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#whiskey drinks are actually so nice when mixed well
pegging-satan · 1 year
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Going to the bar dressed like Dazai and ordering an old fashioned just to feel something while playing with the ice ball
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sydnikov · 6 months
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Being Bold || S. Jarvis
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader
Word Count: 7.4k
Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing
A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!
*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.
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You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.
Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.
Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.
He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.
Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.
He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.
“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.
“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.
Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.
Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.
“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.
You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.
“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”
“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”
“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.
“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”
Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.
Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.
Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.
But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.
“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?
Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.
“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”
“Space? You think she just needs space?”
“Well, not too much space—”
“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.
Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.
Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.
In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?
You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.
It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.
Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.
Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.
You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.
The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.
The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.
“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.
You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”
“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”
It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.
“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”
“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”
You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.
If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.
“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”
You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”
Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.
You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.
The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.
“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.
“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.
You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.
The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.
“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”
Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.
“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”
You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”
“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”
Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.
You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”
That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.
“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”
Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.
Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.
He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”
You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.
“I want you. You know that, baby.”
“Seth…”
“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.
You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.
Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.
“Okay.”
Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”
That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.
“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”
“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”
He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.
You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.
He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.
You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.
For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.
“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.
“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.
He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.
“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.
Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.
You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.
He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.
You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.
“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”
You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.
“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.
“Not long enough, babe.”
You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.
What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.
“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.
He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.
You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.
Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.
Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.
“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.
“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.
Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.
“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.
“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.
Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.
“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.
He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.
“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.
Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.
Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.
And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?
You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.
If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.
You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.
Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.
You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.
Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.
He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.
Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.
Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.
“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”
Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.
“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.
Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.
When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.
“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”
Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.
“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”
“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.
Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.
“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”
Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.
And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.
There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.
Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”
“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”
“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”
His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.
His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.
It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.
By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.
You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.
You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.
Especially after Scott. Asshole.
You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.
“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.
His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.
“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.
Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.
Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”
You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.
Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.
He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.
“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”
“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.
Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.
“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.
You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.
“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.
He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.
“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”
“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.
Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.
Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.
You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.
Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.
You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.
“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.
Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.
While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.
Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.
All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.
With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.
When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.
He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.
“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.
You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.
Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”
Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.
He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”
“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.
His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.
When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?
He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.
Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:
Be bold.
“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”
As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”
Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.
“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”
And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.
“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”
“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”
“Okay.”
It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.
“Can I be your boyfriend now?”
“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”
You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”
“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.
But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.
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A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu
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myflagmeansace · 5 months
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Hi all! It's taking a lot longer to caption Samba's BTS improv video, but here's the video without captions and a separate transcript with dialogue tags for now! 😘
Scene 1
Ed is determined to banter about Jeff's Inn by the Sea after gravy basket Hornigold ruined it.
Ed (proudly announcing what he does at the inn): My specialty is seafood. Um and I cook the sea...food.
Stede (completely and earnestly smitten): You cook it perfectly, by the way.
Ed (sweetly accepting his compliment): Thank you! 😊
Stede (so appreciative of his love's fictional cooking skills): I love that.
Ed (remembering how well Stede pours drinks *possibly inspired by the Ed draped across a bar fanart Taika called out in the IMDB The Outfronts interview*): Um and you are the cocktail man.
Stede (so excited about his role): I am the cocktail man!
Ed: Yeah!
Stede (really playing into his role): I make a drink or two.
Ed (a little dazed at imagining Stede as a cocktail man pouring him several drinks): Yep oh yeah! Um and more than two sometimes.
Stede (feeling a little cheeky): Sometimes we get on it, don't we? Yeah!
Ed (picking up on what Stede is putting down but also fuck off Hornigold, Ed is totally a people person at this fictional inn!): Yeah, yeah! You know, we get on it. You work the back of house, I work the front of house.
Stede: Yes!
Ed: Yep.
Stede (recognizing the importance of taking turns, in more than one way 😉): Sometimes I work the front of house.
Ed (agreeing to being a versatile partner): Yeah and then I-you give me a turn working the back.
Stede: Yes.
Ed: Yeah.
Stede (shameless at this point): You like that, don't you?
Ed (a little flustered but keeping his cool): Aw, I mean, I-you know, it's just nice for a change now and then, you know?
Stede (liking the thought of keeping Ed satisfied): Something different. Yeah!
Ed (admitting to himself why he likes working the back): Yeah! It's just nice to be in control.
*Stede proudly gazing at Ed*
Scene 2
Taika: *breaks, closing his eyes and smiling*
Rhys: *wheezing/laughing*
Scene 3
Stede (leaning into his role of cocktail man, expert of drinks): Well imagine us as...a mixed drink.
Ed (absolutely smitten, ready to listen and pressing his finger against his lips to calm the urge to press his lips all over the dork in front of him): I am imagining it!
Stede (really struggling to capture the expertise of a cocktail man because he's more of a gardening guy so he can't think of a drink good enough to compare Ed to so he goes with whatever sounds cool and tough): You're the hard...sort of...
Ed (smile falls and starts feeling sad because Stede is calling him hard when he's really just a soft kitty princess but he'll go along with it because he gets it 😿 he copies his hand gestures to appear agreeable): I'm the hard one.
Stede (sweating bullets):...rustic...
Ed (definitely not liking the word rustic and tucking in his paws, I mean hands): Yeah.
Stede (knowing he’s completely boned it as a cocktail man): Ummm...
Ed (trying to save the moment and compares himself to a rare whiskey): The bitter one like a whiskey.
Stede (agreeing out of desperate relief): Bitter whiskey at the bottom. Yes!
Ed (remembering he doesn't actually like whiskey but he does like rum): Yeeah. Like yes, yeah. I'm like the whiskey or the rum.
Stede (changing the focus to distract Ed from his clumsy cocktail man moment): And I'm the fluffy kind of ✨️epervescent✨️…
(new word alert lol I think he meant effervescent)
Ed (entertained by the word choice): Ohhhh!
Stede (playing it up with jazz hands):...tang!
Ed (doesn't dare correct his excited boyfriend): Epervescent!
Stede: Yes!
Ed (gestures at his bubbly boyfriend): Yeah! You're the bubbly one!
Stede (wiggling in excitement): That just jumps in on top!
Ed: The Tang!
Stede: Yeah!
Ed (trying out a pickup line): Yeah you're the tang to my tong.
Stede (has no idea what a tong is but he loves rhyming): Ahhh! You're the zangy, I'm the tangy!
Ed (absolutely enamored and giggling with joy at Stede's flirting): Aw The Zangy and the Tangy! We should call the joint that! The Seaside and…
Stede (high pitched mating call): Tangy and Zangy!
Ed (falls apart laughing, holding on to Stede): ...Tangy Zang-!
Scene 4
Ed (giving Stede a boyfriend test): We're very different you see. We're cut from different cloths us two. Um but somehow when you stitch that cloth together...
Stede (appreciating Ed's deep thoughts): Mmm.
Ed: What does it make?
Stede (passing the test with flying colors): Well, a beautiful seam! ❤️
Ed: 💘😳🥰🫠
Scene 5
Ed (taking the opportunity to analyze and get near the Stiddies): We're leather and silk.
Stede (oblivious, trying to romantically serenade Ed): Leather and silk!
Ed: It's uh...*begins nervously singing too* and all things milk!
Stede (heartfelt but slightly confused crooning): ...together!
Ed (trying his best to rhyme): ...and from different ilks.
Ed (starts over, pulling it together as he goes): Leather and silk, from different ilks...
Stede (too stubborn to be apart from Ed even in song):...together we....
*Stede waits, anticipating a masterpiece finish*
Ed (hyperfocusing on dairy and possibly Stiddies at this point): ...from the udder...of life...we make milk!
*Stede remains utterly still as his brain catches up with Ed's*
*Ed finishes, baffled by his own song but he stands by those words because life really is like a cow's udder, and leather and silk are of different ilks, and in a strange and cosmic way, they do indeed make milk 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽*
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stories-and-chaos · 7 months
Text
Shrike: Angel Learns a Lesson
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[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable. Silly one shot inspired by my brain saying ‘what if a Stolas-esque bleep fest was extremely clinical’]
[One shot, 1106 words, no warnings needed]
—————
“Okay toots, you an’ me gotta talk,” Angel Dust found you reading in the hotel parlor. The lanky spider demon had been itching to talk to you one on one since you moved into the hotel. You’d moved into Alastor’s suite, happy to finally have your husband back after his seven year ‘sabbatical.’ That meant you were mostly in the Radio Demon’s company. Angel had learned not to ask him about sex the hard way.
You looked much more approachable. You had the air of a delicate bird. A little shorter than Vaggie, you had the perfect amount of curves for an hourglass figure. The shimmering flapper dress you wore showed that off nicely. Even though your arms and legs were vividly red for ⅔ of their length, they weren’t too alarming. Even your talons looked delicate. The black mask across your eyes was striking but offset by the fluffy silver hair framing your face. Your wings didn’t have a sharpness like a bird of prey and were proportioned more like a songbird.
All in all, you looked sweet, cheerful, and non-threatening.
So on a day that Alastor was out while you remained at the hotel, Angel Dust got the perfect opportunity to get some of the goods about tall, dark, and spooky. “Oh! Angel! What can I help you with?”
“I gotta know sweet cheeks, what do you an’ Al get up to?” You made an inquiring noise as you tilted your head to one side. Even that motion was bird-like. The porn star stared at you, unsure if you were pranking him. But the silence stretched on and he realized you actually didn’t understand. “Wha…how…you…” he didn’t know how to talk about sex with someone who didn’t understand innuendo. “How do you and Smiles have sex?”
That just confused you more. “Angel, ma petite araignée, I thought you worked in the sex industry. Surely you know the mechanics.” You paused. “Though I suppose I wouldn’t put it past that lousy moth to keep you in the dark.”
“I know how banging works! Jeez, I can’t do this sober.” He ordered drinks from a Husk that was trying not to laugh. He drank one, got a refill and brought one back for you as well. “A’right. You and Alastor are both as thick as two short planks about anything sexy, so I wanna know how you guys ever do anything in bed. Besides sleeping,” he hastened to add.
“Ooooooooh, okay! Sure, I don’t mind talking. But you gotta explain all those innuendos we don’t understand, got it cher?”
“You got it toots. Now spill, start with how often you do the deed.”
You sipped your whiskey as you thought back over the last century. “Mm, anywhere from one to four times a year? It varies, but infrequently is a good way to put it.”
“You only have sex once a year?!”
“I didn’t say that. It’s usually just for the night but intercourse occurs more than once when we feel up to it. Multiple times usually,” you clarified with a chuckle.
“Okay, makes sense, ya got me there. So it’s just when you’re both in the mood then?”
“I suppose you could put it that way. It’s an enjoyable activity, just not something we need to do. Or want to do as much as most.”
“A’right, we got the scheduling figured out. I gotta know technique. Positions, toys, he into kinky shit? You into kinky shit?” He leaned on the couch back, thrilled that he got you talking.
“Well [redacted] is our usual position. We’ve tried [beep], [bleep], [what], [why]. Oh and [really?] but that was uncomfortable for Alastor. [redacted] and [redacted] were fun but we were so worn out the next day. I like [beeeeeeeeeeep] to mix things up. I don’t know if they count as kinky but [oh god], [nope], [beepbeep], [thats a thing?], [redacted], [please stop], [srsly], and [wow] are all things we’ve attempted over the years. I like some [bleeping all this] and [this too] personally while he enjoys [hide your eyes], [nope], [double nope]. Oh, I almost forgot [holy shit], we gave that a try before his sabbatical.” Angel and Husk both looked at you in disbelief as your list grew. Then you continued.
“As for toys…[don’t wanna know], [redacted], [dang girl], and [bleepbleepBLEEP] all see some use. I guess [redacted] also counts. We tried [no thanks] but I hated it. We’ve both agreed we never want to try [ew] or [gross]. [How even?] has been fun. Alastor has indulged me with [no more please] a few times. Of course I reciprocate with some [BEEPBLEEP] if he asks. But really it’s mostly [redacted] for us. I’m sure we’re terribly boring compared to what you’ve been up to, ma petite araignée.”
Angel blinked at you in a daze. He held his drink loosely in his hand before downing it in a desperate gulp. Husk was once again pulling his ears down in extreme embarrassment. “I wouldn’t say that toots.”
You brushed his mop of hair from his face. The poor thing looked dazed. “Angel, cher, I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight. Husk, do you have any water for him?”
“Getting to know the guests my dear?” Alastor manifested from the shadows, making Angel jump and you smile.
“More the other way around darling.”
“So long as everyone is behaving themselves. I wanted to know if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight? I’ve come across a little place that claims to have authentic Cajun cuisine.”
“Mais oui! Although I’m surprised you’re willing to try after what happened to the last restaurant.”
“You cannot dump black pepper into sausage and rice and call it jambalaya. It’s a sin and a disgrace and the place deserved to burn for it.”
“Right you are, Alastor. Am I dressed well enough or shall I go change?” You stood up and twirled for his inspection.
“Hmm, lovely as always my dear.” He held out his arm for you. “Until later chums!”
“We’ll be back! Make sure you get some rest Angel,” you called as Alastor led you out.
Once the two of you were gone, Angel slumped over Husk’s bar. “I didn’t imagine that right? You heard her too, right?”
