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aces-and-angels · 2 years ago

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moments that sent me:

“Whatever you say, love.” Lincoln pressed a kiss to Phoenix’s cheek, and he felt his face flush.

“You can’t just call me love and kiss me anytime I get grumpy and expect that it’ll cheer me up, you know!”

Lincoln rolled his eyes affectionately. “Got it. Love.”

Can they get any cuter? I don’t think so.

2. the gang collectively bullying Feens with that two pound bowling ball 😭😭😭

3. FeenyWeeny

Amalia grabbed Eryn’s hand and planted a kiss to their knuckles. “Good luck, Ery.”

“What? Why are you wishing me luck?”

Amalia’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Because I want this to be a fair game, meaning you’ll need all the help you can get.”

A slow smile spread across Eryn’s face. “You arrogant little—okay, I see how it is. I don’t care how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are. You are going down, Lia.”

5. Lia being the queen at bowling. And that’s on periodt.

6. EGGING- in this economy? lmaooo

7. Linc and Lia ending up with two lovable, chaotic evils

“Lia, you’re the getaway driver, let’s go!” Phoenix yelled from the backseat.

“Phoenix, shut up and let her focus!” Eryn snapped. Then they turned back to Amalia. “You’re doing great, love. Absolutely great.”

“Uhh, this guy is getting closer,” Lincoln said, pointing a thumb at the man who was now sprinting toward them.

Eryn’s face paled. “Okay babe, maybe you can go a little faster actually.”

“Would everyone just shut up!” Amalia exclaimed.

this is the kind of tomfoolery that i’ve been waiting for

overall, such a fun read! lots of humor that had me grinning all the way through- highly recommend to anyone who hasn’t read this yet.

Double Date

Pairings: Amalia x MC and Lincoln x MC Word Count: 3504 Warnings: Language A/N: For ILAW Day 7, the wildcard (@ila-appreciationweek). This fic features @itlivesforever's ILW MC (Eryn Ikari) and @immemorialmarketeer's ILW MC (Phoenix Flannery). In their AU, Eryn and Phoenix are twins and go through the events of ILW together. This fic happens after the ending of It Lives Within, with Eryn and Phoenix both getting the mixed ending and not merging with original Rowan or the power creature. This fic takes place during a time where Phoenix, Eryn, and Amalia all visit Lincoln in Vegas.

For a bowling alley in Las Vegas, this place seemed pretty empty to Phoenix Flannery. He’d always imagined Vegas to be like it was in the movies—filled with drunk people, hookers, nonstop partying, and famous people who were most likely making terrible decisions.

But no, the place Lincoln had chosen for the double date night was pleasant. Aside from a group of elderly couples on the far side, Lincoln, Phoenix, Eryn, and Amalia were the only ones here. And while it did somewhat surprise Phoenix, he also knew that if anyone could find the emptiest, quietest bowling alley in all of Vegas, it would be Lincoln Aquino.

(continued under cut)

“Hey, Phoenix!” Eryn called from where they stood beside a shelf of bowling balls. “I think I found the perfect ball for you.”

“Let me guess, it’s the tiny two pound one for babies.”

Eryn snorted and held out a hand, which indeed was holding a tiny, two-pound, child-sized bowling ball. “I think the fact you guessed right proves my point that it’s the perfect one for you.”

Phoenix pasted a sugary smile onto his face. “I can still throw a child-sized bowling ball at your face, and it’d still hurt like fuck.”

“That’s a good point. Maybe a sixteen pounder is better. It’d be so big for tiny little Feens to hold that you wouldn’t even be able to throw it far enough to reach me.”

Phoenix rolled his eye and flipped Eryn off. “Keep talking shit, Ikari, but I could kick your ass, easy.”

At that moment, Amalia and Lincoln came over with trays of food to enjoy during the game—hotdogs, wings, fries, and beers.

“Let’s get this thing going!” Amalia said with a grin. She grabbed Eryn’s hand and tugged them over to the bowling console to enter everyone’s names.

While they busied themselves with that, Lincoln wandered over to the bowling balls where he started absently picking them up, weighing them in his hands, and setting them back down. Phoenix frowned as he watched. There was something off about Lincoln today, and he’d noticed it from the moment he’d reached his apartment.

Phoenix sidled up beside Lincoln, running a hand over his back in a quiet greeting. “Hey, Linc. What’s up?”

“Mmm, nothing really,” Lincoln said as he held up a giant green ball in his hand. He narrowed his eyes at it before setting it back down.

“You can stop acting like a pro bowler who actually knows what the fuck to look for in a bowling ball. We both know you suck at bowling.”

That made Lincoln laugh, and Phoenix smiled at the sound. “Thank you for the words of encouragement, Ginger. You really are inspiring.”

“I know, I try.”

“Speaking of bowling balls, I found the perfect one for you.” Lincoln picked one up off the shelf, and by God, if it wasn’t the exact same tiny two-pounder Eryn had offered him just minutes ago.

Phoenix looked at Lincoln flatly. “Do you guys not have any more jokes?”

Lincoln’s lips quirked upward. “Eryn showed you the same one, didn’t they.” It wasn’t a question, because he already knew the answer. So Phoenix didn’t bother answering.

Instead, he picked up the heaviest ball from the shelf. “This is the one I’m going to use.”

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to throw out your back.”

“I’m not a grandpa! I’m still 22, I can afford to do stupid things that will destroy my body in years to come but won’t affect me now, and no one can stop me.”

“Whatever you say, love.” Lincoln pressed a kiss to Phoenix’s cheek, and he felt his face flush.

“You can’t just call me love and kiss me anytime I get grumpy and expect that it’ll cheer me up, you know!”

Lincoln rolled his eyes affectionately. “Got it. Love.”

And really, Lincoln knew exactly what he was doing, because the remainder of Phoenix’s irritation dissolved instantly. He looked away bashfully, hugging the ball to his chest as he lugged it over to Amalia and Eryn. He glanced up at the scorecard, where the names read “Ery, Lia, Linc, and FeenyWeeny.”

“FeenyWeeny? Really?” Phoenix said as he sat beside them.

Amalia’s eyes widened the moment she saw the bowling ball in Phoenix’s arms. “Phoenix, what are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself with a ball that huge!”

Lincoln fell into the seat between Eryn and Phoenix, slinging one arm behind Phoenix’s chair. “That’s what I told him.”

“Should’ve gone with the one I suggested,” Eryn said with a shrug.

“I offered him the same one, you know,” Lincoln said.

“The two pounder?”

Lincoln nodded.” “Yup. It really was Phoenix-sized.”

“Hell yeah.” Eryn held up a fist, and Lincoln bumped his knuckles against theirs.

“What is this, Pick On Phoenix Day?” Phoenix demanded.

“Every day can be Pick On Phoenix Day if you’re determined enough,” Eryn said with a cheeky grin.

“I’m being serious, though,” Amalia said. “That bowling ball is too big, Phoenix. You could seriously hurt yourself.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me beat you all with it, anyway!”

“Phoenix—” Amalia started, but he was already walking up to their lane.

“He’ll be fine,” Lincoln said. “Probably.”

Phoenix didn’t think too hard. His judgment of distance was off ever since he’d lost his right eye, so he usually just went off of instinct, and now was no different. He held the ball up, swung back, and then released it onto the track, propelling it forward with the momentum from his movements.

The ball rolled forward, hurtling toward the pins, until—

“Holy shit, Phoenix,” Lincoln said from behind him. “You got a strike!”

“I’ll be honest, I was not expecting that,” Eryn said.

Phoenix let out a triumphant laugh and bounded back to the others. “In your face to everyone who doubted me!”

“Hey, I never said that I doubted you,” Amalia said. “I was just concerned about your health, which I still am, by the way—”

Phoenix cut her off with a hug, and she just laughed and hugged him back. Then he moved onto Eryn, who he flicked in the ear, and then he reached Lincoln, who he gave a wet, messy victor’s kiss.

“Oh, come on, you’re acting like you won the whole game!” Eryn said. “You got one strike.”

“I mean. I’m not complaining,” Lincoln said. “If this is how you celebrate getting strikes then I hope you get a strike every time.”

Phoenix took his seat beside Lincoln once more and nuzzled into his side. “I will win in your name, Lincoln. I promise!”

“Looks like the competition will be tougher than we thought, Lia,” Eryn said as they stood up to take their turn. “I thought it was just going to be you and me fighting for first, but unless this was a fluke—”

“It wasn’t a fluke!” Phoenix interjected.

“—Phoenix might actually stand a chance.”

Amalia grabbed Eryn’s hand and planted a kiss to their knuckles. “Good luck, Ery.”

“What? Why are you wishing me luck?”

Amalia’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Because I want this to be a fair game, meaning you’ll need all the help you can get.”

A slow smile spread across Eryn’s face. “You arrogant little—okay, I see how it is. I don’t care how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are. You are going down, Lia.”

Amalia blew them a kiss. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

The rest of the evening passed quickly, filled with teasing and laughter and surprisingly good bowling from everyone except Lincoln (who kept throwing his ball into the gutters until it became such a problem that Amalia had to ask one of the workers to put up the guardrails). But despite the good mood and lightheartedness, Phoenix knew there was something off about Lincoln. He would laugh and smile, but then the next moment he’d get quiet and withdrawn. He was distracted, out of the moment—there was something on his mind he wasn’t saying.

When Phoenix got up to get another order of wings, Eryn joined him. Once they had their orders, Eryn pulled Phoenix aside.

“There’s something up with Lincoln.”

Phoenix sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying to get him to talk to me, but…”

“I get it. I know how he is.” Eryn cast a furtive glance over their shoulder back at the others. Amalia was standing beside Lincoln in front of the bowling lane, where she was trying to show him the proper way to hold a bowling ball. And there it was again, that distant expression on his face—subtle enough that only people who really knew him would notice.

