#whiskey is not a responsible adult

[xxwhiskeyxx]

All Because I Fell: When The Fire Roars

Dew gets pissed off and makes a scene, (Y/N), Rain, and Mountain have to teach him a lesson, obviously?

Also, we get a glimpse into what happened when Swiss left the last chapter

HELLO ALL, I am indeed not dead, as you can see from what I’ve posted. As you very well know, I took a long break after Love Trope February, which I, unfortunately, did not finish because depression and school began to kick my ass at the end of February. This is partially why I also did not post for this last month. I have been very busy with school and moving to a new house, but I have been working on this chapter for the last month, I finished it today! I hope you guys enjoy (Y/N) putting our gremlin in his place, I am not extremely happy with it but I think it's good enough for you heathens

- Love Whiskey <3

Swiss POV:

As I make my way to my room, I let the frustration out as the door falls shut, slamming my fists against it, kicking and punching the hardwood. ‘Fucking hell, I shouldn’t be feeling like this; they love each other. I’m happy for them. I’m happy they're finally together! I’ve wanted them to get together for so long. Why the fuck am I fucking jealous. Neither of them wants me like that…they only love me as a best friend and nothing more, so why the fuck does it feel like my heart is breaking….’ I flop onto my bed and press my fists into my eyes as I spiral, trying to hold off the tears I feel burning behind my eyelids. But before I can stew for long, there's a knock at my door.

I sit up and grab my guitar to try to seem like I was making the excuse I had given, “Come in,” I call as I swipe dust and streaks from the surface. Aether, with a grumbling Dew over his shoulder followed by Rain, entered, “Hey, you seemed a little off. We wanted to make sure you were okay.” Aether offers as he tosses Dew onto my bed, who promptly gives a half-hearted hiss before stretching out as the others sit. “Yeah, I’m good. I just needed to clean my guitar since it was looking a little dingy.” I joke, trying to play off what had happened in the common room, “Yeah? Well, you do know you were quite literally reeking of jealousy whenever you looked at Mount and (Y/N), then guilt whenever you left, buddy. Don’t forget I can sense your feelings.” Aether says as he leans forward with a hard look, “Not to mention you barely ate this morning, which you never do unless you're sick.” Rain adds as Dew crawls into his lap, demanding head scratches. “Yeah, it's clearly nothing, dumbass. Even (Y/N) could tell something was up, so just spit it out.” Dew snarks, which gets him a clip to the ear from Rain, “It’s nothing really, just me being stupid, is all. I’m happy for them.” I say as I look down. 

“Swiss, I know you have feelings for (Y/N). It’s been clear since you two became friends.” Rain sighs as he grabs my leg. Shocked, I shot my head up; I thought I had hidden it. I was the attention whore of the band, sleeping with someone different almost every night, not staying tied to anyone except for my pack, Harlow, and (Y/N). “What?! You’re crazy. I don’t have feelings for (Y/N). They’re my best friend! Why would I try to get someone I supposedly have feelings for with someone else? Much less someone they were convinced didn’t like them back.” I try to glare at the Water ghoul to hide the embarrassment from my face. 

“Don’t try to deny it, dumbass. I’ve woken up to you wrapped up around them and then hissing or growling at me when I tried to join too many times for you to even try to deny it. Now stop lying and tell us the truth.” Dew says, rolling over to stare me in the eye as my ears flatten to my head.

“Swiss, we aren’t trying to interrogate or make you feel bad. We want to make you feel better, is all, or help however we can.” Aether, obviously trying to make me feel better, grabs my hand, but that makes me angry, “Well, you're doing a shit job of it, so what if I love them. Their in a happy relationship with someone they have wanted for goddamn years! I’m not going to fucking push myself onto them when I know they don’t like me the same, for Satan’s sake!” I snatch my hand away and stand up, my tail snapping in the air behind me in anger. “I want them to be happy, and if that means they're not with me, that's fine as long as I get to see them happy. We may believe in polyamory and shit, but humans don’t typically…and I’m not going to push myself onto them in that way if it means I ruin our friendship and make Mount hate me… it's not just (Y/N) I have feelings for anyway….” 

I trail off as I kick my dresser out of frustration, “Fuck! Why are emotions such a fucking bitch? I hate this. I hate feeling like this!” I shouted, punching the wall, “Why can’t I just be the way I was before I met them, fucking immune to feelings for fucking others and not caring who I fucked? I hate that. Satan fucking dammit!” I slam some random weird sculpture that came with the room to the floor before Aether comes up behind me and wraps his arms tightly around me, trapping my arms to my sides and stealing my vision with his Quintessence, “Let me go, Aeth! Lemme go!” I yell, squirming hard against his hold, “Rain.” is all he says, “Hell no, get away from me. I’m fine!” I kick back against Aether as Rain comes near, placing his hands on the sides of my face, and feel myself relax against my will as the larger ghoul gently places me on my bed. My vision is restored as I curl in on myself, my tail wrapped tightly around my arm.

“Swiss, you can’t help who you develop or have feelings for. It’s a natural thing. I know it hurts, but you don’t know they don’t care for you back. We all see the way (Y/N) looks at you. It’s the same way they look at Mountain. Hell, Mount looks at you the exact same way. You just don’t see it.” Aether says as he tugs me to lay on his lap, the other two joining the small pile, Rain’s face pressed into my neck, and the little Gremlin snuggled into my back, “Aether’s right. When you left, they both looked like kicked puppies and when you were spooning Mount, he looked just as happy as he did with (Y/N) in his lap.” Dew mumbles into my neck. Even though he’s an asshole, Dew wouldn’t lie about that, especially in this situation. 

I growl in frustration and hide my face in Rain’s hair, “You guys are just saying that to make me feel better.” I grumble, “No, I’ve walked into your room enough times while you two were hanging out. You would be sleeping in their lap, and (Y/N) would be just looking at you with this soft smile on their face, playing with your hair or rubbing your back; it was like seeing old mates curled up together. Then a couple times when I was bringing you and Mounty stuff during your heats and the way he would look at you, it was like you had hung the fucking moon and planted the first tree. Plus, in case you didn’t realize, he always seeks you out for his ruts. Yeah, he comes to the rest of us sometimes, but he always wants you if he can help it.” Rain says as he gently runs his claws up and down my arm. The bastard knows my fucking weaknesses. 

I can’t believe what I am hearing. I know Mount tends to hunt me down when his ruts start, but I always see him with Rain or Dew too. And (Y/N)...this can’t be true, can it? ”I..fucking shit, why must feelings be such a bitch?” I yawn, “You're telling me.” Dew agrees, “Now shut the fuck up so we can sleep. I ate too much breakfast and need a nap.” he mumbles into the back of my neck, making us all laugh. “All right, Little Comet, (Y/N) and Mounty went to see Sister about moving down here, and they’ll probably be asking for help soon, so short nap.” Aether agrees, laying back against the pillows and rearranging slightly so I’m more up on his chest, the other two begrudgingly adjust to the new positioning, but we soon fall into a pleasant unconsciousness. 

A Few Days Later

(Y/N) POV

Harlow and I were sitting on the couch in the practice room, watching as the band got ready for the tour that started in 2 months. We’ve already fallen into a pretty decent routine: wake up if it’s early enough, then we have morning sex, eat breakfast with the ghouls, go out and help in the garden for chores till lunch, eat in the ghoul den and hang out there for a little while till they have to go to practice, coming with so Mountain will actually go/because I’d have nothing else to do (usually dragging Harlow along if she’s done for the day) and listen while working on the timeline for the tour and setting up hotels along the way so we don’t have to spend as many days on the tour bus that isn’t needed, and other pit stops that fit in along the way, we’re stopping in London and Berlin for a few days between venues because we have a week between Rituals, and finally making sure we have enough supplies on the tour bus for travel days so we don’t starve, dehydrate, or die of boredom because an understimulated Dewdrop, Rain, Swiss, or I do not equal good times. I had been made into Copia’s assistant, to which Harlow was pissed because, in her words, it was “Leaving me with the Crotchety Old Plant Man (Primo)” even though I still come out and help as part of my chores in the morning. Mountain hasn’t changed his chores either, so he is still out there. 

But when Harlow bursts into laughter, I look up from the laptop I had been furiously typing on, “(Y/N) did you see that! Please tell me you did!” She giggles, hand over her mouth. “No, what happened?” I ask with a raised brow. “I…fucking Mountain launched a drumstick at Dew when he threw a pic at him, and now they're wrestling!” she cackles as she rolls on the couch. I now notice the playful growls and hisses coming from the stage. Looking up, I do indeed see a gangle of long limbs rolling across the stage with a Gremlin attached to one of said arms in what looks like not a very hard bite. I give in and start laughing too as I stand, carefully placing the laptop on the side table, and approach the stage, trying to seem serious, “Alright idiots, knock it off before you break something or each other.” I say, hands on my hips. The pair either didn’t notice or were ignoring me, to which I cock an eyebrow. 

Jumping on the stage, I carefully approach the pair where they had paused and are now wrestling, trying to pin the other. Waving Aether over to help, I carefully wait for Dew to become visible before quickly reaching down and scruffing him, yanking him from Mountain’s grasp and holding the Gremlin against me, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. At the same time, he flails as Aether hoists my Earth giant up and over his shoulder, hand planted purposefully on his ass, which he pats with a dramatic moan, “Ah, never will get tired of this ass. You may be built similarly, but you got a fatter ass than Dew, Mounty!” 

Both erupt in hisses and screeches of “Put me down, get your paws off my ass!” and “Take that back! That beanpole does not have more ass than me!”. It’s quite a funny sight because while Mountain can reach the ground with his arms, his legs thrash and almost hit Aether in the groin. “Nah, I think I’m keeping you right here. Swiss come, cop a feel. It’s so soft!” Aether teases which causes Mountain to thrash even harder as the Multi approaches with a shit-eating grin, carefully avoiding the legs. He manages to grab a cheek while making a loud clown horn noise, “Your right, very soft and squeezable. (Y/N), You lucky bastard!”. To which I wink at the ghoul with a smirk, finally releasing Dew as we both start to double over in laughter, “Did you just fucking honk my ass!?” Mountain screeches as he tries to swipe at the Multi.  Soon Aether finally relents, after letting the poor ghoul flail for another minute, and puts him down. Mountain scrambles away as soon as his feet hit the floor to hide behind his drumset with a hiss, ears flattened to his head as his tail flicks very irritably. All of us are rolling on the floor and respected stages with laughter. Even Copia is holding in his laughter poorly, trying to play the role of serious Papa. “Now ghouls, that was not nice! Even though our dear Mounty does indeed have a nice ass, it does not give you permission to ‘honk,” said ass.” Copia says, failing to keep a straight face, a wide smile creeping up. “Stop talking about my fucking ass!”, is screeched from behind the drumset, which set off everyone’s laughter again.

It takes a few minutes for everyone to stop laughing, but someone (Cumulus, Swiss, or Cirrus) catches a glimpse of a pouting Mountain and bursts into giggles, setting off everyone else. Eventually (Y/N) makes their way behind the drumset to their distressed lover, “Aww baby, did you get harassed?” the Sibling teases, which earns them a huff from the drummer, who turns away on his stool, “Oh, they were just playing, Sunflower, don’t get so pissy.” they tease again, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his neck. He tries but miserably fails to not react as his tail comes to wrap around their waist, and a happy chirp escapes the Earth ghoul. He turns around and promptly yanks his mate into his lap, hiding his face in their hair as they laugh, hand coming up and scratching behind his horns, earning a pleased trill. “Alright, my Tesoro's, sadly, as fun as this break was, we must continue. The tour is only 9 weeks away!” Papa calls, which earns a collective groan from everyone. Tensions had been high since the start of practice over 2 hours ago, this had been the first break since they started, and while it had helped everyone let out some stress, it was clear Dew was beginning to get ticked off.

Harlow leaves after another hour, saying she’s hungry and wants to grab food from the dining hall before it’s all gone, but she might join us in the ghoul dens later. Pressing a kiss to my cheek and blowing a kiss to the ghoulettes, Sunshine quickly breaks from the group to run over and tackle the Sister in a hug. Both are blushing when they break from the hug, staring at one another for a moment before Sunshine whispers something in Harlow’s ear before returning to the stage. I shoot her a grin, resulting in her flipping me off as she leaves. “Sunshine, please, we really need to focus,” Copia says, not meaning to come off harsh. Still, the ghoulettes head ducks, and it's clear she’s holding back tears for being barked at in front of everyone. Because even though Sunshine is known for not giving a fuck what anyone thinks and causing mischief with Dew and me, it's different when it’s typically sweet, patient Copia who is disappointed or upset with her. Dew’s ears are now flattened to his head in clear anger. He has been getting increasingly pissed since the break as Copia continually stops them whenever there is a mistake or makes them repeat a song if he thinks it wasn’t perfect enough. 

Soon though, Dew had had enough, it had passed the 4-hour mark at this point, and it was clear Copia had gotten on his last nerve. So when Copia yells at them to restart Kaisarion once again, no one is surprised when Dew yells, “I’m fucking done, fuck you rat bastard. I’m done for today, you’ve run us fucking ragged all fucking practice!” as he stomps and slams his guitars into its case and then stomps out of the practice room. I meet Rain's eyes, knowing we need to go calm him down.

 Copia was silent for a minute before he placed the microphone back on its stand, “I..guess that is the end of practice. I am sorry, my ghoulies, if I ran you too hard.” he apologizes as everyone starts to pack up, I come up to him and place my hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay Papa, your stressed but you have been a little hard on them today, I’m sure Dew will forgive you. He always does.” I offer a comforting smile and a light squeeze before turning to Rain, who's already near the door with Mountain, “I already told Aeth we had it handled, but Mountain said he wanted to help.” Rain says as we make our way back down to the ghoul den. It’s clear Dew had made his way through there, the scent of gasoline and burnt wood filling the space, along with his helmet that had been thrown onto the coffee table.

We reach his door, where we hear him stomping and slamming things. Rain opens the door first to inspect the damage. Mountain has his hand on my shoulder protectively. “Hey Dewy, it’s Rain, (Y/N), and Mount. We wanted to check on you.” Rain calls, and a pillow comes flying and smacks the wall next to Rain with enough force to knock a painting to the floor, “Get the fuck out! I’m fucking fine. Just leave me alone!” I hear Dew shout before I roll my eyes and push past the pair. Dew has never and would never hurt me; he’s said so himself. “Dew, your obviously not fine, your very clearly pissed the fuck off, and we both know when you get like this, being alone makes it worse now sit the fuck down, and we’re gonna talk about it,” I state. Folding my arms as he glares at me.

 His lips curled into a snarl, and it almost looked like fire was crackling in his red eye while the red inner part of his right eye had taken over more than it typically does when he’s this angry. I feel Mountain about to pull me away from him, but before he can, Dew huffs and plops on his bed with his knees to his chest, tail flicking angrily behind him. I smirk at the cute sight and walk over to him, sitting in front of him. Rain and Mountain soon join, “Okay, what pissed you off so badly, Dew? I know Copia was an ass today, but he’s always like this before the tour. What’s got you so wound up, Little Comet? You know you can talk to us.” I say, softly placing my hand on his knee. Dew glares at me but doesn’t pull away.

“I said fuck off, I’m fine. You three don’t need to come in and make a fucking fuss about me,” he growls, glancing back at the boys behind me. Sighing, “Dewy,” I start. The nickname earns a glare from the small ghoul, “Talk to me, or we will make you talk, Honeydew.” I tease, squeezing the thin thigh under my hand, earning a surprised chirp. It has become sort of routine with the other ghouls and me to hunt down the smallest ghoul whenever he explodes like this and let him either rant about his frustrations or, usually the go-to route, fuck him until all the anger has dissipated like a suffocated flame. “I…please (Y/N), I can’t,” Dew whines, reaching for me, mismatched eyes wide with need. I smile down at him, gently pulling his legs down and moving to straddle his lap, earning a soft whine from the little hybrid who tries to grip my hips. But Rain moves to quickly pin the wandering hands down next to his legs, “Good boys, don’t touch without permission Lionfish. You want us to make you feel better, right?” Rain says, condescension dripping from his lips. 

Dew whines again but nods, “Ye..yes, Rainy, please.” he squeaks out, squirming lightly underneath me. A sadistic grin spreads across the Water ghoul’s face, one that only tends to show whenever we’re taking care of the little Gremlin, “Already so needy, after the scene you caused, I’m not sure we should, do you Squirrely?” he asks, coming to sit behind the smaller male, pinning his hands behind his back. I tap my chin with fake consideration before an evil smile spreads, “I don’t think so, Lilypad. I think our Little Volcano needs to learn how to control himself.” I reply. Dew’s face falls at our decision, a cry of protest leaving the small ghoul as he squirms, “No! No, please, I’ll be good!” he whines. I grind down on the growing bulge in his uniform pants. The scantily concealing underwear I wore left few barriers between us, having felt needy since this morning and was hoping to catch Mountain in a moment where we could slip away to have some fun. 

Rain nuzzles into the smaller male's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Oh, Firefly, we know. But you made quite the scene today at practice because you couldn’t control your temper. You know what happens when you are bad, don’t you? Your Mommy and I have to teach you a lesson.” he growls, sinking his fangs into Dew’s neck, earning a mewling whine from the Fire ghoul. “Bu..but Copia was being a prick! He was pushing us all to practice, and I couldn’t help that I got pissed off! He was mean to Sunny!” he says breathlessly, leaning back into the Water ghoul. A deep rumble comes from behind me. Mountain had been so quiet that we had honestly forgotten he was there.

“Fire lily, be quiet and take what you’re given, or your punishment will come from me. You know what happens when I control your punishment, right?” Mountain growls, coming to sit beside me, glowering down at the trembling hybrid. Dew’s eyes widen at the threat. The last time Mountain had been in charge of punishing the Gremlin, he had been forced to cockwarm the Earth giant for hours, not allowed to cum, as he read a book about some music theory out loud. Repeatedly, Mountain would suddenly close the book and pound up into the little ghoul, making him nearly cry from the stimulation. But whenever he would get close, the drummer would stop, reopen the book to the last page, and continue as if nothing had happened. That possibly had been one of the worse punishments that Dewdrop had endured. “Yes, Sir, I’ll listen.” is what he finally decided to answer with, cheeks a fiery red at this point as Rain and I play with his lithe body; the former covering the thin neck with hickies and love bites while I am working his tight pants open, his erection pops out of the confines of his jeans, slapping against his clothes belly.

The guitarist lets out a whine, bucking up to try and gain the friction he so desperately craved. But I am sitting just far enough away that it doesn’t make contact. Instead, I condescendingly stroke his cheek before laying a sharp smack, earning a squeak from Dew, and lean to press my lips to the Water ghoul behind him. 

Mountain rumbles behind me, lips pressing against the claiming bite in my neck, making me shiver. Rain lets out a soft sigh, his cool lips matching the lazy pace of my own. Two large hands suddenly grip my hips, and a long torso presses against my back, “Such a needy thing. After all the trouble you gave us today, you thought we’d simply give you what you want, little Dahlia? No. My beautiful mate and our pretty Waterlily will give you the punishment you have to earn today while I watch.” 

Dewdrop lets out a whimper, “Ye…yes, sir” I can feel him squirming underneath me. He is already leaking where he has pressed between my shirt and his, a wonderful Water ghoul trait that has been leftover from his transformation. I run my fingers through the thick dark locks of the bassist before we finally separate, a thin strand of saliva still connecting us, which Rain licks into his mouth. “Good boy, Rainy. How about we get this little Fireball slightly more comfortable, hmm?” I suggest with a purr in my voice. 

