyourbratzdoll]

hiii baby 🤍

weird request maybe…

But reader being tired of dating but really wanting a baby…like she just really doesn’t want to wait for the perfect man to settle down with, but she really really really wants a baby.

So she asks childhood!bestfriend!bucky or like childhood!bestfriend!CE!Character to impregnate her…

He (being secretly in love with her) agrees, so they make one 😩

hi honey! not weird at all! I loved this, I'm hoping I did it justice and that you love it!

summary - you've decided to stop going on dates when the last one fails and go to your best friend for the thing you desperately want.

warning - smut, breeding kink, unrequited love (or not), horrible dates, creampie, swearing, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You sigh, having just come back from yet another failed date. No man seemed to live up to the expectation you were looking for. You sagged into the couch, kicking your shoes off and beginning to massage your temples. “Ugh, I’ll never find the perfect man to settle down with…” You look down at your stomach, and your mind fills with images of you being pregnant. Your eyes blink it away as you rub your belly. “I just want a baby… Is that so hard?” 

Your eyes widen when you realise you have the perfect plan. Bucky! He’s your best friend, an ideal option for a sperm donor. You quickly dig through your purse and pull out your phone, unlocking it and quickly sending him a message. 

‘Hey, are you able to come over? I have something important to ask you.’ You send the text, gnawing on your bottom lip as you wait for his response, watching the three little dots appear. 

‘Sure, I’ll be there in 10 minutes with your favourite snacks.’ 

You smile, quickly jumping up and running to your room. You strip from the clothes you sadly wasted on your date and changed into a red lingerie set that Bucky got you for your birthday. You smirked when you remembered how flushed Bucky looked as you opened the gift bag and promised to show him one day. You walk over to the mirror and fix your make-up, reapplying your red gloss. 

When you hear the door unlock, you quickly throw on your silk robe and head out of your room, ready to greet Bucky. He enters and smiles when he sees you waiting there for him. His heart practically pounds out of his chest as you smile back at him, walking over and wrapping your arms around his body. “Hey, I got us some Chinese.” He wraps one arm around you, tightly holding the bag of food with the other. 

“You came so fast!” Your cheeks heat up at the innuendo of your words. You don’t notice the pout on his lips as you pull away from him and begin to walk toward the lounge room. “C’mon, I’d feel better asking you the thing while sitting down… I don’t really know how you’ll feel about it.” Your chew on your bottom lip, your nerves getting to you as you realise if he says no, you’ll possibly be ruining a good friendship.

Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, practically feeling your nerves radiating off of you. His eyes shamefully land on your arse, watching your hips sway as you walk before him. “So, uh… How did your date go?” This would be the tenth date this week that you’ve been on, and as your best friend, Bucky knows all about them and how lately they haven’t been going well. Except for his heart that constantly broke every time you told him you had a date with everyone but him. Bucky sits beside you, pulling out the hot food and handing you your usual. 

“Shit like the others.” You immediately begin to stuff your face with food, starving from storming off during the date. “From the moment we met, all he spoke about was himself and the women he’s been with. Then when we sat down to eat, he ordered for me, but when I stood up for myself and ordered what I wanted. He decided to call me a cow and fat and that no man would ever love me if I didn’t let them take control of my life.” You growl, shovelling more food in your mouth. You swallow and look at Bucky, noticing the angry look behind his eyes but deciding to ignore that. “But, I came to a conclusion. You know how much I’ve been wanting a baby and have been trying to find the perfect man to settle down with.”

Bucky nods before frowning. “Please don’t tell me you're going to just sleep with one of these guys to get one.” His brows furrow. “You deserve more than that. You deserve someone that will be there for you and the baby.”

You wave him off, sucking some juice off your thumb. “Of course not. I had someone better in mind.” Your eyes connect with him, and Bucky’s brows raise when he puts the pieces together. “I want you to impregnate me, Bucky.”

“Y–you–” He swallows, blinking rapidly, wondering if he heard you right.

“I want you, Bucky. Just imagine how cute our baby would be, but I understand if you say no and no longer want to be–”

“Yes.”

“B–”

“Yes.” Bucky immediately scoots closer and cups your cheeks. “I’ll pump you full until you are carrying my child.” You feel slick gather between your thighs, turned on by his words. Bucky’s hands move down and undo your robe, choking on his saliva when his eyes land on the red lingerie set he had bought you. “You’re so beautiful…” He whispers, staring for a while before looking into your eyes. “D–do you want to go slow or…” Bucky swallows, knowing that you weren’t doing this because you felt anything for him. You were doing this to get a baby.

“Fast, for now, I just need you.” You whimper. You grasp the back of Bucky’s head and pull him toward you, devouring his lips with yours. “Please, fuck a baby into me.”

Bucky catches the for-now part, causing his heart to jump, knowing there might be another time. His breath catches as your lips connect, swearing that fireworks went off. His hand lands between your legs and begins to rub you through your knickers, letting out a moan as he feels how wet you are. “D–did you touch yourself before I got here?” 

You shake your head, “No, no….” You whine, back arching and legs spreading more as he touches you. Bucky feels his cock harden more when he realises he made you wet. “Bucky, please.” You blink the tears away, so overwhelmed with your feelings for your best friend and your horniness. You hadn’t been touched in so long, and to have Bucky finally touch you with the promise of putting a baby in you intensifies it.

Bucky leans back, giving you a look. “Are you sure about this? Because once I start, I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” You nod rapidly, gripping any part of him that you can. He places a hand under your chin. “I need words, Y/n.” 

“Yes, Bucky. I’m sure I want this.” You watch him remove your clothes, followed by his, and you gasp as your eyes land on his member. “You’re so big…” Bucky strokes his cock, lining it with your sopping cunt. As he pushes in, Bucky leans forward and connects his lips with yours, swallowing your moans. “O–oh…” 

His hands move down and grip your hips, thrusting deep, fast and hard into your tight walls. “Fuck, you feel so good, doll.” Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits deep inside you, hitting places you’ve never reached before. “I can’t wait to pump you full of my cum, doll. Breed you.” He growls, getting lost in the feel of you. 

You moan, gripping onto your best friend, feeling him split you open, bringing you pleasure you’ve never felt before. You can’t wait until he fills you with his cum, giving you what you’ve always wanted. “Faster, Bucky, please.” You don’t know how he’s done it, but you're so close you can feel your orgasm just around the corner. 

Bucky’s hips begin to snap, slamming into you hard and fast. “Shit, doll. I’m so close.” His hand slides between your bodies, locating your clit and rubbing it. Your back arches, legs squeezing tighter around him as your juices squirt out of you, your walls pulsating around his thick cock. Bucky groans, burying his face into your neck, pounding into you before burying himself deep inside you. Thick spurts of cum shoot out of his mushroom tip as he pumps you full of his cream. “Fuck, fuck! There’s so much. It feels too good, doll!”

You sag into the couch, pulling Bucky along with you, enjoying the feeling of his softening cock inside of you. He stares at you, stroking your cheek, and you smile tiredly up at him. “Thank you, Bucky. I hope this takes, if not. We will have just to keep trying.”

Bucky smiles, “I’d be happy with that.” He leans forward and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[captainfern]

Fernieeeee... I miss dbf!price fucking the holy shit out of us, can't you bring him back to us? Pleasepleasepleaseeerere I'm on MY KNEES I SWEARRRRR

sigh… if you insist 😒 (i wanted to write this because i luv dbf!price)

dbf!price looks like this don’t argue with me

18+ (piv, oral, overall slutivities), fem!reader

dad’s best friend price who…

likes to lounge on his couch with you spread across his lap, thighs either side of his. his hands run up and down the length of your upper legs and hips, revelling in the softness of your body against his. he pushes and pulls at you gently, grinding your clothed cunt against the seam of his jeans, watching as your mouth parts and pretty little whimpers fall from it

enjoys feeding his thick cock into your mouth, inch by inch, watching your beautiful eyes flutter when the leaking tip of him knocks up against the back of your throat, threatening a gag from you. he coos at you quietly, placing a large hand atop your head and petting you, soothing you with bits of whispered praise

has made a habit of sticking a couple of fingers into your mouth and letting you suck whilst the two of you relax on the couch, or cuddled up in bed. thick digits press down flat on your tongue, drawing saliva to the forefront of your mouth, pooling and eventually dripping out and around his fingers

is obsessed with eating you out and will put you in any position to do so. he settles you on his face as he lays out across your bed, his big hands kneading the fat of your arse while you rock against him. his moustache and nose send you over the edge, but he doesn’t stop until all he can taste and smell is your pretty, wet pussy

loves to bend you over and rut into you like a man starved. maybe the arm of the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the bathroom sink, or the edge of the bed, or even the hood of his car. he bends you over so lovingly, kissing your spine with fingers dipping into your underwear. his thrusts are brutal, though, and knock the wind out of you, the angle drawing obscene noises from your cunt. you come three times before price glues the front of his body to the back of yours and comes inside of you

tips you on your side in the early hours of the morning, the both of you lax with sleep, and slips his achingly hard cock into the tight warmth of your cunt. rocks against you lazily, barely moving, yet his cock somehow hits the best spot inside you, and you’re coming with his face buried into the crook of your neck and his broad chest pressed to your back

bends you with unsurprising strength, tucks your legs as close to your ears as possible and drills into you with deep, guttural grunts. he gets this haze in his eyes when he fucks you like this, the desire to breed you potent in his blood, his hips slamming into yours roughly. will often come before you, filling the clutch of your cunt with his seed. he’ll play with your puffy clit until you come around his softening cock

gets you to ride him while he finishes his cigar, propped up by pillows so he can watch as you bounce up and down, your tits and tummy rippling with the effort. he doesn’t blow the smoke into your face unless you ask him, or will lean forward with a mouth full of smoke and kiss you, then pushing the smoke into your eager mouth

talks about making you his, whether it be marriage or putting a maybe into you, while balls deep inside. he runs tight circles on your swollen clit, his cock jutting up against the base of your cervix, his eyes on you the entire time he whispers about making you truly his

calls you his good girl, his pretty girl, sweetheart, pet. depending on the circumstances, and the mood, his praise will be laced with the endearing nicknames, which contribute to you coming quicker around the thick girth of his cock

makes a habit of sneaking into your room when he visits, and fucks you in the middle of the night, a hand over your mouth and his clothes still on. his cock hangs from his trousers before he’s moving into you, fucking you deep into the mattress and uttering things about keeping quiet and being a good girl for him

sabotages any possibly romantic or sexual interactions with guys your age, putting himself between you and a pursuer, or slipping an arm around your waist, or placing a hand on your arse. he’s protective and possessive

takes photos of you in various states and jerks off to them when away from you. he hasn’t felt like this since he was young, but he loves nothing more than to pull up a sexy photo of you and come loudly in the dark, quietness of his bedroom

fucks the attitude out of you, rendering you a blabbering mess that could no longer attempt to throw snide remarks at him. he will toss you over his knee and spank you if he has too, but usually he’s able to salve your qualms or anger with a couple of orgasms around his cock

dbf!price who never saw the appeal of being involved with a younger woman until you came along, and you make him feel so much younger again <3

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 11: Gaz’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Gaz x Reader, jealous Gaz, the tiniest bit of toxic Gaz, degradation, spanking, rough sex.

A ruckus at the door brings you out of the book you were reading, a mischievous laugh on the other side of the door and when it finally opens you can't help but mimic Gaz's wide smile as he runs to you. He holds your face kissing you before asking: “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow?”

There is an urge to the way he asks, making you want to say no just to tease him; but it's been days since you left the house so you quickly nod. He kisses you again, pulling the book off your hands and laying it down on the table (open, so you don't lose the page).

He softly pushes you back with the kiss, making you lie down on the sofa with him on top of you. You still wonder why he was in such a rush, and it gets answered when Soap enters the house panting and calling your name. 

“I'm here, Johnny.” You say, waving your hand so he can see you from the door. His face lights up for the second it takes him to see Gaz is already lying on top of you, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin. 

“Too slow, Johnny.” Gaz teases. “My date and I are already set.”

“Oh, away n' bile yer heid!” The scotsman complains, but still lays down on top of the two of you making you groan. You can tell Gaz is using his strength to take some of Soap's weight off of you, because you know damn well that if you had to lie under the two brick houses you would pop a lung. 

You chuckle at Soap's dramatism, looking at Gaz. “What are you not telling me, you little shit?” He looks at you with a boyish smile on his face, mischief clear on his eyes, not even bothering to play it as innocent. 

“There is this military gala that Price is making all of us attend.” He explains. “And now you are attending too.”

“Wait.” You say, reality is settling in. You slip from under him, sitting up and Gaz pushes Soap off of him making him fall on the floor; both of them sitting up on their new locations. “A military gala? Like… meeting your bosses and all of that? And like… what I'm supposed to do there? I don't-”

“Well technically…” Gaz cuts you off. “Price is our boss. And those that are over him usually leave really early, we go mostly to see old colleagues and get drunk. And you are attending… as my girl.”

“Our girl.” Soap quickly chimes in, correcting Gaz.

“Uh uhh” Gaz answers, shaking his finger. “My date, my girl. You already got yours.”

Gaz pulls you, sitting you on his lap as a petulant child who has been asked to share a toy. 

“Oi, Garrick, don't make me beat yer arse.” Soap argues, but quiets down when you move his head to rest on your lap.

“But then… you are introducing me to your… friends?” You ask, anxiousness setting on your stomach. “Are you sure about it?”

Gaz furrows his eyebrow at your question. “Are you asking if I'm sure about letting my friends know about you?”

You look from Gaz to Soap, both with the same confused expression. “Bonnie, if I could I'll keep ye in my pocket just so I could show ye to every single person I come across.”

“Exactly, like…” Gaz looks at you confused. “I think you keep forgetting that we are obsessed with you, birdie.” He chuckles.

He hugs you, kissing your cheekbone. “I want to introduce you to everyone I know, birdie. You are somebody to drag about.”

His words help to ease the thoughts inside your brain, finally letting your anxiety travel to other important matters.

You gasp. “The dress John bought me is still at base…”

“Ye aren't wearing the same dress again.” Soap chimes in. “Ghost and Price are buying ye another one.”

“They are shopping together?” You ask, confused.

“Laswell is probably with them too, so don't worry, I'll be pretty.” Gaz explains, as if you know who the fuck Laswell is. 

It is already nighttime when you leave the house, hand on hand with Gaz. Feeling the prettiest girl at the world with the constant compliments for the four men. 

Once inside the venue, Gaz’s hand doesn't lift from your back. Always guiding you, introducing you to people and pulling you away from others that, according to him: “is not worth even knowing their names.”

Making sure to enunciate the “She's my partner” to anyone who asks, it was spoken before, that this was not the place to explain to everyone how the poly relationship worked to the old military men who were struggling to look up to your face and not stare at your chest. 

