#i'm turning into a grumpy old lady at this point

[ladyinthebluebox]

oh god i'm so sick of people's ideas of what Taash should or shouldn't have been. please. just. let them be as they are.

[gurugirl]

DILF | older!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/n meets an older man at a bar and she's not taking no for an answer. Harry likes her persistence.

A/N: This was requested + this! Also, please think before you judge Y/n. She is very bold and confident in this. Maybe even a little pushy but Harry likes it (even if at first he doesn't give that impression). Also he's single so this isn't cheatrry!

Word Count: 6,580

Warning: age gap, smut, alcohol consumption (light)

. .

"That one. Total dilf. He looks grumpy. Bet you can't crack him."

Y/n laughed at her friend and looked down at her red-painted nails before narrowing her gaze on the attractive older man who was seated at the corner of the bar alone. He was nursing a whisky and he did look rather sullen. Unapproachable even.

"Why him?"

"Because he's hot. And I'm curious to see if you can get him to smile at least," Warren raised her brows, "I dare you."

Y/n tilted her head and assessed him. He was nice and big, taking up a decent amount of space at the bar, broad shoulders and back hunched as he leaned his muscular forearms on the wood of the bar top. Meaty hands placed on either side of his lowball glass. Thick brown waves on top of his head with a bit of silver coming in at the temples. But the handsome features on his face really set him apart. His granite jawline gave way to stubble that stretched over his skin and shaded in the spaces around his pink lips.

If she could "crack" him she wasn't sure she'd want just a smile. He looked yummy enough to eat.

Drinking down the last of her martini she pointed at Warren and then Tara, "Fine. Give me twenty minutes and I'll have him eating from the palm of my hand."

Tara laughed, "If you say so…"

She placed her heeled feet down on the floor and brushed her hands over her dress, "Oh, I do say so. Just watch and learn, ladies."

Y/n wasn't quite that confident, but she wasn't about to say no to dare. And she could hold her own when it came to flirting. She liked getting a little attention and if she could garner this one's interest it might be fun.

She sauntered up to the bar behind the man and noticed the way his t-shirt stretched over his lats and tapered loosely down at his waist. The guy was fit. And lucky her, there was an open stool next to him.

Sliding onto the seat she waved at the bartender to order another drink. She'd need all the courage she could get, in whatever form she could get it.

Tapping her long nails on the lacquered wood she felt nerves thrumming through veins before turning toward the man finally. He hadn't seemed to take note of her yet, which honestly was unusual in most cases. Maybe she thought too highly of herself but men tended to notice her right away. She appreciated the challenge, though.

Reaching her hand into his space to greet him, she pushed down her nerves to sound steady as she spoke, "I'm Y/n."

She watched his brow furrow as he turned to look at her hand and then up at her eyes, his expression, which she expected would soften once he looked at her, was unamused. A single light overhead lit the tops of their heads as a shadow cast over the side of his face and he didn't make a move to shake her hand, "And I'm old enough to be your dad."

A surprised scoff fell from her lips as she moved her hand away from him. She wiggled in her seat and crossed her leg over her thigh toward him, gulping down the initial rejection with as much grace as she could muster, "I think you're jumping to conclusions about my intentions. But so what if you're older than me? I don't mind. We're both adults, right?"

An unimpressed grunt rumbled from his throat before he took another sip of his whisky and he looked away from her toward the TV that hung not far away from where they sat.

The bartender placed her olive martini down on the bar in front of her, "It'll be on Y/n Y/l/n. I already have an open tab."

A sip of the salty drink felt warm down her throat. So he was going to be a bit tough to crack. She turned to look at her friends who were grinning in her direction.

Straightening her back to feel more confident she tried again, "So you're not gonna tell me your name even?"

Without looking at her, he licked his lips and ticked his jaw, "Y/n, I think it's past your bedtime."

She smiled at that. He'd said her name, which meant he'd been listening, "My bedtime is whenever I say it is, not when some grouchy stranger says."

He puffed out an amused laugh through his nose, "I am a stranger. Which means you should be cautious, little girl. Your dad didn't teach you about things like that?" He turned to look down at her again, and that time she saw the soft green color of his eyes as the light hit his face just right.

But now she was really determined. She smiled brightly at him and let her eyes coast over his tattooed arm and then back up to his face, "Are you telling me you're dangerous?"

He still didn't smile as he shook his head like he was surprised by her gall, "Do your parents know what you're up to tonight?"

"I'm 24. Graduated from college, live on my own, pay my bills, have a full-time job. You seem to be awfully worried about my parents. I can take care of myself just fine."

Just then another person sat down next to the man Y/n was trying to whittle away at. He poked his elbow at him, "Who's this?"

"Don't know. Someone who's about to go back to her table with her little girlfriends."

Biting her lip she traced the rim of her martini glass with her fingertip, keeping her eyes set on the handsome tattooed one, "Not even a smile. Just one? Please?"

"Like I already said, I'm way too old for you."

The other man leaned over and reached to tap Y/n's shoulder, "Hey. Forget about Harry, here. You can bring me home with you if you're looking for a daddy tonight."

She frowned and looked him up and down to asses. He was late 40s perhaps, wearing a local band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a backward cap to make himself appear a little more youthful. "No thanks. You'd know if I was interested in you."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at her retort. She was definitely too young but he liked her spunk.

"Now, Harry…" she said his name slowly as she leaned a little closer, "I've got your name thanks to your friend. Can I have a smile?"

"Why?" He stared down at her, the caress of his gaze felt infinite and she found her skin convecting in its wake. He might be hard to crack but this one would be worth it, she determined.

She sighed and slid her finger dangerously close to his wrist as he looked down at her nail and watched her trail it near his arm, "I just hoped to see you smile is all. Too handsome to have such a sour scowl on your face."

"And you're hardly old enough to be so confident to walk up to a strange man at a bar."

She laughed and tilted her head, "You planning on doing something bad to me, Harry?"

And that. That pulled a reaction out of him that spread over his features slowly as he shook his head in disbelief, "Darlin', you wouldn't be able to handle me."

Her eyes widened slightly. Now she was definitely not giving up. Y/n wasn't one to fail and Harry might be making her work hard for it but she couldn't imagine it wouldn't be worth it in the end.

"Is that a challenge or something?" She softly scraped her nail over his tattooed wrist and Harry watched her red nail work over his skin.

His resolve was fading fast. She could tell he wasn't going to keep denying her. And why should he? If he was single, which he appeared to be, what was the harm in having a little fun with someone younger? Y/n didn't mind. And he certainly shouldn't either.

"If it were a challenge you'd know it. Lots of other guys here, Y/n. Go enjoy your night with someone closer to your own age."

She sighed in annoyance. But he hadn't moved his arm away from her and she was going to take that as a sign.

Dragging the toe of her shoe into his shin she grinned, "I don't want to enjoy my night with someone my own age. Not tonight anyway. I think you've convinced me that I need to test out this theory of yours. That you think I can't handle you. Cause I bet I can."

With his eyes piercing into hers, he took another sip of his drink. She thought she might have just convinced him to give her a smile at the very least because it looked like he was weighing his options. And if she could get him to smile she might have luck with the rest.

He tilted his chin upward for a moment, eyes aimed at the ceiling like he was calling on a higher power for strength, "Go back to your friends, Y/n. Any other man here would love to have your company."

"But you wouldn't love to have my company?"

"I mean… I'm still here," the other man raised his hand and leaned into Harry, "Honey we could have so much fun. Any man who'd turn you down is either battin' for the other team or more likely," he chuckled and pushed his shoulder into Harry's teasingly, "He can't get it up anymore."

Y/n's mouth dropped open at that and Harry turned to look at the man. She wished she could see the look on his face, "Sit the fuck back down, John. She already told you she's not interested in you."

"Yeah, and you're not interested in her so what's it matter to you? Look at her, Harry. Practically begging you. Young and bubbly… Tight—"

Harry's hand covered John's throat as he pushed him away, nearly making his stool topple over, "Get the fuck outta here. You had too much whisky tonight."

"Aww… come on Harry… I was just jokin'!"

She watched as he stood from his stool and looked down at John, "And you thought that was funny? You like making jokes about women like that?"

The man put his hands up in surrender, "I'm out. Here…" he threw a wad of cash on the bar top before he moved past Harry and then looked at Y/n, "My apologies if I offended you."

They watched as John left the bar quickly and then Harry sat back down before he waved at the bartender and signaled for the check, "Just the one whisky neat."

"You're leaving already? Night's still young, Harry."

He sucked at his teeth as he scraped his gaze over her face and down to her cleavage. She smiled when she watched the path his eyes had taken.

The bartender handed him the bill and Harry leaned over to pull his wallet from his back pocket.

She scooted closer to him, "You headed home?"

He nodded, but not necessarily in answer to her question, it was more of an appraisal kind of nod. He was still silent as he pulled cash out of his wallet.

"Thanks for that, by the way. I'm sure John's a nice guy and all but he's not really my type. And I'm sure he was wrong about you."

That got his attention. Harry flicked his gaze back to hers, "Wrong about me?"

She smiled, "The part where he said you couldn't get it up. You're not that old. I'm sure you still can. Right?"

He clenched his jaw and breathed out of his nostrils like he couldn't believe she'd asked him such a thing. He handed the bartender his cash with a nod before he stood up from his stool.

"Huh. Since you're so quiet about it maybe he was right," she goaded, pressing her lips together to flatten her smile as she looked up at him through her lashes.

Harry placed a palm down on the bar top next to her hand and leaned over her, "You're out of your depth here, Y/n."

"Now, you don't really know that do you? Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're awfully pushy. Not used to hearing no, are you?"

Y/n watched as the edge of his mouth lifted in amusement and she widened her eyes and pointed, "You're almost smiling."

He shook his head and looked around the bar before pinning his gaze back to hers, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. But your luck has run out with me, princess."

Harry stood to his full height and Y/n decided to try one last time, "So it's true then. What he said."

He stopped and turned to look back at her, a slow burning heat behind his gaze, "Couldn't be further from the truth."

She smiled and slid off her stool to stand in front of him. His height was impressive, "Prove it."

The line of his jaw hardened, turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension. His eyes simmered as he weighed his options. Finally, a hint of a smile stretched over his mouth. A small one, but still.

"I don't need to prove anything to silly little girls."

"Good thing I'm not a silly little girl. I'm a grown woman, Harry."

Y/n knew she was pushing it. She'd never needed to throw herself at any man before. But because of that, she wasn't used to rejection either. Maybe it was a good lesson for her ego. She knew her big fault was how entitled she could act sometimes. But that was partly thanks to how she was raised. It's better to act like a man to get what you want in life, her dad told her. And so far, that had been true. Some women balked at her confidence and her bold attitude. She wasn't demure or sweet enough. And men would often refer to her as a bitch or say that she was trying too hard.

She'd work on her ego another time. But right now? She was focused on winning this battle.

"What do you want with someone like me anyway? Hm? I'm old, Y/n. What's in it for you?"

Blinking her eyes she shook her head, "You're not old, first of all. Secondly, you're really attractive. It doesn't need to go much deeper than that, does it? I just think you're handsome. And I do kind of like a challenge."

"I can see that you like a challenge. It's the only reason I haven't walked out that door yet. Kind of relentless."

She smiled, "So it's working?"

Another half-smile worked its way up his mouth as he laughed in disbelief, "Are you surprised that it is?"

His pupils coasted over her figure and then back up to her face. The warmth of his gaze singed her skin like an open flame.

"I guess I just didn't know how difficult it'd be with you."

He licked his lips, "Difficult. You have no idea. But looks like you're about to find out. Go tell your friends what's going on. Meet me out front."

Y/n watched him turn and walk away. She was shocked. For a minute she thought he wasn't going to go for it at all.

Shaking off the sudden surprise of having gotten to him she settled up with the bartender and then stopped at the table with her friends. They were just about to give her condolences for having oversold her ability but she interrupted. "He's waiting for me outside. Location is on. Don't wait up!"

Harry was leaning against a black car in the parking lot when she stepped out of the doors. The moment he saw her he pushed himself off the car and opened the passenger door for her.

It was going to be tricky to maintain the kind of confidence she'd been feigning with him up until then but there was no part of her that didn't want to find out what he could show her.

She watched as Harry sat down in the driver's seat and started up his car. He took up too much space in the seat. His big hand wrapped around the leather steering wheel while his other encased the shift stick. Even the way he drove was turning her on.

She was pleased that she'd wormed her way under his skin and that he'd given in. She'd try her best to make it worth his while. Reaching across the console she put her hand on his thigh and he glanced down quickly before setting his gaze back on the road.

Now, Harry had slept with younger women a couple of times. He generally preferred someone closer to his age because he liked the confidence and experience that came with age. Women in their 20s were often in a different stage of life and that was fine –normal even, but it just usually wasn't a match for him. Not sexually and not mentally.

But Y/n was unusually confident for being so young. Persistent. He liked it, he couldn't lie. Whether or not she really had much else going for her beyond confidence, he guessed he'd find out. Well, she was very cute too. She did have that in her favor.

And Y/n at least seemed like she knew what she wanted. It was flattering as well. Being approached by such a pretty young thing. He figured the moment he told her to go back to her friends she'd give up but she was just fiery enough that she wasn't deterred.

When she ran her nail over his wrist he knew he was screwed. She was just close enough that he could smell her perfume and then she nudged her shoe into his shin and all he could think about was that she really wanted to be shown a good time and if anyone could it was him.

Harry knew his way around a woman's body. They were all different and he liked finding all the buttons and things that made them purr. In his experience, though, the younger the woman, the less she knew her own body. He didn't know if Y/n was just talking a big game but he was about to find out.

He stayed quiet as she ran her hand down his thigh and he shifted as the car accelerated past the green light. He'd see if she'd do anything with her hand but maybe she'd just pet at him like a novelty toy. He didn't expect—

"This is okay?" She asked him, her tone sultry as she palmed at his crotch.

He licked his lips, "Have at it."

His cock fattened up nicely with not much effort on her part. Proof that he definitely could get it up. Plucking at his button she looked from his face to her fingers as she leaned further over the console to reach her hand into his open pants to help him with the awkward angle of his dick. He seemed to appreciate that as he shifted under her palm.

Rubbing over his heather grey briefs she peeled down the elastic band the slightest to get a peek. The dark shade of pink on his tip matched the muted raspberry of his lips. She slid the pad of her middle finger over the slit and he softly inhaled through his teeth.

She wouldn't be able to give him roadhead like she wanted. It was impossible with the stick shift in the way. But she could wrap her fingers around his shaft and feel him under her palm until they got wherever they were going.

"Mmm… It's so big, Harry. Knew you would be. Might be the biggest I've seen in person. Can't tell yet, though. Have to wait to see when we've got these off."

Harry pushed a laughed breath through his nose. She was a bold thing. Her assertiveness was a turn-on. He didn't like meek and shy. Not when it came to sex.

When she spit into her palm and smeared it down his length, the best she could, he parted his lips and stepped on the gas. She was already exceeding any expectations he had for her. Maybe she'd prove him wrong.

Her nail scraped the underside of him and she moaned, "Really want it in my mouth."

He gulped harshly and ticked his jaw, "Just be patient. I'll let you put it in your mouth soon enough."

"And where are we going? Your place?"

He nodded, "Just a few minutes away."

She squeezed around him and pulled upward slowly. She knew already, he was well above average and she was going to have to work to give him a proper blowy.

His house was a one story, the driveway at the front with a garage attached. He lifted his hand and pushed on a device that was clinging to his sun visor and the garage door began to open. There was a covered motorcycle along the back wall and then the garage door closed after he shut off the engine.

She moved her hand away and unbuckled herself as he got out. When she reached down to pick up her little purse she realized her panties were already wet. She grinned as she stepped out, adjusting her dress before closing the door, and then followed behind him as he led her into a dark hallway.

When he turned on the lights she took it all in. Hardwood floors led into a dining area and then a kitchen. Hung on the walls were photos of himself with two children and then more framed photos with just the kids.

"Do you have kids?"

"I do. Boy and a girl. 7 and 10."

"You're not married are you?"

He laughed, "If I were you'd have known. Wouldn't have been out in the first place if I had a wife waiting for me at home."

She nodded as he turned on the kitchen light and pulled out two glasses before filling them with water.

"Divorced?"

Handing her a glass he squinted, "Yes."

She took a sip. He was a man of few words she'd gathered. She looked around the kitchen. Wood cabinets, an outdated laminate countertop, stainless steel appliances. The space could use some updating but it was large and he had a big pantry.

Sitting the glass down on the counter she watched him closely. His pants were still unbuttoned. She eyed the space at his crotch as he placed his own glass down next to hers.

"It's not gonna suck itself."

She laughed and looked up at him. He had a genuine smile on his face that time. The first real smile she'd seen from him all night. A healthy row of clean teeth, a dimple…

"Hmm… I think you're right. Let's see what we've got…"

She moved in front of him and placed her hands on his pants to push them away but before she could inch them down he wrapped his meaty hand around the back of her neck and drew her into his chest. His mouth was warm and soft. His tongue tasted like the whisky he'd been drinking.

Letting go of his pants she held onto his biceps as he used his free hand to push her hips against his. Still nice and hard. He ran his tongue over her lips and she moaned into his mouth. He worked his warm lips down to her jaw and then he licked upward on her neck, the wet patch was cool on her skin from the air in the kitchen. He did it again and her knees almost gave out. She hadn't been licked like that before.

He kissed over her clavicle and then drew his tongue over her flesh. Her heart was thrumming quickly and she squeezed his strong arms when he rutted against her.

"You good at sucking cock, Y/n?" He pushed his nose against her jawline and the hot breath from his words scattered over the skin on her neck.

"I want to be," she spoke breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed as he mawed at her throat.

He parted from her neck and looked down at her, half-lidded gaze and spit-slicked lips, "Go on."

Instantly she dropped to her knees as her fingers worked deftly at pulling his pants down and then his underwear. She'd sucked a handful of dicks so she knew a couple of moves.

Getting her hand around his thick shaft proved to be a small challenge. To say he was thick… understatement. Long too. His tip was smooth, mushroomed with ridges along the length that she hoped she'd get to feel later on. His was the kind of cock that women dreamed of.

Looking up at him she licked her palm and used her spit to pump him slowly. Another glob over his tip for good measure. Then she pressed a kiss to the base of him, just over his sac, and screwed her eyes upward to watch his expression as she licked his balls, one side at a time. She wound her tongue all around to wet him before sucking at one side, pulling it into her mouth and he let out a ragged breath, his dark pupils spreading inky until the soft green had almost vanished.

He liked it.

She worked around the other side, sucking him in again and swirling her tongue softly underneath the tender bits. He gripped the counter behind himself.

Pulling off she straightened her back and licked upward, feeling every delicious thick ridge along his shaft until her tongue met his smooth crown. Laving every crevice of his tip, she dipped her tongue into his slit and then ran it under the frenulum before she wetted every inch of his glans.

Her mouth was watering when she parted her lips around him and flitted her gaze upward. He was watching her with a slack jaw as she took him a little deeper. He cradled the back of her head and moaned.

"Just suck the tip…."

She blinked up at him and pulled her lips just over the lip, swirling and suckling around him like he wanted.

"Fuck. Just like that." His hand at the back of her head was easy. He didn't push or pull. It was more like a pleased gesture as his fingertips flexed around her skull gently.

Y/n would have liked to have gone deeper. Wanted to show him her best work. But he seemed rather happy with what she was doing.

She bobbed a couple of times, only to slide her lips back to his tip. Her pace was slow when she began to stroke his length with a little twisting motion.

He was big. She knew she could take more but in a way, she was grateful that that was all he was asking for.

A groan fell from his chest and he bucked forward, his cock slipping down her tongue and she sucked, drawing more of him in as she moved her hands away.

"Goddamnit, you're good."

She took that as permission to go deeper. Relaxing her jaw she closed her eyes and held her breath, pushing down to her limit. She filled her throat with his cock the best she could and gurgled around his tip.

He coughed out a moan and then thumbed at her cheek, "Alright, that's good."

She pulled off of him. His heavy cock aimed right at her face when she sat back on her knees and looked up at him, "I can do better than that."

He laughed and put his hand out for her to take, helping her stand up, "I bet you can. Come on."

Harry kept her hand in his as he led her to his bedroom. It was just past the dark living space and he turned on a floor lamp on the opposite side of the room from the bed. When he turned back toward her he cupped her face and kissed her again.