The whine that escapes the hybrid between us is filled with need and desperation, it is almost painful, but Rain shushes him. The Water ghoul gets to work stripping the skinny male of his uniform button-down. At the same time, I yank the skintight jeans off his thin legs, making sure to press soft kisses into his thighs and calves as the skin is revealed. “Dew is so pretty, isn’t he, Rainy? So small and beautiful under us, that pretty blush makes him even more adorable.” I tease, running my nails over his tense stomach, making Dew whine. His hips buck up into nothing, “I agree, (Y/N), he is so exquisite, could almost say even delicate.” Rain muses where he had been steadily marking up Dew’s thin shoulders. His words make the little ghoul let out a loud keen. Mountain gives an approving rumble, “Such a ravishing ghoul, though he is quite needy, maybe you two should shut your needy boy up.” the Earth ghoul is leaning against the wall, unsubtly grabbing at his crotch where a quite large tent has appeared, pushing against the denim of his uniform pants. “I agree, my love, Rainy would you be a dear and shove these in his mouth” Thankful that I had decided to wear a skirt today, this being a rare feminine day, instead of my normal pants, I pull off my already wet panties and hand them to the smirking Water ghoul, “Of course, darling, our little slut is making way to much noise,” he says before shoving the fabric into the Fire ghoul’s mouth. 

As the taste of my wetness from the panties hits his tongue, Dew lets out a muffled moan, eyes rolling back slightly, and it even seems as if he is sucking on the fabric. Frowning, I slap his cheek, hard enough to leave a red mark, “Ah ah, none of that. You haven’t earned to taste me yet. You’re lucky I let you have those. I could have just had Mounty rip your shirt and use that. Be a good boy now.” Dew mewls but nods, and a garbled “Yes, Mommy” is heard through the fabric. Rain lets out a pleased trill, “There’s a good boy. Now, (Y/N) darling, what do you think we should do to him first. Spank him? Edge him? Tie a vibrator to his cock and make him cum until he cries? Oh, I got it! Why don’t we sit him in Mounty’s lap and keep his cock warm while we make him watch, not allowed to touch, as I make you cum?” Rain purrs, nipping the hybrid's neck. Dew whimpers at the suggestions, not wanting to go without being touched for much longer. 

“Oh, Rainy, those are such lovely ideas!” I giggle, trailing my nails down the delicate chest in front of me, tweaking his pierced nipple, “What do you think, my love? Do you like the idea of our Gremlin keeping you nice and warm while our Waterlily makes me cum, and gets me nice and stretched for you? Then maybe later, Dew will have earned his orgasm?” I say, batting my eyelashes at my mate. Mountain ponders for a moment before a sadistic grin spreads across his face, “Mmm, I love the way that beautiful mind thinks. But I do have a suggestion.” he says, undoing the laces of his pants and pulling out his large, already leaking cock, precum dripping down the red tip, “What is it, Mount?” Rain asks, fingers fidgeting with the metal rings laced through Dew’s nipples, “Why don’t you turn that pretty little ass red then you stretch him for me. Even though he’s been bad, we don’t want our Gremlin to get too hurt, do we?” he suggests, me and Rain nod, “Get that special little ring Aether bought you, Rain, and edge him as you stretch that little hole too. Don’t need our Firelily cumming without permission because he can’t control himself.” Mountain rumbles, hand slowly stroking over his length.

Rain and I look at each other with equally feral smiles, “I truly love you, my Hedera. Always have such amazing ideas. Rainy, be a darling and gather the things. I’ll get our sweet Gremlin started.” I press a kiss to the Water ghoul’s cheek as he slips from behind Dewdrop, going to his closet to gather the toys while also shucking off his clothes at the same time. The guitarist is staring up at me with big eyes, teeth clenched into the panties still in his mouth. Carefully moving so I’m next to him, I beckon him with a finger, “Lay across my lap, Dewdrop, ass up” I pat my thighs. Mountain had grabbed the bottle of lube that Dew kept under his pillow and set it next to me. The lithe ghoul whimpers but does as he’s told, crawling towards me and laying his hips across my legs, ass propped up against my right thigh, face buried in the sheets to hide the burning flush of his face. Tsking, I lace my fingers in the long white-blond hair and pull his head up, earning a whining moan, “Ah ah, you know better than to try to hide from me,” I scold, tightening the grip on his hair, making him whimper, “Now, you are going to get as many smacks as I see fit, for now, I’m thinking 25, and you’re going to count each one and thank me, understand?” I ask. Dew goes to nod his head, but my grip on his hair doesn’t allow for it, “Words, Dewdrop, do you understand?” I repeat, yanking the panties out of his mouth. “Ye..yes sir, I understand.” he whimpers out, hips bucking against my leg.

Rolling my eyes, I release his hair, making the small ghoul’s face fall straight into the mattress, turning his head so he isn’t muffled. Rain comes back, laying a small bullet vibrator and cockring on the bed next to me, “I believe this is what we need for now,” he glances down between my legs with a smirk, “He’s already leaking, what a needy slut. We have barely even touched you yet.” he teases, stroking a hand up the hybrid’s back. Dew’s cock kicks against my thigh, and this is when I decide to lay the first smack. The small male yelps, “On..one, thank you, Mommy!” he whines, smirking. I quickly smack the other cheek. Dew does as he was ordered each time, counting and thanking me after each one. I had covered his entire ass in red handprints by the time we reached 15.

The poor ghoul was drooling at this point, eyes glassy and cock kicking with every smack, I can feel the precum soaking into the inside of my pants. “Such as good boy so far, only 10 more.” I smooth a hand across the burning flesh, making him whimper, “Good to keep going, or should I switch to this needy hole that has been begging for my attention for a little bit?” I offer, knowing that while Dew is a masochist, he sometimes needs breaks when he gets this needy. The Fire ghoul shakes his head, “N...no mommy, please keep going. I’m okay.” he begs, wiggling his hips. Chuckling I rake my nails across the sensitive skin, earning a squeal from the ghoul, “That’s my pain slut, always wanting more even when you’re ass is redder. Than. Hellfire.” I annunciate the last three words with harsh smacks, one after the other, in the same spot. Dew lets out a pained moan. I feel his cock kick hard, and a spurt of pre land on my leg, “16, 17, 18; thank you, Mommy!” he whines. 

I can see Rain in Mountain’s lap out of the corner of my eye, the pair locked in a heated makeout session, the Water ghoul’s hand moving as he strokes my mate's cock while Mountain has two fingers buried inside the slick-drenched hole of the bassist. I switch hands after we reach 20, my dominant hand growing tingly and sore after delivering so many hard blows. Once we reach the last 3, I smooth a hand up Dew’s back, “These will be the hardest. I want you to not make a sound other than to count and say thank you, think you can do it for me?” I ask, giving the lithe male a moment to process and answer. It takes him a moment, but Dew nods, “Yes sir, I can.” he says, taking a deep breath and laying his head against the sheets, arching his back up so I have more access. 

Slowly running my hand over the reddened flesh, I lift my hand and slap it down as hard as possible, the skin of my palm stinging from the force. I hear Dew choke down a whimper. I give him a slight small pass for it, knowing how hard it was, “22, thank you, Mommy”, I repeat the process, gently rubbing the irritated skin before bringing my hand down hard, “23, tha…thank you mommy” I can hear the tears in his voice, loud whines come from the Rain next to me. For the next one, I switched to the other cheek, but this time I didn’t give the Fire ghoul the comfort of softness before I let my hand swing down. The surprised squeak he let out made me sigh, “That is your one pass. Next time you make a noise, it’s another 10.” Dew whimpers, “Yes sir, thank you” I do the same action, simply striking his asscheek hard with no warning. I assume he had bitten his lip from the hiss I heard, “24, thank you, Mommy.” I smirk, raking my nails over the flesh, which makes his hips jerk, “Last one, Honeydew” I feel his cock twitch against my thigh, precum having soaked through the fabric of my skirt already. I look over the bright red flesh in front of me, picking out the spot I know will be the sorest, right on the back of his thigh where I had focused a majority of the hits previously. I slowly lift my hand before quickly letting it hit, the last slap echoing through the quiet room. Even Rain whimpers at the sound of the hit. 

Dew had bitten into the sheets to keep from crying out. I watch as his shoulders heave with the effort of not making any sound. “25, tha..tha…thank you, Mommy,” he chokes out, a huge spurt of pre drips down onto the bed, down my thigh. I smile down at the Gremlin, thin hips trembling from how turned on he is and from the pain he was just put through, “Such a good boy, did so well for me. Look at how much Rainy and Mountain enjoyed it” I thread my fingers through his hair again, tugging him up so his eyes can meet the two ghouls across the bed. Mountain now has 4 fingers buried in the skinny bassist as filthy whines and moans come from Rain. 

“Isn’t he so pretty, Dew? Taking Mountain’s fingers so well, do you want that baby?” I whisper in his ear, watching his tail flick in interest. “Ye..yes, please, I want that.” he whimpers, arching his ass up toward me. I grin, watching his tail lift to expose the hole I knew was already dripping in slick, “Oh, Dewy baby, already soaked for me, hmm? Since Mounty is busy, I will have fun with this pretty little hole?” I tease, dragging a finger against the sloppy hole, making him mewl as he tries to arch back against it, “So needy for me, hmm.” I easily slip two fingers in, curling them against the velvety walls. The moan that escapes the hybrid is sinful and damn filthy enough to make even Lucifer blush. I continue to coo at the now squirming male, “Aww Fire Poppy, does it feel good? Having my fingers inside you while you watch your friend get fingered by my mate?” Mountain groans as he hears my words, hips bucking into Rain’s hands. With a growl, he pulls his fingers out of the lithe ghoul, who whines in protest, but when he lifts him up and spears Rain on his cock, it makes the Water ghoul moan loudly. “They’re both needy things, but at least our Water lily is a good boy, right Bluebonnet?” Mountain grunts, bouncing the bassist in his lap.

Dew whines as I brush against his prostate, “I agree. Rain is always such a good boy for us, unlike our Gremlin here. Can’t go one week without needing a punishment, can you, you little slut. Because you know that you’ll get either this pretty ass fucked or your needy cock wet, always needing your mommy, daddy, or Sir to put you in your place.” I tease into his ear, “But…like Sir said, can’t have you cumming without permission. Grab that ring Rainy got for you, please.” I thrust harder inside him, watching Dew’s fingers claw at the sheets, his moans getting louder as he shakily reaches for the cockring. Carefully slipping it down his throbbing length, Dew whimpers as it squeezes his base, “Such a good boy. Maybe once I’m inside you, you’ll be allowed to cum” Rain mewls, clinging to my mate’s shoulders as Mountain uses him like a fleshlight, fucking the lithe ghoul on his cock. I slip 3rd finger in, stretching the tight walls around them further. The stretch makes the hybrid keen, back arching to try and get my fingers in deeper, “Oh, would you look at that? He can’t get enough. My love, why don’t you turn our sweet Water lily around, and this slut can make him feel even better while I get my special toy he loves so much?” I suggest, trailing my nails down Dew’s back before laying a smack to a red cheek.

Mountain grins as he gently lifts Rain off, whose whine of protest turns into a loud cry as the larger ghoul quickly turns him around to face us and slips back in with one smooth thrust. Dew whimpers at the sight, panting with need and cock twitching in anticipation. I smooth a hand over his back, making the little ghoul arch into my touch, “Be a good boy and go wrap that pretty mouth around Rainy’s dick. You know how much he loves that hot mouth of yours” I give him a swat on the thigh as I roll off the bed. Within seconds I hear the Water ghoul moan and a wet slurping noise, smirking as I lean down to rummage through the box in the closet that holds Dew’s special toys. I quickly find what I’m looking for, a 7 and ½ inch dildo and its strap-on harness, turning back to the bed, the sight I find is possibly one of the most erotic I have ever witnessed. Dew, ass up with 3 of Mountain’s fingers buried inside him as he bobs his head on Rain, who is being fucking into by my mate because he has gone boneless at this point, knees spread and held bent to his chest by Mountain as he appears to be whispering things into his ear.

Sliding up behind Dewdrop after slipping the harness on and buckling it around my hips, I run my fingers down his spine until it meets my mate’s fingers, smiling at him, “Why don’t you let me give our little gremlin a reward for taking his punishment so well?” the large Earth ghoul nods with a feral grin, “As long as he keeps making our Lotus clench the way he is, I suppose that is alright.” the tone he has is condescending as he pulls his fingers from the Fire ghoul. Dew immediately whines at the loss, but I shush him by pushing the head of the dildo against his winking hole, “Quiet, Little Comet, I’ll give you what you want. Just keep your mouth on Rain’s pretty cock for us. I think he’s already about to cum” I tell him. The Water ghoul does indeed already look near his release, face flushed a deep indigo at this point, mouth open as he whines and moans, “Da..daddy, please may I cum, please.” he begs. Mountain freezes for a moment before letting out a deep snarl, a large hand flying up to wrap around the bassist’s throat, “Cum for me, Hyacinth, fill the brat’s mouth” Rain keen, body thrashing as he cums. Dew doesn’t stop, desperately sucking harder to milk him for all he has as Mountain seems to slam even harder up into the lithe ghoul. The poor thing is near screaming as he’s overstimulated by the pair. 

Taking the moment to slide home into Dew, giving Rain peace from the vacuum seal of the Fire ghoul’s mouth as he moans, being filled so suddenly and without warning. I watch Dew’s thighs tremble, “There we go, got you nice and full, hmm? Look up at Rain while I fuck you; watch his face as my mate knots him.” I slap his sensitive ass, making him jump. Slowly withdrawing my silicone cock, Dew keens around the Water ghoul’s cock, letting it slip from his mouth as his head falls between Rain’s thighs, staring up as instructed before I push back in. Starting with a slow, teasing pace, after all, the Gremlin doesn’t deserve to get everything he wants all at once, Mountain lets out a growling moan as his knot slams home in a now limp Rain, the smaller’s eyes droopy and a fucked out look on his face, mouth open in a silent scream as the large knot fills him. 

Dew mewls, the fake cock inside him rubbing all the sensitive places so gently, driving him mad, “Pl..please, mommy, faster. I’ve been so good, please,” he whines, looking back over his shoulder with teary eyes. The desperation and neediness in his tone made my stomach flip. I sigh and gently rub his ass, “I suppose you have been good, but you can’t expect me to do all the work, hmm? Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Take what you need as I fill you” I wrap his tail around my hand and tug him back, making the dildo thrust inside him harder. The Fire ghoul moans, shifting his legs so he can have a better stance, then he starts to fuck back onto me, the small amount of ass he has jiggling from the force he is putting into it. I groan, watching him desperately trying to work the cock as deep inside him as possible, as hard as possible; deciding to be a little more merciful, I meet his thrusts halfway, yanking his tail as he comes back so he slams hard against my pelvis. All of this drives the small ghoul to collapse into bed, ass solely held up by my grip on his hip and tail, “Fu..fuck mommy, feels so good. Pl..please, I need more, please may I touch myself” he whimpers out, clenching down on my cock. 

I think momentarily before looking up at Rain and Mountain, “What do you two think? Has our Gremlin earned to touch himself, or should I make him cum untouched?” Rain purrs, the Earth ghoul has been petting through his hair and along his body for a few minutes, so his brain is a little hazy, but he nods, “He’s been good, made me cum so hard.” Mountain thinks for a minute, “I have a better idea, why don’t we have our sweet Raincloud here use his cock how he pleases. Afterall, he’s been the one putting up with the brat’s shit all week, I think he deserves a reward.” he suggests, stroking the skinny thighs of the ghoul in his lap. I grin at the idea, “I love it, what do you think Rainy baby, do you wanna play with our little Fire Poppy?” I tease him, hips still rocking into the whining ghoul under me. I can practically feel his cock kick at the thought of the taller male using him. Blue eyes close as he thinks, head leaned back against my mate's broad shoulder. 

A minute later he looks back at us with a wide smile, “I like it, I can do whatever I want right?” he asks shyly, the indigo flush back on his cheeks. I nod, “Whatever you’d like, he’s your little playtoy Rainy, take your pleasure, love” I slap the Fire ghoul’s ass, who jumps and whines, eyes meeting his friends, “Ple..please, Rainy, use me. Need you, please, I’ll be a good boy!” he whimpers out.

The Water ghoul blinks owlishly at him before a slow smile spreads across his lips, “Hmm, I think I like the idea of that. (Y/N), love, can you arch his hips up a little more. I think I want a taste of his pretty, little cock” he purrs, crawling forward off of Mountain’s lap, the Earth ghoul’s cock slipping out of him with a slick sound. I nod, yanking Dew’s tail so his back is even more arched, making enough room for the Water ghoul to slip underneath. Rain approaches like a predator, eyes locked on the smaller ghoul, who whimpers as he watches him move closer. 

Once Rain is within reach of Dew, he trails his claws down his sides and over a thin hip, teasing the sensitive base of his tail, “So pathetic when he’s like this. He’ll let us do anything we want to him as long as he gets some sort of pleasure. What a good little fuck toy you are, Dewy love.” he purr, to which the smaller nods spastically. I slowed my thrusts as Rain toyed with his packmate, running his claws all over his oversensitive body before he finally grew bored and lay down, slipping under Dew’s stomach, slipping the cockring off before moving to take his throbbing, red cock into his mouth. Dew keens as his dick is suddenly surrounded by the cool, wet mouth. Taking this time to start back up my pace, making the little ghoul screech as his brain gets intensely overwhelmed, body writhing in pleasure as I fuck him and Rain deepthroats him. 

Knowing this will be what sends the guitarist over the edge, I lean over and whisper in his ear, “You know what Rain wants, give him your cum, Fire Poppy, give my Rainbow what he wants” Rain seems to understand what I’m saying because he starts to bob his head in time with my thrusts, This was the undoing of Dewdrop, letting out a wail as his body convulses, cumming hard into the Water ghoul’s mouth, who happily swallows as much as he can, purring loudly as he milks Dew for everything he has. Yet even as Rain pulls off and moves to yank the Fire ghoul into a filthy kiss, feeding him his own cum, I simply keep going. Speeding up, I am now pounding the writhing male into the mattress, determined to wring at least one more orgasm from him before I’m done. Rain holds him still enough, so I don’t have to worry about pinning him. 

I glance up to meet my mate's eyes; Mountain is quickly stroking his cock, hard once more from the scene in front of him, those forest green eyes now dark like midnight with lust. It makes my stomach fill with heat, I may not be gaining physical pleasure from fucking the little ghoul, but the fact I’m impressing my mate while also breaking the most hardheaded of the pack fills me with euphoria. Dew begs, “T..too much, go..gonna cum again. Please, it hurts! Mommy it’s too much!” yet he fucks back onto me, hands clinging to the Water ghoul in front of him. I know he’s already rehardening if the way he’s clenching on my cock says anything. I simply lay over his back, hitting even deeper than before. Dew sobs as I reach further inside him. His body is boneless as he begs for more and to stop filling the air, “Cum for me one more time, sweetheart. That’s all I want. I wanna make you cum one more time, fill that pretty little head with nothing but pleasure and my cock. Be a good boy and cum for me again. I know you can do it for me.” I coo in his ear, reaching a hand under him to stroke his length. 

He sobs uncontrollably into Rain’s lap, body bouncing with the force of my thrusts. Stroking him from root to tip, making sure to swipe my thumb over the sensitive head, I can practically feel his orgasm building. I shift my hips slightly so now I am railing right into his prostate, it only takes a few hard thrusts before Dew suddenly arches his back and lets out a shrill scream, cumming all over my fingers. I fuck him through his orgasm until the skinny ghoul is a babbling mess, no longer able to form words outside of please and too much. 

I rock a few more times into him before gently pulling out of the wrecked male. He collapses into the bed as he sobs into Rain’s lap. I know we overworked him a bit, but thankfully Dew loves overstimulation, and being used like this, we’ve gone much further. I quickly unbuckle the harness and toss it onto the other side of the bed, then I gently gather the still sobbing ghoul in my arms, “Hey, hey. I have you, Dewy, shh. It’s okay. Do you need anything?” I whisper to him, shushing his sobs and rubbing his back as he clings tightly to my shirt. He shakes his head before he buries his face into my chest. I look over at Rain, “Get the basket and grab a bottle of water and some of that lemonade he likes,” I ask. Rain nods and gets up, scrambling out the door to gather the requested items. I look over at Mountain, who is cleaning his spilled cum from his stomach with a tissue, “Can you go run the bath, Sodo temp for now? We’ll get cleaned up once he’s calmed down more.” My mate nods, getting up and moving to the bathroom, I can hear the water turn on after a minute. 