It doesn't make the other three men complain any less, Price going “Garrick” whenever the sergeant becomes a little too enthusiastic about you and him. There are a couple of people that Ghost tells you, know about their arrangements. Not the tiny details, but enough to know that there is something between the four of them and that if you are involved with Gaz, you are involved with the rest.

One of those people, is Alex Keller. Whom Gaz is really excited to introduce you to, and who ends up sitting at the same table as you. 

It is a round table, wide enough not to be able to reach Ghost's feet that is sitting right in front of you as you sit between Soap and Gaz. Gaz is also sitting next to Alex, and as the night goes on he slowly turns more and more towards him, giving you his back. 

You turn to Soap, pout on your face. “I think my date is on a date with somebody else.” You know it is unfair, they haven't seen each other in years and are just catching up; still, you are glad Soap is next to you or else you'll feel quite alone. 

“Ye can always make out with me.” Soap proposes, making you chuckle. “But I think I have an even better idea.”

Now, you know both sergeants are little mischievous shits; but the smile on Soap's face still makes you rethink on how much trouble you are going to get yourself into.

“Have any of us told ye that Gaz is a really jealous man?” Soap asks, leaning into your chair and resting his arm on the backrest of it. “Like, really jealous.”

“Gaz?” You ask, quite shocked that the so-sure-of-himself man is the jealous man out of the four. 

Soap nods, smiling still. “When we started, Gaz and I were the ones that mixed the pairs, to say it simply. And Gaz knew Ghost and I were already messing with each other, still, at the beginning whenever I'd kiss Ghost, Gaz would turn his head. I promised ye, if I hadn't seen him suck my dick I'd guess he was homophobic.”

His choice of words as you cover your mouth so Gaz can't hear you laugh, leaning more onto Soap's side. “That's why he pulled me away from you on the sofa?” You ask and Soap quickly nods, a smile on his face. 

“Especially ye, since you are the last addition. The three of us have been reassuring him that we love him to bits for years now, but ye still have a long road to go, bonnie.” He says, starting to look around looking for somebody. “And I think I have an idea of how to show ye.” 

He waves at somebody behind you after a second, urging them to come closer. You look behind, seeing a tan man approach with a smirk on his face. 

“Soap, hermano, long time no see” He says, clapping hands with Soap. “What have you been up to?”

“Alejandro, let me introduce ye to Birdie.” He says, before saying your actual name and repeating Alejandro's name to you. He shakes your hand, making you smile at the formalities and he winks at you, satisfied with making you smile. “And actually, I think she can use some of yer help.” He signals the man to bend down to whisper to him. “How do ye feel about messing with Gaz a bit?”

“Let me guess, if I say yes I get to flirt with the pretty lady?” He asks, whispering as well and laughing when Soap nods. “A huevo, hermano. I'm in.”

He pulls an empty chair from a close by table, Soap pulls your chair and Alejandro sits between you and Gaz. Who has yet to notice the treachery taking place behind him. 

It is easy to forget that you are doing this to get a raise out of Gaz, especially with how funny the conversation gets between Alejandro and Soap. Telling you about Soap's absolute lack of ability to learn Spanish, and how it almost got him into problems when he accidentally asked for a male prostitute instead of a cigar, when he kept getting the words puro and puto mixed up. 

You are laughing out loud, almost crying for it, not just you, the three of you. Alejandro is rocking back and forth on his chair, and his hand lands on your thigh, innocent enough that it doesn't even make you uncomfortable. But not innocent enough for Gaz, who has been side-eyeing the three of you for a bit now, Alex chuckling when he noticed he had stopped listening to him. 

The moment Alejandro's hand lands on you, he springs into action, standing up and walking behind you. “Birdie. Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”

You stand up, knees weak at the look on Gaz's face. He easily pulls your chair back so you can walk. He grabs your hand once you take the first step and pulls you towards the bathroom stalls. You look back to Soap, and see him, Alejandro and Alex who have just taken your place smiling at you with a thumbs up. 

He pushes you inside the stall, locking the door behind you and then presses you against the wall, his hips pressed plush against yours. His hand grabs your jaw, making you look at him to his face. “What the fuck do you think you were doing, birdie?”

“What?” You ask, playing dumb.

“What?” He asks back, high pitched voice mimicking yours, his other hand raising to pinch your nipple through the thin fabric of the dress making you hiss. “Do you think I'm blind? Deaf? Or just plain old stupid? Hm?”

“I don't know what- AH!” He pinches hard, making you whine, cutting you off.

“Don't lie to me, birdie.” He says, face getting close to yours where you can feel his breath on yours. “Has Alejandro left you stupid or something?”

“You were ignoring me!” You complain, trying to act tough as if his degrading tone wasn't making you grow wet by the minute. 

“Oh! So that's it!” He asks, dry laughing. “I speak with a person for one minute!” He says, raising a finger to accentuate his words. “And you are already looking for another dick to choke on, right?”

“That's not true!” You argue, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Then show me, birdie. Show me mine is the only dick you want to choke on.” He says, rubbing his crotch against your abdomen. 

The moment he pulls back, you drop to your knees helping him get his belt undone. He lowers his briefs, shaft springing free and pulsing right in front of your face. He is already hard and it makes you wonder whether he was already when he stood up from the table. 

He grabs your wrist, and when his tip is inside your warm mouth he thrusts forward hitting the back of your throat hard making you gag but pulling your hands behind his back to prevent you from moving back. 

It’s ironic how similar it is to the first night you met him, when Price cuffed you around his waist. 

He thrust forward hard, your eyes watering as you fight your gag reflex. You wonder for a second if he is actually getting any kind of pleasure other than the feeling of humiliation you. 

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, pushing you closer until your nose reaches his happy trail. You look up to him, vision blurry with tears. 

He groans, pulling your hair to push you back and then up to have you standing. He turns you around, pushing your head against the wall. “I guess I have no other option but to fuck your ungrateful pussy, hm? Fuck you stupid so you can stop whoring yourself to every man? How many more dicks do you need, birdie? How much of a slut are you that four dicks the size of your bloody forearms are not enough?”

It shouldn't be turning you on as it is, every single feminist cell on your body getting ignored by all your blood flowing to your cunt pulsing with anticipation. 

He pulls your dress up, pushing your panties to the side before probing your entrance with his tip. He knows it's gonna sting, but in his jealousy-driven mind, that's what he wants. For your body to remember him tomorrow. 

He pushes forward, slowly, covering your mouth when you cry at the sting; waiting stills once he bottoms out to let go of your mouth. 

He grabs both your wrists on his hand behind your back, still keeping your head pushed against the wall. There is a loud sound of his hips slapping against yours, accompanied by the moans and pants of both of you. 

You could as well have the door open with the way you are fucking, everyone that walks by would know perfectly fine what's going on. 

He bends forward, close to your face, talking to you through gritted teeth. “This is what you wanted, right? To get fucked like a whore? While everyone outside knows that you are getting fuck? Filthy, filthy slut.” 

He moves back, letting go of your head only to slap your ass hard enough to leave an imprint. It makes you jump, making him grunt when you clench around him. 

“Fucking. Take it. Whore.” He says, snapping his hips at every word, knocking the breath out of you. His heavy balls keep slapping against your clit, sending shockwaves up your column making your toes curl. 

He slaps your ass again, hard, always on the same spot. And he doesn't relent until he starts to see the little purple dots of a bruise forming on your asscheek. It has tears threatening to fall from your eyes, still pulsing around him so close for release. 

“I bet you are scared I'm gonna leave you hanging, right, whore?” He asks, reading your mind. The thought of the man finishing before you and leaving you wanting your release was on your mind since he made you stand from the table. “You don't even care about anything else, do you? As long as you get to cum, you don't care that I talk to you like you are trash, do you? Such a fucking whore, only thinking with your cunt.”

He chuckles behind you, not sparing you a second to breathe as your orgasm comes closer and closer. “Then cum, you fucking whore. I don't have all night.” 

And you do, whaling his name as your whole body shakes when the orgasm rains over you. Your head hits the tiling with a loud TONK as you do, making Gaz laugh meanly behind you at your lack of control. 

He lets go of your hands, letting you support yourself on your hands instead of your face. He holds your hips instead, thrusting in and out fast and shallow, going after his own release. 

You clench around him, the overstimulation getting to you and that is enough for Gaz to spill thick ropes of his spent inside of you. Pulling out to see it spill out, just for him to shove his dick back inside making you moan when fucks his cum back inside of you. 

“Kyle!” You whine, needing a moment to breathe. He chuckles behind you, getting his dick out and moving to grab toilet paper to dry himself off you. You look under you, between your legs seeing the thin strip of his seed spilling out of you onto the floor. 

“Aw, birdie, you're letting it go to waste.” He comments behind you, while he puts his pants back up. 

You give him a look making him chuckle and you stand up, leaning back on the sink with wobbly legs. He walks between them, pushes one of your legs apart with his and gets two of his fingers back inside of your saturated cunt. 

You groan, slapping his arm. “I'm just making sure that you can feel my cum slipping out of you for the rest of the night so you can stop acting like a whore.” He says, beaming with a smile. 

He takes his fingers out, helping you clean up and throw the paper away. He holds you in his arms, the jealousy flushed out of his system turning him back onto his clingy self. 

You look up to him, his eyes shiny with love on them. Smiling widely at you. You don't know what pushes you to say it, but once it leaves your lips you are not sure who is more flabbergasted out of the two. 

“I think I love you, Kyle”

“Wh- Bird- I- You can't…” he sighs, resting his head on yours. “You can't say such a thing right after I called you a whore, Birdie!” He complains, trying to hide the smile on his voice. 

“Hm, don't call me a whore then!” You argue, the same smile on your face. “Are you not going to say it bac-”

Before you can finish the question, his lips are on yours. Plush soft lips kissing you lovingly, he is almost hugging your head with how tightly he is hugging your shoulders. “I think I love you too, Birdie. You little minx”

You chuckle against his lips, butterflies on your stomach as if mere minutes ago it wasn't his dick you were feeling inside of you. It's a silly feeling, but a warm one indeed. 

He kisses you again, a soft peck on your lips before softly patting your butt (the side he didn't assault before) and saying. “Wash your face and get out before they think I murdered you.”

You chuckle, getting spooked at your reflection on the mirror. You grab paper again, working on taking most of the mascara running down your face and the smudged lipstick. 

You do a decent job at it, cleaning Gaz's lips as well and walking out of the bathroom, still feeling your knees ready to give up. It is clear that whichever high rank that was at the party must have left, because the quiet dinner from before is slowly turning into a party. 

On your table, only Ghost, Soap and Price are still sitting down. Most likely waiting to leave altogether, but it makes the walk easier and as you try to sit down, Price pulls you into his lap, Gaz groaning behind you. 

Price kisses your temple. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks softly, and you shake your head grabbing the champagne bottle for the middle of the table. “I'm finally out of the house, I want a party.”

It's late at night when the five of you finally make it home. Everyone's a little bit tipsy, enough to make everyone clumsy and to have an easy laugh at everything. That's how you go to sleep, helping everyone get naked too tired to bother with any sleepwear. Between giggles, kisses and smacks to everyone's butts with the corresponding “EH!”

It is a comedic image, the bed not big enough but everyone still stubborn enough to sleep altogether. Too clingy to sleep apart from each other.

Price wishes he could sleep like this every night, knowing the five of you are safe and within reach. 

If only he knew he wasn't going to be able to do it again.

TADAAA

Hi lovelies!! 💗

We are now on the last stretch, only one more chapter left. And it has me on my feelings to see the series end 😭

But anyway, hope you like it 💗

Also, debating whether to upload the last chapter later today or tomorrow, so we will see.

Make sure to leave a comment or a reblog if you did 💗💗

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[pseudowho]

Glory Glory: Higuruma Hiromi

An absolutely unhinged delicious "Help, I'm stuck!" series, where the reader is taken care of by the JJK guys.

18+ as always.

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Too many late nights and bottles of wine with Hiromi went this way; your conversations ran through a brambled path of half-Law and half-Jujutsu, as was in-keeping with the new path Hiromi's career had taken. His little office was dark, all old mahogany and panelled walls lined with case files, yellowing and dry. Hiromi liked to live life on the edge in this tiny office, by enjoying his wine with you by candlelight.

As you moved from one bottle of wine to two, the conversations turned from educated, to gossipy, and Hiromi participated eagerly with hooded eyes and a sardonic half-smile as you took turns to spill tea. A man who loves learning, loves information in many forms, you reasoned to yourself.

"I mean, Nanami Kento is absolutely right," Hiromi urged, his rich voice wine-drunk and sultry now, "Jujutsu sorcery is shit. And work is shit. I'm not sure why I do any of it. Maybe I should go back to my briefly attempted life of being a murderous reprobate." Hiromi drained the last of his wine, releasing a happy "mmmm" as he rolled his wine glass thoughtfully.

"And yet, we must work to live," you groaned, a dramatic arm over your eyes as Hiromi smiled at you, hooked nose crinkled, jaw resting against his hand. Pointing a finger at you as he arrived at a thought, Hiromi swung his legs down from the footstool before standing, reaching up to a shelf to start rummaging for a folder.

"I read something in an old case file the other day actually, and thought of you...hang on...where is it..." Hiromi mumbled to himself, hunting.

He gestured a hand back to you, still looking through the high shelves, "It's red," he pressed, "the folder, it's red. Help me search." You hummed your assent and went to the corner behind his desk, where a series of case notes stood perilously stacked on either side of a tight nook. Spotting a red folder at the back, underneath a large stack, you knelt on all-fours, and tried to weedle the folder out without causing disturbance to the others before--

-- a heavy paper rustle had you totally engulfed in swathes of case files, now falling open and tumbling over you, squashing your top half down with their weight, leaving you uncomfortably face-down-arse-up.

You heard Hiromi gasp behind you, "No no no, my filing--"

"Oh, 'filing' my arse, Hiromi, that was chaos--"

"-- I knew where everything was and now look at it--"

"--alright, alright, I'll just get out and you can sort--" as you moved backwards to pull yourself out, more stacks teetered and wobbled, collapsing onto you and Hiromi cried out his disdain, pushing you back into the nook with a strong hand on your arse.

You blushed, squirming against him, "Hiromi!" He held you in place, chastising you. He resisted the urge to squeeze you, arousal seeping into him at the shape of you in your delicious pencil skirt, nipping in at your waist and stretching over your arse and thighs.

"Don't move, you're making it worse!" He tutted at you, and you heard him rustling around above you, trying to correct the opened folders. After a few minutes, he sighed, giving up, the job too impossible to manage after so much wine.

Grabbing his gavel, he placed a wooden coaster on top of your outstretched arse, and tapped it sharply, once; "Guilty, of fucking up my filing system. Naughty." You giggled, wiggling your arse at him.