“Oooh yeah. I kept saying not to ask, but you just had to know.”
“Yeah well I learned my lesson. I’m gonna need another drink after that.”
“Nah, I think Y/N was right about you having enough for now.” Husk pushed a glass of water over to him, garnished with a lemon slice.
“Asshole.” Angel did drink the water though.
A/N: This is absolutely drawn from my being married for 10+ years and still not understanding innuendos. Doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done it, that’s not how I’m wired. I’m going with “you can’t be embarrassed if you don’t care” as to why Shrike is so frank with Angel btw. It’s as embarrassing as picking out her shoes for the day. Also when you’re approaching triple digits in how long you’ve been with a partner, I figure you’ve tried everything under the sun and beyond, purely out of curiosity. My count has roughly 600 instances from 150 evenings over their life- and death-time. Feel free to mad libs her bleeped portions, I honestly only filled in a third of them in my brain, and the canonicity is dubious anyway.
@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3
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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year
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You’re Mine, Whether You Know it or Not -Klaus M.
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Kidnapping theme, slight Yandere Klaus
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You had been hanging out with Klaus for several weeks now.
It had started as an accident. You were excited as everyone in the Boarding house had gone out, leaving you all alone to watch TV and relax. You had stolen a bottle of Damon’s oldest Whiskey and mixed it with some coke, enjoying a tipsy night of movies, or so you thought.
Klaus had shown up looking for Damon and while you ignored the knock at the front door, the Hybrid didn’t need to be invited in anymore so he just walked into the house.
~~
‘Damon isn’t here. He’ll be back later after he saves Elena or Stefan or…I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. I’ll let him know you stopped by.’ You unpaused your movie, expecting the man to leave as he had no need to speak to you and you had never met before now so you had no reason to speak.
‘You won’t mind if I wait for him here, will you?’ It didn’t sound like much of a question so you ignored him, facing the TV again. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you here before…are you new?’ You shook your head.
‘Nope. I just try and stay out of their Supernatural issues. They have nothing to do with me and it’s not like I can help. Useless little human right here so you have no reason to try and hurt me.’ You grabbed another glass, pouring him some of Damon’s bourbon before handing the glass over. ‘Not that you would. You seem like a nice enough guy, personally I think Damon is a bit dramatic when it comes to you. If he just left you alone it would solve like 75% of the problems.’ You shrugged and didn’t notice the way the Hybrid had been staring at you since the moment he walked in. It only seemed to get worse as you spoke with him but you continued drinking and explaining the movie to him so he was caught up. He moved to sit beside you and spent the evening watching movies beside you until you eventually fell asleep on his shoulder.
That was the first time you ever met Klaus Mikaelson and you had considered it a good moment, you actually enjoyed speaking with the centuries old man, he had fascinating stories and he listened to you in a way none of your friends ever did, as if you had something interesting to say.
Klaus always gave you his undivided attention, to the point of ignoring real problems in his day to day life, not that you would know that but his family took notice. Elijah noted how you had captured his brothers attention and honestly, it worried him a bit. Elijah knew you to be a very sweet, kind hearted girl, you never judged anyone too harshly considering you liked him as well and only based things on how people treated you personally, and Klaus? He was always so kind to you. Kol noticed you as well and had been threatened by his elder brother repeatedly about leaving you alone and for once, Kol heeded those threats, there was something about how he spoke about you that the younger Mikaelson didn’t want to fuck around with.
Your friends repeatedly warned you about Klaus, now knowing that you were spending time with him nearly daily, to the point that he needed to see you at least once every day to ensure his day went well, if he didn’t see your smiling face at least once the Hybrid would be a miserable asshole all day.
Klaus went so far as to take care of you when you were sick. He had given you his number one of those first days you spent time together and while you didn’t use it much, when you woke up feeling sick that morning you texted him that you wouldn’t be out that day and to not wait up for you at the Grille. What you didn’t expect however was him showing up at your doorstep with bags of god knows what. When you saw the cold medicine and the food he had gotten to make you soup you realized how much he really cared for you and it was the first moment you invited him into your house.
What you didn’t know was that Klaus had planned it like that. He knew he could get you to invite him in to take care of you, you were his sweet little human after all, you needed to be cared for and nursed back to health. That’s what Klaus is here for.
You didn’t see his obsession with you growing the way that everyone else did and no matter how many times you were warned, you just thought your friends were being dramatic. Klaus was the best friend you had had in a really long time and you didn’t want to lose that, and you certainly weren’t going to give it up just because Elena and Caroline were a bit worried.
3 months after you began spending time together was when you finally realized your friends may have been right about how much Klaus had come to care for you.
You had decided to spend time with Elena, Caroline and Bonnie one weekend night, staying in all day, up all night and the next day binging movies and shows you had been putting off thanks to all the Supernatural drama and you had told the Hybrid you would be gone all day and night. You didn’t know that he had checked up on you at the Boarding house at least 6 times since yesterday and that night when you took your stuff and walked your way home, stoned from one too many of Jeremy’s cookies, that he was watching from the trees. The second he noticed you were high he knew that you couldn’t take care of yourself, and he knew that he needed to do it himself.
When you awoke the next morning you were in a much too comfortable bed. It was actually very nice, prompting you too roll over and drift back off to sleep when you rested your head on someone’s chest, startling you. ‘Klaus?! What the hell?!’ You snapped, moving to get up when his arms were suddenly wrapped around you tightly.
‘Calm down love, you’re safe. You were stumbling home, it was dangerous Little Wolf, and your so called “friends” just let you go! I need to keep you safe.’ The look on his face was one of devotion, it was strange to see from your friend.
‘Yeah, we got a little high but I’m okay. You don’t need to worry so much-‘
‘But I do! I do worry Y/n, because I love you and if you haven’t figured that out by now then clearly I’m doing something wrong, I-‘ he sighed heavily. ‘Please? Just relax and go back to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up and we’ll order some breakfast. Just sleep my darling.’ You nodded, doing as he said and trusting him, resting your head back into his chest. He had admitted to loving you and while that was a bit heavy you loved him too and you trusted him…you just didn’t know that he didn’t plan on ever letting you go.
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Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist
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marsbutterfly · 3 months
Note
..cowboy hanji
that’s it
Headcanons: Cowboy! Hanji Zoe
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a/n: BITCH. YOU UNLEASHED A MONSTER.
warnings: nonbinary! hanji zoe, fem! reader, fluff, they do throw up at the end so idk sjfaopfa be aware of that. also, this is lowkey inspired by stardew valley and i didn't beta read, we die like men
/ cowboy! hanji has always been the town's favorite. they are known for their little quirks, such as taking in every stray animal they find in the desert and nursing them back to health, or mixing drinks down at the saloon while no one was looking and daring their friends to drink it. It never ended too well.
/ cowboy! hanji is oblivious to the fact that every girl in town has a crush on them. like, it's pretty bad actually. they keep getting "not so secret" messages from girls they've just met, saying how they are "soooooo smart, and kind, and have the most beautiful smile." they think they are just being nice.
/ cowboy! hanji never believed in love at first sight until you moved into town. you were moving in to take over your grandfather's old farm after spending most of your life traveling around and collecting all the knowledge you needed to make things work.
/ cowboy! hanji didn't know someone new was moving in, so when the mayor introduced the two of you, they immediately turned into a blushing mess, unable to even form a single coherent sentence. but when you giggled at their antics, they knew they were fucked.
/ cowboy! hanji immediately offered to be your tour guide, they were so excited to have someone new to talk to about the different kinds of vegetations and you had more knowledge than anyone they had ever been around. oh, all the information they could learn from someone like you.
/ cowboy! hanji who always stops by your farm with new books regarding the town's history, dishes they learned to cook during their childhood and their designated recipes. they always do their best to come early in the day to help you care for your crops, or take care of your animals, even help you take stuff into town to set up your stall at the market. they don't mind the temperature and seeing how happy it makes you, just makes it all worth it for them.
/ cowboy! hanji has a thick, velvet laced southern accent. it's a little stronger than anyone else's and, at first, you do have some trouble understanding them. but the more time the two of you spend together, talking the night away over a bottle of aged whiskey, the more you understand them. not only the way they talk, but also the way they think.
/ cowboy! hanji who carries around two guns and three knives. if there is one thing about them is that they refuse to be underprepared for any kind of danger, even more so now that you have come into their life and they found something that they want so desperately to protect.
/ cowboy! hanji who never saw themselves falling in love with anyone, but can't seem to get you off their mind for a single second. the simple idea of seeing you later in the day makes their heart race and they clutch their hat every single time.
/ cowboy! hanji who sees you and tips their hat at you. a simple sign of respect that always earns an honest and gentle giggle out of you because the two of you have been close for a few months at this point.
/ cowboy! hanji who can tie any knots and lasso literally anything that moves. the first time one of your cows escaped, you tried your best to get it under control yourself, but your talents involved plants and crops and the mere idea of lassoing anything caused a small wave of panic to wash over you. luckily for you, hanji was right on time for their morning help with the chores and, as soon as they saw the runaway cow, they chased after the animal and lassoed it with such ease that you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. you repaid them with fresh lemonade and a pie.
/ cowboy! hanji who always considered themselves to be straight forward but can never get a single word about their feelings out when it comes to you. their entire face turns bright red and their brain stops functioning the minute they see you smile. it's their biggest weakness.
/ cowboy! hanji who invites you to the town's festival one day, explaining how it's a massive tradition and how everyone would be there. you ask if you should bring something or maybe set up a stall and they shake their head, saying they'll take care of everything and you should just save up the most delicious looking veggies and fruits you've harvested so far.
/ cowboy! hanji who pays a group of teenagers to take care of your stall at the festival so the two of you can have some fun. it's a thoughtful gesture and you insist on paying them back, but they deny it immediately. the two of you go back and forth for a while until they decide that the only way you can repay them is for you to be their arm candy for the night.
/ cowboy! hanji who refuses to let you pay for any food or any of the games around the festival. they get you to try their favorites and the two of you continuously have eating competitions or seeing who is going to win more prizes by the end of the night or who will be the ultimate hero.
/ cowboy! hanji whose eyes immediately glow when they notice the mechanical bull at the town's square. the mischievous glint never fading as they look at you, only to realize you share the same look in your eyes. no words are needed for the two of you to understand each other, running to place your prizes behind your stall and making your way towards the line.
/ cowboy! hanji who gives up so easily when you flash them those big, puppy dog eyes and they agree to go first. they're experienced, more so than most people, so it's not easy to knock them down. as you count, it takes nearly a minute to get them off the back of the fake animal and you set it off as a personal vendetta to beat their record.
/ cowboy! hanji whose lips can't seem to close the longer you stand on the back of the mechanical bull. a minute passes, then thirty more seconds, hell you are nearly at two minutes by the time your arms give up and you allow yourself to fall from the machine. all you can hear are the roars of the town's people celebrating around you.
/ cowboy! hanji whose screams are louder than anyone else's as they celebrate your victory. they scoop you up in their arm, placing your ass on their shoulder as they continue to pump their hand in the air while the other holds you in place. they don't even notice, but they've been chanting the words "that's MY girl!" over and over and over again.
/ cowboy! hanji who finally places you down as the two of you begin to make your way back home, all your items already packed. as you stand at the edge of the festival, a few people still dancing around and eating, you stand in front of them, your eyes glistening under the hanging lights and the moon. with their free hand, hanji brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, their breath trembling slightly as they finally find the courage to ask "can i kiss you?"
/ cowboy! hanji whose cheeks turn bright red and their breathing hitches in their throat as you nod. their lips gently brushing above yours as you melt into their touch. it's a gentle kiss, the roughness of their hands on your waist contrasting directly with the softness of their lips, the taste of the candy apple the two of you shared earlier in the evening still present in their tongue as it wraps around yours. you can't help but hum against their mouth, your hands gently cupping their cheeks as you carefully nibble at their lower lip.
/ cowboy! hanji whose heart has connected with yours the minute they saw you for the first time. their forehead touching yours as the two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a little while, it doesn't last long. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before running off towards the nearest trash cans. the combination between the excitement of the kiss, the mechanical bull ride and all the junk food finally catching up to the two of you.
/ cowboy! hanji who holds your hand as the two of you get sick together in the trash cans behind city hall.
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Note
Awesome that you’re taking price requests cause we definitely need more of those!!! Thank you for your service and writing!!
Request:
You’re drunk and your friends dare you to introduce yourself to captain price at a bar. You actually have a nice conversation end up dating and he shows you off and then he breeds you
Haha idk how that escalated quickly but yasss
A/n: I'm so sorry this took so long to post! I've been facing some writer's block, nothing I've been writing has been sounding good 😫
So I apologize if this doesn't meet your expectations! 🧎‍♀���
---
"Your beard looks amazing, it would look even better wet between my legs."
Maybe playing truth or dare with your best friend while alcohol was running through your veins wasn't such a good idea.
Your body went rigid in shock at the words leaving your mouth.
You didn't even greet the man.
You didn't say hello
You didn't ask for his name before the horny thoughts that were clouding your mind all night escaped at the first chance.
Drunk and horny wasn't a good combination.
"What the hell happened to buying someone dinner first?" Price chuckled before taking another sip of whiskey and glancing at you.