She pressed her hand into his warm, hard chest and he reached around the back of her dress to pull the zipper downward, his fingers dragging down her skin as he went. His touch sent a tremor down her spine as continued kissing her wetly.

He stepped back, helping her out of her dress until it fell to the floor. His eyes raked over her body and he smoothed his hands over her hips and up to her bra-covered breasts. He stepped in closer, walking her backward toward his bed. He put his hands back on her hips and nudged her to sit before he reached down to lift her leg up by her calf, removing her heels, one at a time.

Y/n's thong was drenched. She stared at him while he placed her shoes side by side at the foot of the bed and then he placed his big palms on her thighs, pushing her legs open, "Lie back."

She let her back hit the mattress as Harry got to his knees on the floor. An arm reached under her thigh as he spread her apart and then she felt her panties being pulled at until her her wet pusslips were right in his face. He groaned and felt a hand slide up the inside of her thigh. He pressed his mouth over her mons and looked up at her before he opened his mouth wide and drew his tongue through her crease making her gasp.

"Get your bra off."

She pushed herself up slightly and worked at the clasp of her bra between moans as Harry continued licking at her pussy. When she pulled her arm through the flimsy material he lifted his head and reached around her back, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed and he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck!"

Y/n's finger and her long nails pushed into Harry's hair and scraped at his scalp as he licked and pulled at each nipple. He buried his face between her tits and let out a low sound, like he was murmuring something to her but only her breasts were allowed to hear it.

When he sunk back down he pushed at her so she'd lie back and he started in on her clit, one hand holding her panties to the side as he devoured her glistening cunt.

She kept feeling like she was going to slide off the edge of the bed but Harry's grip on her kept her still. His tongue and his lips were magic as he drew her to her end. She yanked at his hair and babbled his name on repeat as her spine bowed off the bed when she came.

Her chest was still rising and falling heavy when she felt her body being pushed upward. She popped her eyes open and watched him roll a condom over his shaft before he kneed back up onto the bed next to her. He was stark naked. His body was insane. Thick muscle and masculine everything. Tattoos scatter over his arms and chest.

Fuck, she muttered under her breath.

"Flip over, for me," his deep voice was husky as he motioned toward her to move.

She rolled to her stomach and she felt his fingers slide between the band of her panties and her hips as he pulled them down her legs.

"Ass up a little. I want to see all of you, Y/n."

She grinned and turned to look at him over her shoulder as she lifted her hips and spread her thighs. His lips were parted as he grabbed her ass and squeezed, making her cheeks spread apart. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and then dipped in, kissing her pussy from behind before licking upward over her ass.

She squealed quietly and bit her lip, still watching him behind her as he lifted, a lopsided grin on his face. He gazed at her as he fisted the base of his cock and slid the head up and down her soaked folds before he tipped his hips to push in just the tip.

"Gorgeous. Gonna look even better wrapped around cock. You like anal?"

"Never tried it."

He licked his lips and pressed his lips together as he looked at the spot where his dick was pressed against her cunt, "Figured. S'alright. Pussy's my favorite anyway."

"We could try… if you want."

He looked back into her eyes, a cocky smile on his face, "Your little hole would need to be trained. And that takes time. So, there will be no anal tonight. Not gonna try and hurt you. But that's a cute thought."

He canted his hips inward, eyes on hers and her mouth dropped open when she felt her entrance splitting open for him. She was tight, but so slick, it only took a few slow thrusts until he was buried in with a low grunt. He pulled back and then pushed his entire length into the hilt.

"Fuck—fuck!" She cried and stuffed her face into the blankets.

"Too much?"

"No! It's so good. You're just so big…" She began to send her hips back against him and Harry slowly fucked in to match her pace. His eyes were everywhere. On her puss getting split open on his cock, the curve of her lower back, the swell of her ass.

He just knew she'd look so sweet with her ass stuffed too, but good things like that couldn't be rushed which was a shame.

Every thrust was gushy wet. Y/n bubbled out small moans every time his dick brushed deep into her guts. It was better than she imagined. The way he filled her to the brim was going to turn into an addiction. She'd never slept with any man that had her wanting seconds before they'd even finished.

"Oh my god…" she mewled into the comforter.

"Fuck, I know, baby…"

She fit him like a glove, it was perfect. He went in a little faster, balls thudding against her skin rhythmically making her bounce forward as she spread around his girth. When he ground in she arched her back deeply and let out a soft groan, her hands fisted at the blanket and Harry reached around and smeared his fingertips over her clit.

It had her panting and pushing into him feverishly. She'd needed the friction on her throbbing button and he'd found it easily, thick, rough fingerprints slicking back and forth as he rutted in and in. It sent electrical sparks over her limbs.

"Like that? Needs her clit touched? Shit baby, act like you've never been touched by a man right here before…" he plucked at her like he was playing the guitar and she began to fade, her moans getting caught in her chest.

He could feel her walls tightening around him as he drove in deep.

"Fuck, Harry— fuck!"

He grinned as he watched her shudder, "Give it up, Y/n. There you go…"

She began to pulse around him, a constant stream of nonsense falling from her lips as he stroked against her channel and pushed deep into her tummy, his fingers still working her clit with ease.

Just as her body had tipped and oxygen returned to her lungs he pulled out and she felt him taking her hips and turning her around to her back. Harry grabbed her ankles and lifted until each was settled over his shoulders and pushed back inside of her, cock drilling down to her core making her teeth chatter at the way he split her down the middle.

Harry leaned over her, cock buried deep as she watched her pretty face twist up with pleasure. Plapping into her, her tits wobbled as his balls tightened against his body. The harder he plunged in, the more her legs shook. Soon, her ankles had slipped down and her feet hit the mattress as he continued drilling into her. His face was flushed hot, lips parted, muscles tensed.

Reaching up to his neck she smoothed her fingers over his warm skin and he lowered his chest down to hers and kissed her. That filthy tongue ran over her lips and he sloppily sipped at her between sucking at her lips. Her brain had turned to jelly.

She felt his hand on her outer thigh squeezing and brushing as he fucked down into her. "Mmm… fuck, Y/n, m'gonna come…"

He trembled over her, thick thighs pressed down and flexed as he rutted in and in and in, and then… he stilled. A deep, guttural moan vibrated through his chest down into hers.

She sighed when she felt him throbbing, pumping into his condom. Her fingers caressed the muscles over his back and she gasped when he bucked in harshly, once more as he emptied the last of his come into the rubber wrapped around his cock.

He slowed his kisses until they were lazy little pecks and then he looked down at her, his chest heaving. She was already grinning up at him.

"What?"

She blinked her eyes, "That was fun."

He puffed out a breath, "I guess that's a good way to describe it."

Harry was a gentleman as he pulled out slowly and helped her off the bed and led her to his bathroom. He helped her clean up and listened to her tell him about her job —just reminding him that she was an adult after he commented on her being so young again.

When she picked her dress up off the floor and started to step into it, Harry frowned, "What are you doing?"

She stopped and raised her brows. "Getting dressed. Was gonna call an Uber. I'm sure you don't want a stranger in your house all night," she laughed.

Harry pulled at her hand, making her drop her dress, "What kind of men have you been hanging out with that let you leave in an Uber at 2 am? You'll stay here."

She opened her mouth and then closed it in surprise before tilting her head in confusion, "Really? I just assumed—"

"You'll stay the night here. There's no way in hell you're getting an Uber at this time of night. It's dangerous."

She grinned and shrugged, "Well then… can I have a shirt or something to sleep in?"

He placed his warm hands on her hips, "You can have a t-shirt if you like. I prefer to sleep naked myself."

"Oh yeah? I usually do too as a matter of fact."

He held her out in his arms and eyed her naked frame, "Looks like we're both good to go then. We'll get you sorted in the morning. I'll give you a ride home then."

"I think you just want to keep me here with you," she chuckled.

Harry shook his head and released her hips before he popped her on the bottom with his palm. She bleated out a laugh.

"Get your ass in bed before I change my mind."

"Yes, sir."

. .

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[anaargent]

I heard u take requests I am here to make one ✨ Can u make one where reader find the diner of Five's and they all haven't seen her in forever so there just all around her and doing all this stuff. There practically fighting each other and Brisket Five wins! Ty!!❤️

I just loved this idea, I hope you like it.

RU MINE?

BRISKET FIVE x READER

You didn't know how you ended up here. One moment you were inside the mysterious subway, watching the stations pass by through the window with vacant and lost eyes. Now you were in a restaurant surrounded by countless Fives.

You lost count of how many disgusting pick-up lines you received from some drunk Fives - honey, you're not the end of the world, but you're on my mind all the time - Or the subtle flirtations of the grumpy Five - maybe you want to have a coffee? With me? At the same table? Like, a date? - It was cute, like an old man trying to woo someone in a Jane Austen book. A few cheesy pick-up lines from a Five waiter, who was very insistent - you know, I could be a much better escort than this loser, when you want a real man, just call me dove - he says, leaning dangerously close to you with the tray in his hand, leaving after someone insistently rang the doorbell to call him, an anonymous savior.

There was even a serenade from a Five who was too drunk for his own good - Shouldn't he be taken away from there? - you point to the man staggering on stage - no, he's fine, it's his Meryl Streep moment - someone spoke seconds before the singer Five threw up.

You were flattered by so many looks in your direction, you really were, but it didn't feel right. You always had something with your Five, you knew he felt something too, it was a lifelong companionship. But maybe you underestimated the time you spent together, always postponing, "maybe next week we can have coffee?" "Maybe we should take a week off and go out together?"

- maybe a drink for a pretty lady? - you were awakened from your thoughts by the sweet voice of another Five, ready to gently dismiss him when you saw him place a cup of hot coffee in front of you - I-

- you don't like black coffee? I brought you an espresso with plenty of sugar - he smiles, turning to pour a few more clones of himself. You smile, the brisket five, you should have seen it coming. He was the only one who didn't try his luck and court you, but here he was, and he had nailed your favorite drink. One point for him

- so what? Some pick-up line or are you the mysterious type? - you scoff as you sip your espresso, your feet dangling as you stare at him. - lucky you, none - he smiles, finally finishing his task and leaning against the counter in front of you - you deserve a break after so many love attacks.

You sigh in defeat, letting your confident facade fall - I don't understand, what is everyone looking for? - you ask, looking around. So many Five's looking defeated, some already unconscious, from alcohol or fatigue. - isn't it obvious? - the brisket five leans closer - the Apocalypse? - you ask confused.

- you - he says simply as he smiles, a beautiful smile.

- me? - you laugh in disbelief - don't laugh at them, they're poor souls in search of the only company they've ever had.

You swallow hard, observing the environment once again, so many Five, only one of you - what happened?..with my clones?

- it depends - Five asks, sitting down next to you - some leave, some dismiss you when they realize the problem they were going to get themselves into, some paths diverge, some die.

The atmosphere gets heavy for a moment, you clear your throat and try to break the ice - and you? Five..?

- oh, please, call me whatever you want - he smiles flirtatiously - let's just say you dumped me - oh, I'm sorry, I hope I…she, she wasn't too rude.

- she was - he stares at you for a moment, a flash of longing in his eyes - but I deserved it - he spoke in a melancholic tone, as he pulled a coat over the counter, throwing it over your shoulders. You looked at him questioningly - you were shaking, I didn't want you to get cold - he justified himself with a shrug. You looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up a little at his detailed care, an uncomfortable feeling taking over your chest.

- Do you want to get some coffee? - Five asks after gathering the necessary courage within himself. You let out a laugh, the first real one of the night - We're literally in a coffee shop, and you work here - Except for you, I don't like anyone in this room. And the service is terrible - he whispers smilin like it was a dirty secret and extends his hand to you.

- Where would we go? - You ask as you look expectantly at Five in front of you

- I know some great places in Paris, I'd love to show you around - he says with that sideways smile. You don't answer, you simply stand up and grab his hand, pulling him into a soft kiss, the shocked reaction of the man in front of you amused you, his eyes slightly wide, his mouth half open, trying to process the bold movement

- Excuse me? - He says with a shaky voice.

- I don't - you smile - take me to drink this damn coffee, then we'll see what happens.

*meanwhile at the diner*

A sad grumpy Five takes his last sip of drink, the liquid burning his throat as he throws the glass away, his eyes clouded in anguish as he watches you once again walk away, out of his reach. Again.

[myownwholewildworld]

v. a Roman’s rotten heart - acta, non verba

chapter 4 | series masterlist | ao3 | chapter 6 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: temptation is sweeter than honey. a/n: well, well, well, what can i say other than this whole chapter had me howling? over half of it is smut, so if that's not your thing, i'm sorry? 🤓 as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care 💖 warnings: 18+, mdni. mentions of war, death, starvation, marital abuse, infidelity. some fluff because cormag is a grumpy sweetheart. marcus is the praise/consent king. very soft!marcus (yes, this is a warning). he talks you through it. a lot of fingering. nipple play. unprotected piv. reverse lap dance and reverse cowgirl positions. dialogue in italics means it’s spoken in gaelic (unless stated otherwise, i.e. latin). marcus is 49, ofc!reader (callie) is 26. unbeta'd, very minimal editing (soz). w/c: ~8.8k. dividers by @\saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

“Come see me tonight,” Marcus almost begged you as you turned around in his embrace.

He had you pinned against the wall of the garderobe, the small room filled with the scent of wine and sex.

You chuckled, eyeing him through your lashes. It was a good sign that he was eager, but you wondered if he was just trying to bed you, fuck you and then be done with you. All men were the same, especially men like him — drunk with power, believing they were above everyone else, that they could get anyone to bend to their will.

And… was not that what you were trying to do anyway?

“I’ll see what I can do,” you conceded, leaving him hanging. “But won’t you have an early day tomorrow? I’m sure being the General of Rome have you waking up like an early bird.”

You were fishing for information, and hoped he would bite the bait.

Surprisingly, he did.

“Tomorrow we are going on a reconnaissance mission around the area, stalk out some points of interest where…” he trailed off, probably realising he had spoken too much. “But I don’t mind having a late night when I know it will be worth it.”

He surely knew how to make one feel fucking special. But what he said was like gold dust to you — it wasn’t much, but enough to get your plan working. You’d need to speak to some people, see what could be arranged, but if it worked out, perhaps your people could instil some fear in those rotten Roman hearts.

You wondered if Marcus’ was as rotten as his people’s. An idea of him had formed in your mind, and it contradicted what he had shown you so far. But only a man with a rotten heart could cause so much pain, so much grief.

You chewed your bottom lip, crouching for a second to collect the jug you had dropped before.

“If I finish early after cleaning up all the mess of your birthday’s celebration…” you teased.

“Right,” Marcus took a step back, liberating you from the warm prison of his body. “You go first, I’ll wait a couple of minutes then leave.”

“Such a gentleman, worried about my reputation,” you mocked him a bit, hand on the doorknob.

“I am,” Marcus replied, and you were not sure if he was joking back or being serious.

You didn’t stay to find out, scurrying away down the hallway straight to the kitchens. There were a lot of people in the small room, with Cormag at the forefront of it, barking commands and orders to everyone. The air was heavy, a cloud of smoke collecting close to the low ceiling.

The poor cook was profusely sweating near the hearth, his paw stirring a cauldron with a big wooden spoon.

“Ye deaf lad?! Bring that over right now!” the old git screamed at the top of his lungs, breaking into a coughing fit a second later.

Tomorrow you would make sure to put out the fire and clean that damn chimney, because one of these days Cormag was going to cough up a lung. You wouldn’t tell him though, otherwise he would try and talk you out of it, pointing out that it was no job for a lady. As if you cared.

Placing the empty jug down on one of counters, you saw Brighid and Isla tattling in a corner, giggling and blushing. You could only imagine what they were talking about. Had Brighid recognised you? It was dark inside the garderobe, and Marcus had tried to shield you from her, but the maid could be very perceptive.

Then Brighid swept the room and waved at you to come over, still snickering.

You steeled your back and sauntered towards them, not sure what to expect.

“Oh, mo bana-phrionnsa, you’re not going to believe what I just saw!” she squealed, almost too excitedly. “I just saw the Roman General fucking one of the harlots in the garderobe!”

Should you take offense in being mistaken for a prostitute? Perhaps you should but didn’t. It was actually a relief. Being caught red-handed sheathing Acacius’ cock in a crowded event like this would have been bad, really bad.

“Did you now?!” you faked the same level of excitement, sharing in the gossip.

The rest of the night was a haze, serving plates and taking empty ones away, cleaning up after the unwanted guests, replenishing wine and beer one pint after the next. Your feet hurt, although the dull, pleasant aching between your legs had nothing to do with standing up for hours. You had Marcus to thank for that.

Perhaps you were being paranoid, but you felt strangers’ eyes on you for the remainder of the night. You had avoided looking at the dais the whole evening, slightly worried that if your eyes lingered on him for too long, people would notice and add up your absence with his. That wasn’t the kind of attention you needed.

The last of the Romans had left now while you and the maids continued to clean after them. Marcus and Maximus were the last ones to exit the great hall, and you could sense the General’s brown eyes burning through your skin as he walked towards the double doors. You didn’t look his way, although the temptation was there. You knew if you did, you would not be able to stop yourself from following him to his room.

Two hours had gone by, and you were knackered. Rummaging through a basket, you found one of the plums that Cormag had gotten for you from Fachabair, jumped and sat on the clean counter. Your feet dangled in front of you, your mind stuck in that garderobe.

You were so distracted, your heart almost escaped your chest when someone spoke behind you.

“Meanbh-chuileag (Highland midge),” you almost fell from the counter when you turned around to look at the old cook.

“Cormag! I almost threw up my heart right now,” you accused him, his hearty laugh reverberating in the room.

“Didnae ye hear my ol’ knees clicking? Umnae (am not) that stealthy, fear beag (little one). What are you doing here? It’s so late, you should be in bed,” he questioned you, stopping in front of you with arms folded.

You rolled your eyes — Cormag was too close to a father figure to you, so you would sometimes give him the same attitude you did your dad.

“I was about to go, just wanted something sweet before I left.”

“Is that why all the plums are disappearing so quickly?” his brows knitted together, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Coireach (guilty). They are just too sweet. Didnae you say you bought them for me exclusively?”

“Exclusively? Now I don’t recall saying that, ye wee liar,” Cormag joked, his expression softening. “Are you and your family having enough to eat?”

The old man had a nose for hunger. While you were not starving, you did save as much food as possible so your niece and nephew would not go to bed with an empty belly. Bonnie was trying her best to keep you all fed, but four more mouths to cater for in the household meant that resources were a tad scarce. Your sister’s children were used to Cormag’s cooking, not having known hunger for a single day of their lives. And you didn’t want that to change now.

“We are making ends meet,” you eluded, shrugging, while sinking your teeth in the plum.

Cormag tutted at you and with no other words, he veered around and shuffled around in the kitchen. You watched him with curiosity, not sure of what he was doing. Got off the counter to drop the stone in the bin.

“Here, you take all of this with you, and I won’t accept no for an answer,” Cormag placed down a basket full of food. “They are leftovers from tonight. Brighid, Isla and the lads have already had their share.”

You could smell the stew even with the tiny cauldron covered. Fresh vegetables, berries, bread, and, of course, quite a few plums along with other seasonal fruits. All that food would keep you all fed for a few days.

His generosity made the knot in your throat swell, your eyes lighting up with unspent tears. You had not expected to feel emotional, but the cook’s kindness reminded you too much of the family you had lost.

“Cormag,” you whispered, fearing your voice might crack, “mòran taing (thank you).”

He waved one of his paws, making light of the situation.

“Dinnae mention it. You still have a few inches to grow,” he jested, palming your shoulder.

His joke worked — it lightened your mood.

“I am six and twenty. I don’t think I’m growing any more than this,” you chortled, grabbing the basket to rest it on your hip. “Awright, I’m leaving before you diminish the castle’s reserves.”

“Off you go then,” his hands did a brushing motion, the man almost pushing you out of his kitchen.

If you had planned on visiting Marcus tonight, that had now changed — carrying all this food to Bonnie’s home was your main priority. You couldn’t wait to see the sparkle in your niece and nephew’s eyes when they woke up in the morning, plums and berries ready for them to break their fast.

Marcus knew that the rebels would be up in arms, but he did not expect them to be so bloodthirsty. The barbarians from the Highlands were not going to go down quietly, he had come to learn.