“Something is really bothering him…” Phoenix said with a frown. “I should talk to him, huh.”

“Yeah. He’s probably not talking about it because he doesn’t want to ruin this weekend for us, but it’s not fair for him to keep everything bottled up, you know?”

Phoenix nodded. “We’ve gotta get it out of him. I’ll take the lead.”

They rejoined the others and set the fresh wings down on their shared table.

“We’ve got more food!” Eryn announced. “Better fill up before the next round if you want to have a chance of winning!”

Amalia laughed as she came over and took her seat beside Eryn. “I’m in first place.”

“And if you want to keep first place, you’d better fill up.”

Amalia made a show of narrowing her eyes at the food. “Hold up. You’re not trying to sabotage me, are you? Poisoning the food to make me get off my game?”

Eryn gasped dramatically. “Me? Sabotage? I would never!”

Undeterred, Lincoln picked up one of the wings and took a bite. “I’m so far behind I don’t really have anything to lose.”

Everyone laughed at that, and all began to dig into the food. It wasn’t long until Phoenix found his opening.

“So Lincoln,” he started. “How are things?”

Lincoln shrugged casually, but Phoenix noticed the way his smile faltered ever so slightly. “It’s fine.”

Phoenix reached down and took Lincoln’s free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you well enough by now to know when that’s not true.”

Lincoln’s eyebrows lifted. “What do you mean? Everything is fine—”

“It’s not, though, and it’s not fair to you to try to handle everything yourself. We can help.”

Lincoln sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t want to go into it, because it’s so stupid and I didn’t want to ruin the weekend for you guys.”

Eryn threw Phoenix a look that said I knew it.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Lincoln,” Phoenix assured.

“Fine.” Lincoln nodded, took a deep breath, and then started talking. “I was working late the other day and did a walk-in for this guy because I didn’t have any appointments and he wanted a tattoo. He seemed cool, and the tattoo turned out really well. Anyway, the guy showed up again this morning but this time, he was with his girlfriend. Turned out she hated his tattoo, and instead of being an adult about it and telling her it’s his body and he can get a fucking tattoo if he wants, this asshole decided it would be better to claim he was ‘drunk’ and that I never should’ve tattooed him in the first place.”

Anger flared up inside Phoenix and his hands clenched into fists. “Are you serious?”

“Wish I could say I wasn’t. So after yelling at me for five minutes, they hit me with the claim that I broke the law by knowingly allowing a drunk person to sign release forms, which you legally can’t sign if you’re drunk. The worst part is, even though it’s all bullshit, claims like this could ruin the shop’s reputation. I would never knowingly tattoo a drunk person, but now that they’re making these claims and leaving these reviews on every site we have… god, it’s just a mess.”

Amalia shook her head, a glare on her face. “I can’t stand people like that. Instead of dealing with their own problems, they’ll throw anyone they can under the bus to save their own skin. If it makes you feel any better, it doesn’t sound like they actually have a legal case.”

“You’re not in trouble though, are you?” Eryn asked.

“The owner knows I didn’t do anything wrong, but he’s having me take a few days off to let things cool down while he handles the situation. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but I can’t help but worry and overthink every possible way things could turn out wrong. I would hate to lose this job.” Lincoln ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh.

Eryn and Phoenix exchanged looks, and neither had to say anything to know what the other was thinking.

“What information do you have on this guy?” Phoenix asked.

Lincoln gave him a flat look. “Phoenix. I know what you’re thinking, and no. We’re not going to do anything to this guy.”

“I never said I was going to do something to him.”

“You thought it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re Phoenix Flannery. Of course you did.”

Phoenix shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“Well I think this asshole needs to learn a lesson,” Eryn said.

“And I think we shouldn’t let this asshole ruin the rest of this date,” Amalia said. “Who’s up for the next round?”

Eryn immediately shot to their feet. “Oh, I am. Let’s do this.”

“Maybe if you imagine this guy’s head as the bowling pins, you’ll actually get some points, Lincoln,” Phoenix teased. Lincoln just rolled his eyes.

Soon enough, the game was over (and Amalia won, to no one’s surprise). But as they headed out to the car, Eryn pulled Phoenix aside.

“Hey,” they said, voice low. “I found the guy who did this to Lincoln.”

Phoenix’s eyes widened. “What? Who is it? How?”

“Lincoln said this guy was leaving reviews on every review site he could get his hands on. Wasn’t hard to find out who he was, and once I had that, you can find anything.”

A smirk stretched across Phoenix’s face. “You already got his address, didn’t you.”

Eryn’s own smirk mirrored Phoenix’s. “Yep. All we need now is some eggs.”

***

Amalia and Lincoln didn’t think much of it when Phoenix and Eryn claimed they wanted some eggs so they could make breakfast for everyone the following morning. Lincoln did think it was a little strange when Eryn said there was supposedly a pop-up art show they were interested in visiting, especially since he had never heard of it, but he didn’t protest when Eryn typed the address into their phone and held it up for Amalia to follow. A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of a modest home with brown bricks and a two-car garage.

“What the… there’s no pop-up art show,” Amalia said, narrowing her eyes at the house as if the art show might appear out of thin air if she looked hard enough.

“Oh really?” Eryn said with a mischievous grin. “How odd. This is the place, according to the address I had.”

Lincoln looked over at Phoenix, eyes falling from the unfamiliar home to the carton of eggs in his hands. Understanding dawned on his face and his mouth fell open. “Amalia, this isn’t—”

“TIME FOR THIS FUCKER TO PAY!” Phoenix yelled, and before anyone could say anything, he and Eryn threw open their car doors and ran toward the house, cackling all the while.

“Egg me up!” Eryn half-whispered, half-yelled. Phoenix threw open the carton and Eryn scooped up a handful of eggs.

Behind them, Phoenix heard car doors open and slam shut followed by two pairs of approaching footsteps, but he ignored them.

“Phoenix, Eryn, no—!” Amalia started, but Phoenix was already slinging his arm back. He released the egg into the air and everyone stared as it flew forward, quietly, silently, until it slammed into the house with a splat! It cracked open immediately, drizzling its gooey, yellow yolk along the house’s brick walls.

“Oh my god,” Lincoln said. “You found my client’s house?”

“I did,” Eryn said casually. “I think this is what he deserves, don't you?”

Without waiting for a response, Eryn hurled one of their eggs straight at the garage door. Phoenix howled with laughter and threw another one, and another one, while Lincoln and Amalia watched on in horror.

“You guys, this is not a good way to deal with problems!” Amalia said.

“I don’t think—” Lincoln started, but Phoenix grabbed his hand and placed an egg into his palm.

“I bet it’ll help you feel better,” Phoenix said. “And if it doesn’t… well, I’ll find a way to make it up to you tonight.”

Lincoln looked down at the egg in consideration. “That guy was a real dick.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Amalia said.

Lincoln glanced back at her. “Sorry, but this guy really pissed me off.” Then he threw the egg, landing it directly on the front door.

“HELL yeah!” Eryn and Phoenix whooped in unison. And for the first time that night, Lincoln’s laugh seemed truly free.

Between the three of them, they quickly emptied their first carton and were just getting to the second when the outdoor lights turned on and the front door opened.

Phoenix glanced down at the incriminating egg in his hand. “Oh shit.”

A middle aged man with a freshly wrapped tattoo on his arm stepped out onto the porch. His face contorted with anger as his eyes fell upon the people standing in his yard with cartons of eggs. “What the hell are you doing here? I’ll—I’ll call the police!”

“Time to go!” Eryn yelled, abandoning their empty carton and sprinting back to the car. Phoenix grabbed Lincoln’s hand and dragged him after them.

“We’re sorry we’re sorry we’re sorry—” Amalia cried as she threw open the driver’s side door and practically dove into the car. As she struggled with shaking hands to start the ignition, the man started down the steps, yelling and cursing as he walked toward them.

“Lia, you’re the getaway driver, let’s go!” Phoenix yelled from the backseat.

“Phoenix, shut up and let her focus!” Eryn snapped. Then they turned back to Amalia. “You’re doing great, love. Absolutely great.”

“Uhh, this guy is getting closer,” Lincoln said, pointing a thumb at the man who was now sprinting toward them.

Eryn’s face paled. “Okay babe, maybe you can go a little faster actually.”

“Would everyone just shut up!” Amalia exclaimed. The car fell silent, and not a second later, the car sputtered to life. “That’s more like it!” Amalia slammed her foot down on the pedal and the car screeched as it lurched forward just as the man reached the curb. Amalia rolled down her window and swung the car around in a U-turn.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Eryn asked. “I thought we were trying to get away.”

“I just have something I want to say to this guy.” Amalia slowed down slightly as she passed the man, who was standing fuming on the curb. Then she stuck her arm out the window and flipped him off. “This is what you get for being an asshole, asshole!” And without another moment’s hesitation, she shot down the quiet neighborhood street, leaving the man and his egged house behind them.

The moment they were out of view, the tension snapped and everyone burst out into roaring laughter.

“Amalia that was SO HOT!” Eryn yelled.

Phoenix laughed. “Yeah, seriously badass! Oh my god did you guys see the look on his face?”

“Maybe next time he’ll think twice before throwing a stranger under the bus to save his shit relationship,” Lincoln said between laughs.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Amalia said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Eryn leaned back in their seat, a look of pure contentment on their face. “That was awesome. We should do stuff like this more often.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Amalia said.

“Why? You had fun!”

“Because I hate getting in trouble!”

As Eryn and Amalia fell into their familiar, affectionate bickering, Phoenix hooked arms with Lincoln and rested his head on his shoulder.