"I Ummm..." your train of thought had stopped as you looked into his amused eyes, and a small grin lingered on his lips. "I'll...eat you out for dinner???" your words slurred out, unsure of what you said sounded right.
"fuck. I meant to take you out for dinner.." you cursed. "Not eat you out." you laughed nervously as you looked at the male who couldn't contain his laughter.
"You're fucking pissed..." Price said with an amused tone. " Can't hold your liquor well can you?"
You shook your head no as a small blush dusted your cheeks.
"Dinner sounds nice but so does option two." Price teased.
"Who says we can't do both? I always have room for dessert" you teased back, liquor courage making a comeback inside of you.
"Big appetite?" Price asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Always" you responded with a small smile on your lips while batting your lashes at the older bearded man. His head tilted slightly to the side as his amused eyes never left your face, the smile on his face making you weak on your knees.
"You look like you bite off more than you can chew, young lady."
A playful pout formed on your lips at his words, "awfully rude thing to assume," You crossed your arms under your chest as you glared playfully at him. "Besides, I've been raised to lick my plate clean."
"A good little girl ain't ya?"
"Only when I want to be rewarded." flashing him an 'innocent' smile.
You see him digging through his pockets before pulling out a black marker, he held out his hand and which you reached over and placed your arm in. His calloused hands gently held your wrist as the cool ink of the marker traveled through your arm. You could smell the mix of whiskey and cigar smoke from being so close to him.
"Call me when you're not trollied," he said with a raspy voice, his eyes looking into your shining eyes.
"Trollied? I'm just a bit tipsy," you whined. You tried to lean closer to him but you underestimated the lack of control you had over your body. Before you knew it your face had planted into his chest. Price held onto your upper arms pushing you up.
"Just tipsy, huh?" he said mockingly.
You sent him the middle finger before you rested the side of your head against the bar countertop. You were looking at him while he looked down at you with a soft smile.
"...Harry?" you asked.
"Harry?" he asked back.
"I'm trying to guess your name...Henry?"
"Nope." he took another big gulp from his drink before giving you a clue. "First letter is J."
"James?"
"..."
"...Jack?"
"Fucking hell, do I look like a Jack to you? " he grunted, his eyes squinting at you.
"I'm trying, jeez...Jonathan?"
"You're getting closer, sweetheart."
You kept chanting the name Jonathan before your eyes widened and you looked at him with disgust.
"John? That's such a boring name," you muttered.
"Like your name is any better." he countered
"Best name that will ever leave your mouth" you argued.
"Is that so?" he asked with an eyebrow raised and a cocky smile on his lips.
"It is so, John," you said with emphasis on his name. "The name's y/n"
"Y/n? Only a muppet would have a name like that."
"Fuck you."
"I know you do sweetheart." he teased. "Too fucking drunk to remember your first words to me sweetheart?”"
"Yeah, but with a mouth like yours, the beard gonna stay dry" you taunted.
"Sounds like a challenge," he said while getting closer to your face, noses nearly touching. "Tomorrow night after dinner?"
"Tomorrow night after dinner." you recited his words in agreement.
---
"You're dating the captain?" Gaz asked, bewildered that such a young fine woman would be dating his captain. The captain that he knew was a gruff, grumpy, and bearded old man. The exact man who had a harsh grip on your waist, fingernails plunging into the fabric of your sundress, and harshly pressing into your skin. His usually warm kind eyes, now cold and ruthless, picturing how he could make both of his sergeants suffer for having their eyes roam your body. You both have noticed how their eyes flicker between your eyes and the deep neckline of your dress exposing your cleavage to the young men.
"Why do you both sound so surprised?" Price asked. Standing right behind you, he leaned down and rested his face between your neck and shoulder. His mouth licked a stride of your skin, maintaining eye contact with his men. You let out a small whine at the feeling of his rough beard pricking at your skin, your body slightly squirming against his. "Don't believe your Captain still has his charm?"
"Stop teasing them." you scolded Price, slightly slapping at his chest and pushing him off of your body. You held out your hand, greeting both men formally and apologizing for your lover's behavior. "Well, I hope to see you both more often."
"Likewise bonnie."
---
What was such an honest and somewhat innocent statement from Soap, was the final breaking point for the Captain. Having to constantly see younger males fawn over your beauty, their undeserving eyes devouring your body sometimes left Price self-conscious. It made him question his worth, but you were always ready on your knees to praise him and remind him how wonderful of a lover he is. At other times, it made him territorial, spewing commands and punishments onto you. You were always eager to comply with his commands, and his jealousy and anger were welcomed with your legs wide open, your wet cunt for his personal use. Your moans and whines were encouragement enough for him to know you were his alone.
But for Price to see his own men practically swooning over his lover awakened primal urges in John that were left dormant for far too long. Urges that had you face down onto the sheets with your ass in the air, juices running down your thighs, and a wet cunt milking the captain of his semen.
Rings of white at the base of his cock as you cummed around his length for the fourth time that night. His promises that he growled into your ear had you throbbing around his cock yet again.
"A cunt full of my seed..." Price mumbled against your neck, his fingers kneading the skin of your stomach. "You know what happens if I fuck my cum into your womb don't you darling?" he asked in a teasing voice.
"..b-baby." you cried out. Your back was now pressed against the mattress, Price mounted on top of you with his cock drilling into your gushing wet cunt.
"That's right, princess. You'll look so pretty with a round tummy." Price hissed. Your nails scratched at his back and your legs locked around his waist. "I'll make you a mommy, fuck a baby right into you."
"yes please, daddy." you sobbed. Your back arched as you felt another toe-curling orgasm creeping. "I want to be a mommy. Make me a mommy."
"Shhh..." John shushed, wiping off the tears rolling down your face. " I'll make you a mommy, no need to cry, sweetie."
Small chants of daddy spewed from your mouth as you felt yourself your love juices gush onto Price, absolutely soaking his pelvic region.
"Make you round with my child, your breasts engorged with milk for the baby," Price continued to thrust into you, his cock throbbing, eager to fill your welcoming cunt with his seed. "But you'll let daddy have a taste of your milk, right? Wouldn't want the baby to grow up greedy like his daddy?"
You let out a loud moan as you felt his hot semen spew inside of you, bursts of cum launching deeper and deeper into your womb, Price's words of making you a mommy increasing in possibility. Your legs freed Price from temporary captivity, allowing him to lean back but not pull out just yet. He wanted to ensure his cum stayed inside, his cock merely a cork for your hole at the moment.
---
For the rest of the week, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost would hear you far more often than see you. Your moans of 'daddy' have nearly become background noises, but at night it only serves as a broken alarm keeping them all awake.
" I blame this shit on you" Gaz spat out, trying his best to ignore your begging moans of 'daddy please' through the walls.
"Steamin Jesus." Soap cursed, running and pulling at his mohawk in frustration. "I only called her bonnie, you were eyeing her tits."
Before Gaz could retaliate, Ghost's ruff voice cut through the room. "We are in this fucking bloody situation because you twits don't know to act around anything with tits and a cunt. "
Both men watched as their lieutenant stood up from the room and stated he was going out for a smoke.
"It's gonna be harder to ignore her tits if the Captain knocks her up."
"She'll be walking around with huge milkers."
---
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kabra-malvada · 14 days
Text
💙❄️Cold Shots❄️💙
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Simon Pretikov x reader (gender neutral) oneshot.
For context: this takes some months after the first season of fionna and cake so Simon is chipper and healing now, still holding onto some habits but hey, baby steps.
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     The sound of the old jukebox seems to drown out in the background like white noise fueling the already overwhelming atmosphere of the candy bar. The floor creaks as people walk on and about, washing over the invisible walls you’ve been putting on all evening. Not that anyone usually even talks to you but today you’re somehow even more apprehensive about it all.
     The same old rhythm, you could be painted in the wall for all the world cares, you don’t even bother speaking up to order another round, just tapping on the counter and waiting for the root beer guy to fill it up to your heart’s contempt. 
     Your usual spot in the far corner is taken as the place is unusually crowded tonight much to your dismay. You’re not tipsy, but you’re not that sober either, the familiar weakness in your legs starting to settle. 
     The world seems to lose color for a moment as your mind wanders off, staring at your glass as if it held all the answers to your problems but refuses to speak to you. Mocking you for the ever growing need of relief to your boiling but quiet mind. Is as if your own thoughts are slowly being ripped from your body only to come back stronger.
- Hello?- A small strained voice pulls you back, as if suddenly you had remembered to breathe.
     The old gentleman before you is rocking quite the scholarly look, very…vintage. He waves his hand as if to make sure you’re actually looking at him. His expression is stoic, a little annoyed if anything. He adjusts his glasses before speaking up again.
- I uh, just wondered if the seat was taken…- He glances around momentarily, making sure that indeed, the seat beside you at the barstool is the only one available.
- Um… yeah, sure. Go ahead.
      He hesitates for a moment but ultimately takes the seat, you didn’t mind that much really but you’d be lying if you were to say getting your train of thought, or absence of, stopped so abruptly miffed you just the slightest bit.
     The man is greeted by the bartender as Simon, seemingly being a regular. At that moment, the situation seems vaguely familiar, although you can’t say for sure since you usually don’t pay much attention to your surroundings while drunk… his name rings a distant bell.
     He orders some whiskey on the rocks… with onions?
     “Odd.” is the only thought that comes to you at his choice of drink. Ah… you’re running dry too, when? Who knows, who cares… not you.
     You tap your glass again and almost immediately the bartender refills it, his muddy rootbeer head swaying a little as he slides by and almost immediately walks away to attend the now full bar. As much as you don’t like crowded places you gotta admit that the place looks… more lively than usual, a sentiment the man beside you seems to share.
- Kinda crowded here huh…?-
- … Yeah. It’s packed… not my kind of thing really.-
     The man, Simon shrugs, not that bothered by the situation apparently. He gives his drink a little swirl, the onions mixing in with the dark drink. Your curiosity gets the better of you as your mind attempts to settle.
- Why onions…? If you don’t mind me asking that is…-
- Well, heh, I like the sweetness of it mixed with the whiskey. Gives it a nice aftertaste.- He smiles a little then takes a swig.
- …Okay…-
     The answer leaves you a little dumbfounded but you decide not to question it. After all it’s not as if your own tastes weren’t a little weird. The two of you settle in a little comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. You don’t space out this time tho, your mind a little busy at the “extravagance” of your companion beside you.
- …Say, what are you having tonight?-
- … I… um…- you sigh, gathering your thoughts momentarily.- Bloodshade Moonshine… it’s from the Nightosphere.-
- Really now? Sounds kinda strong..-
     You chuckle, because indeed. It is very strong. A thought comes to mind, a mischievous little thought. You down the remaining watered down drink then order two raw shots.
- Wanna try?- You smirk not really expecting him to accept but-
- S-Sure. Why not, It’s been a while since I tried something new…-
     You cock an eyebrow, genuinely surprised as he doesn’t appear like the type to drink heavily. This only furthers the interest you’ve been gaining towards him. Just who is this old fart and why is he seemingly so nonchalant about it all? 
- Are you sure? You look awfully confident man…-
- Simon. It’s Simon, and don’t worry about me, I can hold my weight.- He appears a little too confident for his own good, nevertheless your drinks are served.
- Okay, be my guest Simon, bottoms up.- You raise your shot at him, silently daring him to follow along.
     He returns the gesture, determination pouring from his eyes. The two of you down the shots at the same time, in a bold sync of sorts. The familiar cold burn in your throat spreads like wildfire, forcing you to take a silent deep breath so as to not choke.
     Simon on the other hand seems to struggle the most, his face contorting in discomfort but his determination to show you off doesn’t falter in the slightest. He gasps a little, taking a moment to adjust at the deep burn in his throat.
- J-Jesus- He can’t help but coff a little, the intensity of it all more than he expected it to be but his resolve is complete as he regains his composure.
- You good man?- A chuckle escapes you, not in a mocking way, more so amused at his failed stubbornness to seem unaffected.
- Y-Yeah, I-I’m fine… It was a little more than I expected tho.- The sheepishness in his voice is apparent as it cracks slightly.
- It’s good tho right?-
- Y-Yeah, it is, it has a metallic aftertaste, a little sweet too. How you drink this regularly is lost on me tho, you don’t even look tipsy?-
- Hey now, I don’t drink it raw like this every day, I water it down with ice or soda, usually ice tho this thing is sweet as is.- You give him a thin but sincere smile.
     He nods and asks for two rounds of his own preferred drink. He looks… kinda cute when blushed like this… even if he is kinda old and maybe a tad gruff. But cute.
     You can’t help but notice how his glasses seem to fog due to the sudden heat in his face and without thinking too hard into it you reach for a handkerchief you keep in your pant’s pocket.
- Here let me take care of those for you…-
- A-Ah… thanks…- He shyly takes off his glasses and hands them to you, a few of his silver strands getting caught on the hinges as he pulls them from his face.- Oww, hate when his happens.-
     You huff a laugh at the face he makes, finding his little out loud thoughts endearing. His face now more visible to you without his glasses on, the wrinkles in his face defined in an oddly elegant way, however old he is… he’s aged well. Attempting to regain focus you start to clean off the fog, making sure they are good enough for use before handing them back to him.
     He mutters a soft “thanks” then puts them back on, being careful of not getting his hair caught on the hinges of them again.