He had lost at least a dozen of men in the skirmish. They had been ambushed in their way to Cùil Lodair (Culloden), and none of his trackers had seen any indication of the small legion being followed. The moment they entered the woods and the path narrowed, arrows flew from tree to tree. Hell ensued, a dance of swords quickly singing its melody up to the treetops.

With his wounds still fresh and healing, Marcus had been able to knock down the first two men that approached him. Maximus and Cassius had come to his aid in time — the warmth soaking the tunic underneath his armour a good indication that he was bleeding again.

The General looked around him before jumping onto Faun’s back. Death followed him everywhere he went, like an old companion stalking his every step. He should be used to it by now—the reeking stench of humanity’s demise—but the truth was, Marcus never would. It never became easier, just manageable, but his duty to Rome had him drown the lingering doubts living quietly in the back of his mind.

After an unsuccessful mission—never made it past the woods—they returned to the castle, carrying their own dead and leaving behind a pile of bodies for their people to mourn and bury.

His muscles ached with exhaustion as he crossed the barbican. A dense fog had settled in the bailey, not a soul to be seen. As he trudged forward and the warm air of the keep hit his damp skin, his senses flared — alert, hoping to cross eyes with you.

Marcus had not seen you since his birthday. Despite asking you to join you that evening, you had not shown up at his door. He had waited up for a couple of hours and when reality dawned, he called it a night, somewhat resigned.

Perhaps it was for the best. He was a married man, after all. It was normal for men to take up a mistress or two, but Marcus was the kind to think that matrimony was holy — despite the hardships and the cheating, that was. At least, that was his mind up until he met you.

Should not be after a woman who was several years younger than himself either, he thought with a pout. But whatever spell you had him under, he could not break free from. You were like the opium poppy — your mere proximity could soothe pain, but also cause it.

“You need to get that stitched up again, Acacius,” Cassius pointed out, interrupting his line of thought.

Marcus’ palm was pressing on the wound on his hip — he had almost forgotten about the pain, the thought of you soothing.

“I’ll call for Atticus,” Maximus chipped in, and Marcus nodded.

“Shite!” you staggered backwards.

The hardened soot and coal you had been poking at with a broomstick to unblock the chimney’s breast dislodged from the inner walls. Snapping your head back, your face was saved by hair’s breadth, but the black ash had cascaded down your chest, staining the red linen dress you were fashioning today.

You clapped your hands together, a cloud of soot flying around you as you tried to shake off the rest of it off your clothes.

Huffing and puffing, you grabbed the damn broomstick and brush the mess off the floor. At least the chimney was unblocked now, so the air would not be loaded with smoke when the hearth was ignited again.

At least the kitchen was empty, so no one was witness to what has happened. Not that you were a refined lady worries about being seen like this, but you just knew that if Cormag was around, he would be giving you hell.

Once you were done, you left the kitchen and sauntered towards the doors to the bailey. You were in dire need of a dunking to clean yourself — you knew the perfect secluded spot on River Ness’ bank, one you had been going to since you were a child.

“Callie?”

The voice behind you made your heart skip a beat and your feet freeze. One you would now recognise anywhere.

“Dux Meus,” you murmured, turning around to face the fire of your desire.

Dux Meus. His lower tummy burnt at the words.

The last thing Marcus had hoped to see this fine morning was you standing in the hallway, a red dress hugging the hourglass figure he longed for. Your chest was covered in what seemed to be ash and soot, a deep black staining ruining the front of your pretty dress. It spread to your neck, your cheeks, the tip of your nose — and your green eyes so bright that they were pulling him in.

“What’s happened?”

“A minor inconvenience in the kitchens, Dominus. I was unblocking the chimney’s breast and, well…” you lifted your arms and pointed at yourself. “I guess my reflexes are not as sharp as I would have liked.”

Marcus grinned, the annoyance in your voice adding to the entertainment.

“I guess not,” he hummed, his fingertips burning to touch you. “I can help you,” the words escaped him before his brain was able to catch up with his own intentions.

I can help you clean yourself, he meant.

Your eyes locked for what felt like an eternity, the pupils in your orbs flickering, pondering.

One of your brows raised in your forehead and you took a step forward towards him.

“Only if it is not inconvenient for you, Dux Meus,” you cooed with a girlish smile.

“Of course not,” he quickly replied. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“I believe your pretty dress is ruined,” Marcus husked, the damp rag brushing the exposed skin of your clavicle.

This was fucking torture. He was playing a game, and your patience was running thin. He had been paying immense attention to every inch of your skin, cleaning off all soot and ash. You knew he was debating, but he wouldn’t have taken you to his bedchambers—your room—if he hadn’t had something in mind.

The same thing you had in mind, to be completely honest.

“It appears so,” you said, sliding your hand to his.

To hell with subtleties — the tension was eating you up.

You guided his hand, the one holding the linen cloth, to the valley between the swell of your boobs. Slowly you pushed it down, one corner of the rag disappearing between your breasts.

Marcus didn’t say a word. And he didn’t need to, because the way he was looking at you—like a man who had not drunk water in days—was speaking for him.

You were not sure who had taken the initiative, but soon enough you were in his embrace, his mouth warming your lips as his hands rested gently on either side of your waist.

“I need you,” you mumbled, possibly being sincere for the first time.

You had not been able to stop thinking about what happened in the garderobe. Every time the memory came back, you would find yourself rubbing your knees together to quench the thirst between your thighs.

Marcus groaned in reply, his hands harsher now as they found the buttons on the back. With steady fingers, he undid every single one of them until your dress cascaded off your body and gathered at your feet. Soon your loincloth was also on the floor, leaving you completely naked.

The General took a step back to take in the sight of you — the intensity in his brown eyes making you blush as he studied every square inch of your body.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered, one hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts, his thumb skimming the nipple. You pursed your lips at the gentle touch. “You are beautiful, mel.”

Then he bowed down to kiss you again, and he took control of your hands to show you how to undress him. So you did under his delicate guidance, until you both were equally bare.

Marcus’ body was a woman’s dream — or, at least, yours. Toned but not too muscular, a hard chest, strong and defined arms, his lower tummy slightly softer with the passage of time, a pronounced V line, and then a happy, hairy trail that your eyes eagerly followed.

His cock had started to harden, the tip pearly with his excitement. The length was generous, but the girth was what caught your attention.

No wonder why he couldn’t fit it in the first time. Perhaps it hadn’t been your body’s rejection, but that Marcus’ dick was thick, very thick.

“It’s alright, honey, we’ll make it work,” he hummed, his thumb tilting your chin up to press a soft kiss on your mouth.

Then he walked to the bed—his ass, goddamn his ass—and sat on the feathery mattress.

You were standing there, completely naked and suddenly you felt shy — your arms wrapping around your body to try and cover yourself up. Your skin had bristled, not because of the room temperature, but because you felt completely exposed to him.

Being shy was not something you were used to, but everything you had endured with your late husband had taken a toll on you, one you had not expected at all. It pained you to acknowledge that Iain might have broken your spirit a tad more than what you would have liked to admit.

Marcus’ nudity should have calmed you, but instead it made your eyes widened and your heart pound harder.

He was big, really big ― to the point that you pondered if he would ever fit inside you. No wonder why he had only fucked you with the tip a couple of days ago. Taking more inches of his cock seemed like an unachievable task, at least for you. You were no stranger to sex, having been subdued to satisfy all of Iain’s vices, but this… this was too fucking different to what you had expected.

Doubt nagged at your mind, questioning yourself. Perhaps this was all a bad idea, wanting to seduce Marcus to get information off him. But you truly didn’t see any other way of obtaining what you needed ― leverage.

Marcus extended one of his hands towards you.

“It’s alright, melculum. Just want to make you feel good,” he husked, his palm an open invitation to join him, sat on the bed. Your bed.

You slipped your hand to his and he pulled you gently until you were sat on his bare lap. His hardening dick rested on the side of your left thigh, warm and heavy. His right hand traced mindless lines on your back, while his left caressed your belly, the pads of his fingers lightly stroking your mound.

With eyes shut, you sighed, relaxing at his touch. Marcus kissed your shoulder, then the curvature of your neck.

“That’s it, mel, relax. We are not doing anything you don’t want to,” he whispered.

And you believed him. Knew better than trusting your enemy, but his voice was so reassuring, there was no more room for your initial doubt.

His left hand surprised you travelling up instead of down, cupping your left breast while his thumb stroked your nipple. A shiver of need went down your spine, soothed by the gentle pet of his right hand on your back. His beard scratched your bristled skin as he crouched down a little to trap your taut nipple between his lips.

Inevitably, your head tilted back, mouth agape with short breaths. Marcus worked your nipple diligently, the warmth of his lips dripping onto the wrinkled nub. And even as you started trembling on his lap, he did not stop. If anything, your little gasps and quiet moans spurred him on, his tongue flicking your nipple.

The sensation was too much ― Marcus latched on your breast as a man starved, his broad hand cradling your breast with reverence. He was intent on making it good for you and not asking for anything in return. But your instinct wanted you to reciprocate, you needed to do something.

Your left hand found his stiffened cock, leaned against your thigh. Tentatively, your fingertips stroked the leaky mushroom head, which gifted you a deep groan coming from his chest. Hearing him moan around your nipple was a great incentive to explore him a bit more, so you swiped his glans with your thumb, collecting a pearl of precum and buttering it onto his tacky skin.

“You don’t have to,” he purred between licks.

“But I want to,” you cooed back, mind mushy with pleasure.

Marcus’ efforts on your nipple doubled, twirling the tight button between his teeth and pulling slightly before soothing the gesture with a wet kiss on your bud. You couldn’t help but whimper, dampness gathering between your thighs.

As if he knew how drenched you were getting, the hand that cupped your breast slowly trailed down until it found your mound again. His ring finger stroked the outline of your seam a few times, your knees pressed together so your juices wouldn’t leak out.

“Let me see how wet you are, please,” Marcus murmured in a moment of reprieve, his lips pecking your nipple with every word he spoke.

You couldn’t resist him, not anymore, so you parted your legs just enough to let his hand slip between your thighs. The moment his ring finger dunked in your warmth, you both moaned in unison. The pad of his finger slid across your velvety skin, from your clenching hole to your writhing clit, a few times, as if he wanted to get acquainted with the map of your pussy.

“You’re soaking,” he grunted. “So damn wet for me, melculum.”

His words in combination with his cheeky finger short-circuited your brain, that coiling sensation you had been craving these last two days starting to take form low in your belly. It was warm in here now, so much your cheeks flushed as if you had drunk a pint of uisge beatha.

With lazy strokes on your soggy slit, Marcus’ tongue kept on licking and flicking your nipple, now completely sodden with his spit. His digit worked you slowly too, moving up and down between your swollen pussy lips until it caught on your needy clit. You sobbed quietly at the touch, and sensing how much you enjoyed that, Marcus repeated it.

Soon enough you were mewling into the abyss as the General pressed languid circles on your bundle of nerves at the same time he was lapping at the tip of your boob. And the moment he sunk the first phalange of his ring finger in your leaking hole, your wails just grew louder.

With an unhurried pace, he pumped the tip of his digit in and out of you, feeling your inner walls relaxing around him. A couple of minutes later, your walls had adjusted to the intrusion, his finger now completely buried in your seeping hole down to the knuckle.

You heaved, pursing your lips in a vain attempt to control your moaning, but the pleasure building up inside you was too great to bear. Too intense to ignore. You bit down your bottom lip until you almost drew blood, your hips bucking up with a mind of their own.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you feel that?” Marcus’ devilish mouth abandoned your nipple, lips pressed against your ear. “Come for me, please. Melt for me.”

You resisted, wanting to prolong this moment. It felt too good to let it go just yet, albeit your whole body was commending you to. Your insides tightened around Marcus’ lone finger as you tried to hold on to the feeling a little longer.

You were so lost to the new sensations, you hadn’t realised your own fingers were wrapping snugly around Marcus’ throbbing erection. Hoping he would falter, you began to pump him slowly, his hot glans leaking onto the skin of your thigh.

“Don’t be a tease, mel, don’t want to come yet,” he groaned in your ear. His finger suddenly left your insides to slap your hand away from his shaft.

You sobbed at the emptiness, the coiling feeling starting to diminish. The idea of not finding relief haunted you, so you obeyed his command.

Your fingers found his wrist, gripping it tight and guiding him back to your beating cunt. You coaxed your pussy lips apart with his fingers and silently begged him to resume where he had left off.

“Are you going to be good for me and come?” he asked, kissing your shoulder. “Do you promise?”

You nodded with vehemency.

“Good girl.”

With more urgency now, Marcus worked you back to the edge of the pleasure cliff, forcing you to climb up to the top with a relentless pace. Every time his ring finger bottomed out inside you, his thumb would flick your burning clit. The repeated tease of his hand was your undoing.

Teary eyes and parted lips, you moaned as an enormous wave washed over you, the coil inside finally snapping with a force unknown to mankind. Or, at least, unknown to you. Marcus kept on fingering you throughout, pulling the last bit of pleasure out of you until you were spent.

You hadn’t realised how much you had leaked until you felt his wet thigh underneath, sticky and warm with your release.

“I’m sorry, I’ll clean―” you tried to move off his lap, but Marcus’ strong arm wrapped around your waist, grounding you on his lap.

“Don’t apologise, it’s normal. It means you’re enjoying it,” he reassured you, then lifted his gaze to yours, a lingering question dancing in his dilated pupils. “I thought you were a widow?”

He was not wrong. But not all men spent the time he was taking to make it pleasurable for women.

“I am. But my late husband only cared about himself,” you told the truth, a crack of sincerity in your carefully built façade. “Never took the time to… make it good for me.”

Marcus frowned with incomprehension at your revelation, his mouth falling into a flat line. Was that a ray of anger? If it was, it quickly disappeared from his brown eyes.

Judging by what had just happened, you knew he was the complete opposite to Iain in that respect.

“Two days ago, in the garderobe. Was that your first time orgasming?”

You pouted, feeling like the conversation was taking a very personal turn. But you didn’t want to lie to him, there was enough deceit between you two. So you nodded, eyes withdrawn with a tinge of embarrassment.

Marcus cursed himself, annoyed with something although you didn’t know what. Annoyed with you, perhaps?

His thumb stroked your bottom lip, soothing the grimace showing on your face.

“Had I known, I wouldn’t have taken you like that. This should have been the first time you climaxed, melculum. I am sorry,” he apologised, and your heart jolted.

He was angry with himself. But the whole thing had been so good, you wouldn’t have done anything different. The memory of Marcus’ tip fucking the first two inches of your pussy had kept you warm at night.

“What? Nay, don’t. It was good, really good. I wouldn’t change a thing about what happened,” you quickly replied.

And what was worst, you actually meant it.

For a minute, Marcus didn’t speak a word, studying your face expression until he reached the conclusion that you were not lying.

“Stand up for me,” he said out of nowhere.

You obliged, the tremor of your knees almost gone. standing in front of him, he leaned forward, hands on either side of your waist, to kiss your mound. The intimacy of such gesture caught you off guard. Then he leaned back and dragged his body on the bed until he was sat in the middle of it, back resting against the headboard, knees bent with his soles resting flat on the silky bedsheets.

He palmed his thigh, his cock so erect it twitched with every heartbeat against his happy trail.

“Come here,” he mumbled with need.

You might not know what you had to do, but your body definitely knew what it needed to do to chase that high again. So you crawled on the bed until you were straddling him, the tip of his throbbing cock kissing your hooded clit.

Marcus’ hand cupped your ass, and then tutted.

“Not yet, mel, I need to make sure you are completely ready,” he husked.

It was your time to frown.

“I am ready,” you assured him.

“It was only one finger, sweetheart―”

“One thick finger,” you remarked, snappy.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yes, but I need you to take all of this,” he whispered, his hand gripping the base of his cock to direct your attention there.

He was girthy. Probably too girthy. One of his fingers was nothing in comparison.

You swallowed, your gaze looking for his.

“Yeah, I know, dove. We’ll take it slow,” he leaned forward a bit to kiss your right nipple. “Turn around, I want you to sit on my lap with your back resting on my chest.”

The promise of another climax numbed your mind, so you did exactly as he had asked. Sat on his lap, you leaned back until your bare back met his hard torso. His knees were still bent, and he slipped his forearms under your thighs to lift them up over his own thighs. The back of your thighs were now resting on top of his, and when Marcus pulled his knees apart, your legs followed the motion, leaving you completely open and exposed.

When your eyes drifted down your own body, you saw Marcus’ erection poking in between your thighs, gently lodged between your pussy lips. His hips moved slightly under you, his length skidding along your drenched fold, the head disappearing from sight as it dragged backwards across your seam. It hitched in your entrance, just briefly ― then Marcus tugged his hips upwards and his glans reappeared again, protruding where your slit began.

Marcus repeated the whole process a few times, his name dripping from your mouth in choked moans. He buried his crooked nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“You feel like heaven right now,” he mumbled, kissing the nape of your neck. “Play with your boobs for me, mel, my hands are about to be very busy, sadly can’t be everywhere.”

His request had your cunt gushing some more, if that was even possible. You felt so wet down there, you even wondered if there was something wrong with you. Couldn’t be that out of all men on this world, the one who killed your family was who had you melting under his touch.

Feeling a bubble of slick leaking from your hole on his thudding shaft, you leaned your head back on his shoulder and moved your hair out of the way, some ginger curls cascading down your front, covering your breasts. Cupped your underboob and pushed them up, creating a deep valley between your tits.

“That’s it, stroke them for me, melculum,” he mused as both of his hands rode up your inner thigs until your pussy was framed between them. “Brush both of your nipples with your thumbs, just lightly. Don’t be too harsh with them, they are sensitive.”

Marcus talked you through playing with your buds, petting them gently as he was telling you. While doing so, his left hand grabbed at his cock and began to pump himself, while his right started working your clit again. Looking down, you just caught a glimpse, which sent you trembling on his lap like a newborn foal.

He cupped your mound, the pads of all his fingers rubbing your clit leisurely, as if you had all time in the world. The fire burning between your legs hiked up your spine the moment Marcus let go of his cock and it sat snug against your pussy again, his fingers stopping for a second.

You whimpered in protest, your nipples hardening under the touch of your thumbs.

“Shh, it’s okay, Callie,” he heartened you, only to resume the petting of your slick nub. You let go a sigh of relief. “There you go.”

His free hand went down your thigh to find your drooling entrance, testing it out with one finger. Your pussy sheathed it with ease and Marcus hummed behind you.

“You’re much more relaxed now,” he praised. “Pinch those nipples for me, twist them gently between your thumb and index.” You did as you were told, another wail tearing your throat apart. “Yes, just like that, you’re doing so well, mel.” He gave you a moment to acclimatise to the feeling of having hands everywhere ― your nipples, your clit, your hole. It was almost too much. “Now, suck on your thumbs so they are wet and go back to rub those beautiful buds for me. Imagine they are my fingers. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, desperate. Doing exactly as you were told, the sudden cold of your spit on your nipples made the sensitive skin under your thumbs wrinkle. The brief pain transformed into something else, hellfire running through your veins.

So focused on your breasts, you had almost forgotten about Marcus fingering your pussy and smothering your clit at the same time. Your toes curled, hips bucking up, so close to that cliff again, one you would throw yourself off gladly.

“You’re doing very well―so, so well,” Marcus’ praise was like music to your ears, all your nerve endings firing with delight. “You think you can take another finger?”

You sobbed, shaking your head.

“Yes, please,” you begged.

As promised, Marcus introduced his middle finger, the pads of both dragging along your anterior wall to find that sweet, soft spot. Your hips jerked up and then back down on him, grinding a circular motion on his lower tummy.

“Well done, mel. I am sure we can get your sweet tight pussy to make room for me.”

His cock twitched between your thighs, leaking, and you knew he was as desperate as you. So, while one hand skimmed your nipple, the other drifted down to caress his glans with your thumb. Marcus rumbled underneath, his breath hitching with a quiet moan ― you did it again.

His fingers sunk inside of you effortlessly now, pumping in and out and all you could hear were the squelching noises coming from your swollen lips. It should have felt embarrassing, but it had the opposite effect on you ― if anything, they made you gush even more.

“If you can take three fingers… shit…” Marcus almost lost his composure there, “if you can, then you’ll be ready, sweetheart. Shall we try?”