"Oh no, what's going to happen to me, sir?" Hiromi chuckled, humming, eyes darkening at you wiggling at him, god, you didn't know what you did to him, wine-drunk with him in the candlelight, your blouse slowly unbuttoning as the night went on, the gossip getting spicier and the inhibitions lowering, but never enough that you would come to him and let him taste the wine off your lips--

"Did you know," Hiromi pondered, pleased you couldn't see how solid his cock was against the thigh of his black trousers now, and Hiromi loosened his tie with one fine-boned finger, "that I can change the size and shape of this gavel?"

You paused, confused, wondering how this was relevant, but humoured him; "Oh?"

Hiromi hummed, stroking the gavel thoughtfully against your arse cheeks as you shivered, the wine bringing a blush, hot and fervent, to the surface of your skin.

"Obviously, I've considered its many applications," Hiromi continued, voice like satin now, convincing, alluring.

"Almost as long as I've considered you...in that skirt...in my office...all alone together, late at night." Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit your lip, soaking in his voice; you would be lying if you said you hadn't felt the same.

Hiromi's hands ran along the hem of your skirt, clever fingers rubbing circles underneath it now on the inside of your thighs. You let out a hushed moan, much to Hiromi's satisfaction. Emboldened, he continued as he rolled your skirt slowly upwards, thrilled to see the lace edge of your stockings come into view.

"Do you want to see...how it would feel? Inside you, getting bigger, smaller, longer, shorter...it could be fun. Something new." You gasped, pussy clenching at the thought of Hiromi pleasuring you, and you let out a happy murmur, too embarrassed to voice your agreement in words. Hiromi laughed, rich and bold behind you.

"Good girl." Your arse was completely exposed now, and Hiromi made quick work of disposing of your underwear, admiring the womanly curves and dips of you, tracing stretch-marks and dimples with his lithe long fingers. He grabbed his gavel, turning it in his hand.

You felt him kneeling behind you, Hiromi pressing his hips and throbbing cock hard once against you for relief, as he let out a crackling moan. He leaned down, nipping your arse a few times as you squeaked, punctuating the little red marks with wet appreciative kisses. You heard him growl, low and determined.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, you forget your own name." You whimpered as Hiromi slipped his fingers through your folds, finding your clit with ruthless efficiency, removing them for a moment to taste you and spit on his fingers before pushing back into your pussy, rolling your clit between his fingers like a little pebble as you cried out and trembled at the sudden shocks of intense pleasure. You gasped, mewling, as your pussy clenched around nothing.

Hiromi watched your fluttering pussy, eager to be filled, and twisted his gavel, grasping it by the hammer now. Rubbing the handle up and down once, twice, three times between your folds, just as you were about to cry out and beg him, Hiromi slipped its length inside you to the hilt, and you squealed at the sudden cool wood inside you.

Hiromi continued, hushing you gently, continuing to rub small, tight circles on your clit as he planted soft, open-mouthed kisses to your lower back. He thrusted the handle of his gavel firmly in and out of you, tilting it just so that it rubbed insistently against your g-spot, and you shook and moaned.

"Could do with being a bit...thicker, though, hmm?" You squeaked in alarm and ecstasy as you felt the handle expand in diameter inside you, its added girth pressing flush against your inner walls, making you feel so tight as Hiromi continued to thrust it, harder now, and you felt pleasure coiling rapidly within you, your knees threatening to collapse underneath your shaking body.

"Or how about...longer?" You had a moment to gasp out in anticipation as you felt the gavel stretch inside you, pressing harshly against your cervix as you bucked and cried out. Hiromi revelled in delight as you fell apart beneath him, clever fingers working magic on you as you fizzed with ecstasy.

Hiromi's black spiked hair was unruly now and his shirt came untucked as he carried on working on you, thrusting the gavel into you at a relentless pace as he quickened his pace on your clit, and you begged, nonsense and pleas rolling off your tongue as Hiromi bit his lower lip, frowning and groaning at the white ring of cum forming around the base of his gavel as he thrusted and thrusted it.

Your orgasm was about to peak, when Hiromi rapidly reduced the size and shape of the gavel, and you cried out in utter disdain. Hearing a rapid rustle of fabric behind you, and a zipper being pulled down, Hiromi pulled the gavel out, throwing it aside, and thrusting his aching cock hard into you until he bottomed out with a sandy moan.

Folded over you to continue his frantic circles on your clit, Hiromi rutted into you with abandon. Your orgasm burst through you, white hot, and you would have collapsed had Hiromi not held you up, still slamming his hips against you with wet slaps, unadulterated wine-fuelled whimpers falling from Hiromi's lips as his orgasm hit him, pleasure crackling through him, eyebrows raised and mouth agape in agonised euphoria.

Hiromi held his breath as he came, releasing it in one shaky gasp as he came down, grinning and delighted. You slumped to the floor, utterly dazed, Hiromi's cum dripping out of you onto the dark oak floor.

Hiromi panted, leaning down to kiss your back again as he squeezed your hips. Nuzzling you with his hooked nose, he spoke casually.

"More wine?"

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[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Eight: Music

Jegulus smut with maybe... some plot? Sirius doesn't know (just like if you know me irl? you dont) about jegulus at all... anyway, there's a reason James always has his music on too loudly

“Turn the music down, James!”

The brunette heard his best friend's yell echo from across the hall but he wasn't listening. He was also one hundred percent sure that Sirius would rather hear the possibly too loud bass of his music than the noises his little brother was making.

“Sh-shit, Jamie, fuck,” Reg managed the words between gasped moans, nails digging into the older boy’s back.

He cursed, “that's it, baby, you're so fucking perfect.”

The younger whimpered, arching into him further and throwing his head back, exposing that beautiful neck. That neck he knew he wasn't meant to mark. But it was right there. It was taunting him. Regulus let out a gasped moan when his boyfriend started sucking and biting at his neck. He would've said something, that it was a bad idea maybe, if he wasn't slowly going insane with bliss. A slightly louder moan tore free from him, almost animalistic, when James reached between them to rub circles against his clit, slowly, faster, faster, fuck.

“So good for me, angel.” James grunted at the nails scratching down his back, his hips stuttering slightly, “I'm so close, fuck.”

“Jamie, merde.”

The brunette moaned into his neck, against the skin he'd probably bruised by now, cursing as his boyfriend came, clenching around him. His hips lost their rhythm as he came, pressing fleeting kisses against Reg's neck and shoulders and collar bones as he slowly lowered himself to lie on top of him.

Regulus let out a soft huff as the older man's weight pressed into him and reached up to card his fingers through his hair gently, “hi sweetheart.”

He smiled and reached over for the remote for the stereo, turning down the music and pressing a kiss to the other's temple, “you need to find a way to be quieter, angel.”

“We've music and you like it when I'm loud.”

“Sirius yelled for me to turn it down, he'll catch on at some point.”

“That's his problem, not mine.”

James laughed softly, “it'll be your problem when your boyfriend is hung drawn and quartered, my love.”

“He wouldn't hurt my boyfriend!”

“I mean in his defence, he has no idea-”

“...Stop making excellent points.” He kissed his nose and tugged on his hair gently, “I liked the new mixed tape.”

“I thought you would.”

Reg smiled, about to reply and ask when he'd made it, but a holler came up the steps again. Followed by impatient stomping on stairs.

“James! You arse! It's your bloody turn to cook dinner! What the fuck are you doing in here?” The handle of his room twisted but the door remained closed, the brunette muffling his laugh in his boyfriend's neck. “Why the fucking hell is your door locked? Prongs! Come and make dinner you arse!”

“Go.” The younger whispered it into his hair, shushing the protest he knew was coming, “I'm fine, my love, I'm great actually. I'll be even better if my brother doesn't come barging in here. Go on.”

“Prongs!”

“Coming, I'm coming! Chill, Pads.” He pulled away reluctantly and kissed the figure smiling under him before rolling out of the bed and tugging on his boxers and joggers. He chuckled softly when his boyfriend lobbed his tee at him, lowering his voice to a whisper, “what's this for?”

Regulus grinned and tugged the duvet over himself, “you've scratches.”

“You're such a cat.”

“And you're such a stag, now shoo.”

The older boy scoffed and tugged on the tee before slipping out of his door, making sure it closed behind him before his best mate could look in, “you're very impatient, Pads.”

Sirius scanned him curiously, but merely shrugged and started walking downstairs, “what were you even doing? You're all flushed.”

“Pull-ups, sorry about the music, didn't realise how loud it was when I was in the moment.”

“It's alright, you're lucky Reggie doesn't mind that kind of music.”

“Yeah, really lucky.” He smiled to himself and clapped his mate on the back, “right, what d'you want for dinner?

***

“Reg!!! It's dinner!”

Regulus groaned at his brother's holler and rolled out of the bed he'd buried himself back into after his quick shower. He grabbed his shirt from the side and cursed under his breath at the state of it. They'd maybe been a little frantic to get the clothes off earlier.

“Regulus!”

“I'm coming you grumpy old dog!” He called back, reaching into his boyfriend's wardrobe for one of his tees which fell just above his knees, foregoing his boxers and trousers because… making said boyfriend suffer was awfully good fun.

James looked up as the younger boy walked into the lounge and almost choked. He also almost dragged him back up to his room. He was starving, but the plate in front of him had never looked so unappetising.

“Finally! What took you so long, étoile?”

He shrugged and settled into his spot, the one between James and the arm of the sofa. Which he honestly had made his, before he actually knew where the man who would become his boyfriend sat. He could feel the probably-not-subtle eyes running over him and smiled, “dinner looks good.”

His brother nodded and flopped into the armchair near them, picking up the remote, “I love mum and dad but I might love eating in front of the tv more.”

Regulus nodded and forced a shiver, tugging the blanket over himself and the brunette, “me too. It's far more relaxed.”

His boyfriend grinned at him and moved his hand to his inner thigh, brushing against where he'd expected to find boxers and stifling a groan by stuffing a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. He glanced at his best friend whose attention was affixed to the screen and dipped his hand between his thighs, brushing lightly against his clit.

“Oh, Reggie, Pandora called.”

He raised an eyebrow at his brother, ignoring the teasing touches as best as he could, “she did?”

“Yeah, asked about going to the city centre tomorrow, the library. I said you'd call if you couldn't go but otherwise meet her there at eleven.”

James waited for the moment his boyfriend opened his mouth to pinch his clit, just hard enough to elicit a sharp inhale.

“Oh, yeah, that's great. I'll definitely g-” he forced back a moan as a finger slipped into him, curling up to brush his gspot, “go-oh.”

Sirius glanced over at the stuttered word and furrowed his brows, “you okay, Reggie?”

“Yeah, yea-” he clenched his jaw when his boyfriend repeated the motion and had a sip of his water, smiling sheepishly at his brother, “hiccups, sorry.”

He shrugged and turned back to the tv. James waited a moment to ensure he wasn't going to turn back around and pushed a second finger into him, curling and stroking until he was fairly certain the it other's teeth were grinding together. He leaned over slightly, whispering against the shell of his ear, “so pretty and desperate for me, angel. In my shirt and nothing else. Practically begging me to fuck you, hm?”

Reg let out a quiet whimper, making sure his voice was just as quiet when he replied, “is this you - fuck - teaching me to be quiet?”

“Mm. You're doing so well, baby.”

“Fuck, Jamie, please.”

The brunette smirked and rubbed his thumb against his clit, moving his fingers just too slowly, “if you're quiet you can come whenever you want, angel.”

He bucked his hips into the contact slightly before nodding, biting his lip hard enough to draw the faintest blood to hold back a moan when his boyfriend sped up. His shoulders slumped into the sofa behind him as he focused on being quiet, only a quiet gasp leaving him when he came, head thrown back slightly, back arched up the tiniest amount.

James drew his hand back and waited until his boyfriend was looking at him to suck his fingers clean. He smirked at the almost silent whimper, mouthing ‘good boy’ and watching the younger boy crumble on the spot.

They were going to need louder music.

[yelenasdiary]

Party's Over

Pairing: Police Officers! WandaNat x Fem! Daughter! Reader, Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sneaking out on a Thursday night to join your girlfriend at a party wasn’t what your mothers thought they’d be dealing with when one of them gate crashes the party.

Warnings: Angst, Some Fluff Mentions of underage drinking, Language Warning, mentions of drugs, Reader is 17, so is Kate, Slightly Overprotective Parents, Character Death ?? | 2.2K

AC: I hope you all enjoy this little idea I had x

Music filled the house party full of teenagers from several different high schools, red cups full of beer in the hands of most, people scattered throughout the house, some in the pool and others in small groups of their own. You snuck out after hours ago to join your girlfriend, Kate, for a bit of rule breaking fun. 

Kate, wearing black jeans and her archery club dark purple t-shirt, could barely keep her hands off you, especially when you were wearing the leather jacket that she had gotten you for valentine's day, a plain black t-shirt underneath finished with black jeans and a pair of your mom's black combat boots. Kate placed a kiss on your neck while her warms were wrapped around you from behind as you poured another two beers for you both, "wanna go upstairs?" she whispered. 

A soft smirk tugged at your lips, you nodded, placing the beers on the table before following your girlfriend upstairs to an empty bedroom. Kate knew you weren't ready for anything physical, and she respected that, the furthest the two of you had got was a steamy make out session whenever you were home alone, tonight was no different. Kate gently brushed your hair out of the view of your neck, "may I?" she looked up at you, you knew what she was asking, "just small ones" you replied. 

Her lips pressed against the skin on your neck, lightly sucking to leave a faint but noticeable mark, she left a total of four hickeys on your neck before her lips were pressed against yours once more, your tongues exploring each other, too distracted to hear the loud yelling from downstairs over the music. 

"Yeah, yeah! Save it!" The police officer shook her head, "The party is over! Now I suggest you all get out of my sight before I take everybody down to the station and call your parents!" she added, grabbing a plastic red cup out of a party goers' hand, "and I am sure they won't be happy with the fine they'll get for underage drinking!" She went on. The house quickly went form a fun party to teenagers dropping their drinks and rushing to get out of the house. 

"I'll check upstairs" the red head's partner commented before walking up the stairs, "Who's house is this?" the officer looked around at those who didn't move, raising a brow when neither answered. 

"Alright kids, that's enough" A voice interrupted your make out session, Kate's hands all over your arse. "Parties over" the officer added when you pulled yourself away from your girlfriend, rolling your eyes at being caught. The officer followed you and Kate downstairs where you heard a familiar voice. Your heart skipped a beat when you came eye to eye with your mother, Natasha. 