- Better?-
- Mhmm, better, thank you…- He sighs, the smell of alcohol hitting you all of the sudden.- Okay, your turn now.-
- W-What?-
- I tried your drink so now you try mine. It’s only fair don’t you think?- He offers you the second glass the bartender brought, smirking at you a bit.
- Damn, got me there… onions and all?-
- Yeah, onions and all, unless you’re scared?- Maybe it’s the alcohol speaking but you swear he sounds a bit more smug than before.
- A-Alright, alright. You’re on, old man-
     He scoffs at the small jab, not really offended but more so amused at your antics. You seemed so closed off at the beginning of your interaction that this must be a little jarring to him, or so you assume as he is still pretty much a stranger sharing a drink and small games with you.
- For the record I’m not that old, only a thousand and sixty eight years old.- 
- HUH?- You almost choke in your spit as he states so, finding no glimpses of irony or sarcasm in his tone.
- Long story. But the thousand years don’t really count so only sixty eight.-
- …Of course, this is Ooo we’re talking about… Usually mages look different tho so you can’t really blame me for-
- I’m not a mage, well… not anymore.- His expression sombers a little as he states that, so you opt to not push him.
- I see, well sixty eight it is then, and looking good hehe- You attempt to lighten the mood, and before he can answer you interject again.- Okay, onion whiskey it’s you and me, let’s dance.-
     He chuckles, his face flushed from the alcohol, mayhaps something else too. He raises his own glass to you and grins. You return the gesture and clank the glasses together with a “cheers” from the both of you. Your movements mirror each other’s.
      Just like expected, the taste is very… unconventional to say the least. Not bad, just really different from what you had imagined, bitter but not overwhelmingly so, the taste of the onions adding a surprisingly nice aftertaste to it.
- Oh… that was good actually… you were right heh-
- I always am so you better get used to it alright?- He raises an eyebrow, cheeky as ever.
- I wouldn’t mind getting used to this to be honest, you have good taste- the unspoken proposal now up in the air like the lights hanging from the ceiling.
- …Hmmm, sure, why not? As long as we don’t overdo it, having a drinking buddy sounds nice actually…- His tone is sincere, although he is already slurring his speech a bit.
- Okay, Okay then. Wouldn’t want to take you to the Princess Doctor’s ward due to alcohol poisoning, heh…-
- Oh certainly, I’d never hear the end of it if that happened again- I mean… dammit.-
- Oh? Pray to tell?- The half joke is lost in your tone as you speak.
N-nothing too serious, just… I overestimated myself during my daughter’s engagement party, that’s all.- 
     He blushes furthermore at the last bit, clearly embarrassed at the memory. You on the other hand find it absolutely amusing, now even more excited than ever to get to know him further.
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theirishwolfhound · 1 month
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Headcanons
My thoughts on pretty boy Kyle are actually relatively new. The longer I spend reading and writing about him for my own purposes, the more I absolutely fall in love with this man. As a collective whole here on Tumblr, as far as I’ve seen, we’ve collectively decided that Kyle is the heartthrob of the Task Force.  In this I'll cover the basics that will be prevalent in my own fics, if you wish to use any feel free, they're mostly rambles as is :)
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“Oh come off it, sweetheart.”
Age: I wholeheartedly believe he’s older than Soap, but younger than Ghost, so between 27- 33. Personally I think he would be 29-30. With a bit of research it is said he enlisted in 2008 when he was 16, so I’m more inclined to believe he’s 30. (not me having to fix my own fucking story because I fucked the math up and got their ages wrong like a stupid moron) Sexaulity: Omnisexual, like he’s definitely some sort of queer and it’s hard to place him. Would he love a pretty lady or man? Absolutely, just as much as he would love a more rugged woman or man. -As for his own gender, I don’t think he would really care what pronouns he’s given so he could just be a cisgendered man who’s comfortable with himself or he’s just gender nonconforming. Height & Weight: Definitely 6’/182 cm and weighs roughly 216 lbs, I see him as a toned athletic man for sure.  Personality: Just like in the game, Gaz has to be sassy. We love sassy men who can match vibes. He’s the guy you want to go clubbing with, not only because he’s fun as hell but because he makes you feel safe at the same time. You give him an attitude he returns it with little effort and it either matches the energy you gave or it surpasses it. -He’s very comfortable with himself. Secure with showing both masculine and feminine traits. Give the man a crop top and a skirt he’ll wear them for you. He’ll let you paint his nails, do his makeup, ect.  Birthday: September 26th, 1992 (I'm using 2022)
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Car Or Truck?: It honestly depends. I feel like he could potentially have both given his current vibes. But I would see him with a car, a nice sleek car with leather seats and a bumper sticker that says: “If at first you don’t succeed, call an airstrike.” given to him by Soap. -Specifically thinking of a core model BMW 740i xDrive Sedan, dark charcoal grey in color, glossy coat and dark windows. Cat or Dog?: He has the silliest dog that stays with his parents. I think it is a boxer, or a boxer mix of some sort, that has almost the same personality as Kyle. Boxers are a hyper and goofy breed of dog, and he is very certain that if he knew Soap before he got the dog he would've named it after him. Favorite Food: Vindaloo, specifically lamb Vindaloo. He just seems like the person who would prefer the more savory foods. As well as spicy foods. And if he had to go with something sweet, he’d go for a lemon drizzle cake.  Favorite Drinks: This man drinks fruity cocktails without fear of judgment just as easily as he drinks whiskey, and for non-alcoholic drinks he's a big tea, latte, and ginger ale fan for sure.  Favorite Music: 2000-2010’s music for sure. This man knows Britney Spears’ Toxic like us Americans know the pledge of allegiance.  Song I think Fits their Vibes: Feel The Way I Do- The Jungle Giants Hobbies: Gives off the vibes of a man who taught himself how to play guitar and jewelry making. Makes Soap bracelets and teaches him how to make them as well. More physical activities might be running and swimming. Fears: Oddly enough, not really, falling. It's not a terrible fear, it just gets his heart racing enough that he steers clear of the helicopter doors until they land. 
“Why don’t we go this way? Y’know, away from the edge, yeah?”
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Familial Relationships: Has a relatively good relationship with his mom and dad, they probably live somewhere closeish to his flat in London. They would have a key to take care of the plants on the inside for sure. Has an older sister and a younger brother. They’re all fairly close and he’ll visit them on his leaves if he has the chance, otherwise they all have a group chat to check in with one another.  Relationships with the team: I definitely think this varies based on what sort of relationship you’re seeking to read/write about. I try to always write polyamory, as a poly-person I like having the representations.  Price: Coming from someone who loves PriceGaz, they are either the best mentor and trainee coupling or the most judgemental couple. They can read each other relatively well and work together rather well. (Though they equally get on each other's nerves.) Soap: Definitely best friends if they’re not dating, they get up to the most interesting shenanigans. They’d go clubbing in matching outfits and are annoyingly catty together.  Ghost: As lovers and friends, they’re totally the ones that would seek quiet comfort from one another. They have secret tea time and share snacks. Totally make fun of Soap's hair if it's in need of a shave.  Love Language: Physical Touch and Gift Receiving/Giving. He'll do a skin care routine with you, massages, and he'll make sure to buy the stuff for it to give to you or you to him if you get him something. He knows what makeup you wear or what size to buy your clothes in to surprise you. 
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Civilian or Military Lover: Prefers civilian lovers over other soldiers, but like he’d date other soldiers given they’re the right person.  What would their civilian job be?: I see Kyle being a Paramedic, like he’d be the one I’d ask for if I fell in the shower because he’s not gonna make fun of me and he’s hot. How’s their charisma: Rizz Master, man. I'm convinced he's got a smolder that'll knock the clothes off of anyone lucky. Voice is smooth like honey and sweet to boot, he's an interrogation expert— he's gotta have a way with words. What would your first date be? Hard to say. I think he'd take you out to a coffee/tea house or you'd go get Ramen. But in reality I know it would be put up to a mutual agreement. He’d totally pay the bill and makes sure you never even get to see the slip. What would they call you? “Baby” is definitely one of the top ones, but I think the next contenders are as followed: “Sweetheart” and “Pretty/Handsome”
“Gonna make me feel pretty, baby?”
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Size: Gonna have to say he's not the biggest or longest but I agree with the post that said he's the prettiest of the four cocks. A neat 6.5 in, circumcised, hits the right spots and he knows how to use it well.  Kinks: Bondage, Exhibitionism, and Sensation Play Position?: Pretty boy Kyle is a complete switch, though has a more dominant leaning personality. He’ll let you top, but he's gonna boss you around while you do it.  Sharing?? Kyle loves to share. He is inclined to share with his team, after all those are his best friends and his brothers-in-arms, they saved his life many times— just a little peek won’t hurt. Song that fits his vibe in the bedroom:  Swim - CHASE ATLANTIC
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columbiastapshoes · 30 days
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drunken confession trucoop anyone ?!
hi i know this used to be a rocky horror blog but these gay little detectives will not leave my brain so. have a thing <3 if ppl like this i can write more and make them kiss maybe but this is all i have for now! this is spoiler free (implied spoilers but if you don't know them already nothing will be revealed i assure you), a whole lot of mutual pining, some sexual innuendos but no sexual content, and they do not kiss im sorry :( also shoutout to my irl friend for telling me how to describe our idea of harry's room and giving me some prompts for the actual confession tee hee
Cooper could smell the whiskey in Harry’s breath as they walked back to his cabin. Their night at the bar was not intended to go this long, but Harry had insisted on ‘one more drink’ again and again, and he was looking up at Cooper like he was the whole world… Cooper couldn’t resist anything from him. After Cooper became too concerned to give into Harry’s drunken pleading, he had taken him back home, and now Harry’s arm was slung around his shoulder as he somehow managed to trip up each and every stair. Cooper lifted him up ever-so-slightly for the last step, so Harry wouldn’t risk spraining an ankle anymore.
“Do you have your keys?” He asked, lifting Harry’s sinking chin up so he could look at him. Harry just smiled up at him, his brown eyes shining with an almost orange glow in the moonlight. He nodded slowly. 
“In my back pocket,” he said, “you should get ‘em for me.” His smile widened into a grin, and Cooper couldn’t help but smile a bit himself, shaking his head as his face started to feel a bit warm.
“Very amusing, Harry. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of opening your own door. I doubt you still need to lean on me, now that we’re not walking.” If he was being perfectly honest, the feeling of Harry’s weight on him was making his stomach twist itself into knots, but this was probably the worst possible time to let those feelings get in the way of helping a friend to bed. Harry sighed, reluctantly moving his arm off of Cooper’s shoulders to reach into his pocket for his keys. As soon as they weren’t touching anymore, Cooper began to realize just how cold the night air had become. He shivered as Harry attempted to unlock his door, but couldn’t seem to maintain a grip on the key. Cooper walked up to him, gently taking Harry’s hand and guiding it to turn the key in the slot. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, but he refused to look back at him– not now. Not tonight. Not when he knew everything Harry was saying and doing was just a result of alcohol, and he would come to Cooper apologizing for everything in the morning, and Cooper would tell him it’s quite alright when in reality it was more than quite alright and he would take care of Harry through any situation in the whole world–
“Coop? I opened it. See? You can come in.”  Cooper shook himself. The alcohol seemed to be kicking in for him, too. He nodded.
“Yes, good job. Mind the-” Harry stumbled over the short ledge separating the house from the porch- “...bump.” Harry laughed– one of Cooper’s favorite noises in the world– and pulled him into the living room by the wrist. Trying to keep his composure, Cooper nodded. “Alright. Where’s your bedroom?” 
Harry’s eyes widened. “Coop…” he murmured, his words mixing together, “right now? Didn’t take you as that kinda guy, but hey, I ain’t-”
“I’m putting you to bed, Harry. I don’t think there’s much that will save you from a raging headache in the morning, but at least you’ll be able to sleep for longer now.”
“Stuff like this that makes me ’member why I like you, Coop. You’re real nice. Thinkin’ all the way into tomorrow morning for me… that’s a lot.” He grinned, and Cooper found himself smiling as well. 
“Yes, well, I just want to make sure you’re able to look at at least one file at work tomorrow. Unfortunately, this case can’t be paused so you can sleep a hangover off.” Harry nodded, but Cooper could tell he wasn’t entirely following what he was saying. Without a word, Harry took Cooper’s hand (something that sent a string of energy down Cooper’s whole arm– static shock, maybe?) and led him into his bedroom.
Harry reached over and turned on the ceiling lamp, illuminating exactly what Cooper had pictured his room to look like for months now. A large wooden bed took up most of the space, with a large amount of blankets piled onto it with a wool flannel comforter on the very top. There were two wooden nightstands on either side, and Cooper’s heart sank as he saw a framed picture of Josie on the nightstand that Harry seemed to use. He felt a pang of guilt settle into his stomach. Who was he to long for Harry like this when Harry clearly had his whole attention elsewhere? He forced himself to look away from Josie’s face to notice the ornate lampshade next to it, shades of various colors swirling around each other and dangling down in golden tassels. Below it sat an antler knife, seemingly hand-carved, and a book Cooper couldn’t fully make out in the dim orange lighting. He’d have to ask Harry about it sometime. Next to the bed, his closet door hung open, a small walk-in with a single lightbulb hanging rather precariously from the ceiling. Against the other wall was a large leather chair, although the leather was so worn down that it was practically falling off the cushions. The jackets and clothes strewn across it made up for the decay, though– it felt more well loved than abandoned. Harry stepped into the room, tripping over his feet a bit as he walked across a dark patterned carpet, one that Cooper found absolutely beautiful, but he decided to tell Harry that later.