You gripped his beating erection harder in response, mewling audibly now with every stroke on your clit, every thrust of his fingers, the caress of your own thumb on your nipple… Then the third finger went in smoothly and you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

It just was too much. Your knees quivered and so did your cunt, clutching on his fingers. You felt your inner walls contracting, but this time it was different ― it wasn’t to get the fingers out, but to push them as far in as you could. And Marcus obliged, bottoming out, then slipping them out and back in. The coil inside you twisted feverishly and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

You started wailing, grinding your ass against his tummy, in an attempt to increase the friction in your drenched opening, in your clit, everywhere.

“You’re close, mel, you’re so close,” Marcus huffed. “I want to try something. Do you trust me?”

You were barely able to nod at his words ― right now, you would do anything he asked for.

His fingers left your hole with a pop, and the second hand stopped petting your clit right when you were so close to fall off the cliff of your pleasure.

You panicked, tears brimming now as a sense of anxiety peaked inside you.

“M-Ma-Marcus,” you complained in a stutter, your whole body shaking.

You didn’t have much time to finish your protest, because he grabbed your hand off his cock and pushed your fingers against your clit. He showed you how to move them in circles, coaching you for a minute, teaching you how to pleasure yourself.

“Keep touching your sweet little clit for me, deliciae (darling),” Marcus groaned, his voice raspy and deep. “I’m going in. I want you to come while you sheathe me.”

And with no further ado, he slipped his forearms under your thighs, lifted you off his lap to align the tip of his veiny dick with your entrance. Slowly he dropped you, his length furrowing its way up your cavity with no difficulty.

The moment his glans was sat and more inches intruded, you finally came. The strength of your release had your whole being shaken up, your climax so intense you couldn’t see anything even through half-lidded eyes. Feral moans escaped your lips, every inch of Marcus’ cock intensifying the climax that had you on its tight grip.

Your inner walls hugged his cock, choked it actually. Your heart was racing so fast, you could feel the heartbeat in your quivering cunt, a sensation so overwhelming it almost sent you over the edge again.

You hadn’t realised, but Marcus was completely seated inside you, buried down to the hilt, his balls intimately kissing your puffy lips. Fullness tugged at your walls, stretching them, still adapting around his girth. He was everywhere ― filling every crevice, every nook and cranny. You felt his presence so intensely, it was staggering.

“Oh Gods…” Marcus sounded like he was within an inch of his life. “You feel so good, melculum. So warm, so wet, s-so… uhm… so tight. Heaven on Earth,” he prayed in a hush, his tone almost breaking. “How… are you feeling?”

“Blissed out,” you hummed. “Full, in the best way possible.”

Those were all the words Marcus needed to hear from you. He had been to hell and back, and even though his cock had been barely stimulated, he was throbbing for you. Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he felt this… needy.

And now he was in heaven, his shaft sweetly embraced by your wet warmth. A gift you were, sent by Gods themselves ― there was no other explanation.

Marcus’ forearms were still resting on the back of your thighs, then he hoisted you up ever so slightly, moving you up his length so you would free a few inches of his cock. The cold air of the room clung onto his damp shaft, a shiver running down his spine, then placed you back down on his lap.

Every time he pushed you up and down on his lap, you would moan like a woman possessed. Your little sobs and whimpers were the best melody he had ever listened to ― so quiet, yet so wanton. They filled your mouth and spilt over your lips like honey. He would drink them right now if he could.

His dick pulsated hard when your pussy fluttered around him, then your walls tensed around him and Marcus snapped his head back against the headboard, a feral groan ringing in his eardrums.

“Do that again, please,” he requested, all his fingers digging in the flesh of your thighs.

“W-what?”

“Squeeze your walls for me, sweetheart. Hug me tight,” Marcus mumbled, struggling towards the end the moment you did exactly as he asked. “For everything that is holy―”

And you did it again, his words dying out as you clamped down on him with a strength that had him delirious. His mind spiralled down and just in the last second, Marcus stopped himself from coming.

“Such a mischievous nymph you are,” it wasn’t an accusation but a compliment. “Let me see if you’re still playing with that taut pearl in your pussy the way I’ve shown you.”

When he looked over your shoulder, you coaxed your sodden flaps apart for him, showing him how your fingertips worked your clit. Marcus’ hips jerked up at the irresistible sight, burying himself further down in you. His waist waved underneath you, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

“You’re doing great, mel. Such a good girl,” he moaned in your ear, nipping your lobe. “Do you like that, hm? Rubbing your tight little button?”

Your reply was a trembling whimper, your pursed bottom lip quivering with your eyes shut. Your brows were knitting together, bunny lines hugging your upturned nose. Marcus could feel your need, your palpitations. Your desperation.

“Is it too much, melculum?” You nodded, almost crying now. “I know, sweetheart, but we can remedy that. Do you want to come so you feel better?” Another nod of your head. “Alright, do you think you can ride me?”

“Aye, I want to ride you, Marcus,” you sobbed his name, his balls tensing up into his lower tummy.

Marcus let go of your thighs and helped you accommodate your knees to either side of him, so you were straddling him backwards. His hands caressed your round ass cheeks, eyes locked on where your bodies connected.

“Do whatever feels right, honey.”

Overtaken by instinct, you leaned forward and placed your hands between his calves, fisting the bedsheets as you started bouncing your hips up and down on his lap. Marcus let you find your rhythm, standing still underneath, letting you use him as needed.

The sweet choke of your pussy was too much ― too tight, too wet, too warm. This was the best he had felt in fucking decades, all thanks to you. Slowly, he matched your thrusts with his own, fucking up into you, meeting you halfway while his hands on your hips kept you grounded.

The slapping of his testicles on your swollen fold went on for a few minutes, a lewd cacophony echoing between the walls of his bedchamber. And soon enough he found himself grasping for control, his cock pulsating uncontrollably inside you.

You might have felt his pulse, because you spoke between choked wails.

“You can come inside, I can take―”

“What? No,” his response was instinctual, cutting you off before you finished. “You don’t need to take anything.”

Because the mere idea of you drinking some sort of potion so his seed wouldn’t take made him sick. Was that what your late husband had taught you? Was that how you were treated in bed, like a simple plaything to be used to satiate a man’s lust?

Those thoughts were deserted the moment your entrance squeezed hard around him, your moans mixing with the clapping sound of skin on skin. You pushed down your hips onto his lap, your sweet ass flush with his lower tummy. He felt another orgasm hit you and Marcus fucked you through it, steadily rutting up into you.

His own climax was near, all his muscles tensing with anticipation, his hips stuttering. With the last drop of his sanity, he lifted your butt up, his erection becoming free and resting between the swells of your ass cheeks. A second later, white ropes painted the small of your back while Marcus let go of a guttural groan.

With a fucked-out expression and a sweet grin, you looked over your shoulder and down at his spent sliding down your back. Marcus reached for the bedsheet and cleaned his cum off your skin delicately, his brown eyes fixed on your emerald ones.

“You’ve done extremely well for me, melculum. Exquisitely well,” he remarked, his hands smoothing over your thighs. “Come here.”

You turned around and laid down besides him, the upper half of your body resting on top of his torso. Your cheek rested on his sternum while his fingers traced invisible lanes on your arm, just above your elbow.

A moment of quietness lingered as your rapid breaths calmed down, your hearts settling back into a normal pace at the same time.

“I thought it was bad for you,” you muttered, the palm of your hand splaying right underneath his belly button.

“What was?” Marcus asked, confused.

“Uhmm…” you paused for a second, dubious, but then decided to trust him with your questions. “Coming outside. I was told it was extremely painful for the man to come if you are not buried… deep inside of a pussy.”

Your words awakened something with him, something dark and primal ― protective. For a moment, Marcus wished your husband was alive, so he could teach him how to be a real man. He had started to create a picture of what your sex life had been so far, and it wasn’t a pretty one.

In retrospect, he regretted having taken you so hastily in the garderobe. Barely took the time to work you to a climax. Marcus had paid worshipping attention to your breasts, but when it came to your clit, he had not been as attentive. Marcus should have shown you how good that could feel, should have taken his sweet time like he had done today, but he had been too anxious to fuck you.

Marcus looked for the best way to tell you without making you feel naïve. He didn’t want you thinking something like that, that he would force his seed on you for his own pleasure.

“That’s not how it is, mel. I’m sorry you’ve been told that,” his lips brushed your red crown, then pressed a kiss on your forehead. Could you hear how hard his heart was pounding with rage? One he was trying to quiet down. “I can come outside just fine, that’s not an issue. I prefer that a thousand times over you having to drink some nasty potion that will end up hurting you.”

His care for you was genuine, and Marcus was shocked at the truth that thought held. He barely knew you, but what he had seen of you so far had him reeled in like a fish attached to a rusty hook.

You were so direct, snappy even, with a sarcastic retort always at the ready. Your strong personality was refreshing, especially to someone like Marcus, used to be surrounded by women who would bow their head down at the sight of him. But knowing this side of you now―a tad insecure and inexperienced, rediscovering what sex was really like―, he wondered how much of your façade was just that, a carefully built stonewall to keep people at bay.

“Oh, I see,” you muttered, the skin between your brows pinching.

Marcus tilted your chin up with his thumb. His gaze roved over your face, studying it and finding that you seemed to be upset, possibly with yourself. He didn’t like that.

His thumb stroked your bottom lip to relax your pouting expression.

“If you were told such a thing, it’s normal that you believed it. I just don’t want to lie to you, don’t want to take advantage of you, melculum. I want you to enjoy yourself, to discover what you like and don’t like in bed.” The hand that was caressing your arm travelled down your back, went over the swell of your round globes until he found the slick of your arousal clinging onto your pussy lips. He stroked them carefully, buttering your sticky cunt with your own juices. “This is how I want you, sweetheart. Creamy and satisfied. That’s all I care about.”

You hummed at his words, eyes shut and mouth agape. His fingers pried your pussy open, the cold air on your wet, sensitive skin made you shiver on his chest.

Acacius knew too damn well what he was doing, taunting you again like this. You didn’t think you had it in yourself to come again, but the General seemed to think otherwise.

His index found your clit and stroked it maddingly slow. Seemed like he was right.

You gasped, chewing your bottom lip, your mind drifting away at his intimate touch.

“I think you can come for me again, don’t you?”

You whimpered in response, lifting your bent left leg until it rested on of his lap, so he could reach your swollen, reddened pussy better. You humped the side of his thigh, grinding on his hairy skin to get you off.

“You’re drenched,” he purred with satisfaction, kissing your forehead as your seeping hole sucked in his finger eagerly. You moaned. “Seems like you need me to take care of you again, mel.”

His fingering had you drooling onto his chest until you came again, sobbing like a babe gasping for their first breath. Your limbs felt numb as your pussy pulsed a few more times, releasing the last of your arousal onto Marcus’ palm. He rubbed your seam, cupping your whole pussy, until you were completely done.

Then tapped your cunt softly, gently. “Feeling calmer now?”

You nodded, blissed out and speechless.

You remained on top of his chest while coming down from your latest high. You had lost count of how many times Marcus had made you come now, but keeping count had not been on your foremind. What you had realised though was that this―whatever this was―was dangerous.

You had expected Marcus to behave exactly like Iain ― to take you how he wanted and discard you when he was done with you. Yet here he was, making sure you had no more orgasm to give him tonight. This was not your plan at all ― you banked on him being a complete monster who would ravish you given the chance.

This could complicate everything, and you even wondered if you should stop this madness before shit got too real.

A man with a rotten heart would not have you question your decisions. Perhaps it wasn’t rotten, only spoilt.

It’s just sex, a means to an end. Doesn’t matter how good, how fucking delicious he makes it to be. Fuck him, enjoy it, get what you need from him, then destroy him. Easy, you reminded yourself, albeit with less determination than before.

“I should be going,” you mumbled, unwilling to leave this bed despite the inner talk you just gave yourself ― your bed that now was his.

“So soon?” he whispered, his lips twitching in a pout.

Damn him for making it difficult to leave.

“My aunt will be wondering where I’ve gone. Can’t risk her coming here looking for me, can we?” you tried to make light of the situation with a white lie.

“I guess not,” he finally agreed after a brief silence, then kissed your forehead. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Patience is a virtue, Marcus,” you mocked him a bit, sitting up on the bed. “And mine has run out, I’m afraid. Aye, I’ll come tomorrow.”

Marcus sat up on bed too, hugging your waist, his mouth dangerously close to yours.

“I will make sure that you come tomorrow, mel,” the double meaning was not lost on you, even less on your gushing pussy.

You swallowed a whimper, kissing his lips briefly to then jump out of bed and grab your clothes off the floor. You put them on as fast as you could.

“You better,” you threatened him, softening the gesture with a wink, before you disappeared through the door.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel

@pepperstories @mewantpeepaw @inept-the-magnificent

[voidofthevoidmv]

Chapter 1: That’s How Friendships Start, Ya Know? (PT 1)

Momo Ayase woke up angry.

Now sure, it is common among young children to wake up “on the wrong side of the bed” or just plain grumpy for no apparent reason. But this was different, considering the fact that Momo Ayase had a pretty good reason to be mad, at least from her professional 8-year-old perspective.

She was mad at her Granny.

Maybe it was impulsive and irrational, but she was a 2nd grader for crying out loud! A girl like her could easily be described as nothing but a little ball of frustration, spite, and apple juice. And so, upon waking up that morning- Her decision was made.

Little Momo made it her sole mission to ignore her grandmother the best she could- So the old lady knows JUST how mad she was.

“Breakfast is on the stove kid.”

“HMPH!” Momo made sure to huff EXTRA loud, so it was obvious she really really was ignoring her. In fact, the little girl didn't even spare her grandmother a passing glance as she tilted her nose up into the air, eyebrows furrowed in a clear expression of indignation. Snatching up her nearby school bag- Which due note, looked rather large on herself- She leaned forward in front of the older senior once more, in hopes of REALLY garnering a reaction.

“HMMMMPH!!!”

Mouth pursed tightly, and her tiny hands a vice on her backpack straps- A flash of triumph pulsed through her little body awaiting her senior's reaction. She sure showed that old hack... Is what she thought-

-But the crude triumph fades quickly, as the older woman ignored her as well, her grandmas face stoic as she lights another cigarette and places it to her glossy lips. After a moment, the old lady lets out a puff of smoke and doesn't even bother to blow it in any other direction but Momos face- Causing the little girl to cough at the stench. But even so, Momo stood her ground.

“So that's how it is...” The elder murmurs, the cigarette firmly pinched between her teeth as she turns away from her granddaughter in order to eat her breakfast- There was no reaction. No apologies for tricking her. NOTHING. The old woman was clearly unfazed, much to Momo’s chagrin.

With a much more genuine red-faced huff, Momo turned swiftly away from the scene and stomped against wooden floors on her way over to the front door- Slamming her heels with a purpose, and practically SHOVING her little feet into her light up sneakers. She placed a hand on the doorknob before turning around to look at her grandparent again, who seemed to laze about without a care in the world.

Reaching a clear boiling point, the 2nd grader stomped one singular time more, eyes blazing with childlike fury as there was once again was no response- Before she clenched her rusty brown eyes tightly, removing the frustrated tears.

“AND I WON'T SAY SORRY!” Momo shouted loudly, face now extremely red and pudgy fingers on the doorknob- Twisting and wrenching the door open only to slam it once again as she exited the household.

Seiko Ayase only sighed. Who knew raising such a temperamental kid would be so hard...

Talk about a meltdown.

“Stupid! Stupid! She doesn't even CARE!”

The sounds of tall grass rippling through endless golden fields were lost to the 2nd grader as she practically plowed a new path into the hardened dirt road beneath her feet- Having already crossed past the threshold of her own residence and was now making her way rather fiercely to school.

The little girl was pretty steamed still, but her earlier temperament had faded a great amount, and now a portion of her frustration was replaced with the swirling feeling of uncertainly.

She had almost done it again- Raised her pointer to the crest of her head in ritual just as she had always done every day on the path to school- It was instinct at this point, and that as well made her mortified to no end.

Quick as a whip she wrenched her hand downwards again- Cheeks flush with indignance.

“Nooo... I'm BRAINWASHED now!”

It was all her grandmother's fault. She had tricked Momo into imagining the validity of this so-called ritual. But all its ever done was led to embarrassment, heartbreak, and a cramped-up arm.

She was so used to doing it, that now as she walked in stride the path she’s always walked before- The notion of NOT doing the ridiculous movement felt unnatural and wrong. How ridiculous was that? But she chose to ignore this feeling- In favor of the righteous fury she held instead.

Today, Momo now has no sort of “So-called” protection, arms held stiff to her sides as the soft countryside gradually began to meld into sharp buildings and city border smells. Her soft short brown hair curling behind her ears and bouncing with every step of the way.

Unfortunately, oftentimes when Momo Ayase is in the midst of her frustration- She tends to be a tad bit unobservant- Leading her to where she was now a few wrong turns later- Her angry feet having led her onto a new path- Unseen before.

It was a tunnel, all cold and dark and abandoned with danger tape and cones. Perhaps in the dark, the tunnel would seem a whole lot more spooky- But in the light of day it didn't seem so much of a threat….

CONT:

You can find the rest of chapter one part 1 on my ao3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/62113495

There’s only the one chapter so far but I hope to continue it some more cuz I think the idea is VERY silly trust- This is a fun AU trust- I have a lot of lore for it and plans for chapters that diverge from canon mwahaha-

[canarydarity]

(Happy Team Rancher week!! :D this is for today, the last day, AU fest. this is an au that I've had on the back burner for a while, but its for a ya book series I read in middle school and absolutely adore, and so I'm really glad I was able to finish this scene up and get it out here for the event!! The very basic premise is that Tango, Impulse, Skizz, and Etho are students at a teenage spy school. On their first ever field training mission, Tango meets Jimmy. Exceedingly, exceptionally normal Jimmy. Enjoy :) <3)

Hermitville looked as if every store-front was painted neatly on wooden slats and propped up from behind by a 2-by-4, its display perfectly weathered and distressed to look as if you could turn the cardboard handle and walk through the door of a family-run business, 75 years strong. But the fact was that you actually could do that—these were real stores in a real town, no matter how striking their resemblance to the set of every small-town-America movie in the world, ready to be broken down and disposed of to make room for the next.

The phenomenon was always made worse by how little Tango actually entered the town despite living 12 miles down the road from it. Its existence was just close enough to feel, parsable from the air like the scent of rain off asphalt, and simultaneously far enough to be alien to him, made all that much weirder by its small town charm, suffocatingly mundane and unconditionally normal. No strings, no contingencies, no Christmas dinners interrupted by last minute covert missions to foreign embassies. 

There were string-lights hanging between the lamp-posts, it was cute. Tango felt unbelievably itchy. 

The comm in his ear crackled. “How ya doing up there, Legacy?” 

Skizz sounded like he was enjoying himself entirely too much. It made Tango grumble a little under his breath, not caring if it was loud enough for the comm to pick up or not. Maybe if he was lucky, the others would attribute it to static. 

Or maybe they’d attribute it to Etho, giving he whined back, “I hate that code name.”

“Okay, Prodigy.” Tango cut in, knowing Etho would hate that one equally as much if not more. What could he say, he gets bitchier when he’s grumpy, and wandering around in the cold stuck in the state of perpetually failing his first CoveOps mission was certainly doing it for him. 

“Tang—”

Maybe he went a little too hard, though, if he got Etho to break protocol and use his real name over what technically counted as a confidential communications outlet. Oops.

“Tango,” Impulse interrupted—not overly-peeved enough at his friend to use his real name, just equally as hopeless when it came to CoveOps to the point he likely forgot they were supposed to be using code names in the first place. “Where are you, I lost you again.” 

Tango didn’t have to turn around and face the direction he’d last seen Impulse to be able to picture the frown that he absolutely wore. Besides, that would give up his cover, and staying hidden—unmemorable, ignorable, unnoticeable, any of those were fine—was just about the only field trait Tango had. 

“Over by the bank, Impy.”

“Well, wave your arms or something.”

Tango nodded at an old lady who was walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of him, glaring like they were in a store and Tango was sweating carrying too large and heavy a bag as he suspiciously made his way toward the door. She glared harder at his attempt of being polite and turned her head away as they passed one another by. Tango just really couldn’t get enough of that small town charm. 

When she was behind him he dropped the grin and responded, “That kind of defeats the purpose, now doesn’t it?” 