"Y/n" she said your name sternly, full of disappointment, "Kate" she said in the same tone as her eyes shifted to Kates. You knew you were in deep shit, especially when you were supposed to be at home and studying for next week's history exam. Your mother looked back at you, her jaw clenching as she tried to keep from giving you a lecture in front of everybody, "Officer Hill, could you please take these two outside" she added without breaking the strong eye contact with you. 

----

"Mom, can we please just go home?" you asked while sitting on the seat by her desk, your arms crossed while your mother gave you the silent treatment. "The best thing you can do right now is keep quiet!" she replied, shooting a disappointed look your way. You rolled your eyes once more before looking across the room to your girlfriend and giving her a soft 'I'm sorry' type of smile. Just then, Nat rose from her seat and walked over to Kate, you watched from your seat but were unable to hear a word that was said. 

"Does Clint know you were out tonight?" Natasha asked the blue-eyed girl, she shook her head, "No Mrs Romanoff, I told him I was staying at your place tonight with Y/n to study" Kate replied with the honest truth, she knew better to lie to a cop, let alone Natasha Romanoff. 

"Right. I'm going to give him a call, I'll have one of the offices take you home" Natasha spoke sternly seeing how scared Kate was from getting into trouble with the red head. "Another thing" she paused, looking directly into Kate's eyes, "I know you and Y/n have been dating for a while but if I ever catch her with hickeys on her neck again, you won't be seeing her any longer, do you understand?" 

Kate nodded, "I understand, I'm really sorry Mrs Romanoff" she replied. 

"Good, Officer Hill will take you home, I'm going to call Clint now." 

You watched your mother wander back to her desk and pick up the phone, your eyes drifted over to take and mouthed "what did she say?" but Kate just shook her head, making you mad at your mother for whatever was said. 

----

"What did you say to Kate?!" you demanded as your mother opened the door to your home, "Go upstairs to your room!" Nat replied, ignoring your question as you stormed into the living room. Wanda paused her sitcom and looked at the two of you confused. 

"What's going on? Why are you dressed and why are you home so early?" she asked, standing up from the sofa. Natasha was set to knock off work at 2am but here she was at 11pm. 

"Do you want to tell her or should I?" Nat looked at you while her hands worked on taking off her gun holster belt. Full of frustration, you turned to your mom. "I snuck out, okay?! I snuck out and went to a party with Kate! I don't see what the big deal is! I am 17 for god's sake" you snapped. Wanda wasn't impressed with your actions but she was always the calmer parent when it came to conflict. "Now tell her about the marks on your neck" Natasha added. 

"Oh what?!" you moved your hair to the side, showing your mother the hickeys that Kate left behind, "these?! Just some fucking hickeys?!" you added. 

"That is enough! You do not speak to me like that! Do you understand how worried your mother and I would be if something happened to you?! Did you even stop to think about that? You are still a teenager!" Natasha's voice rose with anger, deep down her own fears were beginning to show. 

"Honey" Wanda walked up to her wife, "go take a shower and calm down, let me take this one" she added in her soft tone that always helped Natasha take a moment to breathe. 

"God!" you snapped once more, "you act like I am supposed to be this perfect child and do nothing wrong, all I ever do is do good by you and the one time I want to do something for myself you act like it's the end of the world!" you added, Wanda turned around and now both your parents were looking at you. "Do you know how fucking annoying and embarrassing it is to have the entire school know that my mothers are police officers" you went on just as Wanda opened her mouth to say something, "I never get invited to parties because nobody wants you two to show and up ruin it just like you did tonight! Now everybody is going to think it's my fault!" You finished before storming upstairs to your room, slamming the door shut. 

Of course, your mothers knew their job title would eventually cause an unspoken issue but after seeing your little outburst, they only just now saw how much their jobs were affecting your social life. 

After a while, Wanda came knocking on your door. "Honey, can we talk?" she asked, poking her head in. You tossed your phone to the other side of your bed and sat up as Wanda walked in and sat down on the edge of your bed. "Don't give me that lecture about mom loving me so much and she is only mad because she cares, please" you sighed. 

"But you're right on that sweetheart, she does love and care about you so much, you're our baby" your mother reached for your hand, "do you know what we see every single day on our job?" Wanda asked causing you to roll your eyes, "I know, I get it" you huffed. 

"Honey, please, listen to me" your mother tilted her head ever so slightly, "you're 17, you're young and you're going to do things that mom and I aren't going to agree with but at the end of the day, you're our little girl. No matter how tall you are, you'll be 50 and still our little girl, your safety is so important to us.

Mom told me what she said to Kate, she doesn't mean that. You're just growing up so fast and now you're dating, it worries us, but I know you're safe and Kate is a lovely woman and I hope she isn't to upset with your mom" Wanda couldn't help but brush a lock of hair behind your ear, "I know our jobs take a toll on you and I spoke to mom, she's going to drop the possession charges on the brothers who lived there but I can't let you sneaking out slide. You broke our trust a little tonight, so I am only doing this because I love you and I want you to really understand that" she went on. 

"Mom, please! it was one time" you sighed knowing that your punishment was coming. 

"Hopefully the last. You're grounded, no going to Kate's this weekend"

"Mom! You've gotta be kidding me!?" You snapped, pulling your hands away from your mother.

"I'm sorry love, but it's only fair" 

----

 The weekend went by slowly, not only were you not allowed to stay at your girlfriends for the weekend but Natasha and Wanda both agreed to confiscate your phone for the weekend. You spent the whole of Saturday in your room, ignoring your mothers whenever they came by, they knew you were upset but so were they. Come Monday morning and you were over the whole ideal. 

"Good morning" you smiled as you took a seat at the dinner table, Wanda made a quick eggs, bacon and toast for breakfast, all three of you were at school and work today. "Somebody seems happier today" Natasha replied as she looked up from the newspaper, Wanda pouring herself a mug of coffee while you took a sip of your orange juice. 

"Yeah, I did some thinking and I guess you guys were right to be worried and I am really sorry" you explained. Both your mothers looked at you, Wanda smiled softly, "I'm glad you see the situation from our shoes" she spoke.

"But" you looked to Nat, "mom, you can't talk to Kate like you did. I know you want to protect me from literally everything, but I trust Kate and she's always been so caring and respectful towards me. Thursday night was the first time she'd ever left marks on me, and I liked it and if the time comes and I want to sleep with her, I will" you added before taking a bite out of your toast, leaving Natasha speechless. You rose from your seat, your toast still between your lips.

"You're leaving already?" Wanda asked, slightly assumed. 

"Yeah, I have a test today and I want to get there early to see Kate" you replied, grabbing your backpack before wandering over to Nat and placing a kiss on her cheek, "I love you mom, have a good day" you spoke before doing the same to Wanda, grabbing your phone from her before leaving the house. 

"Love you too honey!" You mothers called out in sync. 

----

You knew you'd have the house to yourself after school, so it wasn't a surprise that you invited Kate over to make up for the lost time from the weekend. Upstairs in your bedroom, laying in Kates arms as she read you her English essay while her fingers ran through your hair, her voice calming you from the build-up of nerves that you had felt all day. 

"Mrs Potts is totally going to fail me on this" Kate chuckled as she threw her essay to the side once she finished reading it. "Don't say that! you'll pass! It covers everything the assessment said to cover" you replied, looking up at her. Kate frowned slightly, "what's going baby?" she asked seeing the uncertain look in your eyes. You sat up slowly and shook your head lightly, "I don't know, something feels off ever since lunch, I'm probably just stressed about todays test" you replied trying to brush off the uneasy feeling you were having. 

Just then, you heard the front door open, "Mom's home! I'm going to ask if you can stay for dinner" you smiled, leaving Kate in your bedroom as you wandered down the stairs. One look at your mother and that uneasy feeling suddenly made sense. 

"M-mom?" You questioned looking at her, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Mom, what happened?!" you asked, fearing the worst.

Taglist: @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @romanoffs-widow | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @shibugs | @music-4ever | 

[wreckedandpolemic]

spilling amaretto - george daniel

(mdni) in which you and george make good use of an empty bar after closing time (or, the bartender!george au). 5375 words.

warnings: daddy kink (i'm sorry), public sex, praise, degradation, spanking, oral (f receiving), brief mentions of body insecurity, gratuitously slutty matty cameo

The expression the night shift makes for strange bedfellows had never been one you’d much considered until now, with George’s body warming the sheets as you stir awake. You couldn’t pinpoint when the tension between you had begun, but you know the sequence of events that had pulled you into his bed tonight. It had started in the walk-in fridge, ironically in the least sexy way possible.

You crumple to the floor, shivering in the chill and covering your eyes, silent sobs wracking your body. Just as you stand, your deadline on self-pity drying up, the door bangs open. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way, I—” Your words die in your throat as you look up at George, his frame towering in the doorway.

“You alright, sweets? What’s wrong?” He’s watching you, concern written across his face.

You sigh. “Nothing.” You move to push past him, but he stops you with a carefully placed hand, heat prickling under your skin at his touch. George fixes you with a look. “Been doing three people’s jobs fucking thanklessly all day. Tony’s up my arse, as per. Woman on seventeen shouting at me because I brought her the drink she fucking ordered and she didn’t read the pissing menu. Had a shit day yesterday, I’m on the fucking close today. I dunno, s’all just shit.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, a humiliated flush creeping up your cheeks as tears brim on your lashes.

“C’mere, sweets, s’gonna be fine. C’mon, I’ve got you,” George murmurs, folding you into his arms. You melt against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing. His hand comes up stroke along your back, tracing delicate patterns over your spine. “There you are, pretty girl.” Embarrassingly, your heart jumps. “I’ll take the close, yeah? Or at least get him to put me on it as well.”

You shake your head, mortified. “No, don’t. M’being a baby. It’s not that big a deal.” Wiping your eyes, you sniff and try to suck it up, dragging your feet as you start to head back to the neglected bar.

“If you’re this upset, it’s a big deal, love. I don’t mind taking it, I’m serious. Could use the extra couple of quid, honestly.” George smiles earnestly down at you, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you return it thinly. “See, I got you, promise.” Slightly less shaken, you follow George back to the bar, slipping back into customer service mode with a falsely cheerful Hiya, sorry for the wait. How can I help?

George flags down your manager and essentially strongarms him into sharing the close with you, cheerfully taking over the till as you weave past him with a tray of drinks. The second you emerge from the glasswash, you hear the sound of snapping fingers behind your head, and you clench your teeth.

You turn as slowly as possible, nails biting into your palms to keep calm. “Giz a Stella, would you, beautiful?” the customer leers through genuinely about three teeth, and you shudder.

“There’s a queue,” you say flatly, and he frowns.

“Oh, smile for me, sweetheart,” he says, not even pretending to hide the way he’s addressing your chest. “Come on, you’re a pretty girl, it’s a beautiful day, you gotta giz a smile,” he smirks, sleazy and unsettling.

Thankfully, George steps up behind you, resting a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Don’t speak to her like that, mate.” His tone is firm, perfectly polite and yet undercut with a threat that you know he can back up.

“Who’s this, your boyfriend?” he sneers, leaning close enough that you can smell alcohol sharp and acrid on his breath. “Like an older man, do you, pretty?”

You just stare, stunned into silence, until George slams his hand down on the bar and you jump. “Get out,” he orders, low and furious. “Get the fuck out of my bar before I haul your sorry arse out myself.” He’s deadly quiet, angry in a way you’ve rarely seen him, and the guy seems to sense that he’s serious; he flees with his tail between his legs and you snort.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a little shaken.

“Of course. You okay? D’you need a minute?” You smile up at him, nervously tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear and turning to pour a pint.

“Nah, I’m alright. S’long as I’ve got you to rescue me,” you grin, eyes focused on the glass in your hand as you flush red.

George slides his hand down to your hip, squeezing gently, and heat flares between your thighs. “Always.”

Service slowly winds down, until finally, blissfully, the last customer clears off. You throw up two fingers at their back, mouthing good fuckin’ riddance, and George shakes his head with a laugh. “You feelin’ better?” he asks, leaning across you to reach for the glasses stacked on the bar in front of you.

The heat of his body warms you through, the scent of his cologne dizzying as it envelops you. “Y-yeah,” you say, desperately trying to calm your racing heart. “Thanks.”

“Good,” George grins, placing a hand on your waist and gently nudging you to the side. You turn, pinned between him and the bar as you look up into his smirking face. Your heart hammers, a needy, trembling thing, and he leans close. “You’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that, you know?”

He’s so close you can feel his breath against your lips, so close you could memorise every square inch of his face, so close your chest is constricting. You lean away before you do something stupid, huffing a quiet laugh. “Fuck off.” You flush, grateful for the bar’s dim lighting.

“Am I interrupting something?” Matty’s teasing voice startles you out of your trance, and you scowl playfully at him.

“Yes, actually,” you retort. “Don’t you have cutlery to polish, or something?”

Matty laughs, the sound low and rich, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Everyone’s done closing except you unlucky fuckers. Just came for a pint.” You roll your eyes, watching him critically as you start him a Guinness. His chef jacket is stained, hanging  unbuttoned off his shoulders, the tank top underneath sweaty and tight to the contours of his body. You bite your lip a little, his frame undeniably attractive as he steps outside and lights a cigarette.

“G, d’you want something to drink before I close the taps?” you call, pouring yourself a cider as Matty wanders back in. You can’t help but watch the muscles in his throat as he swallows, the way his thumb brushes across his plush lips when he wipes his mouth.

Matty smirks back at you like he can read your thoughts and leans close. “Anytime, darling,” he murmurs, sudden warmth flooding your body. “Either of us. Or both, if that’s what you want.” You can’t help but imagine it, the heat pooling in your belly suddenly too much to bear.

“Nah, I’m alright, sweets. Thank you, though,” George says, emerging from the back. He huffs a disbelieving laugh at the sight of you and Matty, seemingly sensing the tension in the air between you. “Mate, are you ever not thinking with your dick?”

“Just makin’ sure she keeps her options open,”  Matty says, downing the rest of his drink and standing. “You two have a good night.” He pats your ass and strolls off, humming cheerfully as he goes.

George huffs, folding his arms and staring in the direction Matty left from. “I can’t believe him. Sorry, sweets. He’s full of shit.”

You can barely believe the words that fall from your lips, but they’re out there before you can think them through. “Is he? Or is that true?” you ask, fixing George with your best innocent eyes. “Have you ever shared a girl?”

You’re breathless, the room suddenly far too small for the swell of tension pulling between you. “A couple times,” George says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Why? Is that something you want, sweets?”

Thoughts race through your head so fast you’re set spinning, a coin set on its edge. Flashes of fantasies fill your vision, of plush lips and greedy hands and tattooed skin and sharp teeth; of three bodies, of slick sweat and slicker thighs, of bending over and being filled everywhere at once, of gentle praise and taking it like a good girl. You’re sure George can read your thoughts on your face, but you answer anyway. “Maybe. Maybe I want you all to myself, first.”