Scooching back so I’m sat against the pillows, cradling the small ghoul to my chin while rubbing his back, cooing praise to help bring him back to Earth. “You did so well Fire Poppy, I’m so proud of you. Could never ask for a better ghoul, my good sweet boy,” I whisper into Dew’s ear, kissing his cheeks and forehead. Soon enough, the sobs become sniffles and hiccups as he calms down. His tail is wrapped around my thigh as he snuggles closer, whimpering whenever I move my hand anywhere away from him. Rain comes back into the room just as Dew’s tears finally stop. Sad hiccups are all that remain, holding the aftercare basket with the big travel mug purchased for the Gremlin on top, practically indestructible in its stainless steel exterior with a metal straw and isolated interior. “He seems better,” Rain observes as he crawls onto the bed, “Hey Tadpole, you thirsty? It’s your favorite” He offers the cup to his packmate. Dew glances over at him and grabs the cup, practically gulping down the lemonade as quickly as possible, “Dewy, slow down sweetheart, you’ll give yourself a tummy ache” I laugh, petting through his hair; following instructions, he swallows a little slower but still quickly drains the cup.

“Now, what do you say?” I coax him when he’s this far into subspace, sometimes Dew has to be reminded of his manners, but that’s also normal Dew behavior. Flushing as he looks at the Water ghoul, “Thank you, Rainy,” he mumbles, accepting it for the best he’ll get right now. Rain smiles and opens his arms in a silent offer for a hug, to which the Fire ghoul jumps into his arms with a trill, nuzzling his face into his mate’s neck. At this point, Mountain comes out to tell us that the bath is ready, looking over at the two, “Hey, do you wanna stay with just Rainy, or do you want Sir and I to stay, baby?” I ask as I pet Dew’s thigh. He looks between Rain and me, thinking for a moment, before pointing to me. Smiling, I nod and move off the bed, “Why don’t you go with Mounty and Rainy and have your bath,” Dew whimpers at the prospect of being separated from me, “Ah ah, let me finish, love. While I get the bed nice and clean with some warm, fresh sheets, blankets, and pajamas, then get you some food and more lemonade. Then we can pile up and snuggle our good boy. Would you like that?” I ask. The little ghoul nods, “Yes, please...can I have some of that meat you made the other day, please.” he asks softly, hiding embarrassedly in Rain’s neck, I smile even wider, “Of course, Fire Poppy, I’ll get that heated up for you. Now go with Rainy and Mounty so they can get you nice and clean so you can eat” I place a kiss on his forehead as Mountain comes over and scoops him up, prompting a little yelp, and carries him off to the steaming bathroom with Rain skittering behind.

Chuckling as the last of the three closed the door, I moved to strip the bed. Tossing all the dirties sheets, furs, and blankets into the laundry hamper, thankfully empty, before taking them downstairs to the laundry room and setting them to wash since the boys will likely take a while to clean each other up. Taking the little bit of time, I had to myself, I jumped in the shower in mine and Mountain’s room for a quick rinse, planning on showering better later or tomorrow before leaving to the kitchen to prepare Dew’s requested food, heating up the meat of the birria before making him 5 tacos loaded with cheese, onion, and cilantro, also making some for my two other boys since I have a feeling they’ll be hungry too. Once I finish with the food, I take it into the bedroom and place it on the side table; once I clean off the toys and lube, I toss the latter into the drawer and take the other to clean in the bathroom. Once done, I finish the laundry, and just as I’m putting it back on the bed, Aether helping since I had run into him on the way down and asked both if he’d like to join us and to help me with the sheets, the boys finally emerge from the bathroom. All wrinkly and giggly with pink cheeks that I guess are not just from the steam. 

After they get clothed, we all settle into the bed, Aether cuddling Rain and Sodo to his chest while I curl up with my mate, “Well, this went a lot better than I expected.” I murmur to him, watching the boys laugh and snuggle close. Mountain rumbles his agreement as he nuzzles into my hair, “You do so good with him…it was nice to see dominate (Y/N) out for a change,” he teases, nipping my earlobe. I giggle and smack his chest, “None of that, we just fucked for two hours and I’m sure you boys got up to no good in the bath if the hickies on your neck say anything. Save it for tomorrow,” I tease back. The large ghoul growls lowly in the back of his throat, “My rut is starting soon, so I hope you realize what you’ve signed up for,” he whispers into my ear, digging his claws into my thighs. I squeak, looking up at him, shocked, wetness starting to leak at the thought. “Of course, always ready for my Daddy,” I whisper. 

[noirandchocolate]

I’m drunk and she went to bed because she has to get up SO EARLY for WORK because UGH but I need you all to know:

I love BAST. She is my girlfriend and I love her thanks autocorrect for fixing aaaaallllllll my typos Bast is BEAUTIFUL and SMART and she has so much talent for many things like ART and makes me HAPPY!!!!!!! She cooks for me and I make her lunch we went out for ramen on Saturday

Everyone should have girlfriend like Bast she has blue eyes and pretty hair and tells me about artists and FACTS about things and shows me only the good tiktoks of birds and memes. She says I’m smart!!!! She said it just now I try to be and everyone should have a girl who listens when they talk about law or things they do at work and interests.

I love Bast. She is @purpledemoncat and @purpledemonart for ART go look she draws many things she is good at the forms and COLORS LOOK AT IT PLS

I love her.

[scatcrccio]

oh you KNOW i adore your nat portrayal and appreciate you always entertaining all my silly tai + nat thoughts <3 in this fandom where adult nat does not get enough credit, you give her the love she deserves, and it makes me so happy to see!!

beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

WELL, DAMN CJ !!! seriously, thank you! because i truly do admire you (mostly from afar), so this means a lot to me, coming from you. we definitely need more tainat things between the two of us but it's always so wonderful seeing you on my dash. you dive into all of the nitty gritty bits of taissa that makes my heart flutter, seriously! every script post and deep-sea diving into who she is on things i never even considered. i love it so much! & thank you for helping in keeping this fandom alive!

[shadowtagg]

Sometimes drinking is the answer

[queenshelby]

Uncle Tommy (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Niece Reader

Warning: Smut, Incest, Taboo Relations, DDLG, Dub-Con

And yes, this was a request! Please comment and engage!

It was during the month of August that you moved back to Birmingham after having spent almost twelve years travelling with your mother Esma after your father died and whilst your mother disliked the idea, you were eighteen now and to put it bluntly, you were no longer a child and had to make your own decisions.

Your mother had met and married another man a few years ago, and you had no desire to be a burden on their newfound happiness so, when your Aunt Polly suggested for you to move in with either her or your Uncle Tommy, you were grateful for the opportunity.

Your Uncle Tommy had horses and you had always loved the idea of working with them, so it was an easy decision to move in with him. Your Uncle Tommy had a new wife. She was his third wife and whilst you thought that living with a man like him and his newfound love would be slightly awkward, you settled in easily. 

After a few days, you began to feel more comfortable in your new surroundings, enjoying your work with the horses and even though you had not seen your Uncle Tommy for over 12 years beforehand, he seemed genuinely happy to see you.

You came across as bright, intelligent and respectful and found yourself in your uncle's office quite often, helping him with paperwork and other business-related tasks. However, there was something peculiar about your Uncle Tommy. Something that made you feel slightly uncomfortable but also somewhat exited when he was around, although you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

He was a mid-forty-year-old attractive man with a commanding presence, handsome, with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair. You never remembered him like this from your childhood. Now he seemed to have acquired a distinguished elegance - a byproduct, perhaps, of his wealth and power.

It wasn’t just his looks, but also the way he carried himself. Confident, commanding, yet respectful. He treated you like an adult and didn’t hesitate to give you the responsibility you craved.

But then, occasionally, you felt as though he made some advances towards you which you were not sure whether or not you should reciprocate. He was your uncle after all. He was a married man, and you were in a relationship with a good young man who happened to be working in your uncle's factory. 

On occasion, your uncle would put a stray hand on your waist, his fingers lightly tracing your curves as he leaned in close to whisper something mundane, his warm breath tickling your ear in a way that made you shiver.

You would quicken your pace, eager to escape the alluring pull of his nearness and return to the comfort of your own room. However, sometimes, you got lost in the moment, in his mesmerizing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you.

One evening, after a particularly long day of work with the horses, you found him in the study.

He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pen in the other. His eyes were focused on some documents in front of him, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Uncle Tommy," you said softly, not wanting to disturb him.

He looked up, his gaze softening as he took in your appearance. You were wearing a simple dress that hugged your curves and showed off your legs. Your hair was loose around your shoulders, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks under his gaze.

"Come in, Love," he said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," you said finally. "It's about James, the young man I am seeing," you told him, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What about him?" your uncle asked , setting his glass aside and giving you his full attention. There was a hint of something in his tone that you couldn't quite place, but it made you feel slightly uneasy.

"Well," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I just wanted to let you know that we're getting serious. I think we might even get engaged soon which means that, maybe, I would be moving in with him."

Your uncle's expression didn't change, but you saw a flicker of something in his eyes that made you feel uncomfortable.

"Love, you are fucking 18 years old, " he said, his voice low and controlled. "You should not be making decisions like that yet," he said honestly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as he looked at you thoughtfully.

"I respect your feelings for this young man," he said finally. "But I urge you to be careful, eh? Don't be a fool. You are a fucking Shelby and you  do not commit yourself to just anybody," your uncle said and you sat there in silence for a moment, digesting his words. You knew he was right, of course. You were young and had a whole life ahead of you. You should not make any rash decisions, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"I understand Uncle Tommy, but I really love him,"  you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your uncle chuckled in response before leaning over the desk and caressing your cheek.  His touch was gentle, but the heat of it sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and danger at the same time.

"You are a beautiful young woman Y/N, " your uncle said, his voice dripping with suggestion. "And you deserve much better than a factory worker like him who seems to have no fucking aspirations to become anything more, eh," he added, his fingers tracing your jawline.

His fingers lingered longer than necessary, and you felt a strange heat spreading through your body. You knew you should pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. Instead, you felt yourself leaning into his touch, your heart racing as your mind filled with forbidden thoughts just before his wife walked into the study.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt," she said as she entered the room, her eyes flickering between you and your uncle.

Your uncle quickly withdrew his hand, his face becoming impassive as he greeted his wife with a warm smile.

"No, it's alright, love. Y/N and I were just having a discussion about her future," he said, his voice betraying no emotion.

You quickly stood up, eager to escape the tension in the room, but you took what your uncle had said to heart. You knew that he was right and, over the next few weeks, the relationship between you and James became strained.

A few weeks later...

It was around 10 o'clock when you heard a knock on the door of your bedroom. You were sitting on your bed, reading a book and trying to clear your mind. 

"Come in," you called out, setting your book aside and straightening your posture as the door opened and your uncle stepped inside.

He looked striking as ever, his hair perfectly styled and his suit tailored to perfection. His eyes scanned over you in a way that made you feel both excited and slightly uneasy.

"Uncle Tommy, what are you doing here?" you asked as he entered your bedroom, closing the door behind him, before sitting down by your side.

"I just came to check on you, Love," he said , eyes gleaming as he looked at your young and naive figure. "To see if you were doing alright," he continued, running his fingers ran through your hair. "Frances told me that you have been having some problems with this boy you were seeing," he then admitted  , with a hint of concern in his voice.

You couldn't help but feel grateful for the attention, and somehow, comforted. You thus sat up next to him, wearing nothing but your satin nightgown, confiding about what happened between you and James.

"We had a little argument because he wants things that I am not ready for, you know. So, I have distanced myself a little from him for now and it's really making me sad," you answered honestly, and your uncle nodded before resting his hand on your bare thigh. 

Your uncle's touch sent a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, his skin was warm and rough, you leaned in slightly towards him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Well, I told you before Love, you deserve better than a boy like James fucking McFallon, eh," your uncle said with a gentle voice, running his fingers up your thigh, causing you to shiver.

"Now, tell me though Sweetheart, he didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do, did he? Because if he has, then I will need to deal with him,"  Thomas said, his voice a low growl.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and safety in your uncle's presence. You knew that he would always be there for you and protect you from anything that could harm you.

"No, he didn't. I just didn't want to take the next step with him yet," you said softly, looking up at your uncle.

His fingers were still tracing their way up your thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

"And he hasn't touched you in any placed you didn't want to be touched, has he?"  Thomas asked, looking into your eyes with that piercing blue gaze.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, in your rather naive mind, causing your uncle to chuckle.

"I mean, he hasn't touched you down here without your consent , has he?" Thomas clarified, his hand vaguely brushing over your clothed sex.

You felt a sudden heat rising to your cheeks as your uncle's words finally sunk in.

"No, he hasn't. I wouldn't allow it," you said, but your voice wavered slightly, giving away your uncertainty as your uncle's eyes gleamed as he nodded his head, pleased with your answer.

"Good, because if he had touched you right there without your consent, then would have had no choice but to fucking cut him, eh?"  Thomas said, as he gently caressed your cheek with one hand while rubbing his fingers over your panties with the other, before pulling the fabric to the side. 

You froze almost immediately , tensing up as you tried to comprehend what your uncle was doing.

"Uncle Tommy, you shouldn't touch me down there, I think," you stammered while, at the same time, inadvertently spreading your legs.

"You are right Love, I probably shouldn't. But doesn't it feel nice when I touch you there?" Thomas whispered as you rubbed his thumb over your clit, creating a strange wetness between your folds.

"It feels really weird, Uncle Tommy," you moaned as your uncle started to move his thumb in a circular motion, building up a strange and unfamiliar ache in your lower belly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas asked, his voice husky and full of desire as he slowed down his movements, waiting for your answer.

"No, don't stop," you panted , your body coming alive under his touch.

Thomas smiled and resumed his previous pace while feeling himself grow hard beneath the confides of his pants.

"Do you think I could have a closer look at your treasure, Sweetheart? I would love to see that beautiful little hole of yours now, because it is getting so nice and wet for me,"  your uncle whispered in your ear while slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

"Uncle Tommy, I don't know if that's a good idea," you said, gasping slightly as you felt your uncle's fingers touch your intimate areas.

"I promise, Love, I will make you feel really nice down there," Thomas reassured you, sliding his index finger over your wet folds. 

"Okay , but just this once," you agreed, reluctantly but with a hint of curiosity in your voice.

"Good girl. Why don't you lie down for me , Love?" Thomas suggested, removing his index finger from your wetness and giving you a soft pat on your bottom, encouraging you to lie back down on the bed.

You didn't resist and followed your uncle's instructions, biting your lip as he slipped off your panties, leaving you bare before him.

Thomas couldn't help but admire the sight of your body laid out before him. Your legs were slightly parted, giving him a glimpse of your beautiful, wet sex. Without warning, he then spread your labia open with his fingers, exposing your clit and inner folds.

"Such a beautiful sight, eh" Thomas whispered while gently tracing your folds with his index finger, causing you to shiver at the touch.

"You are simply stunning, Love," Thomas continued, awe in his voice as he leaned down to get a closer look.

"Have you ever put your fingers inside your little tressure box here?"  Thomas asked, his voice low and deep as he gently circled your clit with his thumb.

"No, I don't think I have," you replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves as your uncle asked you such a personal question.

"Would you like me to be the first one to do it?" Thomas asked, his eyes gleaming with desire.

"I-I don't know," you stammered, feeling yourself flush at the thought. "Is it going to hurt?" you asked, biting your lip as your uncle's fingers continued to explore your wet sex.

"Only for a moment, Sweetheart. But I promise, it will feel so good after that," Thomas reassured you, before slowly and gently running his index finger over your wet sex again. 

"Okay , let's try it," you agreed, feeling yourself getting more and more aroused by your uncle's actions and words.

Thomas couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as, very carefully, he pushed his index finger inside your tight sex, feeling your inner walls clench around it.

You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, as your uncle's finger penetrated you for the first time. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but also incredibly pleasurable.

"How does it feel, Love?" Thomas asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"It feels...weird, but also kind of nice," you replied, finding it hard to put your feelings into words.

"Good, that's great Love," Thomas praised you, as a proud smile appeared on his face. "Now, I want you to relax and breathe deeply while I move my finger inside of you, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, taking deep breaths as your uncle slowly moved his finger in and out of your sex. It was an odd sensation, but also incredibly arousing.

You couldn't believe what was happening in this moment, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that it felt incredible. Thomas's fingers were now exploring every inch of your wet sex, causing you to moan and writhe in pleasure beneath him.

"You're so fucking tight, Love," Thomas groaned, as his finger moved deeper inside of you. "But I think I can get a second finger inside without breaking your barrier," he said tentatively  , looking deep into your eyes for consent.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but you also couldn't deny the arousal that was building up inside of you. You nodded your head in agreement, and Thomas slowly slid in a second finger, causing you to gasp at the feeling of being stretched.

"That's it, Sweetheart. Just relax and breathe," Thomas whispered softly in your ear, as he continued to move his fingers in and out of your wet sex.

The feeling was still strange and unfamiliar, but the pleasure that accompanied it quickly overshadowed any discomfort you might have felt earlier. Your breathing became heavier and more ragged as your uncle's fingers continued their slow, teasing movements.

Thomas could feel your body tensing up beneath his touch, so he leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, "You're doing great, Love. Just relax and let me make you feel good."

He moved his fingers slowly at first, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being penetrated in this way. He could feel your tight walls gripping his fingers, and he knew he had to be gentle.

"Oh God," you moaned, your head falling back as you felt your arousal build. "Something strange is happening," you admitted, as you could feel a pressure building up inside of you, along with a warmth spreading throughout your body.

"Explain it to me, Sweetheart. What do you feel?" Thomas asked again, his fingers still working their magic inside you.

"It feels good, but I feel like I am about to wet myself," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

"That's good. This means you are close," your uncle said as he started to circle his thumb faster on your clit, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you at the same time.

"Let go, Sweetheart," Thomas coaxed you. "Don't hold back, just let it happen."

You listened to your uncle, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the sensations rippling through your body. His words were like a switch, releasing all remaining tension and inhibitions, sending you crashing over the edge in a dizzying wave of pure pleasure.

"That's it, Love. Let it all out," Thomas encouraged you with a gentle smile, as he watched you ride this new and exciting experience.

"Oh my god. Oh fuck," you moaned as your body trembled and shuddered, the pleasure radiating outwards from your core  , pooling in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Your orgasm hit you hard and strong as you released your wetness all over your uncle's hands, leaving you panting and sweating. You squirted for several seconds, leaving the sheets soaked and you blushing with embarrassment.

"I-I didn't know that could happen," you stammered, your cheeks flushed red as you tried to regain your composure as Thomas carefully pulled his fingers out of you, resting his hand on your thigh, as he studied your expression. Your face was flushed bright red, and you looked utterly spent.

"How are you feeling, Love?" he asked softly, his voice thick with concern.

You blinked dazedly up at him and nodded slowly. "I...I'm okay, I think," you finally answered, your voice still trembling slightly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Thomas smiled at you and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good," he said simply before standing up, leaving your side for a moment.

You watched him through hooded eyes as he walked towards the en-suite bathroom, before returning with a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. His touch was tender, caring and you ought to ask whether you had indeed wet yourself , but you couldn't summon the words. He then threw the washcloth into a nearby hamper before reclaiming his prominent position on your bed.

"Don't be embarrassed, Love. That's completely natural," Thomas murmured softly as he traced the curve of your cheek with the pad of his thumb, smiling down at your amazed expression.

"I've just never... felt anything like that before," you admitted shyly, feeling just slightly overwhelmed by how strong your reaction had been.

"It wasn't bad, though. In fact, I think I might like it," you added, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at your uncle. "Do you think I could make you feel that good too?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked up at your uncle with wide eyes.