“You feel better now, don’t you, Linc?”

Lincoln chuckled. “Unfortunately, yes. That was strangely therapeutic. But I don’t want you thinking you can solve every problem in life by throwing eggs at someone’s house.”

“The hell are you talking about? Egging always works. I learned this when I was in middle school.”

Lincoln smiled and rested his head against Phoenix’s. “Thanks.”

“For what? For almost getting you arrested?”

“For getting me out of my own head. You were right. I’ve gotten better about it, but I still sometimes feel like I have to handle things alone instead of letting others in. So thanks for making sure I don’t do that.”

Phoenix smiled up at Lincoln and reached up to give him a quick kiss. “I love you, Linc.”

“I love you, too.”

#ilaw #it lives within #ilw fanfic #ilw fic #playchoices #choices #ilw #lincoln aquino #lincoln mcquoid #lincoln x mc #amalia de león #amalia x mc #feens and eryn- the chaos demons the world needs #i loved this so much #the dynamic between each couple and them all together #chef's kiss #💐💐💐#👑#for queen mother linky

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ineffableigh · 5 months ago

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JAYSUS IT'S DONE!

Started this one a couple days before the picnic chapter came out and couldn't finish it before release lol, but that's just as well because it gave me a chance to try my hand at painting a lagoon?! Lovely imagery to work with in @phoen1xr0se's Good Omens fic, "There is a Light and it Never Goes Out"!

This was a fun challenge piece as since I wanted to get a very painterly background, I had to force myself to be painterly on the lads as well so this was excellent shading/lighting practice and all that. Pretty happy with it, especially with their faces and with Crowley's hair. AND THOSE CROISSANTS! :D

Latest chapter HERE: AO3 LINKY

#good omens #good omens fanart #good omens fanfiction #There is a Light and it Never Goes Out #phoen1xr0se13 #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital painting #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #IneffabLeigh's Art Tag

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imtherain · 27 days ago

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UPDATED: HEY WANNA HELP ME WITH SOMETHING???

UPDATED: y'all I got more than 40 responses to this survey *overnight* and I'm happy to say I passed the class! Y'all are amazing and I love you 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

UPDATE NUMBER 2: I was a few days late but the fic is up. I can't link it here for some reason but it's there I promise

So I need at least 10 people to take a survey I made for a Market Research class, the survey is pretty boring (it asks about your streaming services basically) but it's for a grade, so please click the link below for me? It's about 6 sections of questions and shouldn't take more than maybe ten minutes? (I need it done no later than Sunday 10/13/24 please)

SURVEY LINKY LINK

If I do get 10 people to take the quiz, I promise I'll post the sex pollen fic I keep talking about by the end of next week (so by 10/19/24), as part of why that fic has yet to come out is this class has been taking all my time.

So please, take my boring survey for school reasons, and do it for the sex pollen fic too

Here's a picture of Logan being hot so that you know what's on the line

THANKS

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riskybusiness-buddie · 17 days ago

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os out here writing fic. (linky link!)

#teeeheeee this was nice

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mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips · 3 months ago

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New fic!

Decided to scribble a quick something for Summer of Buddie, Week 2 (Rom Coms). Enjoy?

Title: the clarification of equilibrium

Author: Maira

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary:

"He leaned?” “Exactly. You know,” Eddie waves a hand. “Leaning.” Buck blinks. He knows he isn’t that drunk, but it honestly feels like he is. “You keep saying that word. I don’t think it means what-” “Leaning, Buck!” Eddie is clearly frustrated that Buck isn’t getting what he’s trying to say, but for two people who are usually on the same wavelength, who are often (lovingly) mocked for their ability to communicate without saying a word, Buck is hopelessly lost as far as this conversation goes. ... or, the one where Eddie gets jealous about a conversation, and attempts to explain how body positioning works.

Linky link to fic >> the author has absolutely used a Princess Bride quote yet again <<

@summerofbuddie - thanks for running this super fun collection!

Update tag list - @idealuk @marissaleec @vronmitchell

#summerofbuddie #week 2 #rom coms #buddie #911 buddie #911 abc #buck x eddie #buddie fic #writers of ao3 #fic writing #Maira writes things #the clarification of equilibrium

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rosemirmir · 1 month ago

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Seven Sentences Sunday

Thank you to @seaofolives for the tag! :D

I'm using a snippet from a wip I just finished that will go up sometime in late October. Some Pre-Canon & Pre Alchemist Academy Incident Gotchard Geryon/Minato fic:

With a final few strokes, Geryon placed down the chalk. The formula was now being written out in full. The four of them were the only ones left in the classroom as the minutes continued on, and people continued to leave. The chatter of students replaced with the sounds of pencils writing on paper. Geryon looked over at the group of students with a smile. “Well aren’t the three of you studious? I’m pleased to see you took the extra minute to write this down.” Minato looked up from his paper, finally having copied everything down to the littlest of details.

Tagging: @stickers-on-a-laptop @mattdillon @lunar-gl1tch @tellmewhatyouc @belovedstill @ryuuseini @solacium (No pressure!) and whoever sees this who wants to do it!

#linky posts #linky's fics

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years ago

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Hey ❤️ I hope you’re doing ok with your concussion and are getting better! Your post about loving Daddy Whiskey so much made me go “yep me too…EEK!”. He just makes me feel so safe and lovely.

I understand you’ve probably got lots of fics lined up and are really busy/still getting better, but I saw you said yes to DW reqs, and would love to ask for an absolutely sickly sweet fluff fic (with maybe some really loving/romantic SMUT 😏).

DW spoils you rotten: shopping trip for anything you want, being driven from shop to shop in his car by his driver (feel like he’s called Frank? 😂), back to his for take out (from a fancy AF restaurant, I’m thinking steak), movie on the sofa with blankets, pillows, you tucked up into his side, all your favourite snacks. DW is constantly telling you everything you try on in the shop makes you look “pretty as a perfect peach, darlin’”, and that “daddy loves you so so much, angel”, holding your hand, kissing the top of your head and giving you the FULL princess treatment… “Daddy will get you anything you want sweet pea, just say the word. You never need to want for anything with me, daddy’ll keep you safe.”

I need full on DW tooth rotting adorable, caring, daddying content 😂

Ok I’ve talked this up so much…imma head out

thank you ❤️

I'm L O V I N G this. I know you didn't mention reader being pregnant in your ask but with the recent Daddycember announcement I figured I'd squeeze it in.

Little Pea

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Pregnant reader, discussions of pregnancy, discussions of loss, established relationship, dirty talk, size kink, daddy kink, praise kink, spit kink, unprotected vaginal sex

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A/N: I love this so much. And I love my daddy

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Agent Daddy Whiskey Taglist

Join My Taglist!

◆

“Are you sure we need all of this?”

Glancing down at the cart, you wince just thinking about how much everything will be. But that doesn’t stop your husband from adding more items to the pile.

Looking back at you with an expression of annoyed disbelief, Jack huffs. “‘Course I’m sure!” Tossing his hands up, he continues on, reaching for something new on the shelf. “We’re gonna give this baby everything they need!”

You’d like to say it warms your heart, seeing him like this, but that’d be an understatement. There are ten pairs of newborn-sized onesies in the cart, along with fifteen different outfits. And he’s still grabbing more. He can’t help himself, he’s never been this excited about anything.

Suddenly, he’s snapping his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Where’s the beauty care aisle?” He mutters to himself, searching quietly.

“What do we need from there?”

“I gotta make sure you have everything you need, too.” Is his simple explanation. “Oh!” And then he’s tugging the cart away from you and scurrying across the store.

With an amused huff, you follow behind him. Jack doesn’t let you do anything, not even push the cart. You’re only about six weeks along, but no matter how much you insist, Jack tells you that you’re more fragile than ever before.

“Here we go.” His voice allows you to find him easily, turning the corner to find him picking out a foot bath. When he puts it in the cart, he places it beside the heating pads and fuzzy robe he got for you, too.

“What’s that for?”

“Honey, everything in that cart is either for you,” He looks up, then down at your tummy. “Or them.”

You’re truly in awe of him, the man you married, the person that chose you. By far, it’s the luckiest you’ve ever gotten in life. To be with a partner so caring and so genuinely loving, is more than a blessing. There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by in your relationship that Jack hasn’t made you feel provided for, protected, and so completely adored.

Dreamily, your husband sighs, shaking his head. Taking a step forward, he moves beside the cart before his arms find your hips. Gently, he pulls you in, resting his forehead on yours.

“You’re amazing, baby.”

“I mean,” You chuckle, linking your fingers behind his neck. “All I did was have sex with you.”

Your words make him laugh, that handsome smile blooming proudly. “Give yourself some credit. You’ve put up with me for a while, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.” With a kind smile, you lean up, connecting your lips. But he ends it all too quick.

“Let’s get you some new clothes, babycakes.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Eyes dipping down, you then frown. “I didn’t think I was even showing yet.”

“No,” Jack laughs, “Not maternity clothes, just some new ones. Anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I saw some dresses a few aisle back.” One big hand smoothes its way over your hip, fingers brushing over the curve of your backside. “I know you’d look gorgeous in ‘em.”

Just like that, your feet are pattering along after him once again, watching him lay one, two, three dresses over his forearm before grabbing even more. They’re each a different shade and style, and he doesn’t even have to ask you which size. He already knows.

“I’ll sit right here, honey.” Jack tells you, placing himself on the stool outside of the fitting room you chose. “You let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Baby, I won’t need help just yet. I can still dress myself.”

Jack only grins. “Okay, honey.”

