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maidragoste · 5 months

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Chapter Two: A United Front

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One

First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰

Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.

The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.

“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.

You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him…Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.

"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.

"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.

Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."

"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."

For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.

"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.

Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.

"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"

You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.

Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.

So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.

"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."

You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.

“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.

Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.

As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.

Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.

“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.

“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.

“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.

"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.

"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.

Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.

"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.

"What?"

"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.

"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.

It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.

“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.

Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.

You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”

Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.

He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.

Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.

"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.

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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

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Kurapika Yandere Alphabet

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: brief nsfw(mention of Kurapika eating pussy), reader gets Stockholm syndrome, abduction, Kurapika forces reader to do things like take medicine when she’s sick or restrains her if she tries to hurt herself/escape, self harm, suicide/suicidal thoughts, restraint, isolation

A/N: I’m opening up requests for Yandere Alphabets!! Send your fav ADULT HXH/JJK character and I’ll make one :3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Kurapika is very detail oriented, he shows his love by making sure the space you have is decorated exactly like your room in your home was. He spoils you with gifts and sweet treats, though he leaves them at your door or on your bed like a cat bringing you a dead mouse.

His love gets intense when you find out about his feelings and eventually return them. He’s the only other human being in your life, and you desperately need comfort and touch.

When you come to him for affection, he gets intense, he’ll hold you close, visibly trembling as he rubs soothing circles into your back. His eyes will flicker to your lips, hungry for kisses or even just to press his thumb into your soft lip.

When he comes home upset or goes through a depressive episode, he’ll want to hold you. Sometimes he holds you so tight his fingers leave imprints on whatever he’s gripping, be it your thighs sides, or back. He’ll kiss whatever mark he leaves on your skin, whispering apologies through tears.

“I’m such a hypocrite… I was supposed to protect you, but look… look at these marks on your pretty skin… I’m so sorry angel, please forgive me.”

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He’s willing to do next to anything to keep his darling safe and happy as possible. If that means killing masses of people that could potentially hurt you, he doesn’t mind baring that sin.

You are his angel, he would do anything for you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

After being abducted, he treats you probably the best any yandere could. He decorates your room to look as close to your previous one as possible, makes sure all of your needs are met and that you’re as spoiled as you can be.

He would never mock you, Kurapika wants his darling to love him. With all the lengths he’s gone to just to make you happy, he wouldn’t give that all up even if he was angry.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, besides abducting you, he’s not willing to do much against your will. If you’re trying to hurt yourself or escape, he’ll restrain you, but that’s it. Also, if you refuse to take medication when you’re ill or if he NEEDS you to do something for your own benefit he’ll make you do it, but he never makes you do something FOR him.

He would never force himself on you, ever. Kurapika loves his darling more than anything, and he’s still holding onto his morals.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

At first, he is very distant and even cold. Kurapika is more likely to have a darling he was friends with before abducting her, so they’d have to already be relatively close already.

After a few months with him, he’ll begin to relax around you again, like he did before he abducted you. For the first few months he’ll barely touch you, wanting to give you space and time to get used to your new life.

Once he’s comfortable, he’ll come to you when he’s upset searching for comfort and care. Just having you in the same house as him is enough to keep him from falling apart, but actually feeling your touch while he sobs after a nightmare is heavenly.

He’s happy to tell you how much he cares about you and how this is for your safety, but he’s hesitant to express his more romantic feelings. He’s already kidnapped you and taken you away from everyone and everything you loved, he doesn’t feel like he deserves you.

But when you return his feelings due to him being the only other human you have contact with, he is more than happy to shower you in love and affection. You’d be surprised at how cuddly and affectionate he is!

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Honestly? Betrayed and hurt. He’s given you everything you could ever want and need, and you’re still fighting him. Part of him understands that no matter what he does, he still kidnapped you and no gifts or privileges will make you happy to be imprisoned with him.

The selfish and delusional part of him, however, gets irrationally angry. He would never hurt you, and isn’t inclined to scream, but he gets so cold and distant, after a week of him taking away some privileges and barely speaking to you, you’ll be crawling back begging for his comfort and care. You’re only human after all. The boredom and loneliness would be enough to kill you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Absolutely not, he nearly has a heart attack when you attempt to escape. Your safety is his number one goal, so seeing you attempt something so dangerous terrifies him!

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Two things!

1. For the first few months, he’ll chain her when he leaves the cabin for longer than a few hours. Of course the chain will be long enough so she can walk to the bathroom and she’ll have enough food, but it’s heavy and inconvenient. After you’ve settled in and given up on escaping, he’ll stop chaining you. Good thing too, because those things were heavy, and chaffing!