"I am sure you can, but not tonight, Love. Tonight was all about you," Thomas replied, his voice gentle and soothing. "There is no need to rush things, we have all the time in the world," he added affectionately, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead once more.

"Now, why don't you have a rest and we can revisit this tomorrow if you like," Thomas suggested, as he tucked the blankets around you, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You watched him as he turned off the lights and left your bedroom, before letting your heavy eyelids fall closed and slipping into a peaceful sleep.

T

ags:

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[mrsparrasblog]

Take Me to Church

Summary: John MacTavish, the black sheep of his traditional chatolic family, hides his polyamorous relationship with his boyfriend Simon and you their pregnant plus-size girlfriend from his judgmental relatives. When you visit his family while being 9 months pregnant you need to face the reality of his cruel family.

Normaly I think his parents are the most supportive folks but this idea popped up in my head.

TW: Pregnancy, mention of labour, mention of homophobia, fat phobia and strong catholic beliefs, has a happy end

John MacTavish was always the black sheep of his family, and for most of his adult life, he was okay with it. Seeing his family only three times a year made him endure the hate he got from his brothers. In their humble opinion, he was wasting his life; a career in the military wasn’t sustainable. He would risk his life for what? For no wife to come home to and no bairn. If they had seen his single-room bachelor apartment in Glasgow, they would cringe even more. Moving to Glasgow was another thing they disapproved of. He could have lived on the farm like every other MacTavish, crowded with all his nephews. He really loved them, but coming back from every deployment to help on the farm left him with no freedom and several set-up dates with "proper" Scottish girls.

If it had been his grandma’s choice, he’d marry a thin, catholic Scottish girl. And despite the girls being absolutely beautiful, it just wasn’t what he wanted. John MacTavish only had four wants in his life, and his family could only respect one of them (the want for a good whiskey). Becoming a Military Captain wasn’t one of them, dating his Lieutenant (coming out as BI would be an early grave for his grandparents and dad), and his fourth want was you, the beautiful, soft girl who made him and his Lieutenant go crazy. His family would have approved of you being a girl, but you being an atheist, not from Scotland, a plus-sized girl (which he and Simon absolutely adored), and you being in a relationship with both of them at the same time, would be another matter. Sometimes he laughed thinking about what would scare his family more: him being bi, only dating soft, curvy women, being in a poly relationship, or dating two "foreigners." He decided the poly thing would be the final death blow for his family.

So he hid this side of himself for years, hurting himself and, more importantly in his eyes, hurting you and Simon. Both of you tried hard not to act hurt when you spent another Christmas without him because he needed to attend his family gatherings without his dark secret.

The thing about secrets is they can never be kept, especially if his secret was crying in his strong arms with the famous device with two lines in your hands. “Johnny, what am I gonna do?” you sobbed while he tried everything to ease your mind. He knew it was his, always knew. Simon couldn’t be the dad; he had decided as soon as he was 18 to go to the doctors and take the responsibility to never have children.

The first months of the pregnancy were beautiful despite all the throwing up. When you thought you had two guard dogs before the pregnancy, you were so wrong. You didn’t even know that people could get so protective. Simon was attached to your hip every second he wasn’t on deployment, shooting death glares at anyone who even dared to look at you. Johnny didn’t allow you to clean or cook. “Won't let ma pregnant girl cook. What kind of lad do you think I am?” Johnny huffed as you complained about being pregnant and not sick. Even the sex got better; you were living the life with your two perfect boyfriends.

To his surprise, Simon was happy about the news. A child wasn’t something he thought was in his cards, but with you and Johnny, it could be possible. Even if he had the fear that the baby would only accept Johnny as his dad, you immediately told him that he was an idiot—the child would see him as the dad he was. "Who cares about fucking biology?"

Until your last weeks of pregnancy, when it was finally time to drop the bomb on Johnny’s parents. You wanted grandparents and uncles for your baby so badly. In the end, you regretted your decision.

Scotland, Kingussie

You wore a cute sundress, one of the only things that still fitted you since the pregnancy. You looked radiant; pregnancy suited you. And Johnny’s hand in yours, waiting for his parents to open the door. Johnny told you only half the truth when he said his parents were happy to meet you. They were, they just didn’t know half of it. And you were long asleep when Johnny and Simon had a fight about him finally telling his parents about him and that he mattered too. This didn’t help you prepare for what would happen once you entered the cozy farm in Scotland.

The door opened, and an older woman hugged Johnny immediately. “We missed you, my sweet boy. Show me the lovely lass you brought home.” One glance at you was enough to make her gasp. “Dear God, you’re pregnant!” Her blue eyes scrutinized you. To her credit, she really tried to hide her disgust, not wanting to judge you. “Is it yours, son?”

“Mom, of course it’s mine.”

“Well, congratulations.”

She walked inside the house while you and Johnny removed your shoes. Both of you fell into an awkward silence. “Johnny, what the fuck was that?”

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. They’re a bit catholic, but they mean well, I promise.”

“Johnny…”

“Please, give them a small chance, and then we can leave whenever you want.”

You sat down at the enormous table. Fourteen pairs of blue eyes stared at you like you were a foreign alien invading their beloved home.

“So, you’re Johnny’s lass?” his father asked gruffly.

“Yes, Johnny and I have been dating for four years,” you smiled softly. Simon and Johnny were the best four years of your life.

“Four years, so I assume that bairn is yours, Johnny?”

“Of course it’s his,” you snapped, offended that he even asked. You would never cheat on Simon and Johnny. There wasn’t even a reason—the relationship and the sex were perfect.

“I didn’t talk to you, lass. I asked my son.”

“Dad, of course it’s mine.”

“So, you’re telling me that you compromised that poor girl?”

“Compromised?” you asked, confused.

“Not even English by her lack of vocabulary,” his grandfather chimed in.

“I told you, Johnny, you can’t just let your urges win. Look at you, knocking that poor woman up and not even asking for her hand in pòsadh,” his father gripped the table, trying to calm himself down.

“Do you know how much shame you bring to this family, Johnny? I would have given you your great-grandma’s ring, but no, you decided to take the MacTavish name even further into ruin. We accepted all your poor choices, lad, but now you’ve got a non-Scottish girl knocked up without any wedlock.”

“It’s not like the ring would have fit on her fat finger anyway,” his brother mocked, and that was Johnny’s final straw. He grabbed your hand, ready to leave.

“I won’t bother you with my shame anymore. Come, mo leannan.”

“Please, Johnny, stay. I promise Dad and Grandpa won’t say a word. We just never heard of you having a girlfriend, and now she’s pregnant. It’s a big shock.”

Johnny wanted to protest, but you really wanted your baby to have grandparents to love her. You whispered in Johnny’s ear that you needed to stay, at least try it for Sophia’s sake.

Another choice you regretted as soon as you saw haggis on your plate. “Johnny, what’s this?”

“I’m sorry, mo leannan. I told them you’re vegetarian,” he said apologetically.

“It’s good for the baby, lass. At least try it before you mock it,” she said, and you hated yourself for being a people-pleaser because the minute you tasted it, you ran to the toilet, throwing it up.

“That was a tad dramatic.”

“I get it, lass. When I was pregnant with my cute Johnny, I couldn’t hold anything in. Do you already have a name?” His mother really tried to make amends, giving you a bit of slack while his other family members couldn’t.

“Yes, we thought about Sophia.”

“That’s not a Scottish name,” his mother’s tone was full of disappointment.

“You cheated on John!” his grandpa started to scream at you.

“What?”

“The MacTavish family has never born a girl. Never.”

“Grandpa, you better shut your mouth.”

“How dare you talk this way to me in my own house!”

“Mo leannan, start the car already. We’re leaving.”

You went as fast as your swollen pregnant legs could carry you, trying to close your ears to the conversation.

“You won’t see my bairn. You disrespected the fucking love of my life. Who cares if she isn’t Scottish, or not Catholic, or fat? I fucking love her like this. She is the most intelligent, funny, beautiful woman on earth, and I’m going to have at least three babies with her, and you won’t see any of them. Or me. And by the way, I also fuck a man too.” He ignored the screams of his grandfather, how he was disowned, the pleading of his mother to rethink his choice. All he needed was to get back to you, the baby, and drive you to Simon, his perfect family.

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. I should have done this years ago.”

“I just want to go home, Johnny. I’ve had enough.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to be mad at him or thankful for protecting you and your baby like this. But before you could decide on that, your shoes were already soaked. “Johnny, the water broke.”

“Yeah, I’ll fix it at home.”

“What?”

"Well, I don’t have a screwdriver here, and I won’t ask my dad for one."

"Why do you need a screwdriver?"

"To fix the car. You said the water broke; you meant the leak, right? Simon was already on it, but I guess it’s opened again."

"No, Johnny, my fucking water broke."

He stared at you in horror before he scooped you up and started to run. "Where are you running, Johnny?"

"To the hospital."

"We have a bloody car."

"But it’s leaking."

"Johnny, I’m leaking, not the bloody car," you screamed in pain after one of your first contractions.

"Fucking hell, I can bring that baby. I helped a cow with labor; it’s the same, right?"

"Johnny, you’re going to drive me to a fucking hospital. I’m not some highland cow."

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

After 16 hours of painful labor (MacTavish babies are huge), your sweet girl was finally born, and Johnny didn’t even faint, much to Simon’s surprise, who almost caused six car crashes on the way to you. And now you were lying in bed, barely awake, looking at your tiny bundle of joy in Simon’s burly arms. It was enough to make a grown man cry. Kyle, Johnny, and Simon were just amazed by the baby.

The door went wide open. "How is my girl?" John ran towards your bed, looking to see if you were injured, hurt, and alive, holding you tight in his arms. He didn’t even look once at Sophia; he was just too afraid about you. "Sorry, I was afraid something happened to you with these muppets." You always wished to experience a father’s love, and right now you realized you didn’t need to have Johnny’s dad or grandpa for this—you had Captain Price.

"It’s okay, Dad," and this was enough to make Price bawl his eyes out. He always wanted a daughter, but infertility was a cruel curse on him. He kissed your forehead. "Let me look at my granddaughter." He accepted this role without hesitation, when you saw your baby between her two loving fathers, her uncle Kyle, and her Grandpa Price, you knew she already had the family you were searching for.

A/N: I don't approve of anything his family said if this isn't clear, I was almost in the same situation (without pregnancy) meeting the strongly prejudiced grandma of my partner. So please don't come at me with hate, already have enough of it in my asks :)

[elodieunderglass]

Re: your tags on the fungus and petrochemicals:

Excuse me, bramble wine? That sounds absolutely divine, how lucky you are! I hope you enjoyed it (and that I get to make/taste this one day)

(In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/757191605386084352/oh-heavens-im-sorry-i-dont-remember-this-at I had to apologise for not being especially coherent in my response to an extraordinarily kind and friendly person as I was several days into a group camping, and had touched too much grass to be coherent, setting aside the bramble wine.)

The camping expedition consisted of seven+ families with children who all know each other extremely well and are growing up in a feral pack together that averages about 30 members. The pack forms at the conjunction of any five children, and therefore often exists in multiple places at once; a mini version can be assembled from as few as two of the core families, but when you have seven of the core, the pack becomes its own entity. For example, exhibiting a fascinating reflection of the hunting behavior of ancestral humans, ten of them together once managed to stalk, hunt and bring down a dragon costume performer at a local festival and sit on it in a few seconds when the adults weren’t looking. They had the light of the hunt in their eyes and they were GOING to have that dragon. Anyway this is not conducive to clear and accurate science communication at the best of times, especially since the usual reason that the pack manages to slip the leash is because the grownups are ordering pints.

For this camping expedition there was one family I didn’t know, but they live on a boat and we could vibe. They were the ones who brought the bramble wine. They were the people who sometimes evolve into Whiskey Hamishes. The bramble wine was made from foraged blackberries, and had been stored in a box on the roof of the boat (so essentially: outside) since 2019. The bottles were covered in rotten leaves and spiderwebs. This is not how you usually treat wine. Even home-brew. Even hedgerow. This is a recipe for converting free materials into as much alcohol as possible without interference.

The wine itself was similar to dark port, very heavy and thick, headachy around the edges. The alcohol percentage was estimated in the double digits. It is hard to explain but the dark black-purple color had no red in it. It was like ink.

Then, after coming into your campsite and kicking most of the party around lightly, it kissed you on the mouth one last time with a mouthful of blackberries and wandered off.

I’ve never had a hangover (hobbit liver) but I didn’t spend much time in dalliance with it. a lot of dads were pretty flat the next morning, but, to be completely fair to them, they DID rouse themselves to take the kids swimming in the river, where they (the dads) laid around recovering like beautiful crocodiles. Thus, all they had to do was lie in the cool mud while children rolled over them like puppies.

Bramble wine!

[xxwhiskeyxx]

Heacanons w/ Whiskey  Random Blurbs

I’m sitting in the library at my college, I’m done with my work for the day and I’m procrastinating writing today’s trope because I am the king of procrastination.

ANWAYS

As many people have come to headcanon, Mounty grows plants around his horns and in his hair whenever he is focused on something or thinking of someone, also gives people plant nicknames. The way he comes up with them is seeing what flowers or plants grow whenever he thinks of a specific person. Such as with Swiss, Edelweiss, Spider Lillys, and Hydrangeas tend to sprout whenever the Multi pops into his mind, or Iris’s and Nightshade appear when Aether was helping him in the greenhouse for the first time.

Dew has chronic dry mouth, which is funny because when he had more Water ghoul traits, he had a problem with over salivating.(Poor baby was forced into a ritual by upper Clergy members to force his Fire to be his almost exclusive element and took away about 80% of all his Water traits, more on this in an upcoming trope) Now this is why he almost always has a drink on hand, or he is constantly coughing due to his mouth being so dry

Swiss is the Just Dance king but the one song he can never seem to beat is surprisingly the Cotton Eye Joe dance simply because he wants to do the proper line dance and it infuriates him that they changed it

Sunshine, Swiss, and Dew are known as the Chaos Triplets and are absolutely not allowed to be alone with each other without supervision, last time they managed to sneak away and they created a bomb in the kitchen that they set and exploded in Nihil’s office, their reasoning? “He’s mean to Papa!”

Cumulus is actually pretty chaotic herself; she is known to set up pranks around the ghoul den for unsuspecting ghouls to fall into. Water balloon filled with shaving cream set just right so that it falls and splatters on Aether when he walks into the kitchen, Poppers under toilet seats (Mountain once fell in and had to pried out by Aether and Swiss cause his legs got stuck upward), she once even switched out the milk with baking soda water and made Dew throw up when he had chugged it straight from the carton.

Aether needs to wear glasses for reading and all the other ghouls swoon when they find him perched in a chair, dad stance with the knee crossed over the other, with his reading glasses on his nose. Swiss will typically dramatically fall into his lap and beg for him to read to him.

Rain has days where he is very touch-adverse and the others have learned to ask before touching him for the first time in the morning, Cumulus is a slight exception because he can never be disgusted by her hugs. (Quick head and shoulder are his accepted form of affection these days, also finger touches)

Cirrus has somehow managed to wrangle Dew into makeup and skirts quite a few times, always showing him off and calling him her “Pretty Girl” which always makes his knees weak, and he will happily chirp and trill as she applies the makeup.

Copia has been accepted as basically a member of their back and they WILL go into his room and force him into a ghoul pile if they feel he’s been too distant lately, usually initiated by Dew and surpringly Rain

Mountain is quite possibly the touchiest of the ghouls, always patting someone on the head or hugging someone if he feels like it. He’s also been known to drag people into his lap, shove his face into their back, and forcefully cuddle them if he’s had a bad day, Swiss, Cumulus, Sunshine, and Dew tend to volunteer for Mountain cuddle duty if it seems he’s particularly snippy, cause usually a good couple minutes of snuggles will bring back their happy Mounty.

Swiss actually can play the saxophone, along with trumpet, piano, trombone, piccolo, harmonica, and drums, he’s aiming to learn everything possible but he’s limited to what he can buy on amazon and what he finds around the band storage closet

[muntitled]

Oh my!! I just read your lee know req and god please spare me my knees are weak. Can i request a lee know dilf? I’m sure its perfect!! 💗 btw i love you take lots of rest! Mwah!

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating a single dad who coincidentally happens to be your next-door neighbor does not come without its fair share of hardships (and fun)

Warnings: Language, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Single Dad AU, Secret Relationship, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), implied age gap, Brat!TamerMinho, Bratty!Reader, Oral, Dacryphilia, Needy!Minho, Slight DDLG, Dom/Sub undertones

Seriously so domestic, you have been warned <3

Dating had always been difficult, and up until very recently, you had been perfectly content as an unwilling participant of crush culture. Seldom men have grappled your attention, and the ones that do are often doomed to give you the ick. Every man was either too loud and obnoxious or too nonchalant and non-empathetic. You had given up on dating altogether until fate sunk its talons into your love life.

What're you wearing?

The message came at the dead of night while you lay supine on your couch. Minho rarely sent text messages, preferring to call or email like the archaic man he was. It sent you crazy with admiration.

Wouldn't you like to know?

You grinned as you sent the message back, chewing anxiously at the ends of your sleeves like you were a child awaiting their scolding.

Yes I would. That's why I asked.

Almost immediately, you could tell Minho was needy. He was naturally very blatant and authoritarian, but he became even more so when he found himself slipping into arousal. You could picture him through the screen, and the mental image had your stomach warming with delight: his hair shaggy from his hands running through it all day. His dress shirt, unbuttoned. And perhaps maybe he was reclined backwards on his big leather couch. Nursing is phone in one hand a whiskey tumbler in the other.

What are you wearing.

Comes Minho's message a second time. This time, the tone felt far more demanding despite being the exact same words. You immediately knew that if you would not comply quickly, you might be in for a punishment. Oh how you adored punishments.

Wrong punctuation. It's 'what are you wearing?' No full stop. And you have an adult job? Smh...

You're so undeniably tense that you fear your jaw might crack from the pressure that it's clenched and you hold your phone close to your screen. For 60 agonizing seconds there is not response and you can definitely picture the look on Minho's face with his tongue poking tje inside of his cheek while he shook his head and murmered a quiet and appalled "진싸" to himself.

Come over. His next text reads. The kid's asleep. Come over.

You dreaded taking the very short walk to your next door neighbor and boyfriend's apartment and yet, the opportunity to piss Minho off even more is just too difficult to pass up. A slow smile grace's over your face as you send back an 'aye aye captain' before slipping on your slippers to make the short journey to his apartment.

Before your fist even hits the surface of the wood, the front door is ripped open and Minho's pulling you inside. "You've been holding out on me?" He grumbles, before forcing kisses down the side of your neck. "Why?"

In a flurry of trying to kick your shoes off at the front door as Minho leads you both to the couch. You try to control Minho's frantic groping at your sides and try to ignore his bulge pressing against your thigh. When pulling you onto his lap, you're not quite sure what to make of your thoughts and emotions.

All you feel is a sharp pinch on the skin underneath your woolen sweater and you yelp, "What the hell-"

"Answer me?" He says, glaring at up you with an aura of seriousness. Your legs ached as you straddled Minho's lap, and conversation seems impossible. "I wanna know why you suddenly think it's okay to start being a fucking bra-

"You brought it!? I can't believe you actually brought it-"

A small, excited gasp cuts through what was to be the most embarrassing scolding of your life.

Like the breaking of an ancient spell; you and Minho push back from each other on the couch, you detangle your limbs and you keep a distance. You're almost grateful for the little boy padding into the living room, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

Minho watches his son run towards you on the couch with furrowed eyebrows. Nothing but confusion swims across his darkened irises, and you shrug slightly before uncovering the thing that has apparently been in your hands this whole time. Minho had been so clouded by his own lust that he barely saw the children's book you had clasped in your hands. He watches how you and his son exchange pleasantries like long-lost friends. The both of you practically beaming.

He is only able to intervene on your very important conversation when he notices you handing his son the book.

"Woah- hey, what's going on?" Minho's hand instinctively goes to the back of his son's head as he looks down at you curiously, "What's this?" Minho asks.