Albeit slightly difficult, Jack does his best to be understanding. He knows he can be a bit much, especially when it comes to your pregnancy. But he expected this, and so did you. In all honesty, he’s never fully healed from the trauma of losing his late wife and unborn son. He tried therapy, he really did, but nothing could fill the tremendous hole they left. Not even you. But what made you so amazing in his eyes, is you didn’t try to fill that hole, you didn’t try to become what Anna was to him, or try to replace her. You were you, you made his life special in your own way. You didn’t fill the hole Anna and Rhett left, you just made sure he never felt broken again.

“How’s this one look?” The first one you walk out in is a linen- blend midi dress, colored in a light blush.

Grabbing the edges, you grin, swinging your hips a little bit. And Jack’s warm eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Babycakes,” He’s still sitting, staring up at you in awe. “That color looks so good on you. How does it feel?”

Smiling, your eyes dip down, admiring him more than yourself in the mirror directly across from you. “I like it.”

The next dress isn’t colored to your liking, a yellow shade resembling that of a deep mustard. The third is a light purple, almost lilac, and you would have bought it if the bustline wasn’t too small.

“You like this one, babe?” Turning, you eye yourself in the mirror, considering the fourth one. The backless cami dress is a deep forest green, something you’d definitely wear this coming spring.

“You look stunning, sweet pea.” Releasing an airy sigh, Jack fiddles gently with the ring on his finger. Inside, his heart is swelling with joy. He’s no longer looking at just you (although that sight will sweep him off his feet for the rest of his life). He’s looking at his baby, too. “That’d be perfect for the spring.”

Grinning widely, you look over your shoulder at him. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Spring. By next time this spring, we’ll be holding our baby.

The last dress takes your breath away. Standing in the stall, you grin, thinking about the reaction Jack will give you. It’s a mocha colored knit dress, with long sleeves and a square neckline. It compliments your waist perfectly, the sleeves comfortable and the neckline just low enough for you to be comfortable. It reaches your mid-thigh, and although it’s knit, it isn’t too heavy on you.

“What about this?”

“Oh, sugar.” Looking up from his phone, Jack’s lips part in awe. It makes you grin, a small giggle slipping from your lips. This time, he actually stands, holding out both hands. Running them along your sides, he glances down, speaking softly to you. “This is definitely the one babycakes. You look so stunning, pretty as a perfect peach.”

Pouting playfully, you ask in the sweetest voice you can muster, “Just one?”

“Babycakes, you know I’ll get you anything you want. Just say the word.” Quickly leaning down, he presses a firm kiss to your cheek. Now, you laugh fully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Daddy loves you so much, angel.” He’s muttering, his lips trailing over your soft skin. “You know that? You know that, don’t you, honey?”

Lifting your head, you meet his eyes, smiling. One of your hands shifts, moving to cup his cheek. Stroking his plump bottom lip, you nod. “I know, daddy.”

Jack’s hand is on yours whenever he’s not pushing the cart, even making room to do so when he’s carrying the bags. Once you’re done in the store, you meet Jack’s driver out in the lot. With your current state, Jack wanted to be by your side constantly, and that meant him driving as little as possible, and you not driving at all.

“Go on in, sugar.” Kissing the top of your hand, he nods. “I’ll just put these away.”

Even though the driver is more than capable of helping, Jack does it himself. He’s not helpless, after all.

“Hey Frank,” Sliding in, you smile, greeting the man you’ve now known for years.

“Hey there,” Turning, he returns your kind expression. “How’d the shopping go?”

“Really good. Jack’s putting away the bags now.” And then you giggle, glancing down at your ring. “He can’t help himself.”

“Yeah,” Nodding, Frank shares a familiar look, one of genuine joy. “You know, I don’t think I ever saw him this happy before you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You return with a bashful grin and a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, c’mon. You already know it’s true.”

It’s only a short drive back to your home, and an even shorter ride on the elevator up. Jack carries every bag, the biggest smile making itself comfortable on those beautiful lips. It makes you grin, seeing him like this. Linking your arm around his bicep, you let your head fall to his shoulder, sighing. He’s going to be the best dad.

After finding out about your pregnancy, you and Jack talked about, well… everything. One of the main topics being the baby’s room. For a moment, you considered moving, but were quick to find it unnecessary. The penthouse was big enough to house a master bedroom, two spares, and an office. So, the baby will just take one of the spares.

“I can’t help with anything?”

Currently, Jack is putting away all the baby clothes the two of you bought today. You had a say in almost every piece, of course, but some were entirely Jack’s idea. One being a little outfit of Woody from Toy Story.

“Sure you can, sweetheart.” He just wants you to rest, but finally, he gives in. “Can you take these tags off for me?”

And so, you create a system of you untagging the clothes, and Jack folding them. You haven’t put the nursery together yet. Hell, you haven’t even hit the two month mark yet! But Jack wanted to go shopping, nonetheless, having ordered a couple cabinets to put the clothes and toys in for the time being.

“What?” When you look up, he’s staring at you.

“How about some dinner?”

“From where?”

“That one hibachi restaurant? You said you liked it, right?” He’s already pulling out his phone and dialing the number.

“Yeah! It’s my new favorite since the old one closed down!” A bright smile colors your face, immediately perking up at the mention of it. “It’s kind of expensive though, isn’t it?”

Jack looks up from his phone, giving you an unamused face. “Do you actually think I give a shit about that right now?” And he’s right, you don’t even know why you asked. When Jack has his mind set on spoiling you, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Why don’t you go get some blankets, babycakes?” Jack suggests, the phone now on his ear. “We can make it a cozy date night.”

While your husband arranges for the food to be delivered, you gather the coziest pillows and blankets you have. Laying the biggest blanket on the floor before the living room couch, you stack a few pillows against the large piece of furniture, allowing you to lean back against it. The rest of your fluffy items are them piled on top of the main blanket, some lining the perimeter too. All in all, you’ve created quite the cozy little nest.

“Ready to eat, babycakes?”

“Yes, please.” You’re already sitting, your back against the pillows as you reach up eagerly toward your plate of food.

Jack chuckles at your impatience, bringing himself down to your level so he can sit beside you. You’re already stuffing yourself with your favorite food before he can even ask what movie you want to choose.

“Jurassic Park?” He asks, one eyebrow raised in amusement. With your mouth still full, you offer a close-lipped smile and a happy nod. And after switching the screen to one of your favorite movies, he grins, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.

“C’mere,” Jack scooches a little closer, too, lifting his arm to your shoulders when you finally nuzzle into his side. “You hungry little hippo.”

“Hey!”

“Not because you look like a hippo.” Jack immediately defends, reading your thoughts while rolling his eyes. And then he turns his head, eyeing you with a grin. Reaching over, he gives your nose a little pinch. “C’mon now, just enjoy yourself.”

You almost hate to say it, but when Jack acted like this… it really made you melt for him. It’s like he can corral you in without even having to lift a finger. Like he knows how to calm you down just as quickly as it is easy. Some might find it patronizing, but you know he doesn’t mean it that way. Personally, you find it endearing.

It’s only when you catch him staring at your stomach that you huff out in annoyance. “What?!”

Easily, he dismisses your sassy tone. “How big you reckon they are?”

“Huh?”

“The baby,” He nods, still staring. “What, maybe a peach?” Gently, Jack’s free hand slides down, that warm and broad palm settling over your lower belly. And then he grins. “Lil’ peach.”

“Baby,” Glancing up at him, you giggle quietly. “There’s no way they’re that big.”

“Huh?” Furrowing his eyebrows, Jack cocks his head curiously. “Really?”

“Yeah, let me see.” Pulling out your phone, you type in a quick Google search. “At six weeks, they’re about the size of a pea.”

“A pea?!” Your husband asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Laughing, you nod. Now, you’re looking down, too. “Tiny lil’ thing.”

“Little pea.” Jack says affectionately, fingers rubbing your covered belly. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

Tilting his head upwards and to the side, he shifts his gaze to you. “Yeah…” He responds quietly, leaning in to give your cheek a tender kiss. “I got my sweet pea,” And then, he’s moving, bending over your lap to give the baby a kiss, too. “And my little pea.”

“Baby,” His loving words move you inside. “You’re so freaking sweet.”

“You think so?” Lifting himself back up, you’re met with that stunning grin. And you can’t help but bring your hands to his face, pressing your lips to his.

“Mhm,” It’s tender and firm, your kiss, and he leans happily into it.

“It’s only because I love you so much.” His voice has dropped an octave, and it a bit breathier than before. And you’d find his words cheesy if he wasn’t speaking to you so intensely.

Sliding his hand up he cups your cheek, urging you to lean into it. “Because I do,” He sighs, soft lips finding your neck. “I love you so much, sweet pea.”

Slowly, Jack’s fingers dip beneath the edge of your shirt, his warm palm finding the skin of your lower belly.

“You’re gonna be such a good papa, baby.” Your husband’s heart beat profoundly at the name. He can’t wait for the day.

“You wanna know how I know?” Jack’s gentle kisses take your breath away, your words coming out as a whisper to him.

“Tell me, baby.” He’s pressing his body to you, leaning into your frame. And from where he’s at, you can speak directly into his ear when you say, “Because you’re already such an amazing daddy.”

And just like that, you’ve got him’ the string of Jack’s soul wrapped tightly around your finger. His lids flutter closed, releasing a firm breath through his nose.

“I’ll always be your daddy, baby.” His voice is low, predatory, protective.

“I know, daddy.” You’re nodding, turning to look up at his handsome face.

“You’ll never need to want for anything, babycakes.” Stroking your cheek, he promises, “Daddy’ll take care of you - he’ll keep you safe.”

And right now, you do feel safe, you feel so safe and small in his arms. Nuzzling into him, your chin lifts. Now, it’s your turn to pepper his neck in sweet kisses. He’s already sighing, soft moans filtering through his pen mouth as his arms wrap tighter around you. But just as easily as he’s holding you, you break free from him, moving onto his lap.