“I’m assuming you have more comfortable clothes to wear to bed? I wouldn’t want you sleeping in what you have on now,” Cooper said softly as Harry sat on the bed, staring at a spot on the floor. He nodded, looking back up at Cooper with that big smile again. 
“Yeah… hey, might need help changing int-”
“Harry.”
“Sorry. I got it.” Cooper smiled, shaking his head again as he stepped back out of the room, closing the door behind him. He sighed, leaning against the adjacent wooden wall and closing his eyes for a moment. Harry’s room was so… Harry. Like his mind had spilled out across the walls and created the warm, comforting, loving atmosphere he had always felt whenever they talked. It was beautiful, and it was nice, and that small, irritating part of Cooper’s brain was beside itself imagining sleeping in that bed with him, kissing him goodnight, waking up there with Harry’s mouth pressed against his bare shoulder… he wished that part of his mind had an off switch. He heard the soft noises of Harry moving around in his room, taking off clothes, putting on other clothes, yawning, those little human noises that made Cooper want to stay by his side forever even more. After a moment of listening, the door opened again, and Harry stood behind it, looking at Cooper with now half-closed eyes.  He had changed into a dark red wool sweater with a knit design of a golden buck on the center, dark plaid pants, and fuzzy golden socks. Cooper felt a rush of warmth run through his body. He had only ever seen Harry in his work clothes, maybe a different shirt if he was lucky, never something as informal as this. He looked as beautiful as ever, maybe even more beautiful. But Cooper refused to linger on those thoughts for too long. He nodded politely, walking back into Harry’s room.
“Looks comfortable,” he said as Harry yawned and sank back down onto the bed.
“Yeah… makin’ me sleepy,” he mumbled, and Cooper couldn’t help but laugh a bit at  Harry’s change in vocabulary. 
“Quite convenient, Harry, as I suggest you get some rest. It’ll be a rough morning tomorrow.” Without really thinking, Cooper walked over and folded over a corner of the sheets, causing Harry to smile and move there. Cooper put the blankets back over Harry and kneeled down next to him, feeling like he might pass out at any moment. 
“Y’know,” Harry said softly, gazing at Cooper with an expression he couldn’t quite place, “you should come in here at night more. The light makes you look real gorgeous.” He sighed. “You always look gorgeous, though.” Cooper’s face felt very hot all of a sudden, and he cleared his throat, attempting to calm down his racing heart.
“Thank you, Harry. I would love to spend more time with you at a later day. For now, though, you need to sleep.” There was a pause as Harry moved his blankets even further up, covering his chest so just his face was visible. Cooper always seemed to know what was going on inside Harry’s head, but at the moment he just couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. He took a deep breath in, and with a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke.
“I wish we could be together.” Cooper frowned, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t mean it the way Cooper wished he did, right? No. It was something else. Something he didn’t know the meaning of.
“What do you mean?” He asked. Harry sighed again, moving a bit closer to Cooper so their faces were a lot closer together than they usually were. Cooper could practically taste the whiskey on his breath now.
“Dunno. I guess I just… like you, Coop. Like you a lot. Always have. Always wanted to kiss you, too.” He laughed at Cooper’s widened eyes. “Yeah. Really wanna kiss you all the time. You’re so… good. You’re good, and nice, and smart, and fucking beautiful. Sickeningly beautiful. Hurts to look at you sometimes.” 
“Harry,” Cooper whispered, not knowing what else to add. His entire body was shivering slightly, but at the same time he felt incredibly warm. He didn’t know if he was supposed to just tell the truth and say that he felt the exact same way, or if he was supposed to laugh it off. He settled on something in-between the two. “You’re- not going to be very happy with yourself when you remember telling me this tomorrow.”
Harry shook his head, his hair rustling against his pillow. “Yeah, I know, but it’s the truth. I want to love you, Coop, and I want you to love me. But we can’t. Can’t love each other the way we want to.”
“Why not?” Cooper found himself asking before he had time to assess the situation. His body tensed. That was not a good move. Harry was drunk, and if he remembered Cooper responding like that to his clearly fictional rambling in the morning… it was over. Harry smiled gently, slipping a hand out from under the blanket and moving a piece of Cooper’s hair out of his face, something that made Cooper shiver once more. 
“Nothing. Sorry.” He turned over, facing away from Cooper and adjusting the blankets. Before he fell completely silent, though, he hit Cooper with possibly the worst thing he had said all night. “Just wish you were a girl sometimes. Night, Coop. Thanks for everything.” And with that, he stopped talking, leaving Cooper to sit there like a deer in headlights, wondering where to go from here.
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cryoculus · 1 year
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— lotus eater ⟢
you’ve been by ayato’s side 5 out of the 26 years he’s been blessed with today and you intend to stay until the very last one.
★ FEATURING; kamisato ayato x gn!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 1.7k words
★ TAGS; established relationship, alcohol, drunken kissing, so much flirting, hc: ayato is a clingy drunk
★ NOTES; aka a super belated happy birthday fic to one of my favorite characters in the game! ily ayato you'll always have a special spot in my heart
★ HEADER ART CR; donaldakron on twt
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“You bought what?”
Being the closest associate to one Kamisato Ayato means you were intimately familiar with the Commissioner’s habits. One such habit is purchasing exotic drinks from anyone and everyone who had them for sale in Ritou Harbor. Drinks that he’ll undoubtedly try to mix with something else, resulting into a concoction of liquid diarrhea. 
Today—his twenty-sixth birthday—is no different. 
“Snezhnayan firewater,” Ayato says simply, setting the expensive bottle atop the low table. “I sampled some during one of Father’s trips to the northern continent. That was when I’ve yet to appreciate the bite of alcohol, though.”
You stare at him, unimpressed. “So you were still a minor.”
“Hmm, more or less.”
For the head of the Kamisato clan, birthdays aren’t all that special. No parties are held; no special programs to commemorate the occasion. You even organized his schedule just like you do on normal days, as per his request.
Though his family and retainers want nothing more than to shower Ayato with the appreciation he deserves, the Commissioner has always been content with a quiet birthday dinner in the company of his loved ones.
…And a private drinking session with you inside his office.
You know you shouldn’t feel as flustered as you are. Everyone is well-aware that Kamisato Ayato cherishes his beloved secretary in more ways than one. But even if your relationship with him is common knowledge, you still can’t help but feel self-conscious about the time you spend with him.
“Once in Fontaine, the delegation served us a very peculiar cocktail,” Ayato says as he pours you a glass. “They called it the Paradiso—a little minty, a little fruity. But what made it stand out to me is the edible lotus floating on top of the drink.”
You hum, reaching for your glass as you take a small sip that has you cringing in distaste. Gods, that was strong.
“Isn’t that just a ploy to get in your good graces?” you ask dryly, remembering the Kamisato clan’s crest. “They really couldn’t have been more obvious.”
“That might be true, but if I’m given a nice drink for free, who am I to refuse?” Ayato chuckles softly, halving his glass of whiskey with a face as smooth as butter. He didn’t even flinch. “Plus, there’s actually a meaning behind the cocktail’s namesake.”
“Pray tell?”
“Have you ever heard of the Land of the Lotus Eaters?” he asks. You shake your head. “Well, to make it short, when one finds himself in that place and ingests the flowers floating in the river, he’ll never want to leave. Suddenly, the Land of the Lotus Eaters is equivalent to paradise.”
Now that’s news to you. “Was that Fontaine’s subtle way of telling you they didn’t want you to go back to Inazuma or…?”
Ayato laughs again. “You are as bright as you are lovely. In the end, those are nothing but legends told to pass the time. Though my secretary before you did discourage me from eating the lotus in my drink.”
“She made a good call then. We wouldn’t want one of Inazuma’s most-desirable bachelors to leave us for a damn cocktail,” you joke.
He nods, reaching for your hand as he twines your fingers together. “Yes, and my old secretary couldn’t have tendered her resignation, and I wouldn’t have met you.”
It takes you a moment to process Ayato’s subtle attempt at flirting, but when you do, you’re suddenly conscious of everything else. How his gloved fingers feel against your skin. How he presses his warm body against yours behind the table.
Your lover knows the degree of skinship that’s socially acceptable to any given situation. But there’s something more intimate in these little gestures as opposed to his usual acts of grandeur. Kamisato Ayato is a man who isn’t afraid to flaunt you around if the occasion allows it. With how his hands are always tied with administrative work, it kind of makes sense why he’d return to your side a bit more touch-starved than expected.
Still…you’re lucky enough to be the object of his affections, yet you’re losing your cool because he’s holding your hand?
It’s got to be the alcohol.
You spend the rest of the night sharing his newest bottle of imported whiskey, telling each other stories you’ve already told countless times. Because neither you nor Ayato could get enough of the other. For the longest time, you’ve wanted to invite either Thoma or Ayaka to these drinking sessions on the nights of his birthday, but a selfish part of you wants to keep him for yourself.
After all, no one can really handle an intoxicated Yashiro Commissioner as well as you do.
“Do you think Thoma would agree to test out a firewater boba drink for me?” Ayato wonders, voice sounding completely sober yet the warm tinge of his cheeks betrays him. “He definitely would, right?”
“Yeah because you’re going to bully him into doing it.” You shake your head, plucking the glass from his fingers despite being a bit buzzed yourself. “Cut that out. You know Thoma can’t say no to you.”
He whines. “And that’s exactly what makes him the perfect test subject!”
“How about this: if you promise to stop manipulating the poor guy into consuming your weird beverages, I’ll give you a kiss.”
Normally, a wager like that would have weak-looking stakes to anyone else who hears. Lovers kiss all the time, right? But to Ayato, his lilac eyes immediately snap wide—making him brace his palms on your shoulders as he forcibly meets your gaze.
“You really mean that?”
“Yup,” you reply. “I’ll kiss you right here, right now if you promise.”
You feel like it’s such an indubitable privilege to get to see him like this—the prince-like head of the Kamisato clan, nearly pouting as you hung the prize of your affection over his head. Well, he always does the same thing to Thoma when you aren’t looking so you suppose this is a taste of his own medicine.
Of course, Ayato never falls short in flustering you despite assuming the role of the one in charge. He quietly shrugs off his jacket, folding it neatly on the floor in spite of himself. Then, he takes your hand before pressing his soft lips against your skin.
“I promise not to bully our favorite housekeeper, Thoma in the meantime.” He grins, pale bangs framing the mischievous glint in his eyes. You know better than to trust this crafty man’s words, but…
You twist your fingers around a little until your hands are intertwined again. Ayato startles at your forwardness, but you don’t give him any leeway to tease as you lean closer to press your mouth on top of his own.
You’ve been Ayato’s secretary for five years, but his lover much less than that. Despite the fact that you know him better than anyone else—even his own sister—you still don’t know how to kiss him properly. You’re always so hesitant and awkward and all over the place, but Ayato never seems to mind.
It doesn’t help that you’re bolder than usual, with all that pent up liquid courage. When your lover eases you into a pace that’s more comfortable for the both of you, you shyly card your fingers through his hair. A soft groan reverberates in the back of his throat, and the sound surprises you a bit—making you pull away.
“S-Sorry,” you tell him sheepishly. “I’m still not very used to—” 
Ayato pulls you in before you can even finish the sentence, smashing his lips against yours with more fervor than usual. You gasp into the kiss, unintentionally giving him all the leeway he needs.
It shouldn’t feel so good when his tongue licks into your mouth; when he presses a gloved hand against the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Because even if Ayato can be quite underhanded, he never once tried to go beyond the boundaries you’ve set. But despite these sensations being very new to you…
They aren’t unwelcome.
When Ayato pulls away, his face is sweat-stricken, and lips a swollen red. From the tingling feeling prickling yours, you figure you’re in no better shape than he is.
“Why don’t you try kissing me like you mean it?” Ayato smiles, cheeks flushed. “You aren’t the Yashiro Commissioner’s perfect secretary for nothing, are you?”
A soft laugh bubbles in your throat. “Are you going to give me a raise if I do?”
“Maybe.”
Thankfully, that’s as far as his craftiness goes. Even if the both of you nearly stumble from being so inebriated, you manage to clean up with Ayato’s help. His office doubles as his bedroom during busier times of the year, and you can’t bring yourself to decline once he invites you under his spare futon.
“Ayaka’s going to tease me non-stop for this tomorrow,” you sigh, leaning your head against Ayato’s chest. “We better wake up earlier than she does.”
“My secretary is so responsible—already planning tomorrow’s agenda, are we?”
You kick him in the shin. Ayato simply laughs.
“…Hey, can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“I think I want to taste that drink you were talking about—the Paradiso,” you admit. “But as far as our plans for the next six months go, you don’t really have any dealings with Fontaine.”
Your lover gives your words a contemplative hum. “I wonder…why feel the need to drink that when you’ve already eaten my lotus a few years ago?”
.
.
.