His grin is wicked, promising as he leans close, pinning you against the bar and speaking against your lips. “I’m right here, sweets.”

Your bravado collapses.

“I’m gonna go and do a restock,” you mutter, looking everywhere but his eyes. Thankfully, George relents, lets you slip out from under him and dart off to the cellar, but you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you go.

Heat flushes your body even in the cool of the cellar, the memory of George’s touch ghosting over your skin, his searching gaze, the promise of something unnameable hanging in the air between you. You lull yourself back into calmness with the rhythmic rattle of bottles as you pack them away, carefully hefting a full crate and lugging it up the steps. George rushes over as you kick the door open, easily lifting the crate from your hands. “Should’ve come and got me, love,” he chides, and you scoff, pouring yourself a rum and coke just to have something to do with your hands.

“I can do it myself just fine,” you say, even as you shamelessly ogle the muscles in his arms, biting on your straw to keep your thoughts inside.

“Trust me, sweets, I know exactly how capable you are. I’m just trying to be a gentleman, take care of you like a lady,” he adds, tossing you a smirk that drips down your spine, the words catching in your throat and bleeding into your lungs.

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you paste on a grin. “You’re so full of shit. Nobody who works here is a gentleman. Or a fucking lady.”

George shrugs. “Maybe not. Does that mean you don’t want me taking care of you, sweets?” There’s no mistaking his meaning, the slick, hot undercurrent of his voice. Your thighs clench involuntarily.

You knock back the rest of your drink for courage before you answer. If you pussy out again, you’re going to lose your nerve completely. “And what if I do?”

There’s a sharp exhale, then George crosses the bar in three long strides, crowding you against it but hovering just out of your reach. “Then I’d say be careful what you wish for, pretty girl. You sure you wanna get mixed up with me?” He grins wolfishly, and you shudder, arousal pooling in your belly. You nod, heartbeat thumping in your throat. “Last chance, darling.”

The epithet sends a burst of heat between your legs, and you bite down on a whine. “Shut up and kiss me,” you groan, stretching up to sling your arms around his neck. Finally, gloriously, he does.

The kiss is explosive, hungry, an outpouring of pent-up energy and desire. George’s big hands cup your face, fingers rough as he slides them up into your hair, unpinning the clip and letting it tumble loose over your shoulders. His tongue meets your lips and you part them eagerly, letting him lick frenzied into your mouth. You make out until you’re dizzy from lack of oxygen, pulling back to gaze up at George dreamily. “You,” he groans, kissing you so softly it would almost be chaste if your lips weren’t still dripping with his spit. “Have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.”

You giggle as his lips find your jaw, fingers gently sweeping your hair off your neck and trailing down kisses. “I think I have an idea.” You push his head away so you can look in his eyes, wide and liquid and luminous. “But why don’t you tell me anyways?” you add, grinning slightly.

“Wanted you from the first second I saw you, sweets,” George promises, kissing over the hollow of your throat. “Mmm, up you get, c’mon, love,” he says, tapping your thigh until you jump up and lock your legs around his waist. Sweet, blunt pain blossoms from where his fingers dig into your thighs as he carries you across the floor and deposits you on the other side of the bar. “First fucking second you walked in here, dolled up all pretty in that little white skirt, all ready for this place to ruin you, fuck. Should be fuckin’ locked up for the things I thought about you,” he groans, kissing softly over your jaw.

Tipping your head back, you moan softly as George nips at your neck. “What’d you think about?” you ask, sliding your hands under his shirt and mapping the vast, smooth expanse of his back with your fingertips.

George’s hand comes down to your chest, squeezing your tit before he pops a button on your uniform shirt. “Could see those little black panties through your skirt. Wanted to— mmm— get on my knees for you, pull ‘em off with my teeth, get my mouth on you.” He breaks up his words with slow, indulgent kisses, heat curling in your belly as you wrap your legs around him. “Got myself off so many fuckin’ times thinking about you. How you’d taste, what you’d look like under me, whether you’d be a good girl or a little brat.” George pinches your nipple through your shirt and you gasp into his mouth, arching your back and letting him loose your last button.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your tits, and you flush crimson when you realise you’re clad in your most unflattering underwear. “Sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t expecting— If I’d known—” George’s rough fingers tug down the cups of your bra, bending his head to press featherlight kisses over your tits.

“Don’t fucking apologise, are you mad? Been dreaming about these pretty tits of yours for months, sweets. Gonna worship them properly when I get you in a bed, promise.” George bites at your tits, blunt pain spreading from the points his teeth graze your skin and falling to your cunt. Your back arches when he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and pulling a moan from your lips. “Shit, y’so pretty, baby. You want me to go down on you?”

Your cunt clenches, desire pulsing dizzily through you. “Here?” you gasp out, the last vestiges of your rational brain clinging to control.

George laughs. “Why not? Everyone’s gone home. S’just you and me, sweets. Can scream as loud as you want for me, yeah?”

Clumsily, you wriggle out of your jeans and let them crumple to the floor under you, watching his eyes blow wide at the sight of you in just your work shirt and underwear. “Better make me scream, then. Do your worst, Daddy.”

He chokes, eyes glinting with steel. You glance down to see his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, your mouth watering and head spinning at how fucking hard he is. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweets,” George says, low voice stirring a thrill in your belly.

You throw him a challenging smirk. “Shouldn’t you be finishing me?” you tease. His hands creep down to your waist, your body trembling at his touch as he slides your panties down your legs. The sight of them crumpled on top of the bar is flusteringly obscene, your cunt pulsing as George drops to his knees.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, kissing at the insides of your thighs as you squirm.

“Stop staring at me,” you complain, pressing a hand to the back of George’s head to urge him closer.

“Can’t help it, sweets. You’re a fuckin’ masterpiece. This cunt is so pretty, ‘n I bet she tastes so sweet, too,” he says, in that slow, implacable drawl of his. The seconds between you stretch, pulled like taffy, the eagerness in your limbs almost vibrating.

Finally, gloriously, George leans in, licking a broad, flat stripe along your cunt, moaning as the taste of you hits his tongue. You cry out, legs kicking helplessly in the air. “Oh, my God,” you moan, heat pulsing in your core when George kisses your clit and sucks it into his mouth. “George, please,” you whine, white-knuckling the wooden bar-top as he licks at you with fervour.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs. “Taste so fucking sweet. Want Daddy to make you cum, baby?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, mouthing over you as your back arches to press your hips against his mouth. Liquid heat pours down your spine, hot and sugary as it drips over George’s lips.

Calloused fingers brush along your inner thighs, creeping higher and higher until you’re full so fast you’re choking. “Oh, fuck, yes!” you cry, euphoria twisting through your bloodstream as George sets a punishing rhythm, your head hazy as the rest of the room fades from your consciousness.

George licks at you starvingly, one big hand digging into your thigh while the other fills you ruthlessly, waves of hot, sweet pleasure cascading over you. Your cunt throbs wildly around his fingers, thighs clamped around his head like a vice as he moans against you. “So pretty, sweets. You ready to cum for Daddy, hm?” The vibration of his words as they ripple through you have you melting, pure bliss splattering on your ribcage and dripping down your insides. 

He curls his fingers just so, a pulse of wild, frenzied ecstasy knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your cunt throbs around his fingers, pleasure humming in every corner of your body as you cum against George’s tongue. “Shit, Daddy, m’cumming, fuck! Oh, fuck, I can’t— fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as arousal floods out against his tongue and drips down his fingers.

Grinning wickedly, George lifts his head, sucking his wet fingers into his mouth deliberately slow and teasing. He stands, catching your lips in a hungry kiss, the taste of you smearing sticky between your mouths. Carelessly, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks. “God, look at you. So fuckin’ pretty, sweets.” You tug your panties back on and hop to your feet, legs wobbly as you readjust to carrying your own weight. Bending over to retrieve your jeans, you suck in a sharp breath as George taps your ass, not hard enough to be a slap, but definitely more than a pat. “Oh,” he says, the smirk in his voice audible. “You like that? Good little girl wants Daddy to spank her, yeah?”

Your stomach clenches, flames licking along your thighs at his words. Grinning, you turn to face him. “And who said I was a good girl?” George’s gaze burns hot, darkly intense over your skin as you fix your bra and button your shirt. “Maybe I’m filthy. Maybe I’m a whore.” A grin stretches wide over your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. Your eyes flicker down to where his cock is straining against his jeans, the sheer size of his bulge making your mouth water. “D’you need some help with that, Daddy? Could be your little cocksleeve, if you want. Any hole you want, promise,” you smirk, slinking past him to toss your empty glass in the back. “Just gotta take me home, first.”

George’s hands are shaking as he locks the doors behind you, and you thrill; feel a sick sense of pride at flustering him for a change. You don’t let up on the drive to his place, propping your feet up against the dash and drawing slow circles over your clit, slow, deliberate pleasure seeping into your bloodstream. The light flush spreading across his cheeks emboldens you, your lips parting around a moan. “D’you know how many times I’ve— mm— got off thinking about you? Dreamed about gettin’— shit— getting fuckin’ split open on your dick?”

A sound that’s pure lust spills from George’s mouth. “God, we wasted so much time,” he groans. “First time you came to shift drinks, you were sat in my lap, ‘n I almost asked to fuck you right then. Would’ve, if I’d known what a needy little slut you are.”

Your head tips back, gasping as you speed your motions over your clit. “I remember that,” you moan. “Was tryin’ every fucking trick, y’know? All the grinding and the whispering and the fuck-me eyes. Would’ve thought you weren’t interested, ‘cept you were holding my waist so tight I couldn’t have got up if I wanted to. Never finished the guy I went home with, ‘cause he left after I called him George when I came,” you add. George’s jaw clenches.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “M’gonna make you forget every guy you’ve ever fucked, sweets, I promise you that.” Your thighs clench, anticipatory. One of George’s big hands wanders to cover your own, his fingers replacing yours over your clit. “God, y’so wet for me, baby. Bet I could just fuckin’ fill you up right now and you wouldn’t even notice, right?” You moan helplessly as he does just that, sliding two of his fingers into you alongside your own. “Don’t worry, sweets, we’re not far now. Needy cunt’s gonna get filled up soon, promise.”

At first, George matches your rhythm, then speeds until your nails are digging into his inked, muscled arm for dear life as he finger-fucks you ruthlessly. Pleasure pins you back against your seat, breath stolen from your lungs as if you’re driving a hundred miles an hour. He drags you to your peak, so tantalisingly close that you can fucking taste it, then pulls away cruelly. Before you can so much as whine, he tosses you a shit-eating grin. “We’re here, love,” he says, parking his car and climbing out.

You take George’s hand as he helps you out of the car, let him pin you against the cold metal and kiss him feverishly, your jeans still unbuttoned and sliding off your hips. “Bed, please,” you whimper against his lips.

“Whatever you want, you’ll get, sweets,” he grins. Your stomach swoops as he picks you up bridal style, his heartbeat thumping in time with yours when you press your head against his chest. He descends on you with starving lips as you fall into his bed, licking furiously into your mouth and tearing at your clothes. You’re naked and George is shirtless and panting before you break apart, roaming your hands over his sweat-damp skin and grinding against his cock through his jeans.

“Want you to fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy,” you add coyly, parting your lips coquettishly and letting your tongue loll out a little.

George just grins, kneeling up and grabbing your hips to roll you onto your stomach. “Not just yet, sweets. Gotta spank you first, make sure you’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”

Face pressed into the pillows, you moan helplessly, unconsciously widening your legs as you drip over George’s sheets. You arch your back, push your ass up towards him, whine something incoherent into the pillow. You hear the harsh crack of flesh against flesh before you feel the pain, a sweet sting sliding deliciously through your body. The second slap is just as unexpected as the first, but you feel it more acutely; the same, stinging pain undercut with the bite of metal where his rings connect with your skin. “Daddy, yes,” you moan, writhing happily as he hits your other cheek.

“Y’such a slut, baby,” he coos, gently kneading your flaming skin and nudging your legs further apart. “I fuckin’ love it,” he adds, his grin audible.

“I’d say it’s only for you, but that’d be a lie,” you smirk. “I’m just a slut. A dirty fuckin’ slut. You can do anything you want to me, and I’ll like it, promise.”

“Is that right?” George breathes, low and dangerous. It’s all the warning you get before his hand comes down hard against your cunt, a shockwave of pleasure crashing over you. You gasp and writhe, pleading incoherently as he slaps you again.

Your head thrashes back and forth, tension coiling hot in your belly. “George, please,” you whimper. “Just fuck me. I’ll be good for you, promise. I need you s’bad, Daddy.”

“Such a little whore,” he says reverently. “Jesus, this arse,” he groans, watching the fat of it ripple under another slap. “These fucking hips, those tits,” he practically moans. “D’you know how crazy this perfect little body makes me, sweets?”

Heat floods your cheeks, the intensity of his gaze palpable as George maps every inch of your exposed skin. Briefly, you thank God that you’re facedown; this level of scrutiny over your stomach would send you spiralling. “S’not that little.”

George laughs. “What are you, sweets? Five-four?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you say flatly, and George seems to sense the souring of your mood.

He flips you over, gentle concern written across his face. There’s no pity there, though, his eyes still dark with lust as he brushes your hair out of your face. “D’you remember that time we went out and you were wearing that tiny, tight little black dress?” You nod. You remember exactly how self-conscious you were in it, too. “Thought I was gonna fuckin’ burn a hole in it from how hard I was staring. Y’looked so fuckin’ good, could barely control myself. Got off thinkin’ about fucking you in it every night for a week. Drove me crazy. Don’t worry, sweets, m’gonna fuck all the thoughts out of that pretty head of yours, okay?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Want you bad,” you add shakily, stretching up to kiss him hungrily, and George smirks against your mouth.

“There you are, pretty girl. C’mon, legs up, yeah? Gonna fuckin’ wreck you.” You obey thoughtlessly, gazing up at him with lust-blown eyes as he peels out of his jeans and boxers in one motion. Drool floods your mouth at the sight of his cock springing free, hard and heavy and fucking huge between his legs.

“Fuck me,” you groan, pressing your head back. “Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, Daddy, please,” you whine, letting him fit himself between your legs and slowly slide his cock through your folds. Pleasure ripples through you as he presses into you, the feeling divine as you stretch around his head.

George buries his head in your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans. “This needy cunt’s takin’ me so well, sweets. So wet for me,” he praises, one of his hands coming down to play with your tit, grasping and squeezing greedily. “Would you think I was a fucking pervert if I told you I’ve had dreams about fucking these gorgeous tits?” A heady, dizzying pulse of arousal hits your core, arousal dripping out over George’s cock as he slowly starts to move.