What could’ve been a break of static but was probably Impulse groaning cut through the comm and Tango winced. At least he was good at getting passed by, he imagined Impulse was failing to do even that at the moment. “Well, how am I supposed to follow you following Doc if—”

“He’s flipping,” Etho cut in, and Tango didn’t glance to the left at the park where Doc—their certifiably batshit insane countries of the world professor—was currently using every trick he’d ever been taught on how to lose a tail; not that he knew he was being tailed, he was just that vigilant. Constantly. Cause that was how every normal and well-adjusted person lived their life. 

Instead, Tango kept walking the way he’d been going, stopped to look both directions before crossing the street, approached the closest vendor and bought himself the first thing on the menu without stopping to look at what it was. 

Why on Earth Professor Beef thought the best way to ease them into the field of Covert Operations was to assign them to tail their most paranoid and least sane staff member was beyond him. He could imagine what Beef would say if Tango dared question this decision of his out loud: well you don’t have to get it, you just have to do it. Yipee, he was so glad to be taking this course. 

He couldn’t look for Doc, so he looked for Etho instead. He scanned the street, the sidewalk—hell, even the rooftops—but there was no sign of him. He was that good. 

Show-off, Tango thought as the vendor whistled to get his attention and he turned back with a smile and a thanks accepting a corndog. Nice. 

Tango headed off again, this time towards the park, the direction Doc had been going in, presumably, before he’d flipped. He saw Skizz amidst a sea of letterman jackets, smiling and laughing and miming throwing something with his hands; the crowd he’d accrued laughed with him, boys of all shapes and sizes slapping each other on the arm and guffawing over a guy they would all swear later that they’d had to have had a class with at some point. 

Their methods were different, but it was undeniable—mission one, and Skizz and Etho were good at this. They’d all known they would be. 

Tango wandered around for a while longer, ate his corndog and listened to the chatter of his fellow operatives over the comms, always keeping their updates on Doc’s position in mind and staying busy as he steered clear enough as to not get noticed but close enough he could keep his options open should an opportunity arise. 

In theory, the mission was simple: what soft drink did Professor Doc like to drink with his funnel cake at the Hermitville fall carnival? In practice, it was a lot harder than it looked. They’d all been students of Doc’s for almost 5 years, and while this meant they might know him well enough to predict his patterns in what was maybe a reasonable way, it also meant he knew them well enough to call out their first and last name if he spotted them—and to skip the questioning portion of the interrogation in favor of going directly into doling out detentions. 

This was their professor who used a trusted—and highly confidential—surgeon to give him a new face before the start of every school year for the sake of avoiding some long list of threats still interested in apprehending him that he constantly alludes to but never explains. And Beef wanted them to tail him. It’s not like they had any chance to succeed. And Tango was missing Below Deck for this.

The carnival was beginning to thin out, slowly, by the time anything interesting had begun to happen—at least to Tango. The square had one of those large metal things that looked like a lamp-post but actually had a giant clock in the center, and based on the last time he’d seen it and his impeccable internal clock, it could only be nine-fifteen p.m. It was like this place couldn’t get any more boring if it tried. Tango couldn’t stand it. Tango was jealous. 

He was cutting through the alley behind the town’s lonely diner, heading towards Skizz’s last known location, and was about to throw a line out over the almost eerily empty silence of his comm when Skizz spoke first. Something about the sound of his voice nagged at Tango, and it occurred to him before he opened his mouth to respond that he’d heard Skizz speak out loud, not directly in his ear. 

A second later, and it wasn’t just Skizz. At the first raise of Doc’s voice, Tango stopped walking and leaned as hard as he could into the brick. “I don’t even want to know how you got out and—actually, how did you get out?”

Tango only spent a moment questioning whether or not he was about to make a mistake before he leaned towards the edge of the alley until he could get enough of a picture of what was going on. Doc’s back was to him—thank god—but Skizz and Impulse were done for, the two of them sitting on a bench before their increasingly irate professor. Skizz was at his most diplomatic, sitting still and face severe with the kind of look that said I am listening to you and I understand. Impulse was cringing so hard at the having-been-caught that his left eye looked swollen shut.

Skizz raised one of his hands to halt Doc’s tirade—a risky move, but if anyone could pull it off it was Skizz. “Professor, if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what!” Tango winced with his friends in solidarity, even though he wasn’t the one getting reamed. “You’ve been following me for thirty minutes, which means you have to be—wait,” Doc said, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. “Wait a minute—where’s Beef?”

Tango watched as Skizz and Impulse—spies in training, yes, but still teenage boys at heart—shared a look with each other that gave away exactly what Doc needed to know. Skizz said: “Why I don’t know what you could mean, Professor, we were just—”

“Oh you—” From behind, Tango watched Doc shake his head to cut Skizz off, and then he did something kind of miraculous: he turned and tossed something—something shining and made of brown glass, something suspiciously bottle shaped—into the closest trash can. “Go on, now. Back, back to where you came from.” 

Tango stared at the garbage that couldn’t be more than twenty feet from him, even as Doc herded two of his best friends off of the bench and on into the night, the vague direction of the mansion; in his peripheral Skizz turned to glance at Doc and open his mouth, one more attempt at reason, before Doc departed one more and I’ll be giving you an extra credit assignment to really complain about. 

Tango honestly wasn’t even sure they were out of sight by the time he left the wall and the relative safety of the alleyway, not even considering the risk as somewhere inside he reeled at the thought it couldn't possibly be this easy. As he crossed the street, half of him expected to get scruffed by the back of his shirt and dragged all the way to his dorm, the other half expected to look inside and find the bottle to already be gone, even though his eyes hadn’t left the can, and for Etho to wander out of some shadow with it already in his hand. But the street was blessedly, amazingly quiet the whole time Tango made his way over. 

The garbage can was mostly empty even though the town had just had a carnival—because of course it was, towns like this probably didn’t produce any trash at all, Tango should’ve goddamn known—meaning Tango had to brace one of his arms on the lip of the metal can and hop slightly with his other arm outstretched to grab the bottle and pull it safely out of the trash. 

The condensation had made the paper labeling start to peel away in places, but the brand was still, for the most part, entirely legible—their mission was complete, and by Tango no less. He couldn’t wait to get back and rub it in Etho’s face. 

Tango tossed the bottle in the air and caught it, mood turning around for the first time all night—not even the 12 mile walk home in the dark could daunt him now. 

He turned around to begin his trek and found himself instead frozen immediately to the spot. 

There was a boy. 

Across the street, paused in the middle of the sidewalk and staring right at him, was a boy. And he’d seen Tango. 

Tango, whose only natural talent in CoveOps was going unnoticed. Tango, whose codename was cipher, after a joke Impulse made about his tendency for hiding in plain sight. Tango, who’d just rooted around in the garbage for someone else’s trash. 

The boy stopped to look both ways before crossing the street, even though it was now almost 9:30 pm and seemingly passed town curfew by how empty it’d gotten. There were no cars by sight nor by sound on this road or any of the surrounding blocks, but the boy looked to his right, then his left, then his right again before stepping off the concrete and onto the asphalt. There was even a moment of pause when his foot touched down on the road, and a slight furrow to his brow that had Tango imagining him thinking but there’s no crosswalk here! 

A better spy might’ve done something else—found the closest out, used the perfect excuse or expertly timed joke—but Tango just stood there, and watched the boy approach. 

“Hi there,” he said, a slight Virginia twang to his words that really drove home the all-American look about him, the swoopy blonde hair and lithe but athletic build—perfect for winning throws at football games or moral-gathering posters of government propaganda. 

“Do you….dig through trash cans often?” The prom king illusion shattered immediately as the boy cringed and shook his head, descriptive adjectives like polished becoming more awkward, perfect turning into endearing. “No—that sounded rude, I’m so sorry, I meant it as more of a joke, really…an unfunny one, I guess.” The rounder part of his cheeks pooled, filled deeply with blush. 

Tango opened his mouth, unsure what he planned to say, but then the boy went, “Oh my gosh, not that I judge that—or, well, maybe a little. But I—I’m sorry, and I shouldn’t, that’s wrong and, and—“ he paused abruptly, his head clearly moving faster than his mouth, the level of disaster that was this conversation running away from him and seeming far worse than it was when it’d started. 

“There are nicer trash cans, even,” He said when he opened his mouth again, and Tango nearly lost his mind, turned his laugh into a cough and wondered if all exceedingly normal people were so…cute. “Closer to the center of town. I can…show you where those are instead, if you prefer?” 

Tango couldn’t help his smirk. “You offering to take me on a tour of the nicer trash cans in town?” 

“I—“ Tango watched the boy's face buffer as all the things he just said caught up to him, and he looked down, bashful. After a moment, he smoothed out the embarrassment like wrinkles on fresh sheets and looked back up at Tango confidence renewed. “That or a milkshake, maybe?” 

The boat had stopped rocking, they’d made it to solid land, and the conversation righted itself and worked its way towards something normal—or at least, what Tango thought normal was supposed to look like. He’d never been asked something so simple as would he like to get a milkshake with a cute and utterly mundane boy. 

Things that Tango most definitely was not. His cover, on the other hand…

Right, his cover. In a logical and completely sane move, Tango blurted out, “I have a cat.” 

The boy blinked a blink that pushed his whole head back an inch from its force. “Ex…cuse me?” 

“I have a cat,” Tango repeated, begging his brain to fill him in on the rest of the reasoning behind why he said this particular thing at this particular moment. Were cats deathly allergic to milkshakes, or something? Well, screw his imaginary cat, Tango wasn’t! 

He said: “She…likes to play with bottles. I kinda grab them whenever I can.”

“Etho!” He added, and then mentally slapped himself upside the head. This was precisely why he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near field work. “That’s my cat’s name, yup! Mhm, so, I’d take you up on that, but—“

“But you have to get back to your cat?” The boy said, his cheek bunched under one of his eyes like he wanted to believe that but had heard one-too-many a ridiculous excuse before and wasn’t quite sure. 

“Exactly.” Tango let out a breath. Jesus Christmas this was hard—where the hell was Skizz when Tango needed him? Oh, right. This was not at all how the night was supposed to go.

Conversation lapsed, but Tango failed to notice his opportunity for an out. The spy in him knew deep down that this was his chance to leave, to apologize for the lack of a milkshake and laugh off the fumble that was their interaction and begin his long walk back to school, knowing by the time the boy god home he’d forget all about having met Tango at all; the teenager in him stared at the freckle at the inner corner of the boys left eye. 

“Sorry, you’re new around here, aren’t you?” 

Tango continued staring. This was the third time the boy had apologized. 

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve lived here…all my life?” His voice lilted higher at the end, almost like he was posing a question rather than making his case. “Everyone here has lived here all their life and I’ve…never seen you before.”

Tango has too, in a way. Home was a complicated concept for a spy; he may not be one yet, but his parents were—he knew enough to understand. It wasn’t like his childhood went untouched from the transient nature of spy work, a suitcase and go-bag always ready by the door. Even if he was the one being left and not the one doing the leaving, Tango knew flexible, he knew inconsistent. 

For years his most stable constant had been school, his mom in the headmasters office, Skizz Impulse and Etho. Where was home but here? 

He couldn’t say that, that wasn’t the cover. After years of being told I’ll be back soon with no indication of when soon was and little clarification of back from where and absolutely zero certainty that was something that could be promised, Tango resented lying. He wasn’t meant to be forming covers—he was meant to be locked in a lab somewhere, but one term of CoveOps at the start of sophomore year was a requirement. A requirement Tango would have to get through. 

Tango had never seen the boy before either. He didn’t know how to respond. 

“But, hey, I guess I’ll be seeing you around? At school?”

“No!”

The word was short and sweet, one syllable, something if the rampant apologizing was any indication the boy had not insignificant experience hearing. But his head tilted on the axis of his chin, lilting higher into the air and away from the middle of his chest—the dog that thought it’d heard a word it knew and was trying to determine if it was of the good or bad variety. “…No?”

Tango cringed. Probably visibly. “I’m…homeschooled,” was the lie, this time. 

“Oh, alright,” Tango hoped the drop in his tone was disappointment and not disbelief. He hoped the boy blessedly naive of the ways Tango was being false and not incorrectly assuming him indifferent to their chance encounter. 

Unwilling to bet on the chance and deeply reluctant to do what he knew a good spy should—remembering too many holidays gone remiss, and birthdays of the ill-get-you-next-year variety—Tango said, “I’ll be around, though.” 

The boy brightened, one of those artificial lamps that mimics sunlight where sunlight doesn’t reach, from darkness to light in mere seconds—like it was simple, easy. Ill so readily forgotten. 

“Good,” the word was delivered with an amicable nod. “Better get home to Etho, then.”

There was a moment of pause as Tango prepared to exclaim Etho?!? Suddenly in fear that he’d somehow found the one normal boy who wasn’t normal at all and was actually some sort of enemy spy, Tango accidentally blubbering his way through giving up national secrets he didn’t even know he knew—and then he remembered what he named his fake cat. 

“Right! Etho, yes…right, gotta get back to,” —had he given his fake cat pronouns?!— “yup! Okay, bye then.” 

Tango turned with great effort, his eyes shut and the rational part of his brain begging him to get a grip, his hands clasped tightly around the slightly icky with condensation bottle of soda that he’d come here to claim and by some miracle had. He hadn’t gotten more than a step or two away before the boy called, “Hey, what’s your name?” 

And Tango made possibly the stupidest decision of the night—despite all the competition, that’s pretty impressive, he knows—and called back, “Tango.”

“It was nice to meet you Tango!”

Tango smiled over his shoulder at the boy, walking backwards down the road he’d been so cautious to cross before, wanton joy on his face and something Tango didn’t dare to name, hands in his pockets. “You too,” Tango laughed. 

“My name’s Jimmy, by the way!”

The comm in his ear crackled to life after too long staying suspiciously silent before Tango could do anything about that, and he heard what he knew to be Etho saying, “Cipher, meet me at the corner of Pine and Cherry.” 

The sobering bucket of ice water dumped on your head after a particularly rough all-nighter, Tango felt his nerves wake up one by one; his spine was suddenly straighter and everything a little more on edge than it’d been a few minutes ago. He resisted the urge to scan the roofs and the streets and the shadows. He ignored the shame that said he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t have been; he kind of already knew that, but something in him also wished this had just been for him. Bye Jimmy, Tango thought in reply before saying, “Yeah man, on my way.”

Forget milkshakes and normal boys, Tango had some bragging to do. Other than to resent lying, if there was anything being the child of spies taught him, it was how to mask disappointment. 

He turned the corner toward Etho without looking back. 

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: Swearing, brief mentions of expecting assault, Rory doesn't know anything about makeup and here is more makeup. A kiss. A/N: This story is opposite of my Kid Buggy series and I love that for myself.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e

Chapter 5

Despite your argument, fight, whatever it was after breakfast, Buggy kept an eye on you as you practiced holding your breath under water with one hand at the top of the tank to fish you out if needed. With his hand near you, he made a point of going to various points of the tent, trying to see if he could see your face while you were underwater to validate his reasoning for putting makeup on you.

You really didn't want to but as he said at breakfast, he was in charge. 

And after everyone was done for the evening and the two of you headed back to your shared room, he waited until you changed into dry clothes before sitting you in front of his vanity and pulling out different kinds of makeup. You had a grumpy expression on your face as he looked at various kinds and colors, trying to find something that was colorful and bright while also being waterproof. 

“Turn that frown upside down, Cupcake.” He chuckled as he held up a pink eyeliner pencil and knelt in front of you. “I'm going to take care of you, don't worry. The audience will be able to see this gorgeous face of yours all the way in the back row.”

And there it was again, those words he said so freely to you and others, but you had come to hope he actually meant them when he said them to you.

He held your chin to keep your head still as he murmured for you to close your eyes as he held the pencil up. You just stared back at him, looking into his eyes and feeling lost for a moment before he repeated himself and you listened, shutting them tightly as though this was going to be painful.

“Relax, Cupcake.” He said softly as he moved the eyeliner across your eyelids gently, keeping his hand steady so as to keep the line straight and to not poke you. “I got you.”

You swallowed heavily and nodded, though your movements were restricted by him holding you. He was so close to you right then, you could feel his breath on your face and the warmth of his body as he moved the pencil over your other eye. He chuckled softly and let go of your chin so you opened your eyes.

“Looking good already.” He told you as he looked for the next piece. “This eyeliner says it's waterproof so we will have to try it out later, maybe when you take a bath or something.”

You just nodded, watching as he checked the labels on various mascaras and other things that he had. It made you wonder if he used all of this stuff himself or if he just accumulated it all over time.

“I know your schtick is to wear that old Marine uniform, but I wouldn't say no to seeing you in that mermaid tail.” He told you as he looked back over at you. “You don't have to wear that clamshell top if you don't want to, either be topless or wear something else.”

“It may be hard to get in and out of the tank with the fins.” You pointed out as he took hold of your chin again. You jumped a little at his touch and he immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry, uh, you can keep doing that.”

He looked into your eyes for a moment, looking for any signs of discomfort before he took your chin in his hand again before he started with the mascara. In reality, if he gave you the makeup he wanted to use you could have applied it yourself, but he never gave you the chance. He just took charge of the situation, much like your haircut, and… you kind of liked it.

Of course you weren't going to say anything. 

“Someone can lift you out.” He said as he set the mascara aside. “We'll figure something out to add some flashiness to your act “

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. “Can I ask you something, Captain?”

“What?” He was looking through different eye shadow palettes, looking for any of them that indicated they could be waterproof. “I'm an open book so ask away.”

“Why are you so against me doing anything risky?” You asked. “And don't give me the shit about the other performers, that's not a valid reason.”

He didn't respond right away, still rummaging through the drawer to find what he needed. You took a chance and leaned forward, touching his arm lightly. He shrugged and looked at you.

“Maybe I don't want you to get hurt.” He said, his voice surprisingly calm as he spoke. “Ever think of that? If something happens to you while you're in the water, I can't help you, so don't suggest shit like that anymore.”

“You always have someone watching me though.” You frowned. “You can stage someone to be ready to help me if something is going wrong.”

“Can I ask you something then?” He asked sharply, his tone surprising you just a bit. You nodded. “Why are you so ready to put yourself in harm's way?”

“I'm… I'm not.” You said as you pulled your hand back.

“You were ready to drown yourself shortly after meeting me.” He pointed out. “And now you're suggesting adding an extra layer of danger to this act. Either you have a death wish or a dark sense of humor, both of which I don't like coming from you.”

You shrugged and looked down at your lap. “‘s how I'm coping.”

“Coping with what?” He sighed as he found a bright green eyeshadow that may be waterproof. 

“Being here.” You mumbled. “And processing everything, like going from feeling like I was going to be killed by you when I first met you to you having a cup of tea for me. You even let me sleep in your bed last night and… you didn't do anything.”

“What were you expecting me to do?” Buggy asked as he grabbed a brush for the eyeshadow. “Hm?”

You didn't look at him and shrugged. “Take advantage of me.”

“Glad to know you think so highly of me.” He muttered as he grabbed you by the chin again, still as gentle as before, as he held the brush tinged with the green powder. “I'd hope you trust me enough to close your eyes for me.”

“I trust you.” You said a little quickly before closing your eyes. “It… it's just taking time.”

“Hm, well, I have plenty of time.” Buggy said as he smoothed the brush over your eyelids carefully. He muttered something about the powder getting everywhere and before you knew it, his thumb was moving around your eye, removing the excess. You found yourself leaning into his touch for a moment, only to open your eyes when he pulled his hand back. “You good, Cupcake?”

You didn't realize how much you had leaned into him because your hand was on his chest and your face was inches from him.

“I…am good.” You pulled back from him, leaning as far into your seat as possible. “Sorry. Distracted.”

Buggy said nothing as he set the mascara down and looked for lipstick next. Your heart was pounding and you were feeling embarrassed. You needed to get a grip because you just spoke of him not taking advantage of you, but what were you doing just now? Leaning into his touch, getting close to him, he was going to think you were up to something and then what? You'd end up tossed out on your ass. He didn't want you in that way, he was your boss. He kidnapped-slash-rescued you from a shitty situation and you felt like you were throwing yourself at him.

“Better a distraction now than when you're in the water.” He muttered as he picked up a bright yellow lipstick. “Let's try this.”

You let him take charge once more, holding you by the chin as he dabbed the yellow color over your lips. You didn't get to smooth it over your lips because Buggy's thumb was there, dragging the color over your lips to even it out. Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to the pad of his thumb, only to feel horrified that you just did that. Either he didn't notice or he did and chose not to say anything, because he pulled his hand back when he was done.