“I’m leaving—”
“Heeeey, don’t be like that!” Ayato complains, arms circling your waist as you struggle to shrug him off. “It’s a figure of speech! When you got a taste of my company, you never left. You’re even sharing my bed now! Don’t you think that being by my side is as good as paradise?”
You scoff, face burning with embarrassment. “Aren’t you aware of how much I’ve been cleaning after your messes over the last five years?”
“I am, and they’re a testament to just how much you adore me,” he says cheekily. “Won’t you come back to bed now? Please?”
…Gods damn it. He knows you can’t refuse him like this.
“Happy birthday,” you grumble, easing yourself underneath the covers. “I hope you get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”
“So harsh~” he teases, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too.”
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★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★
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© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.
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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 1 year
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Oops I wrote a whole chapter. Just to see if it works but I hope it does because I actually like it. I know ABO isn't for everyone and if so I'm sorry. To those who do like it, please enjoy.
Gunpowder and Watermelon
Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)
Omegaverse AU
Warnings: ABO characteristics obviously, knots, slick, vaguely confusing reproductive organs, mpreg, dickish Col, drug use, drinking, sex mentioned but not shown yet 🖤 Rating: let's go ahead and say explicit
The club was crowded as hell, packed full like fish in a barrel and for Colson it really was that. Getting a bitch was as easy as shooting them at least, though the saying was a little too southern for his taste. He could feel too many eyes on him and the stink of fake pheromones was cloying. Even through that and the thick weed and cigarette smoke when a new scent hit the room his nostrils flared. Too many betas were faking their presentation with knock off perfume and pills and he'd assumed he'd have to just take one of them home but something new was there. Something… something real.
The alpha had never felt his cock get so hard so fast and one of his buddies started laughing. "Kells what the hell man? You good?" He couldn't tell if he actually shook his head or just meant to but he couldn't focus. He could barely even see straight anymore.
It felt like a movie scene as the crowd parted to reveal the real omega in the room, they were so rare of course everyone was scared off. Betas were warned just from the scent because if an alpha caught them together they could end up ripped to shreds. Not that the world was so barbarian anymore. Not really.
He was surprised to see a boy, but that was a stretch honestly. He was clad in a little black skirt and a ripped crop top, thigh high pink socks and black boots. His hair was a wild mess, sticking up everywhere, and that face. That fucking face.
Even though he was up in the VIP section it didn't take him but a moment to vault over the railing to the ground below. If he was showing off a bit for the first omega he'd met in years that was his business. And completely normal. "Hey. You here with anyone or are those DSL's free baby? I don't see a mark on that pretty neck." He purred, cupping the boy's chin to tilt his head side to side. Just to make sure. He barely held himself back from truly scenting him but that was better for shadows or bathrooms or darkened booths. Later.
"Fucking 'ell. I knew American alphas were bastards but you fink tha' shit works?" Oh. He was British. Hot. "Who knew the Machine Gun 'ad such bloody weak game." He huffed, pushing away and Col almost whined. No one dared talk to him like that and he didn't have to try, bitches fell at his feet.
"Fuck fine." He growled, hovering closer. "How about you let me slip n slide in that slick pussy and we'll see how hard I can make you squirt. Better?"
The kid swallowed hard, of course he felt a draw to the bastard in front of him but how could he not? He was a player though and an alpha. Dom didn't get mixed up in that shit. Maybe just one night wouldn't hurt? He'd been feeling a little extra needy and if anyone could scratch his itch… They both cracked smiles, laughing at each other and the punk pushed the taller man playfully. "Ya can't pick someone up to save ya life bruv. Wiv'out ya fame you ain't got it. Sorry luv. Nice to finally meet you in person." He offered his hand but the giant pulled him in for a hug. He hadn't been sure about meeting in public, he could feel the way everyone stared and avoided him but he knew it was safer. He was unmated and Kells was… well… fucking gorgeous and of course he smelled incredible too, even his BO was hot. Under the obvious weed and whiskey was him- gunpowder and leather and something that just screamed sex but underneath it all was something comforting. Almost sweet.
Colson held the smaller man tight, burying his face in that wild hair. They'd met through Instagram, he loved what the kid could do musically and he'd flown him here for a collaboration. He knew what he was but he didn't know it would be this hard to be near him. He smelled like watermelon candy and fresh linen, something free like a summer's day and Col had to force himself back but he couldn't seem to stop touching him. "You really scare people off huh Dom?" He teased, wrapping his arm around those broad shoulders to lead him back to their booth. He could feel the kid looking down, his gaze was as weighted as if he were actually touching his knot. It got worse though when that scent got stronger, the punk was wet. The omega was wet because they were touching and didn't that just prove the alpha right? He wanted them to be friends and work together but… that didn't mean they couldn't fuck right? At least once? Just to get it out of his system. That was all.
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-A few months later -
Colson was scrolling Instagram again, a joint between his lips and a beer in his free hand. He was trying to act like he wasn't on for anything specific but of course he was, even though he was the only one there to judge himself. He took a deep drag and held it which was one of the biggest mistakes of his life because the next reel that flashed across his screen had him choking. His phone got thrown across the room and he cursed at his own stupidity, rushing to pick out up. A sigh of relief escaped when he saw it wasn't cracked but that fucking video was still playing on a loop. His ass hit his chair hard again, his knees a little weak. All he could do was stare.
Dom hadn't posted in a few weeks and this wasn't even from him. When the punk went home he didn't want to be over the top and treat him too much like an owned omega so instead of bombarding him with worried and wondering texts he just followed everyone the kid hung out with. Tom seemed to be the one to watch and damn was he right. Col had been confused why his buddy started posting so little of himself but now it was obvious. There was only a shot with Dom but it was enough and he screen grabbed a still of him, zooming in and studying the picture harder than any test he'd taken in his life. Test… shit. Had the boy taken one? The photographer had caught him off guard and giggling, doing his eyeliner shirtless at a mirror but his body was in view and Kells knew he could see a bump. Was… was it his?
The club was crowded and they were both so drunk. Somehow Dom had moved from sitting across from him to sitting next to him and now he was halfway in his lap. All they could smell was each other and there was something special about the boy the alpha had never scented before. It made him ache in a way he wasn't used to. "Wanna get out of here?" He asked, his voice as strained as his cock. He really might pop a knot in front of all these people and he didn't want his dick all over TMZ tomorrow. He definitely didn't want Dom splashed across the papers. The omega was his. His friend. Fuck.
"You know I ain't staying 'ere long bruv. We 'ook up and it's for the night. I ain't looking for no fairy tale shit. Jus' wanna get me 'ole plugged." The boy shrugged, being as honest as he could. Of course he was desperate for the alpha- half the people there were if not more but he wouldn't promise something he didn't believe in. True Mates didn't exist and a mated pair could be absolutely terrible to each other. He didn't need an alpha, just a good knot for a night and maybe a friend.
"Shit, you're my dream girl huh? Just steal the words I'd be saying in the morning." He teased back, the alpha didn't believe in love. He'd never been shown it growing up. He was good for a night or a few but he didn't stick around. "Friends who fuck?" He offered with a Cheshire grin, his palm up in the barely there space between their chests.
One of Dom's brows arched and he curled his lips around the rapper's thumb. He could feel the alpha's dick react, a hard pulse under his ass and he grinned wide. "Bruvs wiv benefits." He slurred, nipping the tip playfully before he crawled out of the booth.
Col groaned when a fresh wave of that slick scent hit him and he realized his lap was absolutely drenched. He ran his spit wet thumb over a sticky smear, pulling it to his lips to taste. He felt his blue eyes flash crimson but he attempted to shake it off. He didn't need to go feral. He wasn't in rut. Fuck. When his gaze met that sweet little bitch's he sighed happily and let himself be yanked to stand. One night sounded perfect. Honestly he was in love- with the idea of course.
Colson came out of his memory when the joint ashed on his lap and he cursed. Looking back at the picture. His thumb moved fast as he pressed like and commented a few of the same emoji, the thoughtful questioning little dude. Really all of his questions were answered when it only took Tom a few seconds to hit him back and his heart flipped when he saw just one word. 'Finally.'
He hadn't slipped into anyone's DMs so fast since he first saw Dom but he tried to keep it casual. He couldn't believe the guy had so obviously snuck a frame of the omega in just to get his attention but he'd thank him for it.
C: Hey man. Nice to meet you. Thanks for that but wtf??!!
T: Not my bloody circus and certainly not my monkey. I just groom it and take pics. Text. Him.
C: I have been. He never mentioned this shit.
T: Shit huh?
C: Fuck
T: Eloquent. It's not my problem but I was tired of him moping.
C: It's been a while are you sure… ya know 🤰🏻👀?
T: Are you asking if he's knocked up or if you're the only one knocking?
C: 😅 Not calling him a slut obvi. Fun is fun and he's a free omega
His phone rang and he dropped it again, he was far too shaky for this shit. "What?" He growled down the receiver assuming it was some telemarketer but the voice that came across was British. His pulse sped until he realized it wasn't his omega. The omega. Damn it. He had to stop that.
"Nice to meet you too. God, no wonder he hasn't told you. Such a nice alpha." Col could hear the eye roll the guy was giving him. He wasn't trying to make a bad impression; he'd just been moody for weeks. He couldn't help it. "This isn't my conversation to have knothead but no, he doesn't sleep with alphas."
"You mean he hasn't slept with any for a while?" His voice dropped, his throat felt suddenly achingly tight and his stomach felt sick. He didn't know what was happening but it sure seemed like a panic attack.
"Dumbarse. You're his first and only alpha. He sleeps with betas but not… like that. You can imagine my surprise when he comes home reeking of alpha and it won't go away! And now… we know why." He sighed down the phone, obviously worried for his friend. Colson couldn't help wondering if there was a crush there or just deep brotherly love.
He felt his stomach drop out of him, his heart racing a mile a minute. His hands were shaking and he thought he might pass out in a puddle of his own vomit soon but he tried to push through it. He was supposed to be talking. He could talk. "What am I supposed to do?" No, he could whine it seemed.
"Fuck you both. I'm so tired of this. Oh no, the grown ass man with probable millions and access to private jets doesn't know what to do after impregnating his friend from across the pond?" Wow Kells didn't think he'd been so talked down to in… years really. Maybe he and this beta could be buds. Eventually.
"Point taken. Damn you a salty bitch. Glad Dom's got you looking out." He huffed back, sighing and rubbing his temple. "It's still a big deal. I… he's got my kid?" He stuttered out, the nerves in his stomach almost resembling… excitement?
Tom grumbled something he couldn't make out but after a moment his voice softened. "Congratulations daddy. Now come get our boy. He needs more than I can give him."
Colson nodded before realizing it couldn't be seen. "Yeah." He rasped, clearing his throat and chugging the rest of his beer. "Yeah I'll… I'll come. Thanks Tommy."
"That's not… ugh. You really couldn't tell he was in heat?" The question was so out of left field he had to pull his phone away to stare at incredulously but the picture of Dom was still there and he just ended up whimpering.
"God you're so fucking wet." Kells growled, tossing the boy on his bed and dropping between his spread legs. His palms pressed rough to get them wider and the omega whined, bearing down. Colson normally wasn't so quick to scent anyone but he buried his face between those juicy thicc thighs and worried his face against those slick drenched briefs. The smell was incredible there and his cock was harder than it'd ever been. He could already feel his knot trying to pop and that had never happened before.
"Need you. Alpha please? Fuck me?" The kid begged, sitting up to paw off his own shirt. Kells didn't need to be asked twice, especially not when he was so inebriated and his dick was throbbing like it was. His teeth gripped the middle of those boxers and he tore, desperate to get inside the punk as soon as possible.
"Nah I um… never been around a heat. I thought he just had a really juicy pu-"
"Shut up. Shut up! I am not… I don't want to hear it please? I've listened to how perfect your knot is enough already. Heard enough about Dom's sex life for a lifetime. Just come see him, yeah? You can figure it out from there."
Colson sighed, agreeing and talking for a few more minutes before he hung up the phone and just stared at the picture. It wasn't the first time he'd lost time looking at the omega but this felt different. He wasn't just looking at the man anymore he was seeing so much more. It wasn't just a photo of the bitch he had the hots for… it was a picture of his family. He really didn't know how to deal with that but he hoped he figured something out between his home and Dom's. He'd have plenty of time on the plane at least. They'd just made one agreement, neither planned to tell the omega until he was in their flat. He didn't need time to try and run away. Kells always thought he had the biggest problem with commitment but it sounded like he met his match. That didn't matter, they could figure out their shit as they went but he wasn't flying over so fast for the crush. No, he refused to be a deadbeat dad. Dom could keep his perfect cunt to himself if he had to, though Colson hoped he wouldn't, it was the pup he was going for.
…Maybe a little bit his omega… just… a little… Fuck.
Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 don't know who all wants tagged on this one so let me know! Hope this is a good start. Let me know what you think please. This will be less about the requests probably because there's more of a story. The italic paragraphs are flashbacks, for now that's how the sex scenes will happen. I'll still take feedback and and if you want to suggest things I'll take it under advisement 🖤 I'm not quitting any of them they may just take turns. But please enjoy!
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devox2564 · 10 months
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In Your Heart
Hi guys! This will eventually be a NSFW fic, but for now I'm enjoying the slow burn. If you enjoy this let me know. I'm looking forward to releasing more Chapters.