“Maybe. If I didn’t like you so much,” you giggle. “I mean, you’re, what? Twelve years older than me? Some perverted old man at my job starin’ at my tits so hard he tips lager over a customer?” George winces, and you laugh. “I noticed. So filthy, Daddy,” you add smugly, moaning against his mouth when he fills you slow and deep. Pleasure winds tight through your body, fizzing and sparking sweetly in your chest.

“Can you blame me? I mean, fuck, look at you. D’you have a single fuckin’ clue what you do to me in those low-cut little tops you wear?” The praise sends liquid heat curving up your spine. The knowledge that you’re the one getting him off, that you’re the object of his fantasies is nothing short of dizzying. “Takes all my fucking self-control not to just—” George cuts himself off, burying his head between your tits and lapping hungrily at your skin. You moan happily as his teeth scrape against your flesh, the sudden, sharp pain delicious as it falls to your core.

Your chest is heaving and spit-slick by the time George looks up, cunt soaked and clenching around him. “Need it harder, Daddy, please,” you beg, locking your legs around his waist as he fucks into you. You can feel every single inch of him, feel the pressure of his body against yours, feel his heartbeat kicking in tune with yours.

“So gorgeous, sweets. Such a good girl for your Daddy, yeah?” His hips slam against yours, every breath a struggle against the liquid ecstasy filling your lungs. He’s crooning out soft praises, lowering his head to kiss and bite at your tits again. The thought of the bruises that’ll litter your chest tomorrow makes you thrill, hips rocking up against George’s as you careen towards your orgasm.

One of his big hands trails down to rub circles into your clit, wetness smearing under his fingertips as pleasure races uncontrollably through you. “George, please,” you whimper, back arching and legs trembling. 

“Right there, aren’t you, sweets?” George croons, rough fingers scraping over your sensitive nerves. He lowers his head, covers your mouth with his, kisses you so gently it would almost be sweet if he weren’t fucking into you at a brutal, uncontrolled pace. “God, you feel so good, so fucking good. Better than I could have dreamed, angel.”

You flush red, squeezing your eyes shut bashfully. Your orgasm builds and builds, a ball of pleasure screwed tightly in your core, hot and overpowering. It’s more intense than you think you’ve ever felt, George fucking deep into you with your body practically folded in half. “Shit, Daddy, m’gonna— I can’t— Fuck!” you cry, your vision whiting out as you cum impossibly hard. Your entire body turns liquid, arousal literally gushing out of you and flooding the mattress. “Oh, my God,” you whine, convulsing with pleasure as George grips your hips to hold you steady.

“Oh, baby,” George murmurs, hips still rocking steadily against yours as you float back down to Earth. “Shit, you fucking— Does that— I mean, was that me?”

You giggle. “If you’re asking me if anyone’s ever made me squirt before, the answer’s no. Guess that makes you the best I’ve ever had, huh?” George smirks, still rubbing your clit as he fucks into you, near-unbearable heat burning you from the inside out. “Are you gonna cum, Daddy? You wanna fill up my slutty cunt like I need?”

His pace turns erratic, desperate, your nails digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself to reality. “God, this cunt is so perfect, sweets. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum, make you all mine, yeah?” The words have barely left his lips before he does just that, spilling inside of you and groaning your name against your lips. You moan happily as his cock pulses, ropes of cum painting your insides white.

You kiss him greedily, whining when he pulls out, his eyes falling to your messy, dripping cunt. “You dreamed about me?” you grin, and George flushes siren-red, caught. “Were they dirty dreams?” you tease, rolling on top of him and resting on your elbows to gaze down at him.

His eyes are wide with lust, and he looks almost shy as he speaks. “Dreamed about this,” he grins. “Thought about how good your cunt would feel, how gorgeous you’d look cumming for me. Dreamed about your pretty lips around my dick, about tasting your pretty pussy. God, I just want you to sit on my fuckin’ face and drown me, sweets.” 

Smirking wickedly, you push yourself up into a sitting position. “That can be arranged,” you say, straddling him and moaning softly as you grind your cunt against George’s stomach. “Are you hungry?”

George licks his lips, eyes glinting as you shuffle your way up his body and kneel over his face. His tongue flickers out to tease your clit, and you gasp, hands fisting in the sheets. You feel him smirk against your core. “Starving.”

[whitehotwild]

i've never done an anon before so i'm so sorry if it sounds weird 😭😭 but do you think billy and his younger s/o would go to like, those summer carnivals? like, the ones that are at night? idk if that's js in my hometown tho 😭 she most definitely dragged him there and he reluctantly went bc he loves her, but lwk he ends up enjoying it. idkkk i js feel like there isn't enough soft!billy content on here and you are my only supplier of it 🙏🙏

OUUUUUUUU OU OU OU you just scratched an itch... im so giddy about this. (also ily and i'll gladly be ur supplier)

we only have fall carnivals in my town which sucks bc summer carnivals sound so much more fun.

you like... heard from a friend that there's this one in NJ, you try to convince butcher to go with you. you tell him that it's only 2 hours by way of penn station (nightmare nightmare nightmare), that he doesn't have to drive you, that you'll buy the entry tickets.

"let's just go to coney island, yeah? i'm not goin' to bleedin' New Jersey for a night just because you wanna ride some roller coasters. you got a ride right here..." he smirks, thinking he's oh so clever.

all it does is make you whine and go limp in his hold, "but pleeeeeeease??? It'll be fun! you're such a fucking party pooper."

it doesn't ever take much to make him give into you, that's his one weakness, "i ain't no fuckin' 'party pooper'. you're just a pain in me arse."

"okay... so are we going or not?"

butcher sighs with an unimpressed look on his face, "fine."

and then like when you're actually at the carnival, you make good on your promise to buy the entry tickets (wristbands whatever), and butcher pays for the games/rides.

after half an hour, he's spent only about $20, "I ain't spendin' over 50 bucks, got it?"

at the moment, you're more worried about what you're gonna get from the food truck than anything coming out of his mouth, "mhm. yup, got it."

you beg him to get on one of the rides with you and he finally gives in after a while, but the second you get off the ride he's looking at you like he kinda wants to kill you... just a little bit.

"you're tryna give me a bloody heart attack. i ain't doing that again."

(i'll die on the hill that butcher hates roller coasters just because i think it would be very funny.)

$100 and two hours later, butcher's finally cutting you off after winning you one of those big teddy bears from one of the game booths.

(yes, he knows he said $50. yes, he knows he's wrapped around your little finger)

"you happy, pet?" he asks you once you both settle on the train back to the city. there's no snark in his voice like you'd expect, just genuinely wanting to know that you had a good night.

you nod against his shoulder, your legs propped up in the empty seat in front of you, "yeah, i'm happy. you happy?"

butcher looks down at you, the way your head rests against him, the way your arm is snaked through his. he allows himself, just for a moment, to believe that he does deserve this... that he does deserve you and the joy you bring back to him.

"i suppose so. you like your bear?" he nudges you gently, motioning to where you sat the big stuffed bear in the seat in front of him.

"mhm... gonna name it 'billy jr.'" you tease with a tired smile, you're halfway to falling asleep and the train's barely left the station.

billy (sr.) huffs, unimpressed, but there's a small smile on his face, he untangles his arm from yours and wraps it around your shoulders, covering your eyes with his hand as he pulls you a bit closer into his side.

"ah, fuck off... you're delirious, go to sleep."

୨ ♡ ୧

just wanna say sorry that im not getting to requests as quick as i'd like! got a lot of shit happening atm BUT im on vacay atm so hopefully i can pump some out this week! LOVE YOU BYEEEE!

[diagonal-queen]

The ADA as your roommates

♡ characters: Atsushi Nakajima, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Yosano Akiko, Jun'ichiro Tanizaki, Naomi Tanizaki, Ranpo Edogawa, Yukichi Fukuzawa

♡ synopsis: How good are the ADA at being roommates?

♡ cw: This is a post born out of medication-induced sleeplessness and months of pent up unfiltered fury directed at my shitty, shitty housemates. Some of that resentment may shine through in the headcanons. Also naughty words, NSFW themes with Dazai

note: hey y'all. i know it's not a request but it's the best i've got right now. law school and depression are kicking my ass. y'know that meme with the tiny man, and then the two buff dudes start beating the shit out of him? that's law school and depression with me. as always apologies for errors and i hope you enjoy x

Atsushi:

Help he's so sweet and awkward all the time?? Always gives you a little wave or a smile and nod when you pass each other in the halls

He buys candies and chocolates and things and leave them in a bowl on the table for people to take if they want :')

When his roommates feels sad he takes the time to hang out with them and help them through whatever problem they're having

In the morning when he comes into the kitchen to make breakfast he's all yawny and has a scruffy bedhead and it's SO cute

He doesn't do it consciously, but on occasion Atsushi will fall asleep on the couch, and even more occasionally he'll transform into Byakko in his sleep. You get used to it after a while, but you can't really invite friends over unless you know Atsushi is in his room or out of the house T-T

But he really is so sweet. If you bring someone over they develop a crush on him immediately, but of course he's oblivious. After they leave he turns to you and is like 'aw your friend is nice' (they were hardcore flirting with him)

If he ever has an issue with you or the house, he gets very nervous when bringing it up because he doesn't wanna cause any conflict (you could be smashing the plates on the ground every day and he'd be like 'hey so i'm super duper sorry to bother you like i really hate to nag but-')

My mans. Is doing. His BEST

Dazai:

Screw you.

Holy shit this guy is an absolute nightmare to live with. he'll drive you crazy within the week just because of how *little* he does around the house

He doesn't clean his dishes. He doesn't buy stuff for the house. He doesn't do a DAMN thing.

Preferably, if you're gonna be living with him, you'll also wanna bring Kunikida. He has his own issues but at least then there's a balance between a chore-driven man and the embodiment of sloth, the deadly sin

He will stumble through the front door at 3am with unkempt clothes and the stink of alcohol on him. and he won't bother trying to be subtle or quiet either. Just crashes around until he pukes on the floor and falls asleep on the couch

At least he flushes (more than I can say for my housemates /gen)

He drinks in the house, and leaves bottles everywhere. The entire place is damn near bordering a safety hazard because of all the glass

Tries to cook but absolutely can't do it- he sets fires, ruins the kitchen, etc etc. It wouldn't be unreasonable for you to assume that all takeout packaging and pizza boxes you find strewn around the house belongs to him

He's fully up for a secret hookup if you're into that, though. Just give his door a knock after 11pm and you're in

Kunikida:

This guy is both a saint and a total pain in the arse

On one hand, he does his chores and he does them literally perfectly. Is there even a perfect way to wash the dishes? There is now. Kunikida is here

On the other hand you can kiss your hopes of getting out of your own chores goodbye. This man makes a schedule. a chore chart. a system. he pulls out the whole nine yards

Thanks a lot DAZAI

Anyway, he has his merits. Kunikida brings it upon himself to bring up the slack (even if he doesn't want to) because he can't stand living in a messy space, so your home is always spick and span

He organises weekly or monthly meetings to discuss home affairs (he's a real Louis Moriarty, he will also make you omelettes)

Kunikida is also kind of a walking talking alarm clock- he wakes you up in the morning if you're not up by a certain time, and also gives you a lights out time at night when he deems it bedtime

He pretends that this is just a part of routine and etiquette and whatever- in reality, he just really cares about your health and wants you to get enough sleep and keep a consistent routine

He also encourages you to go out if you're an introvert because "staying inside all the time is bad for you". Damnit Kunikida

Yosano:

Oh she's so great to live with

Every time you run into her you two always end up bitching to each other about something. She's the ultimate bitch buddy

If you get sick she takes on the role of home doctor, quarantines you in your room, and tends to you until you're well again. Or, if she doesn't like you, she just chops you up and gets it over with lmao

Yosano drinks a lot though. You eventually get used to falling asleep to the sounds of crashing, whirring chainsaws and maniacal laughter from the next room over

She takes AGES in the bathroom, so you really ought to keep a bucket on hand or something just in case. Like this woman will be in there for hours on end (RIP your water bill)

She also always takes up the phone line because she's a lil social butterfly (RIP your phone bill) but she'll also take your phone calls for you if you don't like talking on the phone so there's that

Yosano is really sweet but she always leaves her stuff laying around. Like there'll just be patient portfolios and medical tools in the living room?? Girl

Some nights she comes home with a bigass pizza in her hand and a bottle of wine in the other, and you know you're in for a GOOD time

If you ever need some spare cash she'll give it to you but if you take too long to pay her back she WILL chop you up so beware

Tanizaki:

He's a perfectly adequate roommate.

In all honesty there's barely anything to say about Tanizaki. He does his chores, respects his roommates, helps them if they need help, etc etc. He's just a real stand up guy!

Though I HC that Tanizaki gets sick pretty easily, so he can sometimes be seen wandering the house with a pale face wrapped in a blanket making sad boy noises

He gives you lifts as long as you're able to provide gas money (or McDonalds, either works as payment)

He doesn't usually accept invitations to go out drinking, but he's more than happy to grab a coffee with you if time permits it. He's just a responsible guy 😌 (if you don't have time he'll also bring you a coffee because he's just that nice)

Tanizaki always has backup stuff in case you guys run out of anything. This man basically has a bunker's worth of extra supplies for literally no reason, but hey free stuff!

He likes to make dinner for you sometimes, and you guys eat together and chat (it's something he grew used to while living with Naomi)

He's always happy to lend you his stuff if you ever run out of things (because of Naomi he even keeps backup menstrual stuff on hand, so you vagina owners are all safe)

You guys definitely do face masks and manicures together too

Naomi:

Naomi might, literally, be the roommate ever

She does her chores, she keeps quiet at night, she lets you know if she's bringing people over. Her only flaw is that she's always talking about her brother. Naomi please

She's also very vocal whenever her brother's in the house. What are they doing ffs

She bakes cupcakes and cookies and stuff each week for her roommates

She also brings around her friends sometimes for movie nights, and if you come into the living room she invites you to watch movies with her and her friends

Naomi honestly invites you to everything. Parties, gatherings, hanging out with friends- she's a true extrovert and will adopt you if you're an introvert, you have no choice sry :/

She also decorates the place really well- in all honesty she really did miss her calling as an interior designer because miss girl makes your home look CLASS

Naomi is the roommate you go to when you're preparing for a date and you need help with your outfit or nerves. She's like the ultimate wingwoman fr

She also buys incense and air freshener so your house smells nice as FUCK

Ranpo:

He's almost as bad as Dazai, aside from the fact that he can respect rules, and so (although begrudgingly and with a lot of whining) he actually does his chores

If you all live together he steals all of the candy Atsushi left out for everyone :(

Basically lives in his pyjamas. He gets home from work and immediately gets changed into his jammies

He also hogs the TV and won't let you watch Netflix until his own shows are finished :( and he also judges you for your taste in TV regardless of what it is

Ranpo never cooks for himself or you, but he LOVES when you cook for him. It makes him feel so special

You guys also get takeout all the time. You make a tradition of it and get different stuff on different days. It becomes a part of the autism routine and now you're stuck wasting your money (haha)

You also have to take him places and accompany him everywhere because he knows fuck all about taking the train. You basically live life around Ranpo's (annoying spontaneous) schedule

He uses too much soap in the shower and gets bubbles all over the bathroom, but at least he smells nice?