“One more thing, Cupcake, then you're done.” 

You looked up at him, wondering what else he wanted to do to you. He looked at you for a moment before one hand grabbed the front of your shirt and the other hand went to the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You stiffened, not expecting that, but you soon relaxed as your hands went to his head, cupping his face as you returned the kiss. 

This was not what you expected to happen.

He pulled back just a bit, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he looked over your makeup. There was red around your mouth, accenting the yellow, and he smirked at the additional color.

“I think this will work for you, y’know.” He chuckled as he pulled his hands away. “I like the red on you.”

~

You barely slept. Buggy mentioned the possibility of another storm and you were in his bed again for the night. He wasn't lying and while it wasn't as loud and violent as the previous night, you appreciated that you were able to burrow under the blankets on his bed as the wind howled and the rain pounded outside. He was in bed beside you, sleeping on his side facing you, seemingly not bothered by the noise outside like you were. 

It was just weird to be in his bed again. Are you friends now? What was this? He was still your boss but the fact he kissed you earlier had you starting to question some things. Was he just being a tease, or did he have some kind of feelings for you that you yourself were starting to question? Did you like him or, as you mentioned earlier, are you just coping with the change in your life? 

You two certainly argued and raised your voices enough at each other that it was weird if you didn't call him an asshole at least once a day or if he didn't end your practice by dunking your head under water. 

You pulled your head out from under the blankets just enough to look over at him. He definitely looked peaceful as he slept, and you liked the sight of his hair down and his face free of makeup. It was hard not to reach out and run your fingers through his hair, wanting to see if it was as soft as it felt, but that was a risk you didn't want to take.

“What?” He grumbled as he opened his eyes. “It's weird being stared at when I'm trying to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, um… nothing. Sorry.” You replied quietly as you curled up away from him. “Couldn't sleep and…”

“Got distracted?” Buggy grinned sleepily. “By me? Am I too distracting for you?”

“N-No, shush.” You glared at him as your cheeks turned red, but thankfully it was too dark for him to notice. “Go back to sleep, asshole.”

“Hard to when your eyes are on me like that, y’know.” He chuckled. “Feels like you’re undressing me with your eyes, Cupcake. Kind of scandalous to look at your Captain that way.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Your face was burning now. “I am going to smother you with a pillow, Buggy.”

He just smirked at you, almost daring you to even attempt it. Grumbling, you chose to hide your face against your pillow instead. No, no, you weren’t going to smother him while he slept. He was half asleep and being dumb, that was it, trying to rile you up to have you wanting to fight him before you fell asleep. 

“Just don’t try to kiss me when I go back to sleep.” He told you as he moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around as he pulled you against him. “I’d like to be awake for that.”

You wondered if you could just die right then and there from this entire conversation.

[mverickss]

A/n: nah man don't even care at this point of making a brain card for this fic though👽I don't know where this will be going but...also I'm watching the show so please correct me if I am wrong anywhere:) also english is secondary language where I'm from so imma try my best...also there is gonna be some songs from the Hunger Games, especially Snakes and Songbirds that will be mentioned in the fanfic- I JUST LOVE LOVE LOVE THE SOUNDTRACK (never watched the damned movie but spoilers sadly)-  pls pls pls help me out if I miss something pls- plus I know some of ya'll did like the original post but this one's edited because I brainstorm I am sorry if I mix things I did delete the previous yes👀plus this will be more interesting I hope:)

VanderxOC (yes you can insert yourself and no y/n business- we had enough of "my own mother sold me to One Direction ahh I'm not like other girls ahh shortsh*t ahh wearing what the hell I'm not wearing ahh cringe ahh wtfudge")

I don't know where is this going...☠

Masterlist - Hymn to Virgil.

Content warning: language (edited👀🤕)

Chapter One: Pilot

You wouldn't say you missed Noxus.With everything be bit of survival left there was scare...so coming to a new and unfamiliar country was what your brother could do fof the both of you.You miss the familiarity of the streets where you used to live...

Your brother had work...he worked in the mines of course so that left you just...hanging around suppose.You moved to the Undercity about two to three months ago and yet you couldn't much get along with other kids around your neighbourhood...them giving glares noticing how out of place you looked and how unnatural you were among them.You minded your business since then...

You walked and walked and walked until you find yourself somewhere deep in a hole...and talk about that stench... "Lady mother dead fish smells better..." but you walked anyway, softly singing a lullaby, a same old lullaby ypur mother used to or atleast yiur brother with his terrible singing used to sing, bless him and his terrible singing voice...

"Are you, are you coming to the tree...where dead man called out for his love to flee...strange things did happen here no stranger would it be...if we met at midnight in the hanging tre-" "Motherfucker!!" Clang.

You stopped and stood as you watched the broken, what looked like a trinket, smashed on the floor, you then saw a figure approaching it again, a bit grumpy walking towards it mumbling curses and what not that you can't make out of but...you just stood there in place.The figure appear to be a boy, looked tall but appeared to be your size but much older looking probably 10-12 yrs old, his clothes looked dirty slightly, and it looked like he was wearing goggles that seemed to dangle from his neck as he qbent to pick it up the trinket.His head slightly turned expecting no one until his eyes caught up on you, he then froze.Your breathe hitched as he caught you staring mindlessy at him.

It was a moment, about 10 seconds, until you muster up the words. "I'm Athena." You extend your hand, though you were a feet away from eachother.The boy then straightend up, still looking at you with the trinket now in his hand, but he was dead silent. "Uhm, whatca got there?" You pulled your hand back, and he stiffend as you asked clutching the item harder and turned. "Go away." He muttered.His voice sounded like it was at near stage of pubertyYou didn't move however. "I'm not-" "I said go away!" You stood still as you saw the boy now walking away from you, but you were determined however and strangely as you wanted to approach this mysterious yet rude boy.You followed him.

"My brother works at the mines, or factory m'not sure but anyways we moved from Bildgewater to this place about two months ago.Or was it three I'm not sure but anyways-" "On my mother do you ever shut up!" The boy turned and stared daggers at you as you both had halted in your tracks, straing at one another for about a few seconds and then the boy turned again to walk.You frowned a bit, clenching your hands in fists beside you. "Are you always this rude?" "Welcome to the Undercity Blabbermouth." "My name is Athena." You huffed. "Whatever, Blabbermouth."

The boy walked further until he stopped by the ladder leading upwards towards the city."I didn't catch your name." You're still here?!?! He tought to himself."I didn't throw it." He said casually not turning his attention towards you as he climbs on the ladder. "I told you mine so I see it as fair." You climbed with him on the ladder, him leading the way up."You didn't answer my question earlier-" "I don't need to explain myself towards someone like you why I'm "rude", as you say." He opens the manhole above him and steps out, with you following behind of course.You find yourself in the unfamiliar streets gazing upon what your eyes saw.Well what your eyes did make out of was that this was a shady neighbourhood. "Do you-" you glanced up by the boy but find him nowhere beside you until your gaze landed on him walking away. "Hey!" You run up towards him and eventually caught up to him. "I'm starting to think that you're an asshole." "Big words for such a small girl like you." "I'm nine and a half, and I'm not that small" "Oh goodie you want a medal or something, scram!" You still walked beside him, nonetheless."About my question-" "Listen girlie I don't need to explain myself why I'm rude or-" "That's not what I was asking..." You stopped him before he could finish.At this point you both stopped walking, he looked at you slightly taken back. "I was more refering to that thing you're holding onto." He looked down on his hands, ge clutched the trinket like a lifeline."None of your business." "Why did you throw it?" "Like I said it's none of your business" "Did it not work or something?" "Oh my-" He then turned around and came face to face with you. "Listen I don't need to-"  He then froze. You forrowed your eyebrows a bit as you were slightly confused by his sudden change. You looked back and then you saw what he saw. "Shit,Enforcers!" He exclaimed."Wha-" but before you can ask anything you had been dragged  further down the alleyway by the boy, running.Okay so this is lot bizarre.

You run past various unknown places but this boy seemed to know where he was going, you both then stopped at an unfamiliar alleway, he luckily let you go.Catching your breathe you muster your words in between breathes, "What the hell was that?!" "Talk about me being rude I just saved your ass" "What?" You looked confused."There was no danger-" "With them assholes here there is." He said sharply.You stayed silent and watched as he caught his breathe a bit."Who were they-" "Enforcers." "Enforcers?" "Yeah,Enforcers, Blabbermouth have you not heard of em' before?" He said sarcastically.You shook your head. "What?!You never heard-" he scoffed. "Nevermind, is no wonder." You tilt your head raising an eyebrow. "No wonder what?" "No wonder you don't belong." Those words caught you off guard.Sure by the glares other kids may gave you these couple of months, you knew you did stick out of all the bunch. "Where are your parents?" "Where are yours?" You asked and sudden he was much stunned to speak until he smirked a bit. "Mm not bad." This left you a bit confused. You spoke up, I didn't catch.-" but he had already vanished, leaving you alone in the alleyway. "...your name..."

A/n: if you noticed I changed the backstory👽

[hutchersonsgurl]

Baby girl, I need you - Mike Schmidt part 1

paring x fem reader and Mike Schmidt

contains: established relationship, smut 18+ MNDI some fluff mentions of the word daddy

summary: you just got home from work and your boyfriend Mike calls you to meet him at his work.

You just walked inside your house and fell onto your couch exhausted after a long day of work. You knew Mike was at work at the pizzeria and Abby was staying at a friend's house for the night, so you figured it was going to be a lonely night with pizza and your cat.

The pizza you just ordered finally got delivered. As you sat down the pizza on the counter, your phone rang, and you picked it up to see that it's Mike calling.

"Hey, babe, how's work?" You say it as your answer.

"It's alright, kind of boring. The animatronics are kind of mad that I didn't bring you or Abby," he says with a chuckle.

"Aww, are you not paying attention to them?" you ask.

"No, I have not really been too busy daydreaming about you," he responds.

You feel your heart dampen at the statement he just made.

"Uh, baby girl, are you still there?" Mike's questions are breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm here. You just have me thinking about what I'd do if you were here," you say with a purr in your voice.

"Well, how about this, then, baby girl? I need you here with me at work, so bring that fine ass over here and I'll meet you at the door." He says

"Okay, babe, I'll see you in 5," you say.

"Alright, I love you," he says.

"I love you too, daddy," you say and hang up.

You know, every time you call him Daddy, it drives him wild. You smile to yourself as you put down the phone, and as you walk away, your phone blows up with text messages.

"I must have gotten him going," you say to yourself.

You took a quick shower and put on his sweatpants and sweatshirt that you stole from him. Why not? What's his yours too?

You spray yourself with your perfume. Mike's favorite thing that you wear

You put the pizza in the fridge and leave your house, locking your door and getting in your car.

As you drive towards the pizzeria, you can hear your phone in your cup holder vibrating like crazy.

Man, this boy is inpatient, you think to yourself.

You pull up to the pizzeria, and it's starting to pour. Just great, you think.

You pick up your phone and tell Mike that you are here.

In a matter of moments, he replies that he will meet you at the front door.

You get out of the car, lock it, and head to the door. As you reach it, you see Mike unlocking the door and letting you inside.

"Holy hell, woman, you know what it does to me when you are wearing my clothes," he says, admiring the view.

"Well, I just wanted to be comfortable, Daddy," you say with a wink.

You head to the main stage as Mike stays back to lock the door once again.

As soon as you reach the stage, you see Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica turn around and look at you with what you think is a smile.

Bonnie walks off the stage, and he hugs you and pats you on the top of your head. The rest of them come down to meet you and hug you. All three of the animatronics are around you at this point.

"Aww, I've missed you guys too. I'm sorry you have to deal with grumpy old Mike," you say as you hug all three of them.

"Hey, I heard that," Mike says, walking into the room.

You can't help but laugh as Chica winks at you.

Mike walks towards you as Foxy gets in his way, guarding you from Mike.

"Come on guys, I want to spend time with my girlfriend," Mike says.

"Cmon, foxy, be nice," you say.

Foxy moves to the side, and Mike walks over to you and engulfs you in a hug.

"How about we watch a movie with them, and then I get you all to myself?" he asked.

"It sounds good to me," you say happily.

You, Mike, and the animatronics sit in front of a TV that Mike rolled in that he found in one of the old rooms.

You guys watch Lady and the Tramp and spend time with the animatronics.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2 coming soon

Not edited

[teecupangel]

Hiiii teecup!! How are you? Hope you're doing great, or ok at least :3c

Alrighty so I've been craving EziDes lately but I'm too busy to do anything and I have too many ideas so here it goes!

Childhood friends to lovers (god I'm such a massive sucker for this trope)

Now, I have a little bit of plot for this one, cuz this idea have been stuck in my head since 2023 🧍

Okok so it starts like usual. Desmond dies, isu bullshit, time travel, and he face plants right into Renaissance Italy. ALSO he got de-aged, maybe into his 6-7 year old self (I want them to meet pretty early in there lives :'3)

He wanders around for a while not really knowing what to do until a grumpy old lady sees him and how pathetic he looks and decides to hire him to work as her butler/caretaker (or something along those lines I don't really know at this point :'D)

And the lady's rich, not like filthy rich but rich enough. She's been living by herself for years and never got married or have any children (which I'm sure is frowned upon back then) and she's really grumpy, like 40 year old guy who just got home from a hard day of work kind of grumpy.

And most people find her very unpleasant and leaves her alone. So it was strange, downright disturbing to see a kid running around her estate doing chores and having conversations with her.

But anyways Desmond starts living with her, but he's plotting and scheming.... To save the Auditores and take care of the isu bs of course :D.

Desmond didnt plan on meeting with Ezio because he didn't want to mess up the timeline more than he already has...... and then Ezio come waltzing into life.

I don't have any clear idea of how the two would meet but it's I imagine it as extra cute :3c

Desmond is mature for his age..... A bit too mature and he's knows things that most children shouldn't,. All in all he's an odd kid.

Like mistress, like caretaker am I right ¯\_( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)_/¯

Desmond cares about Ezio very much, everyone can see that, and he gets Ezio out of trouble. They're always together, rarely to be seen without the other.

On Desmond's busier days (when he have too many chores to go out) Ezio would come to the lady's estate to chat with him and even help him with some of his chores. He stays out of trouble when Desmond's not with him.... But sometimes he just can't help himself lol.

The lady and Desmond develop a parent child bond and judges people together.

And the rest is up to you because my brain is jelly. (You can name the lady. I don't have any ideas on it LMAO)

(You can also make her an important character or not, I just love her too much to cut her out of the plot)

(SHE ALSO HAD A GIRLFRIEND THAT SHE WANTED TO RUNAWAY WITH BUT SHE DIED AND NOW THAT'S WHY SHE'S GRUMPY ALL THE TIME. Do what you want with this info :3c)

(this turned from an EziDes ask to the lady lore dump, apologies)

I’m doing alright. It’s been a busier month than I expected hahahaha

So, for this one, I’m imagining Desmond’s mistress (as he likes to call her) / adoptive mother to be a collector of sort. Making her a collector of the art seems a bit too easy so we’ll pick something a bit eccentric.

She collects dolls.

Dolls aren’t all that popular during that time and, even when they were, the dolls that is more or less considered ‘acceptable’ are dolls describing the nativity and other religious centered dolls.

But she collects ‘strange’ dolls from foreign lands.

This gives us an excuse for Desmond to speak in other languages, sometimes talking on her behalf to foreign merchants who shows her dolls that she may purchase on a whim.

She knows how to speak some of the languages and it’s not like Desmond knows all the languages as well but she prefers to let Desmond do the talking with merchants she hasn’t dealt with before. (the whole “let’s see if they start talking shit about me because they think I don’t understand them” is a common setup between them)

She and Desmond also like to talk in foreign languages when they want to fuck with other people. They rarely badmouth anyone, talking about the most benign thing while their tone and body language can be misunderstood.

She also only speak in foreign languages when the Auditore boy visits. She calls him ‘Desmond’s boy toy’ or some other equivalent of that and Desmond can’t even tell her that he’s so wrong because then he’d have to explain why he knows that word in the first place.

Their home is filled with dolls of different origin and make. Some are even dolls so old Desmond feels like they should be in a museum in the future.

Ezio doesn’t really like entering their home because he feels like the dolls are watching his every move.

He’s pretty sure that the house is haunted.

Desmond doesn’t help the entire thing because, yeah, he also thinks the house is haunted.

To fuck with Ezio, he tells him that someone died in the house and she still haunts its hallways.

Desmond doesn’t know but someone did die in the house. The lady’s grandfather who used to make wooden dolls for her to play with. That’s where her fascination with dolls started.

She also commissions artists to make her dolls and no one knows where she got her money.

It became normal to see Ezio Auditore with the eccentric old lady’s ward(?)/adopted son(?)/secret grandchild(???) when he’s out for his chores. Ezio Auditore learning how to pick the best vegetables or meat was not something anyone had on their bingo card.

This is a super slow burn kind of deal for EziDes because Ezio started out as thinking of Desmond as his super smart and mature best friend while Desmond started out thinking of Ezio as someone he looks up to and wants to protect.

Really, the old lady is the one who clocked in that yeah, these two are gonna fall in love with one another because that was how her love life started.

Best friends to…

Well…

She just hoped his ending was a happy one.

(If you let me name her, Imma name her Renne and she'll spend most of her time teasing Desmond about his 'nonexistent' love life)

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Browsing for a laptop and getting frustrated bc apparently Windows 11 and such all uses onedrive? Whatever happened to saving locally? When did cloud become the default?

I understand I'm turning into the neighborhood grumpy old lady, but the whole reason I'm switching from my current laptop bc even tho its perfectly functional, I'm wary off google scraping the shit I write on my chromebook to train AI. I'm just getting to the point I don't trust anything internet based.

[raphsmuneca]

Monster pt. 2 - Azrielle

• 18+ • Tmnt AU • Tmnt Bayverse • Aged 30 + • Folklore, Romance, Violence • Inspired by ROTTMNT

((I just wanna let my tumblrinas/inos know, idk where I'm going with this story, but I'll be writing in small pieces & maybe by part 4 things will make more sense.)) :) ♥️🫶🏼

𝓜𝓞𝓝𝓢𝓣𝓔𝓡 (𝓟𝓽. 2) - 𝓐𝔃𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮

-> 𝓟𝓽. 1 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮! <- ⬅️ Part 1

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

There was nothing subtle about Hell’s Deviant Point.

The yokai swam and flew throughout the expanse freely, like an overgrown swarm of creepy crawlers, with their wings and horns. Some of their faces made me want to crawl back into my shell, and others, were human-like and beautiful even. Like the mistress Azrielle Cyprus...

The Boss Master, Izael, was a fourteen-hundred year old, descendant of the sea monster yokai, and now the master of this demon realm. Izael had a twin brother, Izmael; known to the humans as Satan; who was spellbound by a beautiful sorceress, which is said to be responsible for his death. Izael swore in the name of his deceased brother to protect his wee one. The little girl ended up in her uncle’s loving palms and has been with him since. Izael, himself, fathered a daughter of his own, a sweet young yokai, Izamary; the reason for our alliance with the demons and Mikey’s broken heart.

I don’t know how much of the first part is true, but Mikey’s annoying weeping | can vouch for. He was a sucker for love and of all women to walk the earth, he fell for one that didn’t even share the same dimension. But, who was I to speak...

Although, he’d rescue the demon master’s daughter, Izamary nor Azrielle, were allowed to marry outside of their own kind. But somehow, Izael didn’t seem to mind so much our nearness around the young ladies...

Or so Donnie “noted.”

“Raphael-San? Is that you?”

An older, raspy and high pitched voice pulled me out of the deep trance. I looked down to meet the face of the ancient Boss Master, Izael. The short statured demon barely reached my knees. If power was rated by height, I’d say he was as strong as a flea. Hmm...

“That’s right. Unless there’s another wise ass around?”

The elder’s laughter hurt my internal ears.

“Well, well, my son! Please do enter! You bring me silly tales of the human world, I presume?”

The antiquated demon enjoyed stupid stories, mostly that of humans. He found the human species to be “brainless, idiotic, and amusing.”

“Sorry, not tonight. I came because I have some questions, and thought maybe you could help me by answering a few of them for me.”

Izael turned his neck slightly, eyeing me up and down as he did so. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed, the air felt thick, and the servants close by stiffened in their positions. The master’s silence was disquieting, delaying me of my premature inquiries. He knew something, but from my opinion, it was best to let him keep doing the talking.