"The reason I'm here," you make awkward little jazz hands which Minho's son finds very amusing before you clear your throat. You give Minho an inconspicuous wink.

"Your son... he-"

"I just can't stand how you read bedtime stories to me, Dad."

Minho swings his head downards, his eyes wide.

"You said you liked how I read-"

"No, Dad," theres a roll of his 4 year old eyes and you smile, "You like how you read. Its not very fun for me-"

And that's how you spent a majority of the evening reading a bedtime story for a sleepy little boy until he finally slipped away. You didn't mind it. The story was buying you some time from what you knew was a very aggravated Minho, and all you could do was chuckle to yourself as you read.

This was all so incredibly short-lived because the kid eventually did fall asleep, and you could feel your insides twist as you closed his bedroom door, making your way back to the living room. Every step you took felt like you were skinking deeper and deeper into the earth, and you swallowed very thickly when you rounded the corner to find Minho staring idly at the wall. He was slouched slightly on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned even further.

As you rounded the couch, you spied an empty whiskey tumbler on the coffee table. You shiver.

"Had fun, then?" Minhos hisses almost petulantly.

You roll your eyes as you lower yourself onto the couch beside him.

"If only you weren't such an incompetent bedtime reader then I wouldn't-"

But his hand was already squeezing at the base if yojr throat and you gasp, raising and lowering your body as your lips parted in what was very clearly excitement.

"You and this fucking mouth-"

"A-Are you going to punish me?" Minho regards you for a split second underneath the shadow of his lashes before he breaks out into a chuckle. You tilt your head in confusion, which is only tripled when his hand goes from your throat to the top of your head. "Good girls aren't supposed to like their punishments, are they?"

He knew what diction to use to have you slipping into subspace, and all you're able to do is nod as you shift closer to him. You lick your lips, so completely rattled with tension of all the endless possibilities. Would he spank you? No, perhaps that would cause far too much noise... would he edge you-

"Only slutsnlook forward to their punishments, you know that?" Your nipples tighten against the fabric of your sweater and you nearly moan again. Minho's hand on your head is so heavy, so unmistakably manly it has you spiraling.

"And punishments are no fun if you enjoy them." The hand on your head gets heavier and heavier.

"Minho-"

"Knees." It's all he says before you're toppling to the ground at his feet. Your heart is pounding out of the confines of your very chest, and you lick your lips suddenly feeling so incredibly dehydrated as Minho drags you to his knees. He sits back, letting his head rest on the back of the couch as he says, "You know what to do, don't you?"

The weight of your punishment suddenly hits you tenfold as you bring your shaky hands to undo Minho's belt. It wasn't a 'punishment' at all. Not in the way you wanted.

Instead, Minho was quite content letting you pull out his cock and service him. Making you wait as long as he was forced to.

Minho's jaw clenches when you pull his cock out of his briefs and the sound has your bottom lip trembling.

"P-Please, Minho,"

"Shut up," he mumbles into the air with his head still thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut.

Consequently, you nod into the open air as you spit into your hand and begin to pump his hard length with every bit of precision. You can feel your clit beg for some kind of friction to the point that your need becomes painful.

"You're too slow," he whispers, clenching his eyes shut in frustration, "Too fucking slow." You speed up the pace, watching his lips fall open and feeling utterly intoxicated by all the pretty sounds Minho makes for him all from the both of your hands wrapped around his cock.

"F-Fuck-" You twist your wrist, suddenly spurred on by his reaction.

"I don’t want your hands," Minho huffs, "I want your mouth" and you bend your head dutifully before closing your warm mouth around the head of his cock. Minho's head immediately snaps up from the couch, and he is completely and utterly wrecked. He digs his fingers into your hair, forcing you down onto his cock, "Make a mess. You know I like it when you make a mess, Dove," You're practically whining around his cock and he hisses.

Trails of spit and precum drip out of your mouth along with nasty tears that run down your face, reddening your eyes. Minho's cock twitches in your mouth at the very sight of you. "Look at you," he whispers, "Fucking look at what a mess you are for me," You're nodding frantically, his large cock hitting the back of your throat now-

"I'm gonna fucking cum in that pretty mouth of yours and yojre gonna take it, aren't you, baby?" He frantically moves your braids out of face, all the more the see your completely fucked out expression despite not even receiving any stimulation. It has him lifting his hips to rut into your mouth and just as you choke, Minho's voice cracks, "Shut a good girl," he praises as he looses control, "Shut as good fucking- FUCK-" His cum fills the back of your throat at an alarming rage and yourenforced to clench your toes and swallow, there was no other option. He pats down your head lovingly as his hips snap up against you and you whimperbsnd moan around his cock, only prolonging his orgasm

"God, you're so good to me, baby," he whispers, coming down from his high but not without any aftershocks, "You're so fucking good to me,"

<3

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

[earthlyangelbby]

Thank God for shitty landlords and old heaters.

Sfw!

Fluff so much fluff

2k words sorry I just wanna kiss him!!!

Mechanic Eddie x Server Y/N

Pls be kind I don't write often!! Also sorry for any mistakes I'm dyslexic anyways enjoy!

Part 2 Dungeon Master journal Confessional

The wind howled outside, a relentless fury that whipped snow across the trailer park. You tugged your scarf tighter around your neck, feeling the chill seep into your bones. Your heater gave out hours ago, and now your pipes were frozen solid. No amount of blankets, space heaters, or hot water bottles could fix it. The cold felt like it had taken over your whole trailer.

You hadn’t seen much of Eddie lately. Life had gotten in the way. He was busy shadowing an older mechanic at the garage, learning the ropes, and you were stuck serving coffee and burgers at the diner. Both of you were still young in your early twenties, but adult life had a way of pulling you in different directions.

But it was cold, and you needed a warm place. And there was one person you knew who might not mind taking you in.

You grabbed your jacket, pulled on your boots, and made your way to the other end of the lot where Eddie’s trailer sat, a little out of place among the others. When you knocked, you weren’t sure what you expected, but the door opened almost immediately. There he was, looking exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him same wild hair, same Metallica shirt, same flannel.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite server!” Eddie greeted with that signature grin of his, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Y/N What’s got you out here in this storm? You look like you’ve been standing out there for hours.”

You shrugged, trying to act casual, even though the cold had your teeth chattering. “My heater’s out, pipes are frozen. I was hoping I could crash here for a while, if that’s okay Eds?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Come on in  before you freeze your little self to death.”

You stepped inside, and the warmth immediately hit you like a wave. Eddie closed the door behind you, locking it. You could already feel your body starting to thaw as he tossed your coat onto the back of a chair.

“You want something to drink? Hot chocolate, coffee, whiskey...?” He raised an eyebrow playfully, but you could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he looked you over. “You look like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

You rubbed your arms, trying to warm up faster. “Hot chocolate sounds good. I think I’ve had enough coffee for today.”

Eddie grinned and headed toward the small kitchen area. “Coming right up. You’re lucky you showed up. I was just about to settle in for some much needed peace and quiet.”

You sank onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh of relief as the warmth from the trailer began to seep into your bones. Eddie had always had a way of making everything feel like it was going to be okay, even when things were chaotic.

You glanced around at the familiar clutter in his trailer band posters on the walls, tools strewn across the table, a guitar leaning against the couch. It was Eddie’s world, still the same as it had been when you were kids.

Eddie returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, handing you one before sitting down beside you. The tension in the room wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was noticeable. You hadn’t seen much of Eddie since high school, and the distance between you two had grown in those years. Back then, after that ridiculous “seven minutes in heaven” dare, you’d stayed friends. But adulthood had a way of pulling people apart, and somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten busy with life responsibilities, jobs, the everyday grind.

Still, every now and then, Eddie would swing by the diner where you worked. He’d always come in for coffee, sit at the counter, and shoot the breeze with you. Sometimes, it felt like nothing had changed, and other times, it was like there was a lifetime between the two of you.

“So, how’s the diner these days?” Eddie asked, settling back into the couch with his own mug. “Still slinging coffee and making tips off the morning rush?”

You laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah, pretty much. Same old grind. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. At least I don’t have to wear a uniform or anything. I just throw on my apron and pretend like I have my life together.”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a *dream* job.” His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint you remembered. “What about you? Still fixing up that bike of yours? I thought for sure you’d be a full-time mechanic by now, with all that grease under your nails.”

You could tell he was teasing, but there was a quiet pride in his voice too. Eddie had always been someone who preferred hands-on work—wrenching on cars, fixing up old engines, that kind of thing. These days, though, he wasn’t quite the mechanic he’d hoped to be. He was still shadowing an older guy at the shop, learning the ropes.

“Nah, not yet. I’m still learning the ropes,” Eddie said, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m just the guy who gets handed all the crap work right now—changing oil, fixing brakes, things like that. But I like it. I can actually see progress when I finish a job. It’s better than just standing around, y’know?”

You smiled, appreciating the way Eddie spoke about his work. There was a certain quiet satisfaction there, a grounded sense of purpose that hadn’t been there when he was younger, just throwing himself into whatever came next. “You’ll get there. Just takes time.”

Eddie’s gaze softened a little as he looked at you. “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, what about you? You still trying to figure out your next move?”

You sighed, pulling your legs up underneath you on the couch. “I don’t know. Some days, it feels like I’m stuck. Like... I’m just going through the motions. Not sure if I want to be stuck serving coffee and pancakes for the next twenty years.”

Eddie leaned forward, his eyes locking with yours. “I get it. Life’s been... a little overwhelming, huh?” He reached out and tapped the edge of your mug, making it clink gently against the table. “But you’re still here, sweetheart. You’re making it work.”

You chuckled softly at the nickname, something so familiar about it despite the years that had passed since you last heard it. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just wish I knew what comes next.”

Eddie’s expression softened, and for a moment, you could see the old Eddie, the one who used to make everything feel a little less complicated. “You’ll figure it out. And, hey, you’re always welcome here if you need to get away for a bit.”

You smiled, feeling a warm glow spread through you that had nothing to do with the heat from the chocolate. “Thanks, Eddie. I needed this.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Anytime, sweetheart. You know that.”

For a moment, the conversation faded into the background as you both sat there, comfortable in the silence. But then, without warning, a thought crossed your mind. A memory. A teasing remark you’d made earlier, years ago, about that ridiculous dare in ninth grade.

You turned to Eddie with a sly smile. “Hey, do you remember that stupid ‘seven minutes in heaven’ dare we did at the sleepover?”

Eddie smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I remember. You and me, stuck in a closet together while everyone else was out there doing... whatever they were doing.” He leaned back on the couch, eyes narrowing with playful intent. “You know, I think I was the one who got *stuck* with the lousy kisser.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh, no. That was *definitely* you. I was trying to keep it together, but you... You practically headbutted me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’ll have you know, I was just... *testing* the waters. You, sweetheart, were just too nervous to make it anything more than awkward.”

You leaned in a little closer, giving him a teasing look. “I don’t know. Maybe you just weren’t that good. We were young, but maybe... maybe you still *haven’t* figured it out.”

Eddie chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Is that a challenge?”

Without answering, you set your mug down on the coffee table, your gaze lingering on his lips. The space between you suddenly felt charged with something old, something that had always been there, buried beneath years of silence. Eddie didn’t move at first, but when he did, it was slow, his hand gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

And then, finally, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was nothing like the awkward, clumsy thing it had been all those years ago. This time, it was soft, sure, and full of a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat in the room. Eddie kissed you slowly, as if testing the waters, his lips lingering against yours until you kissed him back with the same intensity.

When you pulled back, breathless, there was a moment of silence. Eddie’s gaze held yours, his hand still lingering gently at your cheek, thumb grazing your skin like he was afraid if he moved, the moment would disappear. He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated. You could see the emotions shifting in his eyes—the hesitance, the vulnerability, and something else, a softness that felt too delicate to name.

You were the first to break the silence, your voice barely more than a whisper. “That....wasn’t terrible.”

A flicker of his old grin returned, though this time it seemed tempered by something more real. “Glad I passed,” he murmured, voice low, his hand finally slipping down from your cheek to hold yours instead, his fingers lacing with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He squeezed your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth radiate through you, driving away the last traces of the cold that had followed you inside. In his presence, with his fingers intertwined with yours, the trailer felt like the safest place you’d been in a long time.

“I’ve missed this,” you said softly, surprising yourself with the confession. The years you’d spent drifting in and out of each other’s lives had left a hollow spot you’d learned to ignore. But being here now, with him, made you realize how much you’d missed him.

Eddie’s expression softened, and he nodded, as if he’d been feeling the same thing. “I know,” he replied, a trace of sadness in his voice. “Sometimes, I’d sit at that counter at the diner, watching you work, wondering why the hell we let ourselves drift apart.” His eyes searched yours, open and earnest. “But... maybe it’s not too late, sweetheart.”

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words, both soothing and startling in their honesty. Your heart raced as you realized he’d been thinking about this as much as you had—about those years, those lost moments, the quiet longing that you’d buried somewhere deep. But now, that longing felt closer, tangible.

“What are you saying, Eddie?” you asked, barely able to get the words out, afraid of breaking the fragile hope between you.

He took a breath, the smile slipping as he looked at you with a seriousness you’d rarely seen from him. “I guess I’m saying... I don’t want to be just the guy who stops by the diner once in a while. Not anymore.” He paused, his hand tightening around yours. “I want to be... there for you. Not just tonight, but when you’re tired from work, when the heater’s out, when... you’re trying to figure out what comes next.”

You swallowed, his words filling the spaces you hadn’t realized were so empty. No one had ever offered you that before this quiet, steady presence, a promise that didn’t need to be flashy or grand but was everything you needed.

“So” you said, voice wavering a bit, “you’re saying you want to be my heating repairman and my taste-tester for bad coffee?”

Eddie chuckled, the sound rumbling through the cozy silence between you. “Yeah, Y/N that’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes intent. “And maybe... maybe we can figure out the rest together. If that’s something you’d want.”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that you couldn’t contain. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, leaning closer again, letting your forehead rest against his. “I’d really like that, Eddie.”

For a moment, you stayed like that, your breaths mingling in the quiet, the world outside forgotten as the warmth between you grew. Finally, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a glint of mischief.

“And for the record,” you said, grinning, “I take back what I said about your kissing skills. They’ve... definitely improved.”

Eddie laughed, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he whispered, and his lips found yours once more, filling the cold night with a warmth that stayed long after the snow stopped falling.

Let me know what you think!!! Thanks for reading this far omg ❤️

[drak3n]

THE ONE-NIGHT STAND

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: why did this hookup affect you in a way you couldn’t stop thinking about him months later?

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, slight hair-pulling, two adults being terrible at handling feelings, slow burn, alcohol

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you’re probably wondering why i wrote a letter to you. what we had wasn’t that deep, after all.”

“lady in black over there paid for your next drink.”

if there was one word to describe hiromi, it had to be… oblivious. terribly so. it wasn’t like he ever had much time for dating and exploring things, having been occupied with college for many years and climbing his way up the ladder until he could finally call himself a lawyer.

now that he was one, he despised his job. it brought him nothing but trouble and negative thoughts. who the hell had fooled him into thinking it would be a cool job?

perhaps his parents.

the man with spiky, dark hair accepted the whiskey and coke mixture the bartender had slid over on the counter, and he didn’t turn around to check who had really paid for his damn drink until he took a sip first. as a grown ass man, he wasn’t going to take a 180 turn at the speed of light and make a fool of himself.

and oh boy, when he did turn around to check for said lady in black, he nearly took a double take. except for, his hooded gaze stayed plastered on you. unable to drag his dark eyes away from you.

leaned against the wall on the other side of the bar, you were a sight. out of all the laughing and blabbering people dressed in all kinds of odd colors that would usually be more striking to the eye, it was your — he didn’t want to call it normal — choice of clothing that struck him.

short, skintight dress that left little to one’s imagination. yet, his thoughts were running with all kinds of things, gears shifting and turning faster than they ever did before.

it was only his second drink of the night, it wasn’t the alcohol speaking. and it wasn’t also the fatigue speaking. it was him, unfiltered and raw.

you gave him a coy smile and raised your half-empty glass, not even listening to what your friends had to say, wanting nothing but to talk to that man you had bought a drink for.

while higuruma might have started sweating under his suit — he was lucky he had left his jacket at home, forcing him to roll the sleeves of his white shirt up — he didn’t show it. his expression stayed indifferent, face as stoic as ever as he stayed right where he was.

he hadn’t smiled back, only having opted to raise his glass while his unoccupied hand was shoved into the pocket of his slacks. he probably had no idea how mouth-watering that sight was to you. you nearly felt your thighs clenching together out of instinct.

your friends started picking up on where your glance and attention had been wandering to, which followed by them trying to force you to strike up a conversation with him. you didn’t see any reason for it, taking his lack of action after your first step as a sign of disinterest.

however, when you approached the bar by yourself to order one more drink for yourself, the bartender told you it had already been paid for.

“who?” you questioned, which made the woman behind the bar shoot you a grin. “handsome guy in a suit,” was her curt response before she walked off to tend to other drunkards.

you weren’t very slick, so the first thing you did was whip your head to where he had been standing the entire time.

he was already looking at you.

you couldn’t help but start sweating even more than before when he started to approach you. his facial expression didn’t look awfully friendly, so you highly doubted he was going to talk to you.

but he did.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“there are some things i forgot in the heat of the moment, but one of the things i can still remember very clearly — apart from the night we both shared together — was how respectful you were.”

neither of you two realized how much time had passed. your friends were forgotten, feeling like leaving you to hiromi wouldn’t be a bad idea as you had been in need of good male company for quite a long time.

alas, a good fuck.

you didn’t drink much more alcohol after that, equally agreeing that the atmosphere was too good to ruin it with unserious giggling and staggering. alcohol had to be one of the main causes of people fucking up things.

it was amazing how higuruma made you feel attached to the conversation despite his voiced displeasure for his job and the entire sector he worked at. what he worked as, he didn’t make clear. which made the entire conversation even more interesting.

it had been his dream to practice justice, he’d told you, but he quickly found out that it wasn’t possible during times like these. it actually saddened you to hear that.

“i’m sure you’re still incredible at your job,” you smiled at him, eyes never leaving his. there was something about him that made you feel stupidly attracted to him.

you felt like a horny teenager glancing at his features, imagining how good you’d feel under him—

a surprised sound was drawn from your lips as an arm was suddenly draped around your waist, pulling you closer to the tall lawyer. one glance to your right told you that someone had approached the bar and stepped too close to you.

the protective aura he exuded sent a tingle straight to your south. and the alcohol you had consumed the entire night helped you voice it.

you found yourself looking at hiromi whose thick eyebrows went up at the words that had spilled from your lips. “i’m afraid i missed what you just said,” he muttered, hand leaving your body when the danger was gone. you didn’t miss the way he put the previous distance between your bodies again.

now that was a man worthy to be between your legs.

so instead of chickening out, you repeated what he allegedly hadn’t heard.

“i said, i want you to fuck me.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i never had a man treat me so respectfully. i never thought it was a thing for a man to be nice. sounds stupid, right?”

it didn’t take long for both of you to arrive at your place that wasn’t too far away, thankfully so, because you could barely contain yourself from pouncing on the poor man.

he had a lot more self-control than you had, but the moment you unlocked the door to your apartment, he urged you inside gently to push you against the nearest wall.

“are you sure about this?” staring deeply into your eyes as he questioned your needs, higuruma could tell you weren’t drunk. so was he. you were both totally logical about this.

already kicking off your heels, you pulled him down to your height by his tie. “stop asking,” you panted, licking your lips as your heartbeat quickened with your overwhelming desire.

it was him who closed the gap between you two, soft lips molding together in a heated kiss as your hands wandered to his face, finding his defined cheekbones and the slightest stubble on his pointed chin.

hiromi’s large palms firmly squeezed your hips, staying respectfully distant from your other regions. you whined into the kiss at how needy his touches made you.