2. If you’ve pissed him off somehow or have been bad, he will straight up isolate you. He’s the only other human being you have contact with, so imagine being deprived of all social interaction for months at a time. The first few days you’re almost relieved to have some time to yourself. He never bothered you too much, but you didn’t exactly enjoy his presence. But after a while, the loneliness will set in. You’ll be crawling back to him for forgiveness within a week.

Besides that he’s pretty tame for a yandere. He won’t hurt you or try to break you psychologically. He barely punishes you, so as long as you behave decently, you’re fine.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/ with their darling?

He wants to start a family with you! Due to his entire clan being wiped out, he’s the only one left. Kurapika wants you to have his children, desperately.

He knows it will take a while for you to get used to being kidnapped, so he won’t bring this up until after you’ve accepted your fate and fallen in love with him.

“Angel… dont you think… you’d be a great mother?”

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets incredibly jealous of anyone that gets too close to you. Before he took you, he would accompany you to little get together with your friends. You were pretty popular, getting hit on by multiple men and women.

“She’s not interested,” Kurapika would say, his eyes a sharp scarlet as he stood behind you, a protective hand on your shoulder. His eyes follow them as they leave, and once they’re gone he caresses your cheek. “Let’s leave, some of these people are creeps…”

He becomes a bit possessive of you over time, but you chalk it up to him being protective over his friends. You find it cute, not knowing how much of a red flag it is.

Once he takes you, his jealous and possessive tendencies dissipate, and it turns into a more protective nature. You don’t have any contact with other people, so he doesn’t feel the need to be jealous. The only contact you get is with Leorio when he comes to give you a checkup, and Kurapika watches him the entire time.

There’s no use trying to beg Leorio to get you out of there, he knows you’re being held against your will. Although he’s sympathetic, he cares about his friend more than you, and knows you being near Kurapika helps him relax. Kurapika also is more careful with his life, wanting to stay alive to protect and love you the rest of his days. So Leorio will just sigh, patting your back.

“Sorry, (Name), but I can’t help you. Kurapika needs you.”

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

In love, very sweet and soft. Although his darling might see him as a bit cold and stiff, he’s actually flustered, and trying to hide how much his heart is racing when you’re near.

He attempts to touch you as much as possible, even if it’s just lightly bumping you while passing you in the hallway. Kurapika knows you probably hate him now, and he won’t push you into being close with him, but he’ll take these little touches and use them for comfort.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When he falls for you, he’s been your friend for a while now. At first he tries to distance himself, hoping those fuzzy feelings of love will go away, but when they don’t, they turn into almost an obsession.

He’ll buy you gifts and try to spend more time with you between missions, until he basically lives at your home. Before taking you, he becomes quite clingy, wanting to soak up all of your love and attention before you may hate him for kidnapping you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He acts pretty much the same, but he’s much more loving and sweet with you, doting on you a lot. Nothing is too good for his darling!

When around other people, he’s cold and distant, but as soon as you appear he’s brightening up a bit!

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He takes away the TV and other items used for entertainment, and if you’ve done something to hurt yourself he’ll chain you up. The restraint is less of a punishment, more of a way for his paranoid mind to relax knowing you can’t hurt yourself now that you’re chained to your bed.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He’s a very soft and forgiving yandere, and only takes away SOME privileges with very bad behavior. He’ll take away the TV, a few of your art supplies and maybe your switch. He’s very careful, leaving you with at least two things to keep you from going crazy with boredom, usually books and/or your journals to write in. After all, it’s a punishment, but it’s supposed to be for your own good. If he’s harming you, then it’s not working.

Kurapika would rather die than watch you become depressed and suicidal, so even when you haven’t been behaving, he tries to not be too upset with you and make sure he isn’t too harsh. Even if you made him angry, you’ll always be treated like a princess.

If you hurt yourself or attempt to end your life, he goes nearly insane with worry and guilt. Hadn’t he been providing you with enrichment and the best, most comfortable life possible? He knows he kidnapped you, but do you hate the life he’s given you so much that you’d rather die?

He’ll chain you up after this. It’s just a chain that attaches to your bed. He’ll unlock you for exercise and to take you to the bathroom, and be prepared to get used to him watching your every single movement. He WILL be watching you use the bathroom and shower. You won’t even be able to wipe yourself in peace, the embarrassment may just kill you. “Just ignore me. I’m simply making sure you don’t try anything.”

The worst thing he’ll do is ignore/isolate you. You’ll barely see him, and he won’t speak a single word to you until you’ve apologized and realized why he does what he does. “It’s for your own good. You can learn to accept that, or you can get used to being alone.”