“I know what you’ve come for, Raphael. Why don’t you follow me to my dojo and we can continue talking there.” He eyed his servants in distaste. “Be gone! Now!” He shooed them, hitting a few of his men with his walking stick.

“You and dad sure do have a lot in common.” That earned me an ugly frown from the old man. He and Splinter were well acquainted, but just like dad, the demon master wasn’t fond of being compared to the other. Grumpy old men. Damn, I sure as hell hope to never end up like them...

Unlike our own, this dojo presented an impeccable atmosphere, with ancient Japanese calligraphy and art adorning the washi walls of the equilateral room. The furnishings showcased a palette of neutral colors, embodying pure zen. Notwithstanding it’s seemingly more confined nature compared to our lair, this space paradoxically felt more spacious and relaxing. For a human, this was hell. For me? Leoless heaven.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my brother. Far from it. I just wished he understood me sometimes. Fuck! I gotta stop looking around and get back to what I came here for...

Answers.

The demon master must’ve read my face, because immediately after taking his seat at the chabudai, he motioned for me to sit across from him.

“Come, Raphael-San. I have much to discuss with you.”From the deep frown on his face, I assume it’s not going to be a tete a teté among a host and his visitor. This was serious and I had an inkling the Boss Master Izael had the answers to my questions long before I decided to come here.

✧༺♥༻✧

…….

“I know I was framed, Izael! But just how the fuck am I gonna find this jerk face if I don’t know his name?”

We were less than fifteen minutes into our conversation, when the demon master claimed to know exactly who the true murderer of that innocent girl was. The flashbacks kept intruding, infuriating me more as the demon lord went on. I remember every detail…Her hand reaching out to me, pleadingly. She wasn’t supposed to be there. The blood. She was just an innocent bystander…

“She was just an innocent girl! Another foolish teen! Why was she even there?! AHHHH!!”

I smashed my fists against the wood of the chabudai. Glad I didn’t break it.

“Easy, my son. All will fall into place in due time.”

“Izael, you know I wouldn’t disrespect you like this, especially after you knighting me and my brothers and welcoming us into your realm. But, please, in the name of fuckery, give me the name of the man who drafted me into his scheme!”

There was pain in his voice as he spoke to me. I could read through the calm of his tone, and from the looks of it, this mystery wasn’t only mine to solve. Izael needed me as much as I needed him.

"The man you seek lives among your kind, but he is a full bred yokai. He disguises himself as a man. Now, you know that I cannot reach your world without penalty or suffering. I’ve been chained to this plane for many a century. There is a night crawler much like yourself, but with ill intent, that has a lead according to one of my henchmen. I didn’t bother to reach you because I knew well that you’d eventually come to me.”

A yokai that lives among my kind? A night crawler? A lead?

“Why didn’t your henchman come to me?!”

“All wealth of news that comes to my attention by one of mine in this realm must be kept here, Raphael-San. You know this. You are a Deviant Knight in this world. You know my rules, and let that be the last time you question my actions.”

The old man was becoming irate with my demanding attitude. What else was new? Keep your mouth shut, dumbass!

“Okay, old man. Just don’t micro dose the information. I’m running out of patience.”

“Very well then. The night crawler I speak of is a vampire, who goes by the name of Nico De’ Jesus. He roams on your terrain as we speak. He is as greedy as he is bloodthirsty. He is the one who has told the story of the defeated terrapin in New York City. My henchman believes to recall the name of the maker of said terrapin’s misfortune after hearing Nico’s tale.”

“So there is someone else behind all this?! I fucking knew it! Agh!”

“There is. Vice.” The old man’s eyes twitched after speaking the name.

“Vice? And why would this “Vice” fella have it out for me? I’ve never heard of the guy before now.”

“Here’s the part you might find unpleasant. He wasn’t necessarily targeting you. To be more specific, he was seeking revenge on Michelangelo. You see, he is the brother of my daughter’s late fiancé, Joker. Or as his old crew liked to call him, Ace. Ace…Joker. Such ridiculous names. Anywho, I had placed an order for his execution. An order Michelangelo took upon himself to deliver, for the sake of my daughter’s safety.”

“Mikey?!”

My chest felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. The news was overwhelming. I had been trying to uncover the enemy who wanted to harm me, but Mikey’s sudden involvement was a shock. Throughout my life, I had been the one pursued, hated, and hunted. But my younger brother had never been in the line of fire. Not Mikey. Even with all the blood on his hands, Mikey never harmed anyone who was innocent. He was the least deserving of both punishment or cruelty of any kind. It all began to make sense…

“A brother for a brother.” My voice was hushed in disbelief. It was difficult to swallow. The only thing on my mind now was Mikey’s safety. Leo. Donnie. My brothers!

“My son, while I acknowledge your anger, I must make a most unpalatable request of you. I need the bold and audacious yokai…alive.”

This is no time for making requests. The old man must be losing his senses.

“Alive?! Forgive me, Izael, but have you gone mad?!”

Izael sighed now. He seemed agitated and at the same time, spent.

“Raphael, I need him here, do you understand? It is my judgement to make. He shall be punished under my court of law!”

I guess Izael had forgotten who I was. It was one thing to hunt disobedient yokai that brought harm to this world, but for a yokai to bring chaos into my world, to my life, to my brother’s life? No one was going to stop me from ridding both worlds of that demon! No, Izael. I'm sorry my friend, but this fuck face was mine to handle, and mine alone.

“Right.”

I got up to leave, but in less than a second, the demon master held a hand on my sai, stopping me from taking my leave.

“In order to make sure you follow my rules, Raphael, I’ll be sending someone with you. I do have eyes and ears in your world, but I need a voice of reason in my stead.”

Fuck! He’s onto me. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m a crappy liar.

“And just exactly who is this “voice of reason” that you speak of? And please don’t say it’s Silver Wing.”

A smirk formed on the demon’s face. In return, I gave him one of my shit eating ones. To think he could best me. Pfft!

“No, you belligerent beast! My niece, Azrielle, will be your guide.”

It felt like a frog had been lodged in my throat. I was so mouthy before and now I was tongue-tied! I had to take a moment before the air fought it’s way back into my lungs.

“Azrielle?”

“Yes. AZRIELLE!! Come child!” Izael called his beloved niece.

Her beautiful voice sung through the hallway just a few moments later. Azrielle, the princess mermaid yokai. Azrielle, the woman that haunted my dreams and kept me up at night. Azrielle....the reason I still had hope. Izael, you clever fuck. Silver Wing’s words rung true...

In this place, I really wasn’t the only monster.

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

@the-cauldron-witch @ninnosaurus @iridescentflamingo @ferox-imagines @sophiacloud28 @milykins @adebauchedsloth @justalotoffanfiction @thepinkpanther83 @inspiredwriter @replicasey @akari180 @iheartchv @leosgirl82 @moonlightflower21 @imthegreenfairy86 @happymoonangel @thelaundrybitch @misty-angerose

• 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭/𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓶𝓴! •

𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂! 𝓣𝓱𝓷𝔁𝔁 🫶🏼

[wandafiction]

You Don't Get It - Just Us Chapter 66

Warnings: Angst, Hurt

Word Count: 2958

Series List | Chapter 65 | Chapter 67

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"Are we nearly there yet?" I playfully stare at Tommy through the rear view mirror as he asks the question for a thousandth time.

"I would say no, but that would be a lie. We are 5 minutes away, just got to get to the parking lot." Tommy's face lights up with the information and he presses his face against the window, his eyes following the buildings as they pass him by. 

"I think someone is excited." I look over at Wanda in the passenger seat as she watches Tommy's excitement increasing the closer we get.

"I'm really excited we haven't been to the aquarium for like years. I think the last time we went was when you took us for our birthday mom."

"You mean your tenth birthday?" Tommy hums out a yes. "No wonder you're excited. There should be plenty of new exhibits for us to look at, they've added quite a bit in the past 4 years." 

"I have good news." Tommy peels his face off the window to look at me through the mirror, excitement dancing in his eyes. "We are here."

He presses his face against the window again as we drive into the carpark, his eyes lighting up when he sees one of the main buildings. I hear Billy wince in pain slightly when Tommy excitedly hits his leg pointing out of the window, but the pain is soon forgotten when he sees the aquarium ahead. 

It doesn't take long to find a car parking space, so I climb out the car and open the trunk door grabbing out my backpack. As I close the door, Wanda wraps her arm around my waist from behind leaving kisses on my clothed shoulder blade while the boys quite literally jump out the car, buzzing with excitement. 

"Ready to go guys?" I ask as I lock the car and put the keys in my bag, pulling Wanda to my right side holding her hand so my backpack can hang off my left shoulder. 

The boys don't answer but Tommy grabs one of Wanda's hands and Billy grabs one of mine and they start dragging us towards the main entrance. They don't stop dragging us, me and Wanda giggle the whole time, until we get into the queue. Wanda lifts my right arm up, pressing her side against me and drops my arm so it rests lazily on her shoulders. I turn my head to peck her forehead and she rests her head on my side, her right arm moving to hold onto my coat as her other one snakes around the back of my waist. 

I turn to see the boys bouncing on their feet and it makes me smile how excited they actually are, they always seem to surprise me. They may be 14 years old, stereotypically they are grumpy and don't leave the house, but Wanda has done an amazing job and they seem to have so many interests. 

I realise Billy hasn't let go of my hand when he pulls on it when he moves forward with the queue, and it makes me smile happily deciding not to question his decision. Maybe he doesn't realise he is still holding my hand. I feel Wanda squeeze my side, I peak down at her seeing her eyes dart between me and Billy. Giving a small shrug Wanda's face paints a picture of pure happiness at the sight as she tends on her tiptoes to kiss the underside of my jaw. 

The queue moves again and the lady at the desk gives us a toothy smile as she looks between the four of us. 

"Hi, can I see your tickets please?" I have to let go of Billy's hand, unfortunately, so I can slide my backpack off my shoulder to grab the printed tickets out. 

The lady types some things into her computer, I catch her eyes darting between all of us every now and again a small smile remains on her face. I settle my backpack back on my shoulder as she confirms everything looks good and Billy's hand instantly grabs back onto mine.

"Would you guys like a guide book? It comes with a map and other information and the times for the shows and feeding." 

"Yes please, can we have two?" Wanda asks as she moves behind me to grab her purse out of my bag. 

"Of course." The lady grabs two off the desk scanning them into the till. "Those come to $10 please."

Wanda hands her a $10 bill, as the lady hands the twins the guides as she smiles at them. Both of them give a polite thank you as they open up the guides looking at everything that we can do throughout the day, both getting excited about the shark tank. Apparently sharks are one of their favourite animals. 

"You have a lovely family. You boys are lucky to have two loving mom's." 

"Thank you!" Both the boys reply before me and Wanda can correct her, and they once again drag us to where they want to go. Wanda looks up at me with all the love in the world, obviously trying to hide her excitement over the boy's moment and I shrug like it's no big deal.

But on the inside. 

AHHHHH.

They didn't technically say it, but they also didn't correct the lady. They just accepted the fact she thought we were both their mom's and moved on like it was nothing. But it's not nothing, not to me and by the look on Wanda's face not for her either. I'm not going to question it though, just in case they didn't actually realise what they did and it was just a mere accident.

"Woah." Tommy's eyes bulge when he sees the first attraction of the day which is the reef fish. 

He let's go of Wanda's hand and makes his way to the tank. Billy looks down at our still connected hands then up at me before deciding he is going to join his brother leaving me and Wanda to ourselves. I pull my arm that's over Wanda's shoulders to pull her closer against me, her head nuzzles into the side of my chest and her arms wrap back around my waist. I give her body a small squeeze as we watch from a small distance.

"Do you want to go see the fish or are you happy just watching the boys enjoy their time." I look down at Wanda as she continues to watch the twins as their eyes dart around the tank and the information boards pointing out each fish as they find it.

"I'm happy just watching the boys. The sharks are my favourite."

"God the boys do take after you." I laugh out when she bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"You think so?" Wanda tilts her head to look up at me, a toothy grin on her face.

"I know so."

I hum in thought trying to think of some examples as we watch the boys to the next tank and slowly follow behind them in our own world. I can feel Wanda watching me as I think back to all the times I've spent with the boys and how they always do little things to remind me of Wanda.

"Well they both do that killer nose scrunch of yours, I mean I can't say no to you when you do it. I think the boys will use it against me honestly when they find out it's my weakness. Or the way they tilt their head, just like you do. Sometimes it's scary when you do it, I mean I watched you do it to Vision and Steph and I just thank whatever God is out there I haven't been on the receiving end. But it's also cute because a lot of the time you do it at the same time as scrunching your nose. Finally, you are all really snuggly. Billy took time warming up to me, but after he hugged me once he didn't stop. None of you did."

"Really. You think they are like me?" I hum in agreement noticing how Wanda's voice seems to be filled with...hope?

"They Wanda." I point to the twins." Are more like you then you sometimes are. You were the one who raised them so it really doesn't surprise me." 

Wanda gives me a small nod before checking to see where the boys are, and seeing them waving us over to the exit of the first building. We follow them silently as the dart between people and other children, with one destination in mind. The sharks. They don't even bother looking at anything else, something about the feeding starting soon so they were on a mission to get from row seats. 

I use my height to my advantage when the boys squeeze through a crowd of other teenagers, making sure I see them entering the building. Wanda has been rather quiet this whole walk, I'm not sure if there is something wrong  or if she is enjoying the moment. I do notice her standing up on her toes every now and again, thinking nothing of it. I continue to walk us in the direction I saw the boys go. All of a sudden her body turns in a small circle as her eyes scan the surrounding area. 

She stands on her tiptoes trying to see over and around the crowd of noisy teenagers, biting her lip nervously. Her eyes dart from left to right as her head turns on a swivel to try and catch a glimpse of them. When she doesn't find what she is looking for her hands move and rake through her hair, twisting once more on her heels. It's only after she calls out the twins' names do I realise what's happening.

"They're fine Wanda, I saw them enter the building. Let's get ourselves inside and find them, yeah?"

"What?" She turns to look at me like I've offended her in the worst way possible. She unwraps my arm from her shoulders and walks ahead of me, leaving me standing there wondering what the hell just happened. "See you in there."

I shake my head blinking a couple of times before walking after her, not bothering to avoid the crowd I start to push my way through. Not that it takes much effort. When scrawny teenagers see a 6ft 5 stranger trying to get through, they normally move out the way. Especially when they are wearing the scowl that I am. 

We were having a good time, the day has only just started and somehow I have managed to piss her off. I can't blame her period because she finished a few days ago, maybe her hormones are still all over the place. Or maybe I did something? Did I do something? 

I manage to get through the crowd of people and spot Wanda walking towards the entrance of the shark tanks, I pick up my pace to catch up with her. I call her name but either she doesn't hear me or she is ignoring me. Thanks to my long stride I manage to catch her up in the entrance and move to stand in front of her, choosing not to grab her wrist and spin her around.

"Wanda we the fuck was that?" I whisper, shout, trying to avoid gaining unwanted attention from everyone walking past.

"What was that? What do you mean what was that? I should be asking you that." She huffs out as her eyes scan the people walking past making sure they don't stop to listen.

"What did I do to warrant that reaction Wanda?" 

"Like you don't know."

"No I don't, so I'd rather you tell me so I can apologise properly." All she does is huff and roll her eyes. "Wanda I'm not going to apologise for something if I do not know what I've done."

"You actively saw me looking for the boys, worried sick because I couldn't see them and you just stood there knowing the whole time that they were fine."

She goes to side step me, but I'm quicker and block her path and she huffs out an angry breath avoiding all eye contact with me. Her eyes now look at everything around me, but not at me. 

"Wanda. I didn't realise you were looking for them until you called their names. If you had just asked me if I had seen them instead of blindly panicking I would have told you where they went." 

She waves her hands about in front of my face, I try my best not to flinch and I must have done a good job because Wanda's angry demeanour doesn't falter one bit.

"It's a mother's job to look after her children and I can't even keep an eye on them at a fucking aquarium." She seethes, I can no longer tell if her anger is directed towards me or if I am just the punching bag. 

I end up clenching my jaw, turning my head to look down at the floor to my left when she practically growls in anger when I don't say anything. I don't know what to say. I don't want to fight. I don't like fighting. Fighting always ends up getting me hurt, Wanda knows that. Why is she so mad at me? I can't ask her directly because it will just make her more mad, and I know people lose control when they're mad. I can't go through that again. So instead I try to get her to see my point of view.

"Wanda, they are teenage boys, they wander off. They have phones to get in contact with us or vice versa."

"You don't get it." Her hands clamp down in her hair, as she yet again let's out an angry breath and I do my best not to shrink at her tone.

"What don't I get?" I manage to ask out trying to get to the bottom of it, without being directly fighting her back. I just want to know.

"What it is like to be a mother, and worry every second of every day about what your boys are going to grow up to be like. You don't understand what it's like to see them go out with their friends and wonder if they are going to make it back I've or not. You don't get it when they phone me and my first thought is 'what's happened?' And you proved that when you just let them run off, not bothering to tell their own mother that you knew where they were. You don't get it Y/n. You don't...."

I take a step back, feeling sick to my stomach as Wanda seems to realise what she said, her face paling as she takes a step forward. I take a step back letting out a small humourless laugh, my hands pulling at my cheeks as I pull them over my face. 

"Wow." A click my lip together, my eyes closing for a second, and when I open them I see Wanda with a look of dismay on her face. "Just...wow."

"Baby." Her voice is a whisper as she takes a quick step forward grabbing both of my forearms but I pull them out of her grasp harshly and side step her. 

"I'll be in the car." I start walking out of the building and hear Wanda call my name but I don't even look back and continue walking forward. I can't do this right now, I don't want to fight her so I will do what I've always done. Run.

I avoid the crowd this time, deciding to take the long route of avoiding them, afraid that in my anger I will end up pushing one of them over. I hear my name being called again and the quick pace of footsteps behind me, I huff out a breath as I come to an abrupt stop as I turn around to face a guilt-ridden Wanda.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I…."

"What is up with you today Wanda. First this morning and now this. Something is going on and you want to talk to me. Yet I seem to be the perfect verbal punching bag. Is it something I did? Is it something I can help you get past? Because this past month and a half have been utter bliss. We haven't argued, not like this, the whole time. We have had our disagreements, and sure I hurt you badly when I didn't tell you I was a widow. But what happened in there was a low blow. Even for you. And today just seems to be an attack Y/n day. So sort it out." I try to keep my voice level, which is pretty scary if you ask me, because again we are in the middle of the New York aquarium and I don't want to make the news.

Two Lesbian Lovers argue in the middle of the aquarium causing many disruptions to the people of new york. One calls the other one out for letting her child die before she can even turn one!

Well that's what my mind tells me would happen.

Wanda takes a step forward, her arms reaching out to try and cup my face, but I shake my head taking a step back and her hands drop to her side. I almost give in and comfort her when I see her bottom lip quiver and her eyes fill with tears. She goes to say something but I beat her to it.

"I will be in the car." 

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[mimisempai]

Let it snow

Summary

Muriel is disappointed. The angel was looking forward to seeing snow for the first time, but unfortunately the weather is not on their side... but miracles do happen, don't they?

Notes

Thank you @armageddidnt for your donation to Alzheimer's Research UK in exchange for this story and also for this amazing prompt, it was such a joy to write 

INEFFABLE ADVENT CALENDER

On Ao3

Rating G -  983 words

The sound of quick, passing footsteps woke Crowley from his nap on the bookshop sofa. 

Then he heard a sigh and finally Muriel's voice murmuring, "Still nothing."

Curious, he opened his eyes to see the same disappointment in the angel's face as in their voice as they made their way back to the bookshelves.

He watched them, trying to understand the reason for their behavior, and after about ten minutes he saw the angel put down the book in their hand, walk to the window beside him, and look out before shaking their head and sighing again.

Then Muriel repeated the same words as before, "Still nothing," and went back to the books. But Crowley, not holding back any longer, sat up on the sofa and grabbed the angel by the arm, asking, "What's got our little bee so weird?"

Muriel shrugged and replied, "It's not snowing."

"What?"

Crowley was not expecting this, and only held back a chuckle because Muriel looked genuinely disappointed.

The angel replied, "I've never seen snow before and I'm really looking forward to it. And today, as I was walking down the street, two old ladies walked in front of me and they looked up at the sky and said it might snow today."