“hiromi… take off my dress,” you broke the kiss as you both gasped for air, and a deep hum left his lips when you turned around, exposing the zipper of the dress below your nape.

a shuddered breath was drawn from your mouth when his warm fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your neck to brush your hair aside, making you choke in surprise when he tugged at it, forcing your neck to strain.

“i couldn’t quite hear you, love.” his moist lips ghosted over the shell of your ear and you bit your lower lip. “what do you say when you want someone to do something for you?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“the only thing i could think of was how good of a partner you’d be to me. even if it was the worst timing to be thinking about that, considering i was… under you.”

it didn’t matter at this point if you had five or a hundred bodies before hiromi. because one thing was for certain.

he would remain the best fuck of your life till the end of your days.

it wasn’t just the sheer size and girth that was stretching you so painfully deliciously, but also the skill and perfection he put into every and each of his thrusts.

for a man as lethargic as him, he made sure to put all of his energy into fucking you. he didn’t ask you to move a muscle, and all you did was take the pounding he granted you with your face smushed into your pillow and your ass up.

you were lucky your moans were muffled by the fabric of your pillow, because with how good he was hitting all of the spots inside of you, you were sobbing into it. it would have been embarrassing, considering all the sounds he produced was when his hips met your ass, the squelching of when his thick cock entered and left your sopping pussy, and the grunts that left his lips.

hiromi was a sexy man. you were glad you weren’t facing him, because you were sure you’d have fallen in love with him.

“inside, please—”

you choked back a sob when higuruma slowed down, stilling his movements and catching his breath as he forced your back against his lean, muscled torso. “you want me to cum inside?” you nodded pathetically as you squirmed, moving your hips in despair to grant yourself the satisfaction you had gotten used to.

hiromi’s eyes met yours when he pressed your head against his broad shoulder with the help of a hand against your throat for leverage, and you were sure it wasn’t just your pussy throbbing at that.

you felt pathetic for cumming from only a single glance without him even moving. but at least it made him empty himself inside of you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i wasn’t thinking about it too much, but i thought that when i’d wake up, you would still be there. even if it was just a one-night-stand.”

it was inevitable for you to pass out once you two were done. the rays of sunlight that shone through your curtains were what woke you up as you cracked your eye open to get to your senses.

you were bare beneath the covers, but you were cleaned up. the thought of hiromi haven taken care of you made your insides tingle, and your eyes flew to the other side of the bed.

except, he was not there anymore. it was as if he’d never been there. he didn’t leave a single trace. and to deepen your disappointment, he hadn’t left his number or anything else for you to contact him.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you have no idea how many times i visited that bar afterwards in hopes of meeting you again.”

one glance at the bartender already told her what you had came for again. the nth time in months. at this point, she could only sigh and shake her head in pity.

“okay. this is the last time i’ve asked. promise,” you grunted. she just quirked a brow while handing you a shot. you looked like you needed it.

“you said that weeks ago.”

she was right. why the hell couldn’t you just let go?

you knew it wasn’t the sex. sure, it was mind-blowing… way more than just that. it was the desire to build a deeper connection with him. hooking up with that man wasn’t a mistake by any means…. but maybe that’s what made him disappear from the surface of the earth.

perhaps he thought you were too easy.

“hey, have you heard of this show?” the bartender was standing in front of you again, and you shook your head, unenthusiastic about what she was going to tell you. “apparently, it even brings people together who have been seperated for ages. maybe you could give it a try.”

now this piqued your interest. the width of your eyes was ridiculous, like one of a lovesick fool, which in a sense, you were.

“what’s the name of the show?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i just wanted to know if what we had was just a night of lust, or if it could have been more. that’s all i wanted.”

after sending the letter to said address of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, you were too anxious to approach your tv or any type of social media. too scared of getting an answer you weren’t going to like.

the evening of the airing where your letter was featured came and went by, but nothing happened. it wasn’t until the next few days that you realized: although you didn’t like this answer — which was none — it was the reality. it wasn’t what you wanted, but what you needed nonetheless.

now, you were ready to move on.

or, not so much. you were slumped on the barstool, staring into your drink as the jazz music playing in the background added even more to your sentimental state hours later. tonight was doomed to be terrible when you found out that the bartender was on holidays for a week, which meant you’d be on your own with your stupid thoughts.

not quite paying any attention to the silhouette sitting down on the stool next to you, your nose took a whiff of a familiar cologne. it wasn’t every day you smelled that unique men’s perfume, but perhaps it was just a coincidence—

“i got your letter.”

glancing to your right, you sighted hiromi there in all of his glory. seeing him didn’t make you choke on your spit and splutter dramatically like it happened in movies. you were frozen in your spot.

“i didn’t watch the airing. i don’t like watching shows like that.”

you stirred the half-melted glass cubes in your drink, making them clink against each other as you remained silent. if this wasn’t the road to rejection…

“what were you hoping for by sending that letter? what exactly was your intention?”

setting your glass down on the counter, you finally faced the man fully, both of your expressions deadpan. was he being serious?

“are you a lawyer or something like that?”

he paused, looking genuinely impressed at your guess as his thick brows quirked up, before a rough and husky chuckle left his lips. “what gave it away?”

“seemed like you were interviewing your client before court or something,” you laughed, “but what were you hoping for coming here today? you knew i would be here, considering you read the letter.”

hiromi leaned forward as his dark hues took in your features. he looked just as handsome as you remembered, although it had been no longer than a few months. it sure felt like forever, though.

a lopsided smile crept onto his lips as he stood up, towering over your frame. he raised a large hand to hold it out to you, which made you look at it dumbly.

“i was wondering if i could get to know said client a little better,” he murmured. a stupid grin stretched on your painted lips. “in a more formal setting, perhaps. how about dinner?”

“i’d love that, counsellor.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Time for Cheer

Warnings: non/dubcon, dysfunctional family, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: After your Christmas is ruined, you find an unlikely saviour.

Character: Jonathan Pine

Day Eight of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - finding your home away from home

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“It wasn’t the transmission, it was the fuel line,” your father snarls. 

“Then why did replacing the transmission fix the problem,” Aiden spits back. 

They’re having another of their pointless arguments. It’s more of a weighing of the egos. It’s not entirely unusual for them to spend hours trying to one up the other or prove the other wrong, but you thought Christmas might be a respite. That assumption seems foolish the more you think about it. There’s never been a good enough excuse to just stop. 

Your family has never been like other families. There are no cute matching sweaters or festive photos. The only tradition is to see who you can make feel the worst. You know better than to tell either of them to cut it out, otherwise you’ll just be drawn into their race to the bottom. 

Besides, you have bigger things to worry about. Dinner. Every year you fight to make the perfect spread and every year, something ruins it. Usually, your family. 

Last year, your dad couldn’t get over the ‘watery’ gravy and the year before that, your brother whined because someone put beans on his plate and he hates green beans. For an adult, he sure does act like the same seven-year-old brat that used to scream about bathing. 

You feel just as stagnant. The holidays are just the stamp on the year, sealing your lack of progress. Year after year and you’re still here. Still filling the hole your mother left all those years ago. You can’t even blame her. You can only blame yourself for not following her lead and running for the hills. 

Vivien arrives just as you baste the turkey and check the temperature. It’s only noon and there’s some hours to go. Your father and brother don’t stop arguing even as the churlish voices of children rise in the entryway. Your sister’s children are another obstacle to your endeavour. 

“Hey, Viv,” you say as your sister appears in the doorway. 

“Any wine?” She asks. 

“There’s beer,” you shrug. You don’t drink, she knows that. 

“Beer?” She mutters. 

“I don’t know. Dad could have some whiskey hidden in the garage--” 

“Whatever,” she huffs. 

“You can put the pies on the counter.” 

“Pies?” She echoes, “what pies?” 

You brace yourself and take a deep breath. You face her, “you said you were bringing pies.” 

“No, I said they had the pumpkin pies at the grocery, I never said I’d bring them,” she shakes her head. 

“No, you said--” 

“Why would I bring the pies? I have three brats to take care of a husband. I got enough to spend my hard-earned money on,” she sneers. 

You flinch. Hard-earned? You don’t remember the last time she worked. She calls you about every other week to complain that Chuck’s overtime still didn’t break even. 

“It’s fine,” you go to the cupboard and take out your emergency can of apples. “No pumpkin but I’ll figure something out. Maybe crisp?” 

“See, you got this,” she says as she goes to the fridge and steals one of your father’s Molsons. 

“Viv,” her husband calls from the other room as something crashes. 

“Ugh, he can never do anything by himself,” she mutters as she cracks the tab. 

You shake your head. Your father’s holler joins the chaos of voices. The kids whine as one of them cries, and your dad yells about whatever’s broken. 

You won’t be lured into the storm. Vivien couldn’t offer to help you in the kitchen. This is her chance to get drunk and let her husband wallow in the destruction. Your father never lifts a finger in the kitchen past opening the fridge and your brother would only get in your way. 

As you forge on, you can’t help but wonder why you bother. What do you ever get in return? Not even a thanks and you only end up cleaning the mess after. Well, what other choice do you have? You’ve been pushing the same boulder uphill for almost twenty years and you still haven’t gotten over the apex. 

You manage to scrounge enough together to fill a pan with the impromptu crisp. You have everything prepped and ready to cook in intervals; bean casserole, sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, corn, and carrots. Even if everything else is a mess, dinner should be good. 

You open the stove and slide apple crisp in next to the turkey. It won’t be your best work. As you shut the oven door, there’s a sudden clatter behind you. You spin as the bowls hit the floor and their contents scatter with the shards of broken glass. Viv’s oldest, Cameron, swings around his hockey stick, stomping over the mess. 

You stand stunned and paralysed. You blink as tears burn behind your eyes and your hands shake in horror and rage slowly builds from your stomach to throat. You can only stare at the clueless child as he wiggles the stick proudly.  

“See what I got for Christmas?” 

You sway. He’s eleven years old. He knows better. Or he should. 

“What the hell is all that nonsense?” Your father yells as he clamours into the doorway. “Now whatcha gone and done--” 

As he turns the blame on you, you wince as if you’ve been slapped. Cameron once more swings around his stick, playing with a sliced carrot like a puck. Your father’s voice fades into the back of your mind as your vision narrows. 

“You fix it. I’m done.” You shake your head as you swallow down your devastation. “I’m done.” 

“Done? What d’ya mean done?” He snarls as you brush past him. He follows you down the hall to the front door. 

“It’s over. I’m not doing it again. I’m not cooking for you animals anymore,” you rip your jacket off the hooks and shove your feet into your well-worn boots. “You want a Christmas dinner, figure it out yourself.” 

“You can’t just walk out.” He slurs. 

“I’m going.” 

“Where? Huh? Going to find your mother?” 

You stop and face him. He knows it’s low but he doesn’t care. He always throws her in your face, like you ever had a say in what she did. You scowl. Before you can explode with the fury boiling in your chest, a knock comes at the door. Great, now you have witness to the storm. You don’t need another police report. Better deal with the neighbour. 

“Well, maybe she’s nicer than you,” you retort and spin around. 

You pull open the door and swiftly flit out, swinging it shut to muffle the bluster of shouting and smashing. Worse than Paula coming to complain about the noise, it’s the landlord. Of course. 

“Oh, Mr. Pine,” you greet in a fragile tone. 

“Hello, I see Christmas is in full effect,” he remarks kindly on the rabble behind the walls. 

“Sure is,” you utter. You look him over as he holds a wrapped basket. You don’t expect him. Especially on the holiday. “Um, what are you doing here?” 

“I bring holiday tidings. I hate to disturb you and your family but I’ve been making the rounds of my tenants and it’s been a bit more taxing than I would expect.” 

“Oh?” You furrow your brow. 

“This is for you. And your family,” he pushes the basket toward you. “Just a little gesture.” 

“Uh, wow, you...” you slowly take it, admiring the ribbon tied around the red plastic wrap, “that’s very generous but... I don’t have anything to give you.” 

“It is not given in the spirit of reciprocity,” he assures. “You know, I sadly could not make it home for the holiday but I’ve got many to share it with here so I thought I would.” 

“Well, that’s lovely,” you say. “I’m uh... on my way out actually so I’ll just leave it here.” 

You turn and put the basket on the wicker chair near the window. You feel Pine watching you. You turn back to his pensive gaze. He wears a nice grey coat and a deep blue scarf with silver edging. He is a perfect contrast to the disaster of your appearance. 

You zip up your coat to hide the food smear across your sweatshirt. You pull your hat from your pocket and tug it down over your hair. You near him and force a smile. 

“Thank you so much. I’m sure we’ll enjoy unwrapping all that later.” 

“Well, where are you off to then?” He sidles to the end of the steps, making way for you. 

“Um. Just going for a walk.” To be honest, you don’t know where you’re going. You didn’t make a plan. You just need to get out. 

“Would it be terribly rude to invite myself? It isn’t often I get to stroll through the neighbourhood.” He dips his chin down as the bitterness turns the tip of his nose pink. His blue eyes are pale but bright in the snowy atmosphere. 

“Uh, sure. Not much to see around here,” you shrug and descend the stairs. Your anger subsides for the roiling embarrassment nipping at your nape. 

He follows you down and you drag your treads along the walkway heavily. You turn down the street and he comes up next to you. You’re quiet as you wallow in agitation and humiliation. 

“Sounded like a very hectic affair,” he muses through the whistling winds. 

You snort. You can’t help yourself. “Yeah.” 

He hums as you carry on in a lull. You can appreciate that he doesn’t push it and yet the silence, welcomes your annoyance. You sigh. 

“It’s awful,” you breathe. 

He chuckles, “family can be a lot.” 

“Yeah, well, mine is just... we don’t even like each other.” You rub your cheeks as you speak. “I shouldn’t complain. It’s not your problem.” 

“Well, as you can see, I don’t have anything pressing to attend to. You are my last stop.” 

“Hm,” you sniff. You mull your temper and consider going back. The thought just sparks another flare in you. You shake your head at the idea. “They ruined dinner. Again. Every year--” you stop and click your tongue. “I can’t go back. Not today. So, I guess I’ll figure something else out.” 

“No? But surely, they would miss you.” 

“No, only what I do for them,” you roll your eyes. “Like I said, we’re enemies more than we are family. Not that it’s your problem.” You get to the end of the street, where the dead-end sign stands. “Look, you’re really nice bringing that by but you should go enjoy your Christmas somewhere warm. Alone. In peace.” 

“Ha, it seems we envy each other for what the other has,” he remarks. “You romanticize my solace and I can’t help but covet your lack of.” 

“Yeah, sure. Well, I should get the car cleared off. I’ll probably drive it down to the train station and sleep there.” 

He tilts his head. You realise what you’ve said as his forehead creases, “you say it as if it common.” 

“Won’t be the first or last time,” you say. “Look, you’ve heard enough of my problems. Really, I’m already embarrassed so please, just go.” 

He clicks his tongue, “and yet I fear I cannot.” He insists, “you see, I was raised to be a gentleman and that includes never leaving a woman in despair so, I cannot allow you to spend your Christmas behind the tracks. So, either I stay and we shiver together,” he gives a moment to quake in the frigid air, “or you come with me, gather your wits, and maybe a bit of warmth.” 

You scoff louder than ever, “and why would you do that?” 

“Well, it is Christmas,” he suggests, “and I am your landlord so is it not my onus to house you?” 

You laugh sardonically. He grins. 

“Come on, I have to confess, I don’t do well in the cold and I cannot feel my hands,” he drawls. 

You drop your chin and turn your hands out, “alright. Twist my arm.” 

“I would if I could bend my fingers,” he jibes. 

🎄

Pine lives further than you expect. You suppose you never thought much about it. Where he’s concerned, you only ever worried about making rent. Yet, subconsciously, you built up a man in his sophisticated condo, like a king in a tower. 

Instead, he drives past the city limits into the sparse rural lands where houses are set far apart around thickets of trees. It’s not entirely without sense. Out here, the wealthy can build without the confines of a city lot. 

He turns off toward a countryhouse with brown and white siding with black trims. The Tudor-style stands out amid the more farmhouse style facades. He pulls into the plowed lot as you stare up at the immaculate structure. The property he lets to you stands in a lowly contrast. You can’t help another twinge of insecurity. 

“Um, thanks... for this. I really appreciate it.” You wring your hands as he shuts off the engine. “I feel a bit stupid now.” 

“I wouldn’t. Sounds like you’ve a lot to be unhappy about. To think you’ve put up with so much for so long, a weaker person could not. Myself included,” he assures. 

He undoes his seat belt and you do the same. You mirror him in all your movements, taking his lead as you step onto unfamiliar ground. You come up the front steps of the house and he unlocks the broad wooden door. 

He lets you inside and you take your time slipping free of your boots. He leaves his salt-stained leather shoes on the mat and hangs his jacket on the rack in the corner. He takes your coat and puts it next to his. You pinch your thumbs between your knuckles anxiously as you look around the spacious and finely curated interior. 

“I’ve tea. Or hot cocoa. My mother sent me a specialty frother as a token of her absence,” he offers. 

“Oh, I'm okay,” you twist around as you examine the walls. “It’s a very nice house.” 

“A very nice but empty house,” he agrees. “I spent so long with the design and construction, I hardly thought of filling it up with more than things. Far too much for only one person.” 

“I guess everyone has different problems we don’t think of,” you say. “Like you said before, I’m whining about my family yet yours is so far away.” 

“Ah, yes, funny how we rarely get what we so desire,” he slithers. “So we covet what others have so much we cannot see any possible flaw.” 

“Right.” 

He waves you further inside. You’re quiet as he takes you on a brief tour; a front room, dining room, a large kitchen you could die for, a den, a back office, and that’s just the first floor. He brings you upstairs and shows you a guest room. 

“You might stay in here. I’ll find some clean sheets.” 

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.” You insist. “Thanks, again. Uh...” 

“I’m not much of a cook, but I could put together something. Cheese toasties and soup always do me well.” 

“Sure, that sounds great. I could help,” you suggest. 

“Only if you truly wish to,” he says. “But I don’t mind.” 

“I’d rather stay busy.” You reply. 

He nods and takes you back down to the kitchen. The meal isn’t very hard to put together. Melted cheese on toast and a jar of the gourmet soup they sell at the more expensive shops. It’s tasty too, warm and comforting even.  

Yet, you can’t help the glimmer of guilt in the back of your head. Your sister is probably throwing a fit, your father too. They’re ranting and raving about you walking out. Comparing you to your mother, as they always do to the worst people they know. It’s that dagger they keep sheathed until they’re ready to cut deep. 

Pine jars you from your worry as he takes your empty bowl and plate. You sit up at the table and thank him. He gestures you to stay before you can get up. 

You wait in the dining room. You put your hand in your hands and yawn. You feel like you did when you were a kid. When one of your friends invited you over and you realised how much better their house and their life was. 

“Tired,” Pine muses, “well, I will make up your bed then.” 

“Really, you don’t have to do all that,” you lift your head and bat away the fatigue. 

“I do,” he counters. “Shouldn’t take me very long. Feel free to explore. Or if you are so inclined, I've left a bottle and glass on the counter.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s sweet of you.” 

He goes and you stay just as you are. You feel like you could taint this place if you stray too far. When he returns, you feel sluggish. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you? A book to read?” 

“No, I think I’ll just lay down,” you get up and push the chair in. “I’ve already taken so much.” 

“Taken, you say, as if I’ve not given freely,” he smiles. “I’ve left you something to sleep in as well. I’m afraid my selection is limited.” 

“Thanks, uh, again,” you rub your neck. At this point, it’s becoming a chant. Thanking him for everything. 

You go upstairs and gently close the door of the guest room. He’s right, the house feels sonorously empty. It’s so big, that it’s almost desolate. You replace your clothes with the button-up he left over the duvet and climb into the lush bed. Even that makes your own seem like little more than a wooden pallet. 

It doesn’t take you long to sink into a sleep full of violent illusions. You’re back at home, your father yelling as you try to pick up the spilled potatoes, only for the glass to cut your fingers and stick in your flesh. No matter what you do, you can’t do more than slice yourself up, the blood smearing your skin and dripping onto the cracked tile. 