It surprises him, but he welcomes it, nonetheless. How the hell could he not? Watching his pregnant wife crawling onto his lap made him the happiest man in the entire damn world.

“You want me?” He asks in that deep, gravelly tone, cocking his head while your arms wrap around his neck.

Nodding, you lean in, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, daddy.”

Before Jack can do or say anything else, your hands are on the front of his pants. He grins cockily, letting you undo his belt and zipper, pulling him out and stroking him in your tiny hand.

“You really want me, huh?” Your husband asks again, stroking your outer arms and then moving in to touch your sides.

That familiar feeling inside you seems to be building much quicker than it used to your emotions running high and arousal burning hot. Your body tingles with it, with the need to be touched by him, filled with him. It’s so overwhelming that you don’t even bring yourself to answer him, you just stand, shoving down your pants.

Tilting his chin up, he watches you undress, shucking your bottoms to the ground before returning to his lap.

“Oh, yeah…” Calloused hands find your naked hips, fingers grabbing hold of your flesh. He loves when you’re like this, when you’re so needy you can’t help but take initiative. “Take this -”

But you’re already taking your top off, he doesn’t even have to tell you. Within seconds, you’re completely naked in front of him, and he feels like he can’t catch his breath.

“Holy fuck,” Firmly, you grind yourself over him, ducking your pretty face into the crook of his neck. “Baby, what’s going on with you?” He chuckles, linking one arm around your lower back, his free hand finding your ass.

“I love you.” Shivering, you release a shaky breath, feeling him guide your motions.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He coos, almost mockingly, to you. “I know you do. And daddy loves you too, babycakes, he loves you…”

Sliding his hand down, he finds your crease, his fingers moving down its center. And you moan when he finds your upper hole, applying just a bit of pressure.

“Daddy, please,” Biting gently into his neck, you whine desperately. “Please fuck me, I want it. I want you so bad, baby.”

“Yeah?” He asks, a bit more aggressively. And then his hand lands on the fat of your ass, stinging your skin. “Then do it.” Gritting his teeth, he turns his head, pressing that beautifully curved nose into your cheek. “You wanna fuck daddy, baby? Yeah? Well you go on, you go right ahead.”

“Take this off.” Your fingers are scrambling over his chest, begging to feel his skin. And he complies, lifting it from his torso while demanding, “Fuck your pretty pussy open on me.”

“Oh my god,” With his chest exposed, your palms lay flat atop him. “I fucking love the way you talk.”

And still, your hips are moving over him, wetting him with the arousal seeping from your center.

“Yeah, I know.” He grins, lips curling into a cocky smirk while he watches you lift yourself. “Daddy knows you love it, I know how much that pussy wants me…”

“Baby,” Angling him upward, you sink down easily, gasping at the feel of his bulbous tip sliding past your lips.

Jack’s hands squeeze your hips as he watches you take him, eyes trained on your beautiful face. With your eyes closed, you sigh, releasing a delicate moan when he’s sheathed entirely inside. And when you’re in his lap, the soft skin of your thighs rubs against his jeans, feeling the coolness of his open zipper.

“Yeah…” Jack sighs, head lolling lazily to the side. “Yeah, how’s that feel, sugar peach? Huh?

“Daddy,” Already, your thighs are shaking around him, chest inhaling a steadying breath while you grab hold of his bare shoulders.

“Tell me,” Jack encourages gently, fingers stroking your back. And then one hand rises to the back of your neck, bringing you forward to his lips. He kisses you kindly, lips moving against your own in such a sweet way, that you’re shocked by the tone of his next two few words. “I said tell me.”

The hand on the back of your neck tightens, Jack’s stern eyes rising to bore into your widened ones. Gulping, you take in a breath. “You feel good, daddy. You feel so good inside me… Sliding your palms up his chest seems to relax him, along with your next sentence. “You always do.”

Groaning, Jack nips at your bottom lip, his hips beginning to move. Tilting his head downward, he drags his mouth over your exposed chest, using his hands to roll your hips over his lap.

“That’s good, honey.” He praises, the words muffled by your chest. “That’s a good girl, for me.”

“Daddy,” It feels pathetic, only being able to whine out a few words when he’s inside. But sex with Jack was just so incredibly overwhelming, it has been since the very first time.

The strength of his hands moves you back and forth over his crotch, not lifting you up and down but grinding you against himself. He’s holding you down, rolling his hips up just barely, while listening to your high whines. But when you finally begin to move with him, that’s when he tosses his head back with a groan.

“Oh, that’s it.” Now, you’re ushering your hips along, your pleasure center stimulated every time it nudges against his naked skin. “That’s it mama, ride me.”

“Oh my god, baby.” Digging your fingers into your husband’s shoulders, you glance down, taking in his beautiful, blissful expression. He’s never called you that before. And you’re not sure why, but it makes you fucking melt.

“God yeah,” Looking down, Jack’s eyes find the space where you’re connected, feeling himself throb against your inner walls. “Fuck yeah.”

Usually, when you rode Jack, he guided you onto him, up and down, over and over again. He loved feeling your ass slap down against him, loved forcing you onto his lap so he could reach as deep as he possibly could. But right now, he’s reveling in this - you seated on him, his cock entirely inside while you just grind back and forth over his lap. He can’t even begin to describe how sexy it is to see you like this, to see you getting yourself off on him.

“Baby,” Sliding your fingers up through his hair, you grab hold of the mocha colored strands, pulling on them. “That f-feels so good.”

“Nah, I know you can do better’n that.” Jack chastises playfully, shaking his head. Punching his hips up against your pelvis, he watches you gasp, dominant hand immediately reaching for your throat. “I know you can fuck yourself better than this.”

“Daddy, I -”

“Jesus,” He cuts you off, giving his head another quick shake. “Look at you, rubbin’ your pretty little clit against me. That feel good, honey? Does it feel good to fuck your daddy?”

“Yes!”

Lids fluttering open, you meet your husband’s gorgeous face, his lips parted as he releases the occasional groan or gasp. Quietly, he admits, “There’s nothin’ better than watching you fall apart on top of me.”

Leaning in, Jack’s mouth finds your neck, biting into your soft skin. His movement allows you to fully wrap your arms around him, repeatedly rocking your hips down onto his lap. And then, he’s smiling against your throat, tongue laying out to lick a stripe up your neck.

“You like when I call you that?” He doesn’t even have to specify for you to answer with a rapid nod and an eager yes. “Yeah, I figured you would.” Jack’s never called you a name you didn’t like.

“I made you that, after all. Didn’t I?” His deep voice is rumbling across your throat, plush lips dragging up to your ear. It’s tantalizing, the voice he has and the way he uses it against you. “You gonna let me do it again? Fuck you full? Put another baby in you?”

“Daddy, y-yes, yes please. Always.” You haven’t even had this one yet and already, you want to give him more.

Jack’s hands quickly drop, both palms fisting the curves of your ass. With a firm shove, he quickens your pace, rocking his hips up in time with yours.

“Then c’mon baby, fuck me. Fuck your daddy until you can’t take it anymore.”

You let Jack shove you over his crotch, feeling the thickness of him drag against your walls. Turning your head, you grab his face, bringing him back up to you. And he lets you move him happily, those talented lips mouthing at your own. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, rubbing across your own and moaning at the taste of your spit. He just loves it.

“Do it, baby.” Jack tilts his head up toward you, eyes full of lust and admiration. Glancing down, you sigh, holding his face in your hands. Your thumbs rub his cheeks, palms feeling the smoothness of his jawline and chin.

“Please.” He begs simply, delicately.

Pursing your lips, you let a small trail of spit drip down, Jack’s soft lips parting to capture it. His head drops back against the couch when you do it, the taste washing over his tongue.

“That’s such a good girl, baby. That’s so good, oh my god…” And then he’s shooting upright, head tilted up as he demands more. “That’s so good…”

“Hm,” Grinning, you tap his nose. “What do you want?”

“Please, baby. Give it to me.” He’s still pawing at your ass, urging you over his lap while he throbs between your legs. “Please.”

“Tell me.” You demand simply, still holding that gorgeous face in between your hands.

It’s easy to let him move your body, your hips grinding over his crotch and now beginning to lift. You need more of him; you need to feel him deep.

“Spit.” His raspy voice responds. “Spit for me, sugar. Right in my mouth.”

It was always one of Jack’s dirtiest fantasies. And you allowed him to live out every naughty thought in his mind.

Open-mouthed, he groans, feeling your saliva land on his tongue much more forcefully than before. With his eyes rolling back, he closes his mouth, feeling your movements quicken over his body.

“Oh, that’s it, mama.” Lazily, his eyes open to stare up at you, giving your outer thigh a smack. “Keep it goin’, baby…”

It’s like he’s genuinely drunk on you, inebriated from indulging in your body. His hands hold onto you, but his hips are no longer matching your thrusts. He lets you do the work, smiling lazily as he gawks at your naked form.

“B-Baby, I’m, fuck…” Dropping your head, you gasp. “I’m so close.”

“Oh god, honey. Please do it, do it for me.” Jack begs, fingers massaging your hips and outer thighs. “Please cum on me. I love when I’m all wet from you.”

“Fuck.” Jack’s dirty talk will be the fucking end of you.

Dropping your head, you move to his shoulder, leaning on him. And he lets you use him in this way, giving you the leverage you need to rub yourself against his body. With your arms looping around his neck, you whine against him, fingers curling into the ends of his hair.

“C’mon, baby.” Jack coos, his throat going dry. “I know you can do it.” Turning, he kisses your cheek, keeping his lips pressed against you as he nears his own peak. “I love when you fuck me.”