He does all the house paperwork, so silver lining and all

Fukuzawa:

He's lowkey kind of scary 😔

Like, he's a really respectful roommate who does his chores and pays mind to his living companions, but he also just like barely comes out of his room or talks to anyone.

Plus, detective daddy kinda has a massive case of RBF which really isn't helping

That being said, he will make tea for you if you feel blue, and he'll sit in your room and silently listen to you complain about your issues for hours. The PATIENCE of this man

He randomly does really sweet stuff for you without saying a word about it. Replaces broken stuff, makes you pancakes in the morning etc.

Fukuzawa tends to work late hours so he's often awake late in the night. He enjoys when you keep him company on your sleepless nights, and will give you a blanket if you end up falling asleep in his bed or on the couch

He's also super neat and never touches your stuff without asking <3

He knocks on your bedroom door and the bathroom door every single time, just in case, and he never enters unless you give him the heads up

His own door is never locked in case you need him too. Or in case there's a break-in. Good luck to that person fr

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen, @call-me-albie, @sayyestoheaven00

[pseudowho]

My next Smutfic...

...I'm going to use all Tier 5 to 6 synonyms for a penis, and see if it's still sexy.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento lifted you against the wall, his thigh between your legs as you squeaked in alarm, pleasure pooling deep in your belly. His schlong dongadoodle was now so apparent, rock solid against his thigh.

"Tell me," he rumbled, low and mesmerising against your throat, "do you want my custard launcher in your pussy...or your mouth?"

"In-- in my mouth--" you choked out, "I want your purple-helmeted warrior of love in my mouth, Kento."

Forcing you to your knees, your mouth watered at the sight of Kento's tan banana against your lips-- and Kento gave you exactly what you had asked for.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Ah--shit--" Ino groaned, gripping you by the fat of your hips as you sunk down onto his beaver basher.

You shook and mewled, his heat-seeking moisture missile stretching your plush, velvet walls so nicely. You had always loved how his mayo-shooting hotdog gun felt as it kissed your cervix, so deep, so sweet as Ino plaited his fingers behind your neck and pulled you in, his kiss breath-stealing and honest.

"Only for you," Ino whimpered as you rocked your hips on his Little Ino, "this steamin' semen truck is only for you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Take it-- take it-- hnnnng--" Higuruma's seed shot deep into your pussy, his meter long king kong dong pulsing as he moaned, his thighs flush against your arse.

You moved to pull away, exhausted and shaking; Hiromi gripped your thighs, holding you in place, his yoghurt shotgun still hard inside you; "Don't move," he croaked, voice breaking from the strength of his orgasm, "my baloney pony stays until I'm finished with you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Come on pretty girl-- I know my single barrelled pump-action bollock's the biggest you've ever had, but-- haah-- don't cry."

Gojo folded your thighs hard against your chest as you cried with pleasure and pain, his beef whistle pounding into you at a relentless pace. Tears streamed into your hair as you begged.

"Satoru-- your thundersword-- please--"

Gojo pulled out, his spawn hammer dripping precum as he stroked it, flipping you onto your belly before slamming back into you so powerfully that you squealed.

"Thought we were done? Plenty more left in this whoopie stick yet, sweetheart."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Inumaki's breath trembled with anticipation; there you were, eyes full of tears, pink lips parted just for him, and he couldn't deny himself from leaning down and kissing you sweetly, his lips usually so forbidden, and now electric against yours. You kissed him back, leaving him breathless, pulling away with a gasp.

"Wing wang doodle," he murmured, his breath fanning warmly over your mouth. Your eyes pricked with tears, wishing you could communicate in more than just penis synonyms.

Inumaki's thumb brushed softly over your eyes, his meeting yours in silent understanding; "Piss weasel," he reassured softly. You nodded, nose against his as you gave him a watery smile.

"Baby arm. Flesh flute," he whispered against your lips; with those words, you knew you were done for, finally caving to stay the night as he pressed you gently back onto his bed.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I write because they understandably won't let me out of the house anymore.

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

[burntsaltsblog]

shiny new toy

(felix catton\reader)

chapter five

details: a saltburn inspired short story.

content warning: profanity, explicit sexual content, and mentions of abuse (physical and mental)

warning for this chapter: this chapter depicts explicit sexual content. if you are not an adult, DO NOT READ!!!

MNI 18+

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"I heard he fucked his cousin."

Everyone collectively groaned as Felix reached up to cover my ears with his hands. I playfully batted them away as I giggled at his protectiveness. 

"Farleigh, I will pay you to stop talking," Felix said as he gave up on prohibiting my hearing. He wrapped a possessive arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and tucking me into his side like I was before Farleigh spewed such ridiculous information. 

"That can be arranged," Farleigh replied. "Though, you should know I will only accept payment in diamonds and gold bars. But that shouldn't be too difficult for you." An impish smile was painted on his face, which glowed under the sun that graciously shone down on us. We had gathered at a table on the quad during a brief break between classes. 

Felix rolled his eyes as his fingers lightly traced my arm, raising goosebumps under my shirt. I snuggled closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, feeling content. 

Life had been good. I hadn't seen Eric since he attacked me a month ago, and a couple of days after the gruesome event, he was kicked out of school for possessing multiple "illegal substances." I had a feeling Felix had something to do with that. Usually, my moral compass would cause me to feel poorly about someone being falsely accused of something. But I didn't care how Felix got rid of Eric in this case. I was just glad he was gone. 

"Mum has a fat ruby that she keeps locked up at home that I think you'd quite like, but knowing you, you'll shove it up your arse at one of your orgies," Venetia snickered.  

"Wait, you have orgies?" I asked, joining the conversation. "That oddly makes sense." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Farleigh shot back, turning his attention on me with a sharp raise of his sculpted brow.

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Venetia and I exchanged glances before we burst out laughing. Farleigh tried to retain a sour expression, but I didn't miss how his mouth curled up on one side, showing his true feelings. I stole a quick look at Felix and saw him chuckling. He was relieved to see me getting along with his sister and cousin. It had taken some time, but I was finally accepted into the group, and I could hardly contain my joy. For the first time, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. 

"Shit," Venetia cursed harshly, wiping away the happy haze that had surrounded our small group. "I'm late for my next tutorial. I don't know why I signed up for History of the Theatre. I don't give a fuck about the theatre." 

"Is it on Madison Road?" Farleigh asked.

"Yup. I'm going to ruin my new Dior shoes walking over there," she whined.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Daddy will buy you a new pair," Farleigh muttered. "Anyways, I have a class over there later this afternoon, so I'll walk with you. That way, you won't have to face the death of your shoes alone." 

"You're too kind, cousin." 

After gathering their belongings, they stood in unison and bid us farewell, immediately falling in step together as they departed. Like always, their heads gravitated towards each other, almost touching as they prattled back and forth about various topics, such as a classmate caught wearing a dreadful array of clothing or the latest scandal involving two teachers hooking up in an empty lecture hall. Felix and I watched them cross the grassy quad before they took a sharp turn behind a building, rendering them impossible to see.  

"I'm glad you all are getting along. I was worried for a bit that they wouldn't come around. Especially Farleigh," Felix said quietly. 

I peered at the crease between his brows and placed a finger there, attempting to smooth the lines and ease the tension on his ethereal face. 

"I know me too. But it seems my irresistible charm finally won them over."

Felix smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He then grasped my chin in his hand, bringing my mouth to meet his in a tender kiss. I sighed happily against his lips before I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our embrace. Using my teeth, I dragged his bottom lip out, and a deep moan spilled from Felix's throat.

"Fuck," he whimpered. The sound shot straight to my core, and I gazed around quickly before I stood, pulling my boyfriend with me. 

"Come with me," I said, lacing our fingers together. 

"Where are we going?" he questioned skeptically, sensing I had something mischievous up my sleeve. 

"You'll see," I grinned as I quickly walked to a clump of trees in the far corner of the quad with Felix in tow. It was void of any classmates, and my blood surged with anticipation. The trees were arranged in a particular fashion that would prohibit anyone from breaching our privacy if we huddled behind them. 

I had been eyeing this spot for weeks and was waiting for the opportunity to bring Felix here. He had let it slip a while back that he occasionally liked to mess around in semi-public spots. But he had made it clear that he wanted to respect my limits and not force me into anything I was uncomfortable with. Since then, I have been searching for the ideal place that was considered public but not so out in the open that we still had an essence of seclusion.

Felix and I reached the group of trees, and I immediately pushed him up against the bark of one and rose onto my tiptoes, brandishing his lips with a searing kiss. He reacted just as I had hoped and wrapped his arms around my waist before greedily palming my ass. I could already feel him hardening against my stomach, and I pulled away, licking my lips. I gazed up at him wide-eyed as I sank to my knees. 

I watched his pupils dilate before he glanced around to ensure we were hidden from any passerby's view. "Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

I kept my eyes locked with Felix's as I slowly pulled down the zipper of his jeans and ran my fingers along the waistband of his boxers. "I'm sure. I want to make you feel good. Can I do that, Daddy? Please?"

Felix swallowed as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Ok, darling. Show me those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

I didn't bother to conceal my smirk as I slipped my hand into his boxers and wrapped my hand around his hard length. I never doubted my ability to convince him of this escapade. 

As I eased Felix's shaft from the confinement of his boxers, his head fell back against the tree, and I watched in wonder at the sharp line of his jaw and the smooth skin that encompassed his throat. He breathed deeply as I slowly licked from the base of his length to his swollen, red tip that was already leaking pre-cum. My mouth watered at the sight, and I eagerly swirled it around with my tongue before swallowing. 

"Jesus Christ. You're going to be the death of me," Felix gasped as he ran his fingers through my hair, creating a makeshift ponytail, urging me to take him in my mouth. 

"I can't think of worse ways to die."

My smile was wicked before I closed my lips around his tip and sucked, earning a moan from the man above me. One of his hands came to rest on the side of my jaw, and I took that as my cue to ease more of his length into my mouth. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Take my cock like the little whore you are."

I groaned around him, which caused my throat to vibrate in the most glorious way for Felix. With both hands back in my hair, he tugged me forward so his length began descending down my throat. As a natural reaction, I started choking, and my eyes watered, making my vision of Felix blur, and I whined softly. 

"I know, darling. Your throat is so full of me, but you'll be a good girl and take it because you want to please me."

Tears ran down my face, and I knew my mascara was surely smudged around my eyes, which Felix loved. He said I never looked prettier than when my makeup was ruined, and my mouth was stuffed with his cock.

Felix pulled himself out of my mouth, much to my dismay, and said, "I'm going to fuck your throat, sweetheart, and then I'm going to cum, and you'll swallow every drop like a good girl. Do you understand?"

I nodded, but Felix pulled my hair, eliciting a whimper from me as my scalp burned. "Use your words, pretty girl-"

"Yes, please, Felix. Use my mouth and throat however you want. I don't care; I just want to make you feel good."

Felix smiled smugly, pleased with my needy behavior. He lined himself up at my lips, and I promptly parted them. His length filled my mouth once again before he pulled out and hastily thrust back in. He soon found a pace that was both punishing and pleasurable, and each time he entered my mouth, his cock eased farther down my throat until I couldn't take any more of him. I drew my hands behind my back as Felix had taught me to do whenever he was using my mouth. I loved showing him how I could remember to be obedient. 

His fingers dug into the base of my skull, and drool began dripping down my chin and covering my neck. I hollowed out my cheeks as Felix increased his pace.

"That's it. Just like that," Felix praised. His voice was tight, and I knew it was mere seconds before he would climax. I pulled my hands from where they rested behind my back and cupped his balls, gently squeezing them to send him over the edge. 

A low, guttural cry left his mouth as hot ropes of cum shot down my throat, and I eagerly swallowed, not wanting to waste a single drop. Above me, Felix panted heavily as he leaned against the tree behind him and gently messaged my scalp to soothe the lingering ache of his rough actions.

"You did so good for me, darling. I'm so proud of you," he whispered as he gently pulled out of my mouth and quickly tucked himself back into his pants. He guided me to my feet and directly into his warm embrace, and I nuzzled my face in his neck and inhaled, breathing in his familiar scent—a combination of his usual cologne and pure Felix. 

He drew random shapes on my back as he held me in his arms and continued to mutter soft words of praise. I would've gladly stayed here forever, but the annoying reminder that I had class popped into my head, and I groaned into the confines of Felix's chest. 

"What is it, lovely?" he murmured.

"I have class." 

I glanced at the small, gold watch wrapped around my wrist, a recent present from Felix, and saw I only had three minutes to get to a lecture all the way across campus. But I only had myself to blame, considering it was my idea to bring him here and fool around.

"I have a better idea."

I peered up at Felix with curious eyes. He gave me a chaste kiss before wrapping my hand in his calloused one and leading me away from the cover of the trees.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, trying to keep up with his long strides. I had an intense feeling of deja vu. 

Felix turned back to look at me playfully. "Back to my room."

"But what about class?"

"What about class? I say, we skip it."

We stopped walking and stood face to face. I tried fixing Felix with my most displeasing stare but failed terribly and gave into the smile that was fighting its way onto my face.  

"You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

"You love it."

I love you.

I closed my mouth before the words could fall out and gazed at the ground before looking back into his amber eyes and nodding as soft laughter shook my shoulders. "You're right. I do." I cupped his cheek and pulled his mouth down to mine. The kiss was short, yet it held many emotions and feelings I couldn't share. 

When we parted, Felix wore a sly expression. "I take that as a yes, then?"

I shook my head in defeat. "Yes, it is."

"Then right this way, m'lady," Felix announced with a teasing voice as he wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me toward his dormitory quarters. 

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"What are you doing for the summer?"

Felix had an arm flung across my back, holding me against him, and my head rested comfortably on his chest while he asked me about my summer plans. Our clothes had been shed when we entered Felix's room, and the only material covering our bodies now was a thin cotton sheet on his narrow dorm bed.  

I snuggled closer to him as I answered, "Home, I suppose. Though I can't say, I'm looking forward to it."

My mother died when I was nine, and since then, my father has run through a long list of wives. I felt like London Tipton with a new stepmother every other month. He recently divorced Synthia, my tenth stepmother, and was already courting number eleven. I would miss number ten, though. Oxford had hosted a family day a few months ago, and of course, my father failed to make an appearance, but Synthia happily showed up in his place. She was the first stepmother to make an effort in a long time, so I was bitter that my father had dumped her, and I was already planning on hating number eleven no matter how "great" she was. 