Jake Kizka x fem reader
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Chapter One: Late Nights on Broadway
It's a Thursday night in Nashville, and your gig has just started. Tootsie's is already packed with patrons. The smell of liquor mixed with sweat from the summer heat permeates the air in the crowded space. The Orchid Lounge is aglow and the familiarity of your home stage is comforting.
The song ends with a flourish and you take a sip from your drink before strumming the intro to the next. Playing the guitar is as effortless as breathing. Your fingers are calloused and nimble. Running through the different chords almost mindlessly. Looking out into the crowd, you see the usual riff raff. Nashville has always been an interesting place to make a living. Couples dance drunkenly, attached by the tongues. Lonely souls border the dance floor, looking for a mate.
Tabitha, another regular performer here, wailed away at the microphone. Her voice was one of the best in town. You always look forward to nights like tonight when the music is flowing easy.
A few songs later, Tabby announces a brief intermission and the DJ comes on to entertain the crowd for a bit. You place your guitar on its stand and head to the second floor for another drink. Your next set is another hour long and you aren't quite loosened up enough. The
bartender here knows your order and has a vodka soda waiting for you when you exit the staircase. You thank him and take a seat at the bar to sip your drink. This floor is quieter than the others, and it's the perfect place to people watch.
As you do, you see a group of people emerge from the stairwell. You recognize a few faces up here already, and the newcomers are no exception. The Kizka twins cross the room and take a seat at the end of the bar. Josh waves to you. Vacating your seat, you cross the bar and settle in next to the pair.
"What are you two doing here on a Thursday night? I thought you were long past bar gigs." You nudge Josh's shoulder.
"Just out for a drink, a little birdie told me our old friend (y/n) was performing tonight so we thought we'd pay you a visit." He replies as the bartender hands him some fruity drink.
"Yeah it's been a while since we've been out of the studio so we figured a return to our roots was in order." Jake smiles and kills his glass of whiskey.
You'd met the brothers a long time ago at a bar in Nashville when their careers were just starting to pick up. Since then, you saw them every now and again in town.
You catch up for a while, giving the alcohol plenty of time to saturate your bloodstream. The clock on your phone reads 11:20, ten minutes until the next set starts. Just one more drink.
"How's Jita doing?" You ask Jake "Where is she tonight?"
"She's actually at home tonight. Flying out tomorrow for a project in London. Getting plenty of beauty rest." He says as the bartender fills his glass.
"Well tell her I missed seeing her, it's been too long." You say as you down the rest of your drink. "I'll see you two later, the next set is starting in a few."
The music flows freely through you now that you're nice and warmed up. Happy to see some old friends, and now properly buzzed, Tabby's voice melds with your guitar. You see the two brothers and a third man you've never met greet one another and slide into seats at the bar.
...
Your night ends around 3am. You carefully place your old Fender back into its case. It was your first big girl purchase after you started making a little money in town. It's pale blue face shines in the bright lights of the stage and you feel a little nostalgic for the early days of your music career. The bartender slides you a drink for the road as you pass the bar. You carry it with you as you exit the bar and set off on foot.
Another night in the books. At 24, your body has already begun to tell you that you're outgrowing the bar scene. Performing is fine, but the drinking makes you feel as if  you're being viewed from behind thick glass. A wall between yourself and the audience. A security blanket. The glow of the front lights on your building is a welcome sight. A little drunk, and too tired to bother with bathing you collapse into bed. As you fall asleep you feel strong arms wrap you up and the smell of linen pulls you into oblivion.
• • • •
Thanks for reading the first chapter! These will probably be shorter chapters until I get warmed up and decide which form the story is going to take. Updates soon!
-E
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dirtyvulture · 3 months
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😎 Happy Father’s Day !!!!!! I had bought all the ingredients for a cook out ( my dad loves to grill and cook) for his gift , plus whiskey ( Bird dog blueberry whiskey, and a huge 7up bottle to make mix drinks ) for mom and I . For Dad I bought the makings for Bloody Mary’s.
Let’s see if I can come up with thoughts on each of Vultures lovely universes .
In the DK universe, I think that this day is kinda of a somber occasion for R because MOST of the men she loved and looked up to as fatherly figures are LONG GONE . John Howlett when she was only 13 years old ( she SAW the aftermath of everything) , Quincy SR lived and died while R was on the run and couldn’t go back ( R WANTED with EVERYTHING in her to go to the Morris’s but she just couldn’t) . So I think she lights two candles , smokes a cigar ( John and Quincy Sr’s favorite brand…… or at least the CLOSEST modern day equivalent to that brand) and drinks whiskey ( again John and Quincy SR’s favorite) but leaving two shot glasses of whiskey out for the two men . Then later on there is William Hudson ( Esther’s husband…. And the father of Esther’s children. The grandfather - and so on and so forth- of the Hudson clan ) …… the husband and father of the woman who R was IN LOVE with. She actually liked Will as he was a good husband, father ( and grandfather) and just a good man . So she would celebrated Will until he died. R goes up to the professor and probably takes him out to dinner or something nice like that….. all while REFUSING to admit that she sees the professor as a fatherly figure. The kids go all out celebrating the professor ( mostly) , Beast and other male teachers/ staff just like they did for Mother’s Day . They don’t include Scoot .
In the SB , I have mentioned that SB didn’t have the greatest “ father” or the ideal home life. But I was talking with a friend and we both decided that while school (but mainly high school) was a ROUGH time for SB , they did sports and the were close to the coach. So they celebrated their coach instead, when they enlisted they unfortunately lost touch but SB still holds their coach near and dear to their heart. The kids Kit and Jane as well has Nat do a great job celebrating SB , and SB gets soo choked up by it all as they are so happy with the family that they built and thought they could NEVER have .
Father’s Day in the EV universe is…….. complicated as that R and her dad seems to have a …….. strained or complex relationship to say the least . But I would think that R still takes her dad out for dinner or something like that to celebrate him . They seem to have a decent enough relationship for that and they are civil enough for it.
Happy Father's Day! That all sounds like a great time. :)
LOL Poor Scott 😂 (but I'm sure he has some students who adore him). But yes, sadly DK!R has lost all of her childhood father figures, but she views the professor as one so off they go to dinner 🥰
SB would be so shocked to be honored on Father's Day, they simply wouldn't know what to do.
I don't even know how EV!R would celebrate Father's Day (unless it was with Nat 👀) We will get to learn more about R and her dad's relationship in future installments though, so stay tuned...
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themultifandomgal · 2 years
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Michael Gray- Return Pt1
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Writing this I had no destination in mind so I literally wrote it as it came to mind. Hope it's ok
"YN where the bloody hell 'ave you been?" Arthur shouts as you walk into the Shelbys privet room in the Garrison
"About" you shrug sitting next to John, stealing his cigarette and inhaling
"It's been months since we've see you" Polly comments pouring you a glass of whiskey
"Yeah, well needed to get away for a bit" you sigh thinking of your boyfriend who you walked in on fucking your best friend "anyway, how's everyone?"
"Could 'ave fucking told us where you were instead of leaving that bloody note with Isaiah. Fucking hell YN we were bloody worried"
"Well I can handle myself" you reply to Arthur
"Don't we know it" Tommy mutters. The door to the room opens and in walks a man you've not see before
"Sorry mate, family only in here"  you smirk at the guy while looking him up and down
"Yeah and you are?"
"This here Michael is YN" John places an arm around your shoulders
"And? she said family only in here so what's my relation to her?"
"She's not blood related to us, family nonetheless" Polly tells him
"Im bloody confused"
"Figures" you comment "my sister was Martha Shelby, Johns late wife. Now who the fuck are you?"
"Unlike you I'm actually blood related. Micheal Gray" he places both of his hands in his pockets
"Ahhh Polly's long lost son. So Tommy did find you in the end"
"You knew Tommy was looking for him?" Polly ask sitting down next to you
"Yeah. He told me the day before I found Alex and Marie, bloody backstabbing bitch" you cross your arms in anger
"Hey, they've gone, left. Don't need to worry about them now eh?" Tommy says taking a sip of his drink.
The evening is full of drinks, laughter and card games. When you leave Michael is adamant that he has to walk with you 'be a gentleman' he said to which the Shelby brothers all start laughing knowing you are more than capable of handling yourself
"You cold?" Micheal starts to take off his blazer
"I'm fine, it's actually warm out" you laugh
"Oh, it's just I've seen the others do it for girls they walk home"
"Ah they walk the women home do they?" you stop in the middle of the street
"Yeah they erm..."
"Your still quite naive aren't you pretty boy" you pat his face while smiling
"What do you...."
"They aren't just walking them home. They're getting some action for their troubles"
"Oh"
"The taking off of the blazer is their 'let's have sex tonight' move" you continue to walk down the street towards your house
"I see. Does my mum know?"
"Of course she does" you clear your throat "if you boys insist on fucking these woman at least be somewhat of a gentleman" you put on your best Polly Gray voice making both you and Micheal laugh
"How did you get mixed up with that lot? I know you said you're Martha's sister, but why are you still..."
"Why am I still involved?" Micheal nods his head "well, John married Martha young because she fell pregnant and our parents kicked her out. She was 17 I was 12. I wasn't allowed to see my big sister, but then they caught the Spanish flu. They both died so I moved in with John and Martha. A year later she was pregnant, this time things went bad and she died. I stayed with John but then he went to war so me and the kids moved in with Polly"
"How old are you now?"
"17 nearly 18. You?"
"18"
"Good to know"
"So where have you been?" Micheal asks he actually seems interested
"Stayed with a Ada in London. Told her to stay quiet, couldn't deal with the Shelby boys"
"Wait" Micheal stops me again "you said you moved in with my mum, so where are you living now?"
"With your mum"
"So why are we at the other end of town" he asks face laced with confusion
"Never said I was going home" you smirk
"Your a minx" he points making you laugh.
This time you actually are on your way home after having a nice walk and chat with Micheal. Unfortunately some men approach you
"Hey YN!"
"Here we go" you sigh
"You know them?"
"Alex's friends. Just, let me deal with them"
"And you called Marie the whore" you roll your eyes
"The Shelbys not enough for you?"
"Fuck off James" you try to move past him but he places his hands on your arm
"Get your hands off her"
"Micheal it's fine I can handle myself"
"We're just having a bit of fun aren't we YN" James moves a piece of hair from your face
"I'm going to make this very clear. Fuck off and leave me alone or else you'll be joining Alex and Marie"
"You wouldn't" he laughs
"You know I would"
"I'd like to see you try" James grabs your face with his hands but you take a gun that you had hidden under your dress and point it to the side of his head "I suggest you fuck off" James let's go of you and runs off with his friends leaving just you and Micheal
"Bloody hell woman" Micheal breathes out "why do you have a fucking gun? and what did you mean by they'd join Marie and Alex?"
"Have you met the Shelbys?" you chuckle putting the gun back under your dress "Arthur taught me how to use a gun to protect myself when alone. They worry and I haven't got the Shelby name to protect me so the gun is the best I've got, though I've never actually had to use it thank god"
"You're not what I was expecting" you frown a little as you walk back to Polly's place "they talked about you, well John and Arthur kept asking to find you. Tommy said you'd be back when you were ready"
"He knows me pretty well huh?"
"Seems it"
You finally arrive home
"You want a cup of tea?" Micheal asks you
"Maybe something stronger?" you sit at the table. Micheal takes two glasses and pours a drink in each
"I enjoyed our walk this evening"
"Me to" you smile "thanks" you say as he places a glass in front of you "so how are you adjusting to Peaky Blinders life?"
"Weird. For years I didn't have a family except for mother. Then Tommy found me and now I've got another mum and cousins who argue a lot"
"You get used to it. I'm sorry about your sister"
"Sorry about yours" you both sit in silence while finishing your drink
"I'm going to head off to bed. I guess I'll see you in morning"
"Good night"
"Night" you put your cup in the sink and head off up to bed.
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Merchild (3)
Part 2 : Part 4
Sorry it’s kinda late, work decided it needed me earlier than expected and I was planning on finishing the writing of this bit before going to work but life decided nahhh. Anyway it got done. Sadly no Jade Action but at the end is sort of a concept drawing I did of her on my break today. It’s not perfect and might not be the final design but you know, it’s something!
Randy goes to the bar for a quick drink, some news gets out, and a newbie learns not to be so loud about his disbelief in legends
Warnings: Drinking, old tales of dangerous creatures doing horrible things, (cause you know old dark legends) and kinda arguing
The door to the bar swung open, letting a warm glow hit Randy’s face, a chorus of laughs and music enter his ear. He walked past tables filled with fishers telling their fishing tales to those who’d listen and to the small amount of visitors to the island. Most tables had fishers and all their fisher friends chatting about the day and laughing about past incidents and pranks. Randy walked all the way to the bar and sat on an open seat.
“Oh! Look who isn’t dead! Thought you died yesterday when you didn’t come in for your usual drink,” Randy looked over to see Trisha walking over to him. She was the bartender and made some good drinks, could mix up the perfect drink for you if you wanted her too. Almost everything in the bar was made by her or her wife Margo who likes growing fruits and vegetables in their small garden. Many of these fruits and veggies were used in making many of the drinks, “So want your usual?” She asked leaning on the counter.
“Yeah hit me with that whiskey,” He said with a sly smile.