You wake with a start. Your heart races as you’re startled at the unfamiliar surroundings. It sets in that you’re not at your father’s house anymore and you calm. You languish beneath the fluffy duvet and dread climbing out from beneath it, but your bladder demands it. 

You finally get up and near the door. It has to be late. You inch open the door and listen to the hallway. You creep out, expecting the floor to creak like the boards at home, but your feet only pad lightly on the polished hardwood. 

You find the bathroom down the other end of the hall and swiftly pop in and out. On your way back, you stop near the side table where a small boxy clock stands. The digital face shines the time. It’s just after midnight. 

You squint as the background changes behind the numbers. Fancy. You tap the screen curiously and the time disappears. It’s one of the smart devices you’ve seen in the Black Friday ads. But the next image, startles you. It’s all too familiar. 

You blink at the sight of your family’s living room. Your father’s passed out in his old recliner and the corner of the rug is bent over. There’s wrapping paper strewn across the floor and Chinese food containers littered over the table. Cameron is sleeping on the couch as your brother continues to drink in the armchair and stares at the television. 

But why is there a camera in your house? You shakily bring your hand up to touch the screen again. A menu comes up; Favourites. You tap the first option ‘bedroom’. The next image nearly makes you scream. It’s your bedroom. Your sister’s taken over the bed with her husband. The moonlight shines on them through the window as the camera’s night vision limns their slumbering figures. 

Your heart hammers. How could this be real? You pinch your thigh and squeak. You’re not waking up. 

“Restless?” Pine’s voice has you stalk straight. You lurch on your feet and face his shadow as it looms at the other end of the hallway. 

“Mr. Pine,” you greet. 

He slowly struts out of the shadows. You wince and lean back on your heel. He clucks as you try to cover the screen with your hand. He stops and puts his hands on his hips. In the dim, you can see the outline of his naked torso above a short pair of boxers. You gulp. 

“It isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he says quietly. “I meant to woo you a little...” 

“What... Why...” 

“Why... what? Darling? Why would I want to give you a proper home? Why would I keep a close eye on such a sad soul?” He hums, “well, as I said, I was raised to be a gentleman, and this house is dreadfully empty, don’t you agree?” 

You gape at him, horrified and confused. What he says cannot be true. It cannot be real. Why? Why you? Has it all been a ploy? Was he just waiting and watching for the moment you cracked? 

“Mr. Pine,” you utter. 

“Please, darling, call me Jonathan,” he comes closer and swipes your hand before you can allude him. “It only feels right, doesn’t it?” 

You writhe in his grasp but cannot escape him. You look around at the walls and the isolation of that place sets in. No, it didn’t make sense, after all. A man like him should be in a condo, in the city, not out here where the trees hide him from civilization. Where the roads are endless and treacherous. It doesn’t make sense, not unless he means to go undisturbed. Unless he means you to go undiscovered. 

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he purrs as he brings his hand up to cradle your head, “I give to you the greatest gift at all. A true home, a true family. We will build it together.” 

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone headcanons

Clay is the type of brother to not believe what any of the others tell him. Whether they're lying to him or not, he don't believe them

John Dory can get his brothers to fall asleep in minutes. He's got all the tricks that knock them out. They worked when they were kids and still work now that they're adults.

Whoever ends up with John will get a wonderful lil house husband. He can cook, clean, bake, sew, and take care of children. Basically a house husband (or pod in this case)

John definitely dated Delta Dawn. They broke up bc they were too similar and too different. This was shortly after the band broke up and before Delta became queen. They were both young and adventurous. They wanted to travel the world together but Delta had responsibilities that she couldn't leave.

Floyd had ONE girlfriend. When he got on his own, Floyd told people he was bisexual bc he knew he wasn't straight but he thought he liked girls. He and that girl broke up on good terms bc she understood when he told her he's gay.

Floyd is scared of clowns

Bruce probably traumatized the little brothers more than John Dory did. He was the one that would force them to go into a haunted house, purposely jump out with a scary mask on type stuff

Drinks of choice: JD prefers whiskey, Bruce likes margaritas and brandy (obviously), Clay doesn't drink often, he likes white wine while he reads, Floyd likes SHOTS SHOTS and mixed drink (club/party drinks), branch doesn't drink much either but likes wine and occasionally mixed drinks.

Floyd is the holder of all the family secrets. He's really good at keeping them secret. Bruce and John are too but they're also known for telling embarrassing stories so none of the brothers want to tell them their secrets and risk it getting leaked

John is incredibly handy, he's very good at fixing most things. He can FIX things most of the time. He's no good at building.

All the boys are hopeless romantics

When one of the brothers (excluding Bruce in this case) get married after reuniting, they are all excitedly helping plan the wedding

Floyd can walk in heels

John Dory handles his machete very well. Nothing gets cut that he doesn't want cut. He also flips it around like a butterfly knife

When JD and Spruce went out to those teenage parties, they had a silent rule of one of them had to stay sober to make sure the other didn't do anything stupid, was safe and they both got home in enough time to get some sleep before having to wake up for the day. Spruce made sure John didn't wander off while stoned and listened to him talk whatever came to his high mind. John Dory made sure Spruce didn't eat something he wasn't supposed to while stoned or do anything stupid while drunk. It was never discussed but they knew that one of them had to be responsible for the other

Despite the band getting back together, both John and Floyd have sole careers that take off. Floyd is more for the performing and shows, JD is more for releasing songs and disappearing for several months. Floyd is selling out shows, John is dropping a song on YouTube that blows up within the first ten minutes. Brozone fans eat it up

While on stage and interacting with fans, the boys do very different things. John Dory leans towards the crowd and the fans go wild, he's a bit taken back but blows them a kiss (cue someone fainting). Bruce still plays up the heartthrob card, showing off his body, a fan yells and calls him daddy. He whispers into his mic "I didn't give you permission to call me that." in a flirty tone, cue the deafening screams. Clay was always shocked a little bit when fans start screaming when he gets close to the end of the stage, he's talking into his mic like "you good? You need something?" which causes the fans to all scream something at him. Floyd is the most memeable, hes making faces and sitting on the edge of the stage. He didn't used to that but after V&V he gets tired pretty quick. So he often ends up laying on the stage, his leg hanging off, his mic by his head along with a bottle of water. Clay kicked him off once and nobody knows if it was on purpose or not. Branch is NOT used to the fans. They're screaming at him and he's backing away. He's also very memeable until he gets more used to it. He didn't perform as much as his brothers (by that i mean he only truly performed once)

Bruce teaches John Dory how to surf. After several hours he gets the hang of it, it's like skateboarding only rougher.

Bruce sometimes watches his boys and sees him and his bros. Theyre wrestling and he can practically see himself, Clay and Floyd on the floor of their Grandma's pod

Grandma Rosiepuff spanked JD and Bruce with a wooden spoon. By the time she stopped, Clay was old enough for him to be next, so he got lucky. The wooden spoon she used had a wooden chunk taken out of it from when she hit John once. They find it while going through her old stuff that Branch had.

"Hey look it's the whooping spoon!"

"The what?!"

"The whooping spoon. The spoon grandma used to spank us."

"What makes you say that?"

"You see this chunk taken out, that's from my ass."

[sincerelyverena]

pls pls pls charles x short!alive!reader? established relationship, maybe just some fluffy moments between the two?

⟡⁺ THE GHOST OF YOU

tysm for the req, anon! 💞💞 ive thoroughly enjoyed my return here, n now the story is yours n i hoped u enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it <3 special shoutout to my dbd betareaders, i love and appreciate all of u sm!

. . . CHARLES ROWLAND X GN!READER ‘think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else.’ @andforthecoating

inbox is always open for requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒you love him. and he loves you too. a story as simple as that.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒fluff ﹐short!reader﹐alive!reader ﹐established relationship ﹐im still getting a feel for charles character so go easy on me pls ﹐havent written non-smut in a long LONG time

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @love-xoxojules﹐@immortal101 ﹐@fadedpictures91 ﹐@charles-rxwlands﹐ @kidbiscuitt @smallestgremlin

Falling in love with a ghost wasn’t on the cards for you, until you met Charles Rowland.

The supernatural had haunted you since you were a small child, being the victim of a near-death experience isn’t easy on any youngling. Especially you. The consequences of viewing these seemingly mythological creatures took years of patience and silent work to endure, more so, because nobody would ever believe you if you told them you saw ghosts. How ghastly.

And as a young child, you couldn’t imagine that decades into the future, you’d be laid between the arms of one. Two bronzed columns that supported the minuscule length of your torso. And for a ghost? Charles is oddly warm. Or maybe that’s you warming up to your idea of your body heat, marinating in the crisp sheets of your bed. A sanctuary the two of you now shared, together.

But it was nice to think that it was Charles too. He was the reason why you felt comfortable and protected after all. In a world of witchcraft, warlocks, dangers, and death Charles was your home.

A pair of bow-turned lips place themselves against your temple, assisting you in drifting out of sleep. Charles murmurs against the surface of your skin, planting scattered kisses along the top of your head in the process. ‘Dove, we’re meeting Crystal for coffee, remember?’

Charles’s gently mustered words are enough to serenade a response out of your sleepy self. You murmur incoherent words, flipping yourself over so that when you inch your eyes open, they can delight in your boyfriend’s beauty.

His ebony-clad curls are fluffed to perfection atop his head, not a hint of bed-head in sight, which you consider impressive before you remember that Charles mostly spent the night just watching you. As if nothing else in the world matters. You extend a hand to the defined curve of his jaw, practically guiding his lips toward your own. They lock together in familiarity, and nothing but pure, honeyed ecstasy buzzes throughout you. This is better than coffee, better than anything. Charles tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between.

And as you two separated, Charles beamed down at you with something indescribable bouncing around in his whiskey eyes.  ‘I think a sleep-in wouldn’t hurt, now, would it?’ Rising to the day seems like the logical option. Something that barely crosses your mind for a second before you fall captive to those bronzed arms, weaving around the hitch of your waist. And before you know it, you discover yourself half-tossed atop the ghost you had fallen for. The tall length of his legs tangled with your own. And any responsible, adult-like thought dissolved as your lips crashed together. Something oh-so-destructible yet perfect, how could you say no?

And possibly, that perfect destruction is always the reason why you both are considered late to possibly anything imaginable. If Edwin found himself in the depths of the fiery circles of hell again, the entire group would bet that you and Charles would take an eternity to part before he’d get rescued. It’d be more beneficial for Edwin to smuggle out himself.

‘We’re going to be awfully late, angel.’

‘Maybe because you keep distracting me.’

‘Nonsense, I’m brills and can do no wrong.’

You tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror before you. You scrutinise Charles with a disbelieving gaze at his words, which shortly dissolve into nothing less than adoration. Nevertheless, you continued to feign annoyance as you combed a single hand through your hair and down your scalp. Fingers adjusting the little strands to suit your desire for tidiness. 

You abandon this aspiration, pivoting upon your heel. The mask of annoyance you pertain slips away into nothingness as a soft laugh escapes you amid your words. Facing your boyfriend, you slip a hand into his own.

‘You’re lucky that I love you.’ 

'I am so very lucky.'

Charles’ adjusted his position as he moved his lips from the curve of your forehead, toward the curve of your lips. There was something passionate about how the deep onyx of hues sparked with something even deeper. Something warm and honeyed, indescribable. And before you could even decipher what it was you could feel the honeyed taste of him upon your lips, Charles scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

His arm relented against the small of your back, even as you holler out empty threats and meaningless curses amid your laughter. This merely prompted Charles to bounce you atop his shoulder blade, a chuckle of his own heard as you huffed and puffed. Nevertheless, you would refuse to admit that the action of soft intimacy made you feel over the moon with exhilaration.

A curse of Charles’s own accompanied your laughter as he was a breath away from the side of his torso slamming into the doorway he attempted to parade you through, which frankly made you laugh harder.

‘You’re such a dick.’ You managed to wheeze out.

‘I think you may be right about that one.’

Charles’s voice sounded with a tinge of mischief, which crept, announced in his tone. You could almost hear the grin in his voice as he articulated his words, even through your limited peripheral vision as you were held captive in his arms.

‘You love it, though.’

The Charles-like cockiness your boyfriend presented caused you to blow out a breath of feigned exasperation. Yet, unbeknownst to him, the slow ghost of a smile proceeded to creep onto your lips. Especially as he continued to balance you upon the bridge of his broadened shoulder, for a hint of dramatics, of course. Because you did love it.

And as the two of you ventured toward inevitable lateness, you couldn’t help but think how you couldn’t wait to do it all again the following morning.

WORD COUNT: 973 MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[koshkamartell]

This is my submission for the Dead Dove December 2024 event held by my dear friend @romana-after-dark. I hope you guys like it!

summary: oneshot set in AU, no outbreak. You are a down on your luck waitress who impulsively steals from a man at a casino one night. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up easily.

warnings: noncon anal penetration, degradation, coarse language, noncon digital penetration, gambling, theft, slut shaming, mention of sex work, unspecified hefty age gap, reader is feminine but not described in detail.

word count: 4,500

You knew he might try find you, but you didn't think he would go any further than the front doors of the casino. You thought he would stalk around the black jack tables a few times, search throughout the scores the slot machines, maybe even check the high rollers lounge and the rooftop balcony. You knew he would be angry when he realised what you did but you didn't expect him to bother chasing you too far.

You had high tailed it out of there pretty quickly once you stole the chips and cashed out, anyway. Out onto the strip you strutted, abuzz with smug triumph, holding tightly to your purse stuffed with cash. You checked into a hotel a few blocks away, deciding to treat yourself to a deluxe room with a queen sized bed and room service.

Sure, you had done the wrong thing. You knew you had. It wasn't that you were a bad person, though - you were just desparate. Living in a shitty trailer and working your ass off waitressing had driven you to the edge of hopelessness. You were sick of slaving away to earn enough money to survive through the week. You were sick of the disgusting men who oogled you and treated you like a piece of meat while you served them burgers and fries and endless cups of coffee. You had been beaten down by the hardships of life for years now and there never seemed to be any hope for a better future for you. You were never granted a reprieve from the drudgery of your dull existence, not even for a day.

Until the night you met Joel and got greedy.

Joel Miller rarely gambled. He enjoyed the occasional game of poker or darts with his work buddies but he was never a hustler. He had seen his little brother Tommy lose way too much money betting on football games and amateur poker tournaments to want to take a risk himself. He was definitely the more sensible of the two.

He wasn't a party animal, either. It wasn't in his nature to be wild and carefree; becoming a single dad at a young age and raising a daughter while earning a living as a contractor had moulded him into a pragmatic, no-nonsense kind of man. His workaholic dedication to his profession and his responsibilities as a parent had left little room for pleasure in his personal life, anyway.

And even though Joel's daughter is an adult now, living her own life in another state, he still leads a quiet existence outside work. Tommy teases him for being a boring old bastard, but the truth is Joel has always craved a simple life, so he's content with how things are. He downs a whiskey every night and more often than not falls asleep on the couch while watching a movie.

But tonight is different. One of the guys in his work crew is having a bachelor party, so Tommy finally had a good reason to drag Joel out of the house to enjoy a night out. Even though he grumbled and groused about being too old for this shit, Joel acquiesced and joined the group of men for a night of bar hopping (and even a visit to a strip club). At Tommy's insistence they ended up stopping at one of the casinos to try their luck at some poker and blackjack.

It took some convincing from the guys and a few shots of whiskey to get Joel to loosen up enough to get into the spirit of things. He won some money and lost some money but actually managed to have some fun along the way. He was going to call it a night but decided to lay a last minute bet at the roulette table, just for the hell of it. To his surprise he ended up winning.

"You lucky son of a bitch," Tommy laughed in shock, clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Who woulda thought?"

Joel grinned smugly and accepted the stack of chips offered to him by the table dealer. Emboldened by the win and the guys encouragement, Joel placed another bet on the roulette table but promised himself it was his last for the night. He braced himself for disappointment when the spinning wheel slowed down, reminding himself that everybody's luck ran out at some stage. The little round ball bobbled along the slots until it came to a halt on red 23, the slot that Joel had placed his chips on.

The men all whooped and cheered when they saw the result and Joel couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face. The dealer pushed a large stack of chips towards Joel with an uttered congratulations, sir.

"Keep goin', man," Tommy whispered in his ear. "You're fuckin' killin' it, got a lucky streak, Joel, you gotta ride it."

Joel shook his head and collected the stacks of chips in his hands. "Tom, I just won ten grand. Odds are I'm gonna lose it all if I keep goin'."

Satisfied with his takings and ready to go home, Joel bid his brother and friends goodnight and went on his way to the cashier cage to cash out his winnings. He was standing in line waiting to be served when something bumped his elbow. He turned to look at what had knocked him, and there his eyes fell upon you.

You. Young, pretty, well made up. Dress short enough to show off your legs but just long enough to cover your ass. His eyes flickered down the length of your body and back up again, trailing over your cleavage before meeting your eyes. You were gorgeous.

"Oh, sorry about that!" You smiled brightly. "Didn't mean to run into you, mister."

Joel gave you a polite smile in return. "No problem, ma'am."

You fluttered your eyelids and sashayed away from him, glancing over your shoulder with a flirty little smirk. Joel felt his cheeks blush as he watched you leave, his gaze glued to the way your ass swayed with each step of your heels. Goddamn. He felt the blood rush to his cock. Were you actually flirting with him? No, surely not. You were way too young, way too attractive to want an old man like him. Shit, maybe you were a working girl, looking for a john for the night.

Joel shook his head and turned back to face the cashier's cage. He would have to resign himself to the fantasies in his head tonight.

It wasn't until he finally arrived at the cashier's desk and had his chips counted that Joel realised you had stolen $5,000 from him.

It has been about half an hour since your escape.

Your dress, underwear and heels lay discarded in a heap on the floor of your hotel room. Your unzipped purse sits on the nightstand by the bed, a thick wad of cash poking out from its pocket. You slip into a fluffy white bathrobe and stretch out on the bed to flick through the TV channels. Soon you'll take a bubble bath in the luxurious looking tub, then when your room service order arrives you'll stuff yourself with nachoes and a deluxe chocolate milkshake.

Fuck. You can't remember the last time you had experienced the granduer of being so pampered. You close your eyes for and sigh, savouring the moment of serenity for a minute. Right now you're in heaven, your own personal bubble of indulgence, and it feels fucking amazing.

A knock at the door startles you from your dreamy reverie. That must be room service, you guess. It has arrived earlier than expected, before you had a chance to hop in the bath, but a change in plans doesn't bother you too much. You've got all night, after all. You smile to yourself as you scramble off the bed and pad over to the door.

You twist the handle and open the door, expecting to be greeted by a smiling hotel employee carrying a fancy silver tray. Instead, you are met with the scowling face of the man you conned at the casino, his tall figure crowding the doorway. The sight of him right before you is like a nightemarish hallucination, and you gasp in fright, your heart leaping into your throat.

Despite being so caught off guard by his appearance your survival instincts quickly kick in. You hurry to try and slam the door shut but he's too swift; he wedges his work boot over the threshold to prevent it from closing before shouldering his way inside the room. You squeal and stumble backwards toward the bed, terrified by the intrusion.

How did he find you?

Joel calmly closes the door behind him and turns the lock. The soft sound of the latchbolt clicking into place prompts an ominous twist of dread to coil within your stomach.

Is he going to kill you?

"I'm sor--" you begin to say.

"No one ever teach you right from wrong?" Joel barks angrily, cutting you off. He glares at you with his dark eyes full of ire, his mouth set in a snarl of disgust. His large hands fidget by his sides and you worry that he's trying to repress the urge to beat the shit out of you.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your brain buzzes with anxiety and trepidation. You don't know what to do or say now that he's in such close proximity to you, his intimidating presence crushing all sense of security and confidence from you, leaving not even a modicum of courage in its wake.