Crowley replied, "These two grannies don't know anything about it. It would have to be a little colder for it to snow. Snow comes from clouds made of tiny droplets of water. When it's cold, these water droplets freeze and form tiny ice crystals. Gradually, these crystals stick together and become heavier and heavier. When the crystals are heavy enough, they fall. But for it to become snow, it has to go through cold enough temperatures. And today the weather is too warm for that. You see, it's nothing special. Besides, it's cold."

The demon rubbed his arms as if he were cold at the thought of talking about snow.

Muriel protested, "But this is extraordinary! I've read that every flake is unique! It's a natural phenomenon, and yet it's almost like magic!"

Oh no! If there was one thing the demon was weak against, it was the enthusiasm and joy of angels when they discovered something new. Aziraphale and now Muriel.

So he didn't try to talk Muriel out of it, and the angel went back to putting the books away, their slumped shoulders betraying their disappointment.

Moments later, the shop door opened and Aziraphale's voice rang out, "Unbelievable! I never thought it would snow today! This is the first time the temperature has dropped so quickly."

Muriel dropped the book they were holding and ran to the window before exclaiming, "It's true, it's snowing!!!" 

Then they turned, hands on hips, and said mockingly to Crowley, "Ha! The old ladies were right!"

Aziraphale, confused, asked for an explanation, and Muriel, under Crowley's amused gaze, told him about the conversation they'd had with Crowley earlier.

"Mr. Grumpy there says there's nothing special about the snow, and then, as if by magic, it starts to snow!"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon and said playfully, "'As if by magic,' hm?"

Muriel had already stopped listening to him and, after grabbing their dufflecoat and putting on their beanie, rushed outside.

Aziraphale slowly walked over to the demon and, sitting down beside him, grabbed his hand and said softly, "How are you going to deny that you're nice this time, dear?"

Crowley tried to free his hand and replied, "I don't know what you mean, Angel."

Aziraphale pointed out the window, and Crowley saw through it, that the snow that had already covered everything in a thin white blanket, and especially Muriel, who had their palms up, no doubt studying the various snowflakes.

Aziraphale didn't let him protest and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek before saying, "They've really got you wrapped around their little finger, haven't they?"

Crowley shrugged before turning to the angel and, leaning toward him, whispered close to his lips, "They're not the only angel in this case." 

Then he pressed his lips to the angel's, who returned the kiss.

Taking advantage of Muriel's absence, they let the kiss linger. 

A little later, while they were snuggled together on the sofa, a knock on the window made them look up and see Muriel, their nose reddened by the cold, beckoning them to come outside.

Aziraphale stood and held out his hand to the demon, "Come on, let's enjoy your little miracle."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the demon replied, getting to his feet.

Aziraphale, who still had the demon's hand in his, pulled him towards him and replied softly, "I do know." 

Then he planted a final kiss on the demon's lips before letting go.

They put on their coats and left the bookshop holding hands.

As soon as they stepped out, Crowley was hit on the chest by a snowball and he looked in the direction of the shot to see a smiling Muriel with another snowball in their hand, ready to throw it.

Crowley exclaimed, "You!"

Muriel cheekily replied, "It's your own fault, Mister  'I can change the weather with a snap of my fingers!'"

Aziraphale smirked and whispered, "Don't resist, my dear, you've been found out. Two angels knowing you work miracles. Because you're nice."

Crowley turned and looked at Aziraphale, "Angel!"

Aziraphale laughed softly, and his laugh turned into a hearty laugh as a snowball hit the demon in the shoulder.

Then he saw Crowley stoop to pick up the snow as he shouted, "You'll know the wrath of a demon, you sneaky little bee!"

Only the laughter of the other angel answered him.

Aziraphale told himself it was a lost cause; whatever the threat, Muriel would never fear Crowley. 

Like Aziraphale, they had seen his kindness.

And once you've seen Crowley's kindness and once you've been the object of it, you never forget it.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[frootloopscos]

3) First Day of School Gone Wrong

 Tag list: @naompspsps @bagofburntcreampuffs @lemon-koii @bluerosegardens @lost-woods-rabbit @friskybee

Want to be added to the tag list?

~~~~~~~

Chapter 3) Why Can't Grim Stay Out of Trouble?

PREVIOUSLY

 

After supper was ate, yuu left to the bedroom they and their Pokemon cleaned up, opening the closet they were greeted by their usual attire they wore while traveling. They smiled taking off the robe they had been wearing and hung it inside before releasing their pokemon once more. "Sorry it's not much guys, but it's what we have for now." They said picking up Grumpy and hugging him close. "Let's get some sleep."

NOW. . .

Yuu groaned as a ghost cackled floating above them. "Hehehe aren't the two of you supposed to be off cleaning the school today?" He asked with a grin making Grim groan. "Mmmm, five more minutes Ma. . ." Yuu sat up rubbing one of their eyes, "mmm, Mimi, Rem. Wake Grim up please." They said getting out of the bed and setting the Mimikyu and Hattrem where they had slept. "Myah?! Yuu why would you have them wake me?!" Grim yelled at the trainer as they went through the closet and getting their travel clothes.

(Basically imagine Bede's outfit but a bit more feminine)

"So I hear you'll be living here from now on?" The ghost asked, "Hope you like pranks as much as we do! Hya ha ha!" It laughed making Yuu roll their eyes. "I'm used to Ghost types pranks." Grim grumbled, "we gotta get rid of those things for good!" He yelled as Crowley walked into the room. Yuu's eyes widen and Agent fired a Snipe Shot at his face. "Ever hear of knocking?! What if I was changing?" They asked with a glare, Crowley ignored them as he spoke. "Good morning, Yuu. Did you sleep well?"

"No! When I sprawled out on the bed, the mattress fell right through the frame! Exactly how old is Ramshackle? And worse yet, I got woken up by Yuu's pokemon!" Yuu shook their head, "it's better than sleeping on the ground outside. But this place does suck." They said crossing their arms. Crowley put his hands on his hips, "moving on let's discuss your assignment for today. You will be cleaning the area from the front gates to the library. Yuu, I expect you to keep Grim and your creatures" "Pokemon" they corrected. "Ahem, your Pokemon in line, I do not want another incident like yesterday."

You simply nodded, "do not fail me. You may take your lunch in the cafeteria." Crowley said with a smile, "I eagerly await the fruits of your labor." And with that the male left, Grim grumbled crossing his arms "I ain't cleaning anything! I'm here to study magic so I can be blasting off spells left and right!" Yuu shook their head, "I'm going to change, we can study after cleaning." Grim left the room going down to the living room.

After Yuu finished getting ready they met Grim downstairs, “alright, we’re cleaning so Agent and Rem will be coming with. Everyone else return for now, I promise I’ll figure out some way to get you all a nice open space to be in.” They said as they returned the other five Pokemon to their pokeballs. “Right then, Grim lets go.” Grim grumbled still not wanting to clean but followed the trainer regardless. They came to a stopping point when their dirt path turned to stone.

‘Statues,’ Yuu thought looking at the seven statues around them. “Wow, so this is Main Street huh? This is incredible!” Grim said looking all around them with interest shining in his eyes, “I didn’t get to see much of it yesterday. What’s the deal with these seven statues? All their faces look pretty scary.” “They remind me of powerful ancient trainers, they could each have their own signature pokemon as well.” Yuu said as they walked up to the closest statue of a male that looked to have fire for hair. “He could have a shiny Umbreon or a Houndoom.”

Grim went over to one of the two royal looking statues, “what pokemon would this lady here have? She looks like she’s got some reeeal anger management issues.” He said crossing his arms, Yuu looked over but before they could answer a male spoke up as he joined the two of them. “You don’t know the Queen of Hearts?” He asked, “Queen of Hearts? Is she some kinda big deal?” Grim asked, “Hatt.” Rem said as she looked up at the Royal elegant statue across from the one they were currently at.

The boy nodded to grim, “she was a queen who lived in a maze-like garden of roses long, long ago. “She was a strict woman who prized order above all. She wouldn’t tolerate a rose being off-color, or her playing-card soldiers being out of step. She basically ruled o we a kingdom of madness, but not one of her subjects dared to defy her. You wanna know why? Because the punishment for breaking a rule was off with your head! Immediate decapitation!” He said with a grin making Grim hide behind Yuu, “s-scary!”

“It’s pretty cool, right? I’m a big fan. I mean, who would bother to obey a queen who was kind all the time? I certainly wouldn’t.” Yuu crossed her arms and glanced over to Agent who stood next to her, “just who are you?” They asked, the boy smiles, “oh my bad. Name’s Ace. I’m a first year student here as of today! Pleased to meetcha!” He said extending a hand, Yuu shook it as Grim spoke. “I’m Grim! I’m a prodigy who’s planning to be the greatest mage who ever lived. This is my far lest interesting henchman Yuu and their henchmen Agent and Rem.”

“Not my henchmen,” they corrected before Ace crossed his arms after letting go of their hand. “Yuu? Odd name, got a weird ring to it.” He said, “well, I’m not from this world. Regardless, it’s nice to meet you, Ace.” They said picking Rem up off the the statue labeled as ‘The Beautiful Queen’, Ace continued to explain each statue to Grim as Yuu listened with suspicion noticing his tone change slightly after explaining the last statue. “Pretty cool, huh? Not like some piddling weasel.”

“Knew it,” Yuu mumbled turning back to Ace with a glare. “Myah?!” Grim asked before Ace burst out laughing, “pffft. . . Ha ha ha! I can’t hold it back anymore! Come on, you’re the ones who turned orientation into such a fiasco, right? The one summoned by the Dark Mirror, who can’t even use magic. And the monster that no one summoned at all. It took everything I had not to burst into laughter right in the middle of the ceremony!” He said with a smug grin on his face.

Grim growled, “h-hey! You don’t gotta be a jerk about it!” “So in the end, neither of you got admitted, and now you’re janitors? Ha ha ha that’s so lame!” Ace kept going, making not only Grim, but Rem and Agent angry too. “What did you just call me?!” Grim yelled, “and you’re both so clueless you don’t even know who the Great Seven are. Not a one of them! Maybe before you try getting into the academy again you ought to take a second crack at kindergarten?”

“Ace, I suggest you stop,” Yuu warned, yet Ace ignored them. “Anyway, just thought I’d tease you a bit. And man am I glad I did. It’s been a blast!unlike you, I actually have classes to get to, so I’ll let you get back to picking up trash. Bye!” And to add more insult to injury he dropped a plastic bottle cap on the ground before attempting to leave. Only for Grim to shoot his fire magic at the ginger. “Woah! Watch where you’re aiming! You wanna throw down with me shorty? You’ve got some guts. I’ll shave you like a toy poodle!”

As the two continued to throw insults at eachother they added spells along with them causing students around to notice the fight picking up. “Grim, Ace, that’s enough.” Yuu tried to intervene getting fed up with being ignored. Grim shot his fire at Ace once more only for the boy to deflect it with his wind. Seeing where the flames were now directed to Yuu’s eyes widened, “Agen use Snipe Shot quick!” They yelled pointing at the fire, only for them to be a few seconds too late.

“Shit! Now the Queen of Heart’s statue has been charred!” Ace yelled, “that’s your fault for trying to divert it! You shoulda just let it burn you to a crisp!” “Who in their right mind would ever do that?!” And that’s when the shit hit the fan, Crowley was here. “What is going on here? Cease this at once!” He demanded making the males flinch. “Headmage. . .” Grim quickly tried to run away, “no more lashings! We gotta get outta here!”

It was no use, the boys cried out in pain as they both got tied up in Crowley’s whip. “As if the likes of you could even flee from me! Haaah. . . Did I not just warn you Yuu, “no more incidents”? And now you’ve charred one of my statues?! It’s almost as though you want to be expelled!” He yelled at the boys and Yuu, they put their hands up in fake surrender. “I didn’t think that there would be a Mudbray that would get Grim into a fight.”

“As punishment for today’s infractions, Yuu, Ace, and Grim are all hereby ordered to wash a hundred windows!” Crowley declared with a glare, “you will all meet in the cafeteria after your classes. Are we clear?” “Yes sir.”

——————

Dang, that actually was really easy to write! I’m gonna try and get my two Pokemon crossover fics (this one and my new one) caught up to my demon slayer one.

Word count: 1612

Published: April 28th, 2024

Edited: n/a

[k4tie75]

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A/n hiii I’m a hopeless romantic it’s obvious at this point the amount I write about weddings 😭😭

This might be really shit idk?

This has been proofread but only by me, at like 3am 😭

Warnings: getting high outside a church, bit cheesy icl but cute?

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iris met Matty 17 years ago, today they're getting married and Iris’s mum retells the story of how the pair met.

"And do you Iris Jane Thomson, take Matthew Timothy Healy to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?" Asks the officiant

"I do." I reply with eyes glossed by tears.

Matty smiles warmly at me.

"And with that i now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride" the officiant says to finish the ceremony.

He doesn't have to ask Matty twice because right after the officiant is finished speaking Matty grabs my waist and catches my lips in a kiss full of all the love and adoration we have for eachother.

A while later after the meal, my tipsy mum makes a toast, she starts retelling the story of how Matty and I met.

"Iris and Matty met at mine and Ted's wedding 17 long years ago" she drunkenly giggles placing her hand on my step dad Ted's shoulder.

17 years earlier (2007)

Todays the day, Mum and Ted are finally getting married.

I'm woken up at half 4 to my very cute 5 year old sister Ella, who very clearly has no sense of time crawling into my bed and asking for her favourite TV show.

I didn't deny her request because who could say no to that face and I needed to be up soon anyways.

I put it on, got up and headed to the bathroom to get freshened up.

When I come back she's fast asleep, snoring quietly so I turn the TV off and tuck her in, because no one wants a grumpy, sleepy toddler moping about on their big day.

I spend the rest of the morning helping mum and eventually getting Ella up and ready.

I then get myself ready, I get into my bridesmaid dress.

It's a simple light blue full length dress that matches the other bridesmaids.

Next i do my hair and makeup and run downstairs to see my mum all dolled up and in her dress talking to the other bridesmaids about table settings or something.

She looks gorgeous and i make sure to tell her right before the fancy car that she hired shows up.

I pick up Ella while the other bridesmaids take mum's train so it won't get dirty and we all get in the car, feeling like royalty.

After the lavish ride we make it to the church and get ready to walk down the Isle to the row at the front but all of a sudden mum in a rush introduces me to the groomsman I'm walking down with.

"Iris this is Matty, Matty this is iris you two are walking down together you might need to help Ella with the flowers, okay love you, go! go! go!"

"Love you too" I reply and then take the hand that Matty, a boy I've never met has extended and walk down the Isle with him.

Ella does her flowergirl duties perfectly and when we reach our seats she sits in between me and Matty.

The ceremony is lovely, I cry a little because of how beautiful it is.

I catch Mattys gaze briefly land on me but quickly move away.

After the ceremony the drinks hour begins, I don't really get the chance to see Mum or Ted because their being kept busy with the other guests.

When Ella spots Gran she's running into her arms, with that big gappy smile everybody loves.

I'm sitting at one of the tables picking at my nail polish while i listening to some older lady that claims she hasn't seen me since I was 3 drunkenly ramble on about how she's had 4 husbands in 50 years, honestly the story's quite interesting at the start but quickly becomes confusing.

So I'm ecstatic when someone says my name in an attempt to get my attention.

"Uhm, hey iris" the unfamiliar male voice says.

I turn around and see Matty standing there looking down smirking.

"Oh! Uh Hey Matty" I reply surprised.

He looks up and nods his head to the door, silently asking if i wanted to go outside with him.

Thankfully someone else sits down at the table and the older lady's attention quickly switches to them.

I take that as my chance to leave the table and go with Matty.

When we get round the back of the church he goes into his suit pocket and pulls out a small plastic container with two joints, he pulls one out, lights it and takes a puff.

After exhaling he asks.

"You smoke?"

"Sometimes" i reply airily.

His lips curl into a small smile as he offers me the joint.

I take it and inhale deeply, his gaze is fixated on my lips as i blow out the smoke slowly.

I pass it back to him.

"Fuckkkk thought wedding's were ment to be fun" I say.

"What so hearing about some old lady drone on about her divorces isn't how you planned to be spending your parents long awaited wedding?" He jokes

I laugh and so does he.

The conversation flows nicely, the joint gets smaller and we get closer untill we're inches apart.

He stubs out the roach on the wall and places a hand on my jaw, making my breath hitch.

My eyes travel down his face until they pause at his lips.

He does the same and leans down to catch my lips in a soft kiss.

Although he quickly pulls away and mutters an apology.

However I pull him back in just as fast and this time it's a much deeper kiss, messy but hungry.

Maybe it's the weed or just Matty in general but this is the best kiss I've ever had.

He tastes of weed and cheap alcohol.

I thread my fingers through his hair and his already strong grip on my waist tightens.

We kiss untill we run out of oxygen and pull away from eachother gasping for air.

"Fuck me, that was hot" I say under my breath.

Unfortunately Matty hears me and half jokingly says.

"Anytime"

I don't get the chance to reply because I hear Ted calling my name from around the front of the church.

"Shit" I whisper and fix my hair so it doesn't look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards.

I look apologetically at Matty giving him a quick peck on the cheek before I run off.

"Hey Ted" I say trying not to sound out of breath and seem sober.

"Oh thank god iris your mother- where on earth have you been, are you high?!" Ted says shocked.

"Uhm i was round the back of the church crying because I'm so happy for you and mum" I say making the crap lie up on the spot.

He sighs, smiles and shakes his head knowing that you're not telling the truth but as long as you're having fun and are safe he's fine with it.

"Okay hun, I know you're high but please atleast act normal because your mums inside waiting for a dance with you"

"Go on" Ted says nodding his head towards the door with a kind smile on his face.

I go inside to dance with my mum, thankfully she's too drunk to realise I'm High.

Infact she's so drunk that when she sees Matty with a sour look on his face sitting next to his mum after hes being caught High she calls him over.

When he notices I'm standing there too his expression changes to a boyish grin and his once slow walking pace quickens.

"Mattyyy" mum says with a dopey smile when he reaches us on the dance floor.

"Hi Mrs Thompson" he replies.

"Ohhh don't be silly call me Janet hun" she correts him.

Before he gets the chance to reply she's speaking again.

"Well the reason I called you over is because I noticed how darling you and iris looked together during the ceremony and I was just thinking how cute it'd be if you two danced together"

Matty doesn't even take time to think it over before he replies.

"Yeah sure, I mean as long as Iris wants to."

I look down and smile.

"Yeah okay"

"I'll leave you two too it!" Mum says excitedly before she runs off abandoning the rushed conversation to talk to Denise.

"Soooo" Matty say as a slow song comes on.

"Soooo" I mimic with a giggle.

He awkwardly places his hands on my waist and I loosely wrap my hands around his neck and we start swaying in time with the music and the awkwardness fades.

After a while of comfortable silence between me and Matty he breaks it and whispers to me.

"You're gorgeous"

I feel my cheeks get hot and I know I'm blushing.

This only makes Matty smile more.

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself" I reply

Out of the blue he kisses me on the cheek.

We grin at each other and continue dancing but then some pop songs start playing so it's a bit more chill and the two of us properly dance together and have a laugh, the weed still effecting both of us but that was kind of the point.

An hour or so later we're both exhausted and go find a table to sit at.

Mattys phone goes off and that must be what inspired him to ask for my number.

I put it in his phone and that's when Denise comes over and tells him they have to go because Louis is just about falling asleep.

As much as Matty tries to convince his mum to leave without him she doesn't budge and soon enough they're saying their goodbyes to everyone.

Just before Matty leaves we make eye contact and he holds his hand to his ear like a phone, mouths call me and winks.

I instantly get butterfly's for like the millionth time today.

I blow him a kiss, which he pretends to catch and put it in his pocket.

I smile at the ground and when I look up he's gone.

My phone buzzes and I know exactly who it is.

"Cya x"

Present day

Both me and Matty are crying happy tears as the story wraps up.

It feels like it was only yesterday we were behind the church sharing a joint and our first kiss.

"Love you" Matty says to me quietly.

"Love you too" I reply before he pulls me into a soft loving kiss.

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Okay that’s all 😭

we don’t talk about how girlies mum knew all of the story (cause she didn’t how could she?)

Hope you liked it idk the next time I’ll write cause my satvb show is next week and idk how I’ll live my life after that so it might be a while.

Love yous xo