Kurapika is perfectly content to just exist alongside you, he can wait forever.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Oh he’s almost endlessly patient. Kurapika may be a bit delusional in some aspects, but he is very aware that what he did to you is wrong. He won’t blame you for acting out or trying to escape, you’re human after all.

He’ll never expect you to fall in love with him, even if he desperately craves your touch. Kurapika will wait though, hoping you’ll see how much he cares for you, and maybe reciprocate his overwhelming feelings.

He only loses his patience when he’s already angry/stressed, and may yell a bit. He’s quick to apologize and remove himself from the room. Kurapika doesn’t want you to be afraid of him.

He’s only ever thrown a real tantrum once, ending up destroying the living room and scaring you half to death. Kurapika couldn’t apologize enough, and it was the first time he ever held you close to him and wouldn’t let you go. “God… please, please don’t be scared of me. I promise I would never hurt you, this isn’t your fault, fuck, (Name)… you’re shaking. I’m so sorry…”

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Nope. He would straight up kill himself after accomplishing his mission. If he can’t find you, he has no reason to keep living after he’s killed the phantom troupe and retrieved the scarlet eyes.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He feels extremely guilty, and on the first day of your capture, he keeps considering just taking you back before you wake up. The two of you were already friends, he’s terrified to see your opinion of him change.

But he pushes all of that away. He can never let you go, knowing that people want to hurt you because of your ties to him.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I think it’s pretty obvious to say it was the massacre of his clan that made him like this. He doesn’t want to lose the person he cherishes most after losing all of his family and friends.

You’re so precious to him, someone that would hold him after his nightmares and smile while baking him a birthday cake. He knows taking you away may make you hate him, but he can’t stand the thought of losing you. He once thought humanity was doomed, but you’re the only other human he sees any light in.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Absolute agony. Although your safety always comes first, Kurapika desperately wants you to be happy as well. He’ll try everything to cheer you up. Gifts, renting your favorite movies, making your favorite dishes, ordering your favorite takeout food…

“Oh angel, please… please don’t cry. I know it’s scary and upsetting to be here, but I promise… that you’re safe. Look, I brought you some dinner!”

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Kurapika is hellbent on making you happy and comfortable, so he goes to great lengths to spoil you with gifts and comfort items. Unlike most yanderes that would use this as an attempt to get you to like them, Kurapika spoils you purely because of his undying love for you, and his need to see you happy.

He’d do anything for you besides let you free. His heart is yours, and so is whatever your heart wants. Stuffed animals, your favorite snacks, nice clothes and jewelry, anything. Nothing is too good for you, if it makes you happy, even for a SECOND Kurapika is more than happy to get it for you.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He adores you through and through, so returning his affection and accepting his gifts will make him a lot more lenient. He’s willing to let you go outside, and if you build up his trust enough he might even let you go outside alone. There’s a fence surrounding your home, so he’s able to not worry too much…

If you’re able to climb that fence, you may have a chance at escaping! If he does catch you though, his heart will be shattered and he’ll have trouble trusting you for a long time. All the progress you both made will be gone.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, he would not intentionally hurt his darling. Now, there is a chance he could grab her too hard and break a bone due to his strength, but this would absolutely shatter him. He’d be so much softer and lenient with you, healing your wound and holding you close as he sobs and begs for your forgiveness.

This is one of the times he considers letting you go. He’s supposed to protect you, and now he’s the cause of your pain… but his selfish heart refuses to let you free. He is more willing to let you go outside and explore though, as long as you hold onto his hand.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He worships the very ground you walk on. Kurapika is incredibly soft and sweet, and willing to give you endless affection and spoil you, if you would allow it. You’re the only thing keeping him from snapping, and you bring him so much happiness. He’s never been in love before, you’re all he has left.

He will buy anything, do ALMOST anything to win you over. Kurapika is the head of a mafia group, he has money to spend. Spoiling you is no problem for him, sometimes he’ll come home with his arms full of stuffed animals, new clothes, and sweets for you.

When you finally have sex for the first time, he spends the first hour between your legs, eating your pussy and cooing soft praise, telling you how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. It’s worship, for sure. He sees you as a perfect angel.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He pines over her for a good few months, then takes you when he realizes his enemies have caught wind of your existence. Kurapika wanted to get into a romantic relationship and have you come with him willingly, but life never seems to be fair to Kurapika.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Absolutely not. His darling is his everything, and he wouldn’t have gone through all the effort of making you happy just to break you. He wants you to be yourself, that’s who he fell in love with!