Trisha laughed, “Alright, but I’m trying something new with you. You owe me for thinking you died last night. What even happened?” She asked as she turned to start mixing a drink together.
“Oh well you see…my wi- Sierra sent me another divorce paper…and I thought we were done with it all, you know?” Randy said, grabbing the hair on his head, reliving the moment he read the papers.
Trisha hummed and nodded, “So what’s the Bitch want now?”
“She wants to get full custody of our son”
Trish turned around and with a face of shock and rage looked at Randy, “She fucking serious? She takes that kid away from you and I’m taking her goddamn kneecaps!”
“I can still fight it”
“Oh really. You’re gonna fight it. With what money. You barely pay any of your tab, your a drunken mess some nights, and she already has another guy she’s leaching the life out of.”
“I know, I know but…maybe I’ll get lucky. I mean I got a some real good catches today! Maybe I can fight to keep it how it is or even get more. I get Andrew on the weekends already. I just…don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see him…”
“That’s rough buddy.” Said a nearby Fisherman who had tuned into the conversation, but made no eye contact.
Trisha sighed and then slid the glass over to Randy, “Here try it, tell me what you think and then maybe continue with your story too.
“Alright,” He took a good sized sip of the new Whiskey cocktail. “Oh damn, you put lemon in this or something? Got a sour kick to it. It’s nice actually, but loosen it up a bit.”
“Noted now your ‘I wanted to make everyone think I’m dead’ story?”
“Right, so I got those papers, and then I thought ‘Fuck it!’ grabbed a bottle of Whiskey and went out to sea on my boat”
“Oh you are a bit stupid.”
“Shut it, I know that part of the sea better than my own hand. I don’t need the sun to show me where the rocks are sticking out. Anyway, I go out and just get drunk and th-“ Randy paused. He couldn’t talk about Jade. If he mentioned her, then the whole bar would know, or at least this echo were listening would. He thought about it and, “then I might have lost it a bit you know? Saw some weird things in the water. Thought I saw a-“
“MERMAID!!!!!”
The shout pierced through the bar causing everyone to turn and look towards the door. An older man with a cap on was holding the doors open, with a panicked look on his face. Randy felt his face go pale the second he heard. Did Jade get seen? Or was it a different mermaid? Either way it wasn’t good news. If it was Jade she might get hunted down, that’s if everyone believed that is.
“What’s this about Mermaids?” Asked someone in the back.
“I SAW ONE!!! It was swimmin’ and splashed its tail! I saw it from a distance but I know what I saw! It was no lil fish! Tis a mermaid I saw!”
“Yo Bruce! You finally hit your head or something? You do know you go to the bar to get drunk not come to the bar drunk already!” Shouted a man at one of the tables. The room filled with laughter until Bruce walked over and grabbed the man.
“Ye think I’m FECKIN LYIN?!?!” He shook the man’s shirt in his grip.
“Well everyone knows mermaids are just tall tales.” Said an unknown voice from another table.
Everyone in the bar then turned to see who spoke. It was a younger man wearing fine clothing. He stuck out like a sore thumb with them in fact. Most fishers had raggedy clothes or shirt that was stitched up at least five times. No one had fancy new clothes like him, except the tourists but they wore t-shirts and shorts. The man wore fishing wear, very new fishing wear.
“Listen here boy, I don’t know where ya heard that, but it ain’t true” Bruce said walking towards him.
“Listen to him youngster.” Said another voice from the far end of the bar table. It was from the oldest fisherman in town, Eugene. Everyone knew to not mess with Eugene, he was the oldest and wisest fishers out there. Despite his old age he still sails out to sea and simply enjoys fishing for fun. He’s retired so he tends to simply tell his tales to travelers and give advice to young new fishers in town who think they can get lucky.
Eugene stood up and walked hobbled over to where the young man was sitting and where Bruce was standing.
“Ah! Eugene! Ye believe me right?” Bruce asked. Eugene nodded and Bruce turned to the young man, “Listen to ye elders kid, they got some shite to tell ye,” he said before stepping back. Allowing Eugene to look at the man.
“You’re new. And foolish. Tell me fingerling, do you know the sea tales?” Asked Eugene in a deep stern voice.
The man paused before scoffing, “you mean fairy tales?”
“Answer the question.”
With Eugene staring into his eyes with a fierce gaze, the man answered, “Yeah I know about mermaids. They aren’t real.”
Eugene grinned with a little glint in his eye.
“Oh shite! Ya bout to learn somethin’!” Bruce said with a smile.
It always happened when a newbie came to town. Either they were told the tales and don’t make a fuss, then slip right into the fishers community. Or they stick out and get called out for not knowing what they were about to get into.
“Crestal is a town that loves and respects its legends. It will tell you it’s tales, but you must listen, Fingerling!” Said Eugene, with a hum of yes from the crowd. The travelers were going to get a show tonight, that’s for sure, thought Randy as he watched the commotion.
“You at least know the three deadly tales? Mmmh? They must be teaching you youngsters something on that mainland!” Eugene said with annoyance, only to be met with a no, “Can’t even teach right, useless schools over there I tell you, USELESS! Guess we’ll teach you.”
He turned and walked a bit before pointing to a table, “YOU! Tell ‘em the Moving Sea Grass tale.”
The table paused and nobody moved until a woman stood up proudly and said, “The Moving Sea Grass, The Boat Eaters, The grass that consumes men. When out at sea or even in a pond, be wary of the grass that creeps along. All true plants stand in one spot swaying along with the currents. However there is one plant that moves itself along the oceans floor. If you spot a patch and notice it has moved, you must quickly get you boat away! Otherwise the grass will reach up slowly, leeching onto your boat. Doesn’t matter if it’s metal or wood, it’ll hook itself into it. Then drag you and you boat down to the deeps. Using both of you as a food source. Notice it before it grabs your ship and you’ll be safe, watch for grass that has no fish swimming nearby. They know the truth and stay far away from it, as it eats them too.”
The woman bowed, before sitting back down. She earned some claps from the tourists as well as from some of the fishers.
Eugene looked back at the young man who waved it off, “Oh big deal Grass that snatches people. That’s just getting your boat stuck in some overgrown seaweed! Anyway I won’t be fishing, I’ll be hunting Turtles. Good money in that.”
The crowd went silent. So this is the guy who went into Wilson’s place, Randy pondered, he shouldn’t have said that. He took another swig as he was about to truly enjoy what would happen next.
“ARE YOU STUPID?!?!?” Shouted a man from across the room. Everyone watched as he walked over towards the young man, “Eugene, I got this one.” Eugene didn’t even have to say anything and just let the man walk forward.
“You ever hear of Turlies?”
“Oh great that bullshit! You know I’ve about had en-“
“SHUT IT!!! THIS ONE IS MORE REAL THEN YOUR SHIT CLOTHES!!!” The man shouted, cutting the young one off.
“Turlies are no fucking fairy tale, oh ho ho NO!! They’re real and my Family knows it. You know how turtle soup got really famous and still is in some stupid places? Yeah maybe it tastes good, but fuck, I don’t want to ever find out! Back when our ancestors thought ‘oh turtle taste pretty good let’s hunt them!’ something happened. Hunters started disappearing, only those who didn’t hunt turtles were spared after a time. I don’t know if it was a God or the sea itself, but someone didn’t like us hunting the turtles. They really didn’t like us touching them, they didn’t like us hunting whales either but whales don’t come round these parts very often.
Anyway, whatever got pissed off made the Turlie. A creature that when looking from above looks exactly like a turtle, so you’ll pull it into your boat and BAM!!! That’s not a fucking turtle!!! You’ll see it has hidden claws under is flippers and it’s head is a beast! Sharp teeth and it can WALK!!! Imagine grabbing a turtle thinking ‘oh this is just a little guy who will maybe flail his flipper things, it can’t b- OH SHIT’ because it stood up and walked over to you,” This man was putting on a performance. Slamming his hands down, walking around, dramatic turns, it had it all and Randy was loving the hell out of it, “That’s what a Turlie is, a human hunter. A mother fucking turtle that decided ‘fuck you, and your bones’ cause guess what bud? They don’t eat meat. They eat only bones and scales! Your body won’t be found and if it is found it’ll just be gross flesh cause your bones got ate. Alright? So don’t fuck with turtles cause they’ll fuck with you. It’s how my fucking great grandpa died, I fucking know this shit.”
The man stepped away from the young man who was now on edge about everything.
“Okay, sounds made up but whatever. I won’t die from a turtle.” The young man stated, once the Turlie Story man walked away.
The man stopped and paused, “Oh shit you might be right. This dumbfuck might not die from a Turlie cause he’s gonna die from my fucking hands” Instantly several other fishers quickly grabbed the guy before he could get over to the young man. Calming him down and dragging him away saying ‘it’s not worth it’ and to ‘just let him be dumb for a least one more day’
Eugene sighed, “enthusiastic that one. I know you know about mermaids though right? They are the last of the 3 deadly sea tales after all.”
“Yeah, beautiful maidens who lure in boats to crash into rocks or drown sailors,” The young man said brushing him off.
“Not quite. They are the oldest of the sea beast. Often referred to as the queens of the sea beasts. They are huge beasts that are said to grow so large that some can pick up a cruise ship with just two fingers. They love the taste of humans too, but they are cruel. Often playing with their food as they slowly rip it apart. Mermaids are huge evil beasts, that rarely go near the surface. Unless they have a young one, whom they will teach. If you ever see a small mermaid, about the size of me or you. That’s a a simple babe, and the mother is nearby. They look almost nothing like sweet maidens with a fish tail. They are beasts with sharp teeth and claws, with the ability to poison and slow down prey. However they do bring one good thing, and that is big fish. Big fish are naturally drawn to mermaids, perhaps for protection or some kind of calling. It is unknown as to why but, do you risk getting eaten in one bite for a big catch? Most don’t even try. It’s rude to steal someone else’s food after all”
Eugene smiled after telling the story and the young man in front of him looked confused and then angry.
“YOU’RE ALL CRAZY! None of you are sane! No wonder this town is losing business! They were right about you guys, but I’ll prove you wrong! I’ll fight that fucking mermaid! Oh wait! It doesn’t exist! So it doesn’t matter,” he stood up and snatched his hat off the table and snidely looked down at Eugene, “I’ll be off to make my fortune on turtles now, while all of you can stay sad, drunk and poor!” He stormed off, slamming the door on his way out. The room fell silent.
“Soooo…we gonna bet on if he’s gonna die or not?” Asked the fisherman nearby Randy.
The entire bar laughed and with a chorus of yeses a small bet had started amongst the fishers.
“Not joining the betting, Randy?” Asked Trisha.
“You know he can’t do that, he’s got to save his money.” The two looked over to see Eugene walk over and take a seat nearby, with Bruce right behind him.
“Yeah yeah, I was only joking, usual?” Trisha said with a chuckle. The two nodded and she started to pour the two their drinks.
“So what are we gonna do bout the mermaid?” Asked Bruce
Randy had almost forgotten, Bruce saw a mermaid…possibly Jade. He glanced over to Eugene who was thinking.
“Well we need more information. You don’t know how big it is, and we shouldn’t even try anything before knowing that. Don’t want to start a fight with a mother, but a younger one with no mom or an orphan could be dealt with. Although you said it splashed right?” Bruce nodded as he downed the drink handed to him, “Older mermaids might know better than to do that. We just need more info on it. Don’t know anything about it do you Randy?”
Randy froze, of course he knew about the mermaid. He braided her hair for Christs Sake! She helped him bring in a huge haul of fish today! He couldn’t just sell her out! She was young and curious, and it reminded him of his son in a way. So curious about the new things he saw, and wanting to impress him with things he did.
“Nah, Randy was drunk out on his boat last night. Probably didn’t see nothing, unless…did you say you thought you saw something out there?” Trisha asked.
Shit, I fucked up. Was the only thing running through Randy’s head, “oh uh yes..I thought I saw something…maybe it was a mermaid or even a Turlie but I don’t know. I was really drunk…”
“Well maybe next time don’t drink that much, then maybe you’ll remember if you saw it or not.” Eugene said.
“Aie, but maybe ye did see the mermaid. Howzit bout ya go back out there and see if ye can find it again mmmh?” Suggested Bruce.
“Oh I would but can’t tonight, got some things I need to figure out tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, But you know I’ll keep an eye out for it.” The other two nodded at Randy’s response.
“Sounds good, now get home to figure things out.” Trisha said jokingly.
“Alright alright, better get going before I can’t drive home I guess. See you later.”
Eugene, Bruce, and Trisha all waved and said goodbye as Randy left the bar. Once in his car and he was driving home he sighed. His mind was all over the place. From the new divorce papers, the mermaid, the increase in payment, the fact that Bruce saw a mermaid and then he agreed to help, and the guy who went to a town of legends and didn’t think they’d take them seriously; it was just too much for one day.
Back at his home he walked in, ate some left over food, took a quick shower and just plopped into bed. He looked over at his window towards the sea. He’d have to go back out there tomorrow. Like he did every day, but mostly because he made a promise to come back to Jade. He couldn’t disappoint her, but what if it was all a trick? He didn’t know…but he was willing to risk it. Why not? He doesn’t have much to lose right now, other than Andrew and he might be losing him too.
Tomorrow was another day of fishing, with a mermaid. He thought as he drifted off to sleep.
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