Even though your mouth is dry and your throat feels like sandpaper, you speak impulsively before even thinking. "I didn't--"

"Think ya can just do whatever the hell you want?" He snaps, taking a step in your direction. "Steal from hard workin' folk and mess up their lives?"

"No!" You shake your head vehemently and shuffle blindly around the bedframe, not daring to take your eyes off of him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"

Joel snorts derisively and takes another step closer; his footfall is slow and heavy, like he's unhurried to close the gap between you. "Didn't mean to rob me? Didn't meant to steal my money and fuck off?"

"I'll pay you back!" You blurt out in panic.

"Damn right you will," he snipes back. "Every fuckin' cent of it."

You swallow thickly and nod. "O-okay, so, I already spent some to get this room - but only for one night, I swear!" The explanation tumbles from your mouth. "But I can give you the rest now, and I promise I will pay you back!"

Joel's eyes narrow and you see his jaw tick once. "When?" He asks flatly. You stare at him and chew your bottom lip for a moment in deliberation. You already spent your weeks wage on rent and bills, leaving you with about ten dollars to your name until next week.

Shit.

"I, uhm, I get paid next Friday," you mumble sheepishly. "I can get you the money then."

He sighs, a heavy exhalation of frustration from his nose. He shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips. "'S too late."

"Please, please give me this one chance," you beseech, clasping your hands in front of you, your eyes wide and pleading. "Just give me until then."

"How much? How much did you use for this room?" Joel demands. You pause, trying to remember the nightly rate the concierge charged as well as mentally calculate the added room service.

"Uhm, I-I think it's a-a-bout $350," you stutter nervously. He huffs an exasperated sigh and runs his hand over the bottom half of his face. Seeing the man you swindled look so frustrated makes you feel embarrassed and childlike. "I'm sorry..." you mumble, ashamed of your greed.

"Here's what's gonna happen," Joel tells you sternly. "I'm gonna take back what you stole from me now, and you're gonna pay me that $350 back come Friday. No more excuses, you hear?"

"Yes, ofcourse," you agree earnestly, "I'll pay back every cent, like you said."

You glance over to the purse on the nightstand Joel stares at you in comtemplative silence, his jaw ticking as he assesses the situation.

"You do this often?" Joel asks after a few beats, his voice considerably more softer than before. It seems like he's gradually calming down. "That little slick act, battin' your eyes while you're stealin' from a man."

"No," you reply meekly, dropping your eyes to the floor. "I don't. I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm struggling with money right now...I was desperate."

A tense silence falls upon the room after your shameful admission. You hope he's taking pity upon you, that he can see just how apologetic you really are. But when your gaze shifts from the ground back up to Joel, you can immediately ascertain that sympathy for your circumstances is the last thing on his mind.

Joel remains where he stands, as still as a statue, but there's an unsettling intensity swirling within his chocolate brown orbs as he stares you down. The wrath which had consumed him is no longer reflected in his gaze; it has been replaced by something more sinister - something hungry, predatory. It sends a shiver up your spine.

Suddenly you feel incredibly self conscious; although you are covered by the plush terrytowel robe you feel naked and on display infront of him. You clutch the collar of your robe closed and clear your throat.

"Maybe you can show me just how desperate you are for that money," Joel muses darkly.

Your blood runs cold at the insinuation.

You've got to get out of here as fast as you can.

When he takes another step in your direction, you don't hesitate to launch yourself toward the bathroom to escape. He's swift to follow you, though; he sprints after you and crashes his shoulder against the bathroom door, flinging it wide open, leaving you trapped and with no where to run from him.

Joel might be really fucking angry at your audacity to steal from him, but there is something else bubbling within the scorching heat of his wrath that is far more wicked. It hit him the second you opened the door and gawped at him with wide, scared eyes and a trembling bottom lip. It intensified the longer he watched you flounder and apologise, so helpless and desperate for his understanding, and he found he could not ignore it for long. You look even more pretty than he recalled, especially when you are just wearing that hotel bathrobe.

What had started as a simmering in Joel's loins has escalated into a depraved and maddening state of arousal that has his cock now rock hard in his jeans. Seeing you plead and admit to your recklessness particularly excited him, perhaps because he saw it as an acquiescence to punishment. And Joel was more than happy to dole out punishment - whether you consented to it or not.

He cannot describe the victorious surge of power that overcomes him when he successfully captures you in his grasp. He grips a hunk of hair at the top of your head to keep you still, and you grimace as your scalp stings with the tight pull. His mouth sets into a grim line of determination while his other hand clumsily rips the bathrobe from your body. You shriek and bat at him with curled fists, putting up as much of a fight as you possibly can, but it makes no impact upon him at all - you are so small and weak in comparison to his tall, burly frame.

"Fuck sake," Joel snaps irritably. "Quit fightin' me." He throws the robe to the ground, leaving your naked body trembling with fear before him. He doesn't stop to touch you or even look at you - he just manhandles you over to the sink and shoves your body around to face the mirror. "Hold still."

He pins your hips against the edge of the sink with his own, the action causing your bones to press painfully into the cool marble surface. His iron grip on your hair forces your neck upright so that your face is directly infront of the mirror. You can feel the rough denim of his jeans on the backs of your thighs and the metal of his belt buckle on your ass.

"How about you show me some more of your little tricks," grunts, his low voice gravelly and slightly breathless. "How's that sound?"

"P-p-please don't," you sob, your vision blurring with warm tears. He ignores you, using the side of his boot to kick at your foot and spread your legs apart. You feel his hand jostle behind you as he hurries to unbuckle his belt.

"You want cash so bad?" Joel taunts in your ear, hastily unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. "You can earn it. "

He yanks his jeans and underwear down his meaty thighs, freeing his heavy balls and erect cock out of the confines of his underwear, the head already wet with precum. He uses his grip on your hair to roughly push the front of your upper body flat to the bathroom vanity. Your face smushes uncomfortably against the mirror.

"Arch your ass out, bitch." Joel jabs his elbow into the middle of your spine, forcing your hips to involuntarily tilt. "Let me see that fuckin' ass."

His other hand grabs your asscheek and he digs his blunt fingernails into the meat of your flesh, earning a pathetic whine from you. He pulls your cheek to the side to expose your asshole to his perverted gaze before letting out a hungry groan. "Pretty little hole you got there, honey."

He was planning on just fucking your pussy, but holy shit, seeing you spread like this is so tantalising, like your ass is just waiting to be split wide open.

He can't resist.

Joel spits a warm wad of saliva onto your asscrack and watches it slide down to your asshole. Your body jolts at the weird sensation, your limbs vibrating with fear, but Joel's steel grip of your hair keeps you restrained against the vanity.

He uses the fat pads of his two fingers to smear the glob of spit over your hole. He's decided to be generous tonight, giving you a little preparation so you won't pass out on his dick. Yeah, he wants to punish you, but he also doesn't want the goddamn concierge busting down the door because you're screaming in pain.

His fingertips prod at your ring with the clear intention of opening you up, and that's when you start to cry harder, warbling pleas for him to stop and to not to go any further. Joel smirks to himself and pays no heed to your words; he sinks his two fingers into your hole, all the way to his middle knuckles, and you wail at the sharp discomfort.

"Shut up," Joel orders, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you. He stares down at his minstrations while you weep pitifully. He's mesmerised by the way your hole clenches and unclenches around his digits, imaginging how perfect you would feel around his cock, squeezing him just right. He keeps fingering you for a little longer until his desire becomes too ravenous to put off any longer.

Joel withdraws his fingers from you, briefly admiring the way you clench around nothing. He takes hold of the head of his cock and jams it against the puckered ring of your asshole, ready to push inside.  You start to screech and bash your legs against the vanity in distressed protest, but Joel is quick to subdue you. He crushes his knees into the backs of your thighs, his burly frame easily constraining your lower half.

"Better for both of us if you stop strugglin'," he growls. "Gonna hurt a hell of'a alot more if you don't."

He doesn't waste any longer. He drives his hips forward and forcefully jabs the tip of his fat dick through the first tight ring of your asshole. Your cries suddenly cease as the burning pain engulfs you, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth falling open in a silent scream. The room fills with the sound of Joel's heavy breathing and the jangle of his belt buckle. He ruts into you, gradually feeding his thick length further inside your ass with shallow, stuttering bursts.

"That's it," Joel croons, voice slurring with lust. "Take it, baby, just take it."

Satisfied that you're now in a state of paralysed submission, he releases his hand from your hair and siezes the cheeks of your ass in both his meaty palms. He spreads them wide and tilts his chin down to watch your defilement, hypnotised by the sight of his cock slowly spearing your tight hole.

Joel eventually slides all the way inside you, his pubic bone flush with the globes of your ass and his heavy balls pressed against the lips of your neglected pussy. He moans brokenly as he revels in the snug warmth enveloping the entirety of his dick.

"Goddamn," he mumbles to himself. "So tight."

Joel retracts his hips until he's pulled almost all the way out of your asshole, then he plunges back inside in one smooth stroke. You expel a guttural howl and grip the edge of the sink so tight your fingertips turn white, your whole body quivering below him.

"Actin' like you ain't never been assfucked before," Joel groans out. He withdraws once more, but this time he slams back into your body with a mighty thrust that forces you to rise up to your tiptoes. He takes pleasure in the ragged scream that rips from your throat and the way your hole contracts around his dick.

"N-n-no," you manage to choke out, your throat thick with unshed tears and mucus. Joel slides his large calloused hands around the curve of your hips to hold you in place before repeating the action again. You bawl again and reach a shaky arm behind you to push against his belly, a futile attempt to get him to stop.

"Don't tell me a slut like you ain't had a dick up her ass," he spits down at you. "Bet that's exactly how you earn your money. When you ain't stealin' it.'

It is impossible for you to muster a response when Joel begins to cant his hips in long strokes, gradually busting you open. The momentum of his broad body keeps your face shoved close against the mirror, the glass fogging with every loud, agonised sob you emit. His balls smack lewdly against your skin with each thrust.

Your body goes slack against the vanity counter as Joel continues to violate you over and over. He's lost in the animalistic pursuit of his pleasure and your punishment, his hefty cock barrelling in and out of your tight asshole with a merciless rhythm. His fingers squeeze your hips in a bruising hold. You feel so good wrapped around him, too fragile to fight back.

"Thought about fuckin' ya," Joel admits inbetween heavy pants. "At the casino. Wanted to fuck you so bad when I first saw ya."

You weep pathetically, lungs aching with every battered breath you inhale, your body going more slack and weak the longer Joel indulges in your suffering. He is so big, bigger than any other man you've ever been with, and there is no way you could adjust to his girth so suddenly, especially in your ass.

"Maybe I shoulda just slipped you a twenty. Bet that woulda had you droppin' your panties right then and there."

Saliva pools in your mouth and drips out the corners of your lips as your mind starts to detach from your physical body.

"Wreckin' ya good, ain't that right, baby?" Joel moans. "Fillin' you up so good, ain't gonna be able to walk for days."

He continues fucking you with a possessed, primal rapacity. He can't remember the last time he fucked with such reckless abandon - maybe never - and he knows he won't last long. He's too drunk on the domination he holds over you to delay his orgasm any longer.

"Gonna ruin this slutty asshole. Have you leakin' everywhere."

Joel pistons into you harder and faster as he chases his orgasm. His heart beat pounds in his ears and he can no longer hear your cries when his escasty soon reaches a fever pitch. It hits him with a blinding intensity that he wasn't prepared for; his head back falls back and his eyes squeeze shut as he explodes inside your ass.

"Fuck," he grunts and huffs like a beast. "Fuck, take it, ya little whore, take it all."

You whimper as he slows down his movements to a rocking motion, sawing back and forth to let your asshole milk the cum from his cock. When he's finished, Joel slips his softening cock out of you, coaxing a vulgar squelching sound from your hole.

He staggers backward, his gait slightly off balance as he comes down from the high of his orgasm. His chest heaves as he stares at your naked ravaged body sprawled infront of him. Your legs tremble for a moment before you collapse onto the bathroom floor, unable to remain standing without Joel's strength pinning you. You hug your arms around your shaking body and curl up on the ground, tears and snot spilling down your face.

Joel watches you wordlessly. He wipes his hand down his sweaty face and sighs. He doesn't feel remorse - why should he? You ripped him off. You stole money he needs for his business, for his house, for his daughter. You deserved this.

You don't dare look at him while he hitches up his underwear and jeans. All you want is for this nightmare of a man to finally leave you alone to lick your wounds. He tucks himself back in and belts up while you dig your fingernails into your arms, deep enough to draw blood.

You hear the heavy footfalls of his boots as he swaggers out of the bathroom. He crosses to the nightstand and retrieves the wad of cash from your purse. He stops to study your ID card, noting your age and your name. Fuck, you're younger than he thought. He scans over your address. And you live in a shitty part of town. Maybe you really were desperate. He flicks through the bills of money and counts, making sure the $4,650 is still there, then stuffs it in his pocket.

Joel walks back to the bathroom but doesn't enter, instead lingering outside, not bothering to give you another look. "Forget the three fifty," he calls from the doorway, his voice gruff. "You earned it."

It goes quiet for a few moments, then you hear the front door unlock and open. It shuts with a resounding thud and your wish to be alone is granted.

tags - @romana-after-dark @romanarose

[arcane-vagabond]

The Yawning Grave: Prologue

The Yawning Grave: Prologue

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Reader

Summary: A trip to Scotland during the summer after your senior year of college was supposed to be filled with adventure and your weight in whiskey. However, after a night of chatting with a handsome stranger at a local pub, you're whisked away to a land filled with creatures your grandfather had warned you about long ago. Trapped in this world, you'll have to call upon that knowledge your grandfather imparted upon you, all while dealing with the same handsome stranger from that last night.

Content Warning: Mythology, Folktales, Fairytales, Mentions of absent parents, Fae mentions, Traveling. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Grimms fairytales, the true versions, the ones with blood and magic and death taught lessons about the wicked ways of mankind. That’s what your father had always told you when he read them to you before bed. He taught you that there was always a lesson to be gained from the fantastic tales of goblins, giants, and evil witches. Don’t be too greedy. Don’t covet. Do unto others. You found comfort in these stories, knowing that the monsters in them were ones that every person faced, that every person strived to work against. More often than not, the heroes of the story prevailed by some means, earning a life of wealth and prosperity because of their actions.

It was your grandfather’s stories, however, that left you with a sickening feeling. Fairies were not small, dainty little people who made flowers bloom and troubles disappear. No, they were mischievous at best, causing problems for the common, hardworking people for their enjoyment. At their worst, they were malicious, vindictive creatures who sought retribution for perceived wrongs.

They were warnings.

“Never make a deal with the cunning folk,” your grandfather had warned you, his normally twinkling eyes solemn as they stared down at where you were tucked under the warm blankets. “Never give them your name. Once they have it, it’s theirs forever, and you can never get it back.”

“Why do they want my name, Grampa?” You asked, voice soft and eyes wide as you stared up at him, clutching the blankets tighter.

“Because, Puck,” he murmured, placing a gentle hand to the top of your head as he leaned in, as if to tell a secret, “having the name of something gives you power over it. Never give them your full name, but a nickname will do just fine. The wee folk can’t tell lies, you see, and they expect the same from you or me. Don’t give them your real name, but don’t give them a fake one either, or they’ll grow angry. A nickname should do just fine.”

“I thought fairies were supposed to be good?” You questioned, wrinkling your nose in confusion. The old man let out a chuckle, smiling at you warmly as the kindness returned to him.

“They can be, little Puck,” he amended, patting your head gently. “But best not to take the chance, agreed?”

Then he had placed a kiss to the top of your head and bid you a goodnight, leaving you to ponder his words as you drifted off to sleep, thoughts of dancing figures and jingling laughter flitting through your head.

Years passed from that moment, and you were now a young adult on the cusp of starting your official adult life. Exams had finished, and you had earned your degree, actively on the hunt for a job with several prospects. You toyed with the idea of taking a few months off to allow yourself time to breathe before undertaking the task of real adult responsibilities, which your parents assured you were much more demanding than the responsibilities you’d had in college.

“Finding a job is important,” your mother had said, “but you should take some time to enjoy being young. Take the summer, honey. There’ll be jobs waiting for you when you’re ready.”

The issue was further pressed when your friends Caroline and Brianna had invited you on a summer trip to Scotland.

“Oh, please, Puck?” Caroline begged, blue eyes wide and pleading as she grabbed your hands from across the table. “It won’t be as much fun without you there.”

“She’s right,” Brianna nodded, leaning into the blonde sitting across from you. “It’s all or nothing.”

“Are you two paying for my ticket?” You snorted, gazing between your two best friends. Caroline’s eyes lit up in a familiar twinkle that immediately had you shaking your head. “Nuh uh. No way. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. “You know my parents won’t care. They’re too busy vacationing in Switzerland this summer to care what I’m doing with their money.”

You grimaced. You loved Caroline dearly, and you wonder every day how she didn’t end up as an out of touch rich kid, especially with how absent her parents seemed to be.

“If you’re taking advantage of her, then so am I, Puck,” Brianna smiled, wagging her brows at you. Brianna was a spunky brunette with an eye for numbers, having graduated alongside you and Caroline with a degree in engineering. “Besides, this’ll be our last chance to spend some time together before you move overseas and then we’ll never get to see you.”

That was also true. You had been accepted into the Medieval and Renaissance Studies program at the University College London and would be moving before the start of the new term. You chewed on your bottom lip, peering up to look between your two best friends. Caroline wore her pleading expression again while Brianna looked at you expectantly. You let out a sigh, watching as the two of them grinned at you, knowing they had won.

“Alright, fine.”

“I knew you wouldn’t turn down a free trip!” Caroline exclaimed, earning half-hearted glares from the other patrons in the small cafe. Paying them no mind, she pulled out her phone to start making plans.

“Alright, where do we want to go?”

Two weeks later, you stood on the platform in the highland town of Inverness, waiting for your friends to catch up with you with their luggage in hand. You were excited to see the rich history of the highlands with your own eyes, having convinced Caroline and Brianna almost immediately with their love for the show “Outlander,” and while you adored the show just as much, it was the history and the folklore you were after. The air was cool, but not cold as you stepped out into the square, taking in the stone buildings and the overcast sky. Above, seagulls cried out, eyeing the ground below for their next easy meal.

“Do you have the address for the hotel?” Asked Caroline as she rummaged through her bag beside you.

“Sure do,” you chirped, watching the different people walk along the streets as you waited for your app to load. Brianna let out a loud yawn beside you, rubbing at her eyes.

“How long have we been awake?” She grumbled, checking her phone with a weary blink of her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied, bouncing from one foot to the other in excitement. “We can’t go to sleep until later or we’ll be jetlagged the whole trip.”

Brianna mumbled something under her breath, but you paid her no mind, knowing how cranky she got when sleep deprived.

“I say we drop our stuff off at the hotel, get something to eat, and then pick a pub to spend the rest of the night in,” Caroline grinned from beside you. Brianna wrinkled her nose at the idea, but you bumped her shoulder with yours as you smiled.

“Come on, Bri,” you chuckled. “How often are we going to get to do this after this trip?”

She didn’t look convinced as the three of you made your way in the direction of the hotel, your suitcases clacking against the cobblestone beneath you.

“What if we let you sleep in as long as you want tomorrow?” Caroline suggested, earning a thoughtful look from the brunette. You sighed, wincing internally at Caroline’s suggestion. Brianna was known to sleep long and hard, and the three of you had reservations to go to.

“As long as you want without missing anything,” you amended, shooting a look at Caroline. Knowing she was outvoted, Brianna let out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, fine,” she relented. “But I get to pick where we get food.”

A/N: And we're off! I realize that this is an incredibly niche character from a fandom long past, but I'm excited for this! This will definitely be my little pet project to keep me writing, and I hope you guys stick around for the journey because this is another story that started out as an original fiction. If you've been around long enough, you'll know I love taking my original fiction ideas and turning them into fanfic to see how people receive them. But we're back in my Teen Wolf era, folks!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!