And that’s exactly what sends you surging over the edge, the pleasure of it enveloping your entire being. It shivers through you, your arms tightening around his neck. And Jack feels this, feels the tight clench around his already throbbing cock seated so deeply inside you. Both of those strong arms cling to your midsection, holding you tight while he finally moves his pelvis upward against you.

“Daddy,” It’s barely a gasp, the word breathy as it leaves your lips.

Your entire body is tensing, muscles contracting as you experience this. And you can tell your husband has reached his own bliss from the way he groans into your ear, from the way his hips stutter between your legs. His head drops back against the couch, releasing into you just like every time before this.

“Oh, baby.” Rolling his hips against you, he rides out the feeling of his high for as long as he can. And in turn, prolonging your own. “You’re so tight around me.”

Breathing heavily, you return your lips to his, mouthing passionately at them. And Jack moans into it, head rocking rhythmically as you slide your tongue in.

“I love you,” Now, both of your arms have retracted, your hands finding his gorgeous face once again. “I love you so much, baby. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but you.”

For the first time in a long time, Jack can’t find the words to respond. It takes his breath away, makes his insides squeeze with affection.

“I love you, baby doll.” Is all he can manage to say, warm hands rubbing the bare skin of your back. He likes that you’re still pressed against him, still as close as you can possibly be.

After sharing a quiet, intimate moment, Jack’s smile widens. “And I love our Little Pea.”

#Daddyyyy #our Little Pea #I love it #and him #SO MUCH #daddy whiskey #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey smut

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months ago

Note

someone said ushijima must’ve taught kageyama so much and kageyama must trust him a lot… kageyama being comfortable enough with ushijima to tug on his sleeve in canon… i ran out of tobio and oikawa things to go through and just read one of the best (explicit) fics of kageyama and ushijima instead and it was not a dynamic i knew i needed to read about until now, god bless author’s everywhere

linky link

oh this is crazy i need to read this immediately... love rarepair hq ships.AND LOVE USHIKAGE. im EXTREMEEELY extremely extremely fond of iwakage too (i.e. iwaizumi and kageyama) for similar reasons bc while kags looks up to oikawa i think iwa feeling personal responsibility for kags makes sooo much sense and makes me incredibly crazy to think about KJDSJFKS

#return to sender #ship stuff

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melon-fodder · 4 months ago

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Another picrew chain perhaps? I know we’ve all done this one before (because it’s great) but I feel like it’s perfect for the Girl Gang™️

linky-link

Delinquent!Melon vs. safe at home with boyfie Melon

@kweenkatsuki-fics @kingkatsuki @katsukikitten (hope you don’t mind me tagging y’all. no pressure!)

#picrew #tag games #winbre girl gang

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years ago

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Pine-ing For You

Father Paul has a little accident while trying to set up Christmas lights and you decide to get festive.

I got this idea while chatting with @aherdofbees, and together we developed it to get our dear priest into quite the delicious situation. She made a 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 illustration that goes with this fic. Go on, click the linkie and like and reblog, because it truly is amazing.

Thank you so much for the inspiration Allison, I loved writing this!

NSFT/18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

Pine-ing For You - 5.3K

tw: explicit sexual themes, consensual unprotected sex, body worship, smut with a lot of feelings™, attmepts at humour

Crockett Island may have seemed dull most of the time to the untrained eye, but after more than a year of living there you knew better. The people, while many of them a bit subdued, all had their little joys in life, their passions, and though they were wary of strangers that came into their little town at first, they were among the most kind and hospitable folks you had the good fortune to have met.

However, when Christmas rolled around, even the untrained eye could perceive the shift in atmosphere. It was a jolly holiday after all and the people indeed were slightly jollier. Little by little, decorations began appearing around the island. Many of them were small and decent, maybe just a wreath on a door, or an electric candlestick set in a window. Some were larger, Christmas lights on the roof, perhaps a little reindeer in the front yard. Few decorated more.

Some of these more festive looking places were the schoolhouse, which had student-made snowflakes in the windows, garlands on the windowsills, lights hung from the roof and even a charming wooden nativity scene in front. The Flynn house and The Greene house also breathed a gentle Christmas atmosphere to everyone who walked by. And then, there was Saint Patrick’s. Apparently, Monsignor Pruitt adored Christmas more than anyone else on the island and it showed. Dozens and dozens of various decorations were found in one of the storage areas of the church by Father Paul, who literally begged you to help him put them up. Which you were more than happy to do.

So now there were artificial swags at every corner of the small church, boughs of holly, wreaths, candles and another nativity set, placed right in front of the altar. This one was more detailed and painted, obviously made to be inside rather than face the weather conditions. And it was quite obvious Monsignor Pruitt took great pride in his decor collection. All that was missing were some Christmas trees.

—

Many residents of Crockett Island used artificial trees for their Christmas festivities, but there were still those who couldn’t imagine celebrating their lord’s birthday without a fine fir or a pine. One day, about a week before Christmas, a group of volunteers would gather on one of the larger fishing ships and set off to the mainland to pick out live trees for everyone on the island who wanted one. Ordering worked through simple paper forms, delivered to mailboxes by Dolly Scarborough. One would write down their name, preferred kind of tree, and its size. Filled out forms were then dropped off in the little town hall, along with the money for it. Unlike everyone else (including you) who ordered only one tree, Father Paul ordered three - two larger to be placed inside the church, one smaller for his rectory. He was, of course, among the volunteers going to actually pick the trees up.

They returned around eleven o’clock in the morning. You stood on the dock, looking at the fishing boat full of tied trees with a smile. Paul would be hauling the trees for Saint Patrick’s and the rectory first, with the help from Ed and Riley Flynn, and you convinced Sturge to help you carry the large pine tree you asked for to your home.

“Thank you again,” you said, walking next to him. You genuinely tried to help him carry it, but after a few minutes of very awkward walking and a few broken off twigs, the handyman simply threw the big tree over his shoulder and hauled it the rest of the way by himself. “Do you accept payment in gingerbreads?” you asked with a grin and raised eyebrows. Sturge thought for a while: “Yeah. But it will cost you.” “Oh? How much?” you chuckled. “I want the entire sheet.” You gave a whistle and made an amused ‘tsk’ sound: “Inflation these days…”

—

Two hours later, you stood at your kitchen counter, decorating gingerbreads with white chocolate. The pine stood tall and proud in your living room. It truly was a beautiful tree, healthy and dense, its herby scent, having already filled the room it stood in, was seeping through the rest of your house. You heard the front door open and shut, followed by some shuffling from the hallway.

“Hmm, it smells nice in here,” came a dreamy voice, making you smile. When footsteps began approaching the kitchen, you turned around to greet the priest. But then: “What are you wearing?” you asked, laughing softly. Father Paul was dressed in his skinny jeans, like usual. What wasn’t usual however, was the 'ugly Christmas jumper' instead of the black clerical shirt, its colour reminding you of his gold chasuble. There was a white nordic pattern on front, consisting of snowflakes and reindeers. It didn’t look terrible, but since you never before saw Paul wearing something like this, it kind of took your breath away for a moment.

“Do you like it?” asked Paul with a smile, pulling at his sleeves which you noticed were rather tight at the wrists. “It’s hideous,” you replied snarkily, making the priest chuckle and walk closer to you. He noticed the half decorated gingerbreads right away and was just about to reach for one when you lightly slapped his hand away. “Ouch. What was that for?” asked Paul, fake hurt in his voice. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his torso: “These are for Sturge, for lending me a hand with that tree.” “Oh I see,” replied your lover, understanding on his face, “will you make some for us, too?” You rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but smile: “Of course I will, have I ever neglected you?”

Paul pulled you close to press a soft kiss against your lips, claiming your entire attention. Therefore, you didn’t notice his hand slowly creeping up and onto the counter until it was too late, and one of the gingerbreads was snatched and promptly bit into by the father. “You scoundrel!” you smacked his chest, while Paul only laughed with his mouth full, “you’re lucky I love you.”

He swallowed his bite and batted his eyelashes at you: “it must be the sweater.” You smirked and squinted your eyes. “The jumper is hideous,” you repeated and Paul shook his head: “You really think that?” You didn’t. Taking him in once more, you had to admit that it did look rather flattering on Paul’s tall lean frame. “I knew it,” he said smugly, “you can’t lie to me, you like it.” “I don’t like it,” you tried once more, the corners of your lips turning up inadvertently. Paul took another bite of the gingerbread: “Hm, you love it.”

A few moments later, during which you picked at the soft wool of your lover’s jumper while he hummed appreciatively at the taste of your baking, you gave him a kittenish smile: “Since you’ve got nothing better to do right now than be a menace,” he opened his mouth in mock-offence before smiling cheekily, “you could go and start with the Christmas tree, what do you say?” “Hm,” he thought, “I thought we’d do it together?” Your arms encircled his waist again, pulling him closer and lifting your head to meet his eyes: “We will, but you could at least start putting the lights on. It’s a beast of a tree and I wouldn’t be able to reach the top, unlike a certain tall priest.”

He gave you a soft smile and pecked the tip of your nose, before brushing his lips against yours: “Very well.” You watched in curiosity, as his hands came up to rest on your hips and his eyes bore into your own. And then, in less than a second, he was scrambling away, another gingerbread in his hand. You gasped and stared after him, mischievous dark eyes twinkling at you until he rounded a corner. “Unbelievable!” you called after him.

—

You were pretty happy with your work, before you on the counter lay a sheet of nicely decorated gingerbreads of various shapes. Save for the two Father Paul stole right under your nose, but you supposed Sturge wouldn’t really notice that. You were in the middle of moving them into a container, when a dull thud sounded from the living room. “Paul? Is everything alright?” you called. A deafening silence was your only answer for several seconds and you started getting worried, when Paul’s sheepish voice reached your ears: “Um… A little help here, (F/N)?” You finished storing the cookies away, wiped your hands on a kitchen towel and made your way to the living room.