"Hmm," Felix hummed as he traced the outline of my shoulder blade. He seemed deep in thought when I tilted my head up to see his face. His brow furrowed, and he bit his lip before swiping his tongue across it. I would've used that small action as a reason to pounce on him for the third time that day, but I was too curious about the thoughts I could see circulating his mind. 

Felix met my eyes, and for the first time, I saw shyness inhibit his features. Bashfulness was not a typical trait for Felix, so I was immediately concerned. "What's on your mind, baby?" I asked as I brushed my hand across his cheek comfortingly.

"I..." He smiled sheepishly as his gaze shot downward. "I was wondering if you'd like to spend the summer with me. At Saltburn."

"Saltburn?"

"Yeah, that's the name of my family's estate. It's where Venetia, Farleigh, and I always spend the summer, and I'd like it if you joined us this year."

I could feel the surprise cross my face, which quickly turned to excitement as I stared at Felix, trying to find words to formulate a response. I knew we hadn't been together long, but what I felt for him was so intense and passionate that spending an entire summer without his warm, consuming presence would drive me mad. I would gladly spend the summer with him anywhere, whether it was a deserted island or his family's estate. 

Felix looked at me with a hopeful expression; his eyes searched my face anxiously, and I saw his relief when I finally replied. "I would love to, Felix." 

"Really?" He became giddy as he sat up. I joined him in a seated position and grasped his hands. 

"Yes. I couldn't bear being without you for the whole summer. It would be pure torture. Plus, I love our little group and can hardly imagine spending the break without Farleigh or Venetia-"

Felix kissed me unexpectedly, swallowing the rest of my sentence. His hands cradled the back of my head before he drew back and sprang up from his bed. He began haphazardly searching for his clothes as he rambled his plans. "I must phone Mum and Dad right away. They knew I was going to ask you, and I've got to tell them you're coming so Duncan has plenty of time to prepare the room next to mine. Of course, you can stay in my room, but Mum prefers everyone to have a certain level of propriety and decorum at Saltburn. I mean, I'm not even allowed to wear my fucking stud there. But it's ok because a bathroom will connect our rooms, so you can sneak over without ever being caught."

Felix was panting by the time he finished his speech. Fully dressed, he rushed back to his bed, falling beside me and covering my face with kisses. I giggled before he captured my lips in a deep, slow kiss. Gone was his high level of energy as he claimed my mouth most sensually. Reluctantly, we parted, and a smile, so happy, so joyful, stretched across his beautiful face. He radiated pure bliss.

"I'll be right back." He pecked me lightly on my nose before grabbing his cell phone and departing from the room, shutting the door softly behind him. 

I fell back into his bed and stretched my arms above my head. Elation soared through my body, and I turned my head, spotting the pack of cigarettes and lighter on my boyfriend's bedside table. I had never smoked before meeting Felix, and when I tried it for the first time, I was quickly scolded by him as he said, "You're lungs are too pretty to be damaged by smoke. Give it to me, darling." I had made a show of pouting as I claimed that he had made it look so sexy, and I had just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. 

I had tried to convince Felix that I was not interested in anyone telling me what not to do, but I secretly adored how much he cared for me and how my well-being was at the top of his priority list. I had only attempted smoking twice since then, and both times, Felix had promptly hauled me back to his room to "teach me a lesson" for not listening to him. I thoroughly enjoyed both "lessons." 

The cigarette was balanced between my lips as I expertly picked up the lighter, flicked the flame to life, and held it to the end of the small, white stick. I breathed in deeply, relishing the way the nicotine reminded me of Felix. Memories traveled to the forefront of my mind of him wrapping his mouth around his own cig and effortlessly inhaling. The images caused my pussy to clench painfully, and I squeezed my legs together tightly. I had spent most of the day in bed with Felix, but I still craved him. I was insatiable when it came to Felix Catton.  

Well, speak of the Devil. I saw the doorknob turn before Felix's tall form appeared in the doorway. His eyes immediately honed in on the small object between my lips, and they darkened. "I thought you had finally learned your lesson last time. At least, that's what you promised me when you were on the brink of cumming with a red ass and tears falling from those pretty eyes."

I audibly swallowed as I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and exhaled, letting a puff of smoke spill from my lips. "I don't know what you're talking about," I innocently said before taking another drag.

It took Felix three strides to reach my side and pull the cigarette from my mouth. He harshly ground it in his ashtray before flipping me over onto my stomach. "I guess I won't be as nice this time since you're so intent on being disobedient."

I gazed at him over my shoulder as I felt my pussy flood with wetness. There was no way I was making it to any of my classes today.

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chapter index

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

[withtheoldstars]

the girls are fighting (just sirius and regulus being brothers)

"Stay the fuck hell out of my room!" Regulus yelled, trying to shove his brother out, but Sirius wouldn't fucking budge. "Quit stealing my shit, arse-face!" Sirius yelled back, just as loud. He dodged Regulus and grabbed the black jumper from the top of Regulus' bed, while Regulus followed suit, clutching the other end of the garment. "I'm planning on wearing it today," he complained, on the verge of punching his brother. "And I'm pretty bloody sure I bought it, and you nicked it from my dresser." "This is literally mine, you little cunt," Sirius growled, tugging on the jumper. Regulus pulled back. "I want to wear it. It's soft." "It better be! It's fucking cashmere," Sirius retorted, pulling harder. "It looks better on me," Regulus asserted, refusing to let go. "You fucking wish," Sirius laughed without humour.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 12: ~

Operation Spy Part 1:

Here we go. The moment we've all been waiting for. The rescue. How will it go? Knowing this lot...

Step 1. Grab the yellow paint and mark the infected containers.

Step 2. Load the infected inside.

Step 3. Get back to the mainland.

Step 4. ...

Well, we'll see what happens afterwards.

Brodie and Roper waited at the Under Rig. They watched the horizon. An outline of a cargo ship came into view. It was a strange feeling. They were all so relieved because this was it - they were going home - but how can you just walk away from this? Easy. You don't.

The pair had to count their lucky stars. They weren't dead like Gregor or turned into something no one thought possible like Rennick. They can still have a normal life. Until then, they just had to go through an investigation, followed by a debriefing and possible firing from Cadal to cover their own arse. It's not like anyone here would care. If Cadal was thinking about sending anyone here to another rig, then they had another thing coming.

'So, what's your plan, Roper?'

'I think I'm going to take myself and the misses on that long needed holiday to Spain. What about you?'

'Take myself and Raffs back to Skye and...'Brodie shrugged. 'I dunno. Rethink my life choices.'

Roper wasn't daft. He was basically the crew's therapist when he wasn't manning Marine Control, and he knew something was bothering Brodie. Which was an oddity in and of itself because nothing bothered him. He was a father figure to most of the younger lads here, especially Raffs. Brodie's known him since he was a child. Roper's eyes lingered towards Brodie's crossed arms. His hands gripped to the sleeves as if he were hanging onto them for dear life. His breathing was laboured, which he'd just pass off as the cold.

'Don't blame yourself,' Roper said. Brodie's shoulders and jaw tensed. 'Raffs is fine. You're fine.'

'I know.' Brodie spoke through gritted teeth. 'But, I shouldn't have let him go down there.'

'He wasn't infected.'

'The lad wasn't ready.'

'Yes, he was, Brods. If none of this happened, he'd be going head first back into that diving bell. Give him time. He'll tell you what he wants.'

Of course, Roper was right, and with a supportive pat on the shoulder, he made his way to the Deck for an update. Brodie continued to watch the cargo ship come into view and took a deep breath to help himself relax.

'He's right.' Raffs' voice broke Brodie out of his spell. The pair had failed to notice that the young man was just around the corner. He approached and leaned against the railing. He seemed happier today. More relaxed. His wide eyes were calm, and his hands weren't shaking. 'I mean - Yeah, I was terrified, but I knew I was safe. Plus, I did hit my head in there. Of course, I'm going to be shak-'

Brodie didn't let Raffs finish his sentence. He just grabbed the young man he saw as his son and held him close. Raffs knew what this was. He's felt this crushing hug before, where Brodie kept him close and refused to let go. The last time he felt it was when Raffs nearly fell down the stairs carrying one side of a dresser. You couldn't fight it either. Any second now...

'I'm sorry.'

There it is.

Raffs returned the hug, though he could never have the strength of Brodie. 'I'm fine,' he said with reassurance whilst he pulled away. 'Just needed to wrap my head around all this.' Brodie's heard that excuse before, but he'll take his word for it. As long as he was okay.

The same couldn't be said for Muir.

Anxiety suddenly gripped him, and the heartbeats he could hear weren't helping. If this was his power from The Shape, then it was frankly shit. The excitement from everyone made him uneasy. There was no warning. The anxiety just came knocking on the door before kicking it down. Muir's mind began to race with ridiculous possibilities. What if the ship sank? What if the police are waiting for Caz to just shoot him? What if The Shape isn't really dead and it'll follow them to the mainland? What if he's taken away and he never gets to see Innes again?

Muir held his breath with a thousand yard stare. No one seemed to notice. Not even Innes, who came into the container with a backpack he left for his partner. All of Muir's eyes turned to him, yet his head stayed seated in the same position.

'Alright. That's all of your stuff.' Like everyone else, Innes was happy. 'Yes. I brought the bloody harmonica before you ask. But don't go playing it until we get ye home.' Muir didn't answer and continued to stare. His mind wouldn't shut up. Everyone's heartbeats drowned out whatever Innes said. It was an echo for him. Everything began to blur. Not because The Shape had suddenly returned, but because he was crying. Muir could finally allow himself to breathe again. Innes looked, and his smile dropped. 'Muir?' He felt a tendril wrap around his hand, and he instinctively began to stroke it with his thumb.

'Please don't go.'

Innes frowned. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'Stay in here with me.' A pause. 'What if this doesn't work? And what if I'm taken away, never to be seen again?'

'I think that's impossible.'

'Innes, please!' Muir snapped as he began to tighten his grip on Innes and shook his head, because he couldn't run a hand through his hair anymore. 'I don't want to be on my own.'

Innes moved towards him and wiped Muir's tears away. Muir hugged and pulled him closer for him to rest his head on his shoulders. Of course, Innes allowed it and, in return, gave Muir a kiss. 'Alright... Alright, Muir. I'll stay, but we have to be quiet.' Muir nodded before buring his head into Innes.

The pair were so worked up in themselves that they didn't notice Gibbo, Trots, and Roy watching. None of them were surprised. They all suspected something for a while. I'm glad to see they had their confirmation.

Roy often wondered what that felt like. To love someone so near and dear in that way. He's loved friends and family, but nothing you could conclude to be romantic. His only real love outside of that would be football and cooking. He caught on that the three were just staring at this point and gave Gibbo and Trots a small tap.

'Right, you two, get in.'

With their belongings tucked away in the corner, Gibbo, being bigger of the pair, went first and soon settled by using his bag as a pillow. Trots soon followed and didn't exactly know what to do with himself. He had this coat pocket, but it was just awkward for him. Like Rennick, he felt like a rescue horse being led to a stable.

'Hope you don't mind me sharing with you, Gibs.'

'As long as there's no Cadal this or Cadal that.'

'Oh no, this has made it worse,' Roy laughed. 'But hey, if he gets bored, Animal Farm is in his bag.' It wasn't. Trots knew it wasn't. The comment got Gibbo laughing. Trots just smirked before using the tendrils to make himself taller before giving Roy a quick shove on the shoulder with a chuff.

'Off with ya, ya prick.'

'Seya on the other side, lads.'

Of course, the men weren't in complete darkness. Along with the sun coming through at the bottom of the door, Caz and Finlay made some adjustments to the containers, other than paint. A few holes for the natural light. No one thought about possible rain, though.

'Are you really going to use your infection to get a Union?' Gibbo asked out of curiosity.

'Of course,' Trots said. 'How can they say 'no' to this?'

'Ah Christ.' Maybe Gibbo should have taken Rennick as his container-mate. He made his stance known by grabbing Trot's bag and holding it over his head like a pillow trying to block out the noise.

'Right, you two Roasters,' Finlay said in her usual tone that commanded your attention. She was never scared to use it towards Rennick and Addair before, and them being infected didn't change that. The pair awkwardly stood in their own shared container. 'I better not hear a peep out of either of you.'

'I want off this rig, Finlay,' Rennick said in that tone when you're about to get an earful. 'Why the fuck, do you think I'm gonna be loud?!'

'Because you always have to get the last word.'

'Then give me my own container.'

'No. We take you in pairs. Muir's too big for anyone else.' Except Trots, but wanted to be with Gibbo. 'Now keep ye' voices down, or I'll come in there and ring both of ya necks.'

Was Rennick scared of Finaly? No. Was Addair scared of Finlay? Also, no. But, the pair had to admire her attitude, even if they didn't like being spoken to like this. She always carried herself with authority and had bigger balls than most of the men here. Even if she couldn't swim.

'Hey Finlay?' Addair called as she began to close the door. Finlay stopped and listened. 'Why did the military say no to you?'

'Because they don't take women. Is that why they refused you, Addair?'

With that, the door shut, and Finlay could finally feel her blood pressure return to normal. Faint snickering from Rennick could be heard through the metal, followed by a small smack. She spotted Roper and gave a thumbs up, who gave one in return.

Within minutes, the cargo ship docked beside them, and a man stepped off and onto the walkway that connected to the rig. Thankfully, the sea was calm this afternoon. Roper went to greet him.

'Are you Rennick?' He asked.

'No,' Roper said. 'We did a headcount. We lost him.'

'Didn't take a lifeboat?'

'Considering none of them worked, the answer's no.'

The man noticed the exhausted look in Roper's eyes. He was putting it on just so they could leave faster. They then noticed the amount of holes and smashed windows were on Beria. And this was only one part. Their eyes went wide and confused as they scanned the rig before looking to Roper for answers, who exchanged a look that said, 'I know.'

Nothing else needed to be said. The man gave a nod of approval. 'Oh, and we still have some equipment that Cadal will want back.'

'Will they?'

'Do you want to pay for anything we lose?' Seems Caz's sarcasm had finally rubbed off on Roper.

'Fair enough.' He turned and called to his crew. 'Get the crane going!'

And breathe.

Soon, the crew of Beria were safely secured on the cargo. The infected were all sat next to each other, but the equipment sat on top. So much for the holes to give them sunlight. Maybe they could see in the dark?

Caz found himself watching the containers from the safety of Bridge. He couldn't feel their presence from this distance, and it left him on edge. He hoped they were okay. Yes, even Rennick and Addair. He turned and, along with the others, watched the Beria slowly disappear from view.

'Good riddance.'