You couldn’t see the priest at first, but when you did, you began giggling uncontrollably. Paul was lying on his stomach very nearly under the tree, the christmas lights cord in his outstretched hand. His torso was bare and you could see the yellow jumper and white undershirt tangled around Paul’s arms, caught on one of the tree’s strong branches. He was looking at you abashed, his cheeks a little rosy with embarrassment.

You learned fairly early on in your relationship that for all of Paul’s amazing qualities, his skill as a priest, his knack for cooking, and his knowledge of your body as a lover, he was sometimes quite clumsy and very accident prone. A week wouldn’t pass without him bashing his little toe on some piece of furniture and you’d often find small bruises on his arms and legs, prompting him to sheepishly explain the cause for them. It was usually doors.

“I’m so sorry,” you said after you caught your breath and walked closer to him, kneeling by his side, “but what happened?” Father Paul released a huff and an adorable pout formed on his lips. “I wanted to turn on the lights. I got under the tree, on my knees, and tried to plug the cord into the socket. I couldn’t reach it though, and wanted to get out, try a different angle. But, um,” he paused, wetting his lips with his tongue, “I caught my shirt on a branch. I tried to untangle it, but couldn’t. So I thought I’d just try to take the shirt off, free it from the branch and put it on again. This is as far as I got…” The priest looked angrily at his hands, “the sleeves are too tight at the wrists, I can’t get my hands out! I mean, I tried yanking away, but the tree swayed rather nastily and I was worried it would collapse on top of me.”

“Wait,” you said with an amused grin, “are you really actually trapped? You can’t get out of there?” Father Paul 'tsked: “Yes. I am trapped under a Christmas tree. Can you help me?” You smiled softly at him and pet his hair. You proceeded to move forward, crawling under the tree yourself (mindful of any mischievous branches) and snatching the cord from Paul’s hand. You plugged it in and the living room was suddenly illuminated by multicoloured Christmas lights. You crawled back and sat leisurely on the ground, close to the priest’s head. Paul looked at you expectantly for a while, but after seeing you showed no intention to free him, a look of shock came over his face: "Wha- You're really going to leave me here?”

You once more moved your hand to his head, fingers carding through his dark hair: “'Leaving you' is the last thing on my mind,” you moved until you were lying down next to him, hand now coming to stroke his cheek and jaw, “but right now, I think I like you exactly. Where. You. Are,” you exaggerated each word, thumb moving to stroke the edges of Paul’s lips. “You look like an early Christmas present,” you purred, leaning your head on your free hand. Paul closed his eyes at the feeling of your clever fingers once again combing through the soft curls on the back of his neck. “Are you-... are you really trying to seduce me while I’m trapped under a Christmas tree?”

You giggled airily, tugging at the soft hair gently and delighting in Paul’s tiny little gasps: “Hmm, maybe… Is it working?” Paul’s head fell down to lean on his arms, his cheeks got even darker and in a quiet voice he replied: “A little.” You slowly scratched at his scalp, smiling lovingly each time he leaned into your touch. "Hey," you said then, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you. Your thumb found his lips again and you gave him a look he could read perfectly by now. 'Tell me you're not ok with this and I'll stop.' it said. Warmth spread through Paul's chest, followed by a gentle tingle of anticipation.

He pressed his lips against your thumb further in a small kiss, before smiling slightly and blinking at you coquettishly, and he too attempted to speak to you with his eyes: ‘I want this’.

You gave him one more gentle smile, before leaning back and looking at him appreciatively: “My, my, I must have been so nice this year, what a lovely present.” The priest chuckled into his arms: “Are you going to tear the wrapping paper off?” Your head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on your face. One fingertip stroked along Paul’s earlobe, descending down upon his pulsepoint and feeling his increasing heartbeat. “Nope, I don’t do that, it’s no fun” you shook your head, “I always unwrap presents slowly, peeling the tape off and trying not to damage the paper. Sometimes I even stop midway, because the anticipation makes it so much better.

“I think I’ll start with the parts that are unwrapped already,” you purred into his ear and moved closer, both of your hands coming to rest on his shoulders while you pressed small kisses into his hair, lips moving down to brush against the nape of his neck. “Hm,” you sighed contently, “such a pretty neck, long and elegant, like a swan, almost regal,” you bit lightly at the beginning of his spine, making your lover release a short gasp, “so sensitive.” You moved lower, hands sliding across shoulder blades: “Beautiful golden skin, like honey, soft, and warm, and very sweet.” Father Paul could feel more hotness entering his already red cheeks. Your whispered praises always had a profound effect on him. He hid his face in his arms.

“Strong shoulders and back, muscles defined perfectly but gently,” you continued and now dragged your fingernails across the entire length of the priest's back, making him quietly groan in pleasure. You’ve never met anyone who didn’t like their back scratched, but Paul seemed particularly enraptured by it. You made sure to lightly graze every inch of the golden skin, finding all the right spots, all the while pushing hot kisses onto every single freckle you could see and connecting them with your tongue.

Paul couldn’t help but chuckle when he felt your hands give his clothed bum a squeeze. “Girls love a guy with a lovely arse, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” you whispered cheekily and gave the lovely arse another squeeze, “alright, let me see the other side of this present before I start unwrapping it further.”

You helped Paul carefully roll over and onto his back, his wrists, still bound by his own clothes, now crossed over one another. Dark hair peeked at you from under the priest’s arms, and his pink nipples looked like little pearls screaming for attention. And they weren’t the only thing craving attention. Paul’s erection was tenting the dark grey skinny jeans and his eyes fluttered when you ran a finger over it. You gave him a grin: “Sorry, I’ve always been a little impatient, but I promise I’ll try to be good.” Paul shuddered out a laugh, his breathing a little shallow: “I wouldn’t be mad either way.”

Slowly you put a leg over his waist and straddled your lover: “Now, where were we? Oh, yeah,” you leaned forward and took his face into your hands, thumbs caressing his brow. “Thick, expressive eyebrows… Dark eyes, so, so large. Like a dolly,” you leaned forward to press your lips against Paul’s eyelids, then pulled away again, “cute, well defined nose, perfect for kissing,” once more you made your point by pecking the entire length of your lover’s nose, making him produce a fluttery chuckle.

“Though, of course, your entire face is perfect for kissing,” you smiled at him lovingly and then your fingers traced the edges of his lips, “but most of all it’s your mouth. That perfect cupid’s bow. I see it, and I want to trap it between my own lips. When you smile, when you pout, when you do that adorable little mouth shrug… When you talk, to me, to your congregation. When your mouth is slightly open and I can see your upper teeth just peeking through. I always want to kiss you.”

You crushed your lips against Paul’s, teeth clashing and tongues moulding against each other. He groaned into your hungry mouth and wanted to curl his arms around you, but soon remembered he was bound and released a desperate sound instead. You only parted from him when the lack of oxygen threatened to take your consciousness away. A tiny string of saliva followed you for a bit, before it snapped and landed on Paul's kiss bruised lips. You kissed the slight cleft in his chin and playfully dipped your tongue into it.

The emotion in your eyes as you pulled back could have made Paul cry, you were looking at him as if he was the rarest jewel, the most fantastical treasure in the world, as if he was your sun and moon and stars. “You have no idea just how beautiful you really are, do you? Inside and out,” you whispered, hands returning to stroke the side of the priest’s face, which was once more getting hot. This time however, he couldn’t hide it and as he lay there, absorbing each and every one of your words, Paul realised he didn’t even want to hide. You leaned closer again, whispering against his open mouth: “So beautiful, so very pretty.” An involuntary moan escaped him.

You smiled against his mouth, then ducked your head lower, nibbling softly around Paul's jawline before descending upon his throat, teeth scraping over his Adam's apple right as he swallowed heavily. You shifted until you sat directly on his hips and rolled your own, rubbing against his constricted erection and making his head fall back, those fine lips opening wordlessly. He took large gulps of air, hands involuntarily trying against his restraints once more. “Soon,” you promised, rolling your hips again, “but do try not to move your hands too much. I really don’t want the tree to actually fall down on our heads. Can you imagine explaining that to Sarah, when we show up all bruised and battered?”

The priest made an unhappy little sound, but tried to keep his hands as still as he could anyway. You made your way down his chest, nuzzling your face into his soft skin and delivering soft kisses and playful bites every time you felt like it. Paul sighed when your lips reached one of his nipples. You circled the nub with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth and pinching it with your teeth lightly. You used your fingers to stimulate the other nipple in perfect synchronisation with your mouth, trying various techniques and listening to Paul’s shallow gasps and quiet groans for feedback.

After alternating between the two, now red and swollen, buds for several minutes, you decided to carry on with your adventurous journey across Paul’s exquisite body, and ran the tips of your fingers against his ribs teasingly. You grinned widely when your lover made a little jump, trying to get away from your touch now: “N-no, don’t,” he gasped, but it was pointless. You again stroked over his ribs and under his arms, and was soon rewarded with choked laughter. “A-angel, please… please don’t tickle me right now,” he begged in between chuckles. You giggled, but took mercy on him, climbing up to steal a kiss: “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t resist.”

You sat back onto his thighs and gave the priest a reassuring smile after you laid your hands on his sensitive ribs again, this time your entire palms, intent on caressing him and bringing him pleasure. You stroked down, soon finding an obstacle in your way. Father Paul’s jeans looked so, so tight around his hard shaft it must’ve been painful, and you licked your lips as you made eye contact with him and rubbed the heel of your hand over his length. He shuddered and his eyes fluttered closed on their own. You repeated the motion, making your lover groan with pleasure.

“I think it’s time for me to unwrap my present,” you whispered huskily and waited for him to look at you. When he did, you sat even further away, all the way above his knees, and began making a show of popping open the button and torturingly slowly pulling his zipper down. Your fingers curled below the waistline on each side of the trousers and you tugged them down, little by little, revealing one, then two edges of his hip bone, protruding under his skin enticingly. You left the jeans bunched in the middle of his thighs and observed the priest amorously.

His hands, still crossed at the wrists above his head were balled into fists, fingers white at the knuckles. Paul’s face was flushed dark pink, with sweat gathering in his hairline, one drop of it having already rolled down his cheek. His lips were swollen from kissing. Well, his upper lip anyway, the bottom one was currently trapped between Paul’s teeth, but you presumed it’d be in a similar condition. He was breathing hard, his eyes dark with lust, and there was a damp spot on the front of his grey boxer briefs. You bowed to press a wet kiss just below his sternum, then lower, then lower again, relishing the soft tender skin of the priest's tummy.

You drew a circle around Father Paul’s belly button with your tongue and started pinching the area underneath with your teeth, teasing at the happy trail going down into his underwear. You looked up after reaching the waistband, catching your lover’s intense gaze. He whimpered softly when instead of going where he needed you the most, you bit into that tempting hip bone. “Please…” he whispered, feeling like he was going to go insane if you were to tease him much longer. Paul didn’t even realise his eyes were closed until your soft hand touched his cheek and he opened them again. You were smiling at him warmly, a look filled with tenderness. He willingly opened his mouth for you when you moved your hand to the back of his neck and kissed him soundly.

At the same time you finally pushed your hand under the waistband of his briefs and took a hold of his aching member. Paul moaned into your mouth in relief, his eyes shutting closed and eyebrows turning upwards. You fondled his manhood steadily, massaging it slowly with your thumb drawing little circles into the heated skin. He breathed hard against your mouth once he had to part for breath, and you stuck your tongue out to trace his lips before pushing it back between them. You were slow in your movements, yet Paul soon found himself nearing his peak.

“Wait,” he managed to get out and you let go of him right away. He tried to convey what he wanted with his eyes and, thankfully, you seemed to understand. You climbed off of him, lying down by his side instead so you could make out some more. From his position, Paul now had some access to your neck and he immediately used this fact to his advantage, pressing sloppy kisses and bites against your pulse point while you massaged his scalp with your fingers. He attempted to duck his head lower, but was held back by his restraints. He gave you another pleading look and you started removing articles of your own clothing, as well as ridding him of the jeans and boxers entirely.

Once you were as naked as he (save for the jumper and shirt tangled on his arms), You climbed back over him, bracing yourself on one hand above his head and pushing your bosom level with his face. Wasting no time, Paul began kissing the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to circle your nipples and flick over them. Meanwhile, your other hand was between your legs, two fingers slowly moving inside your heat in a scissoring motion, stretching yourself. You rested your head against Paul’s, your content sighs fanning over the priest’s black hair.

Suddenly, Paul produced an alarmed sound and turned his head away. You immediately lifted yourself off him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” you asked, your arousal now mixed with worry. He screwed his eyes shut before releasing a sheepish chuckle: “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just-... um, there is a pine needle getting somewhere it definitely should not be getting.” You started laughing quietly, Paul joining you shortly after. After you fished out the pine needle from under the back of his thigh and made sure there were no more pointy things threatening anything vital, you wanted to lean forward again, but Paul stopped you. “I want to watch,” he said. You smiled down at him and made a show of fucking yourself with your own fingers.

Once you felt sufficiently ready, you pulled your digits out and moved down Paul’s body, pushing your hips together. You rolled your hips a few times, the underside of the priest’s cock sliding through your wet folds. Using your now free hand, you reached behind yourself and guided your lover inside. Paul bent one leg at the knee and pushed his hips up to meet you halfway. Both of you choked out a small gasp. Despite your preparation, you needed a few moments to get used to Paul’s width.

You experimentally raised your hips before sinking back, trying to find an angle that worked the best for you. A few thrusts later, you felt a bolt of pleasure shoot through your spine and into your core, and grinned. You lowered yourself until your body was flush with Paul’s and carefully slipped your arms under his, hands coming to tangle into his hair. You connected your foreheads and looked into his eyes deeply as you started thrusting against him in that brilliant angle.

Paul’s laboured breathing and delicate moans blew across your cheeks, warming them more than the blood gathered there. You tilted your head to the side and let your lips connect in an uncoordinated kiss, keeping your eyes open. Paul’s hands were shaking from how much he wanted to reach out for you, all the while keeping in mind that was the only thing he couldn’t do, so he instead tried to convey all the ways he wanted to touch you in through his mouth, sucking on your lower lip, biting your tongue gently, licking a wet strip along your jaw.

Your movements sped up and the fire within you started burning brighter, every single thrust like a spurt of gasoline into a flame. You hid your face into Paul’s heated neck, feeling his heart hammering away at a rapid speed, sensing his groans and whimpers before actually hearing them. You wrapped yourself around him completely, as if willing your bodies to mould into one. The priest bent his leg a bit more, gaining better leverage to pound up into you, feeling his upcoming release nearing as well.

Once Paul heard your moans becoming more urgent, felt your walls beginning to flutter around him and saw your thighs trembling, he started nudging your head with his own, wordlessly attempting to make you look at him, reveal your face. He loved watching you fall apart, your face showing nothing but pleasure, raw, almost unhinged. It was a sight only he was allowed to see, nearly sacred. You raised your head with some difficulty and rested it back against his, your pupils blown wide and constantly disappearing and reappearing behind fluttering eyelids.

You were on the very brink, moments before plummeting down into the abyss, and your hips lost all sense of rhythm. “Come for me, angel,” Paul groaned and delivered a sharp thrust upwards, effectively shoving you over the edge. Your fingers closed in his hair harshly and a wave of pleasure exploded in your core, shooting into your veins like a drug. You gasped violently, releasing a series of short high pitched whimpers as your heat began pulsing around Paul’s twitching shaft. He continued thrusting into you, hitting that little bundle of nerves and effectively prolonging your orgasm.

You were blushing everywhere, sweating, trembling through heaps of bliss, yet a drunken smile bloomed on your face. Your unfocused eyes connected with Paul’s, their gaze intense and almost desperate. “S-so, ah, you’re so b-beautiful, Paul,” you managed to stutter out, and then only watched the fireworks go off in those nearly black orbs. They widened for a millisecond and then, as if a rope snapped, you could see Paul fighting to keep them even open. You would have almost thought he was in pain, with his hands trembling violently, his mouth opening into an ‘o’ shape to release a long moan, and his head tilting back.

Your walls were painted white, spurt after spurt of hotness spreading through your core. Together you shook through the aftershocks, slowly coming down your highs. You collapsed against your lover, trying to get your breathing under control once more. Several minutes of lazy kisses and whispered words of love later, Paul tried tugging his arms free once more, causing some more pine needles to descend upon your cooling bodies. You groggily climbed up his body until you were able to reach the treacherous twig and untangle it from Father Paul’s shirt.

The priest stretched his arms and proceeded to pull both his jumper and shirt off of him, tossing them somewhere to your left. Finally, finally, he was able to hold you and immediately did just so. “You were right,” he said quietly, voice hoarse, “it is a horrible sweater.” You giggled and let yourself slide down and onto your side, lying next to him. “I don’t know,” you purred, your hand coming to caress his cheek, “I think it’s starting to grow on me.”

You shivered slightly, your body having already cooled down from your previous activities, and reached for a blanket which was draped over your sofa. You threw it over the two of you and got comfortable in the father’s arms. “If there was an advent calendar of making love during Christmas time, this would definitely be there. Under the tree,” you mused, your voice light and airy. “Wonder what would be hidden under ‘24’,” replied Paul in the same manner, “making love after the midnight Mass?” You grinned into his neck, one of your hands slowly massaging his shoulder: “A lovely suggestion.”

“Still want to decorate the tree?” he asked after a while, pressing small kisses into your hair. You murmured something unintelligible and hid your face again. Paul chuckled lowly: “Okay, shower and a movie then?” “Yeah,” you breathed into his skin, “we’ll do the tree first thing tomorrow.” Paul hummed in agreement. You lay cuddled beneath the Christmas tree, the colourful lights dancing on your bare limbs and the smell of pine lingering sweetly in the air. “We could decorate the one in the rectory after. And bake those gingerbreads only for us.”

A giggle started blooming in your chest, soon turning into a full on laughter. “You really are unbelievable!” you bit into your lower lip and pulled back to look into his large eyes. They reflected the big genuine smile on Paul’s face perfectly: “I’ll even wear the sweater.” You shook your head and quickly crushed your lips against his. Absolutely unbelievable.

Thank you for reading, I hope you had a good time c: As always, you can find this story and all of my other stories over on AO3. Please, be sure to check out @aherdofbees tumblr as well, she makes the most spectacular art!

the first tags are sentences I had to restrain myself from using in order not to look like the last bits of sanity finally packed their bags and kissed me goodbye

@everythingbutresolved @agirlinherhead @rothko-mirror @littleredwritingcat @vintageglassheart02 @thexhostess @fatherpaulsimp @blackberries45 @daughterofaries @exorcise-my-demons sending kisses ××

#Are you stuck step-priest #Too bad father I'm the meow meow now #Father Paul and reader share two braincells and reader has them most of the time #midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #father paul hill #father paul #father paul x reader #father paul x you #father paul smut #fluff #celebrating christmas by getting onto the naughty list #christmas smut #all aboard the thirst train!

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