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uglypastels · 2 years

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Heaven and Hell // (Stranger Things) S.H. x reader x E.M. smut

requests: @ami-is-hungry -- Omgg okay- hear me out-- So, we're at a party y'know we have been dating Steve for aaa few months, and we're not really into parties like that so we invite our best friend Eddie the hot Munson. Steve gets jealous and boom threesome?? jkjk unless 😩✨

@ anon: PLEASE CAN WE GET A THREESOME W EDDIE AND STEVE!! I BEG YOU I NEED IT SO BAD

a/n: you ask and you shall receive!! I had a lot of fun writing this and thank you both for sending in the request as I really needed it to get back into the writing game- also saying that I haven´t written anything in ages and I haven´t written any ST stuff since... season 2 came out??? so I might be a bit rusty. none the less, I hope you enjoy!! Also, in my mind, Eddie´s closest friends (aka reader) call him Munchy, so yeah, that will be coming back in any other fics i write i think. Also plot might be a bit iffy, but let´s be real, no one is here for that.

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word count: 6022

warning: jealous boyfriend!steve, female reader, drugs, drinking, smut (characters are 18+, minors DNI!) -- mmf threesome, blindfold, sex under influence, unprotected sex (no-no), oral (f/m receiving), hair pulling, one ¨slut¨, face sitting, cum stuff. no specific dom/sub dynamic but Eddie kinda takes charge, it just kind of happened.

Big black shape with eyes of fire Telling people their desire - Black Sabbath

‘Oh god, what is Munson doing here?’ Steve muttered into your ear. You sat next to your boyfriend, practically on his lap and entangled in his limbs, while sipping some stale beer from a red solo cup. Then, at the sound of your friend’s name, your head spun in the direction of the door, where you could see his uncombed mop of hair stick out above the masses of hairspray and gel.

‘I invited him,’ you said matter-of-factly, waving Eddie over. Steve’s eyes bulged in confusion.

‘What? You… invited Eddie the Freak Munson? Why?’

‘Because he’s my friend and now, besides you, the only person I can actually stand in this shithole.’ You got up from the couch to hug Eddie. His arm wrapped themselves around you in a tight and warm embrace that felt nothing but like homely comfort to you. It was a gift which he was very generous with to others.

‘I’m so happy you could make it, Munchy.’ You said mid-hug, squeezing him a little bit tighter.

‘You know I can never say no to that gorgeous smile, M’lady. And the number of people I could score a deal with here, I’ll be able to feast for weeks!’ With his arm still around your shoulder, he looked in search of a new investment, someone looking for a good time. Then you also noticed he was carrying his, to say the least, iconic black toolbox under his arm.

‘Alright, let’s break this up, shall we?’ Steve got up from his seat, popping his head between you and Eddie, pushing you slightly apart. ‘Let’s not get too comfortable, yeah, Munson?’

‘Don’t worry, Harrington, I’d never dare steal this lady from you.’ Eddie’s smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you or your boyfriend, which probably wasn’t helping the situation. You had known for a long time how jealous and overprotective Steve could get– well, you had heard about it from the girls he had dated in the past, yet never had experienced it first-hand yourself, as you had never found yourself in a situation where Steve would have felt threatened. Indeed, you had never expected this to finally happen with your best friend. The idea alone was ridiculous.

‘Yeah, well, we’ll see about that, ok?’ Steve grabbed you in an embrace, stating his position clear to everyone, specifically Eddie.

‘Whatever, man.’ Eddie rolled his eyes, then looked at you, ‘you’re still up for it later?’

‘Mhm, totally.’

‘Later? What’s up later?’ Steve, already feeling three steps behind, looked at you for clarity, so you explained it.

‘Was going to go outside for a bit, smoke some of Eddie’s good stuff… you can join, of course. If you’d like to.’

‘Sure.’ Steve didn’t even hesitate. He glared quickly over at Eddie, who giggled behind his hand at the thought of Steve Harrington smoking a joint for, what probably would be, his first time. He told you he’s meet you out back later after he’d make some sales with the people on the part. So, already looking forward to catching some fresh air, you took Steve by the hand and led him out to the backyard. It was surprisingly empty, with most party-goers still inside the house. You found two declining garden chairs and pushed them into a far corner of the garden, where you would be less likely to be disturbed.

Steve sat down on one chair, and you were ready to sit on the other, but he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you down to sit on his lap.

‘Hey there, sailor,’ you kissed his cheek.

‘I’d really prefer for you to not call me that anymore.’

‘Hmm, I know but “sailor” is so much better than “home video man”,’ you giggled.

‘Oh god, stop.’ Steve groaned, but you kept coming up with job titles to call him, even when he started leaving sloppy kisses across your exposed skin.

‘Rental boy?’ He kissed your neck. ‘Hmm, I can’t come up with anything better. So, sailor, it’s.’ Steve’s mouth moved down to your collarbone, which peaked out of your shirt.

You weren’t sure how far you would have taken it on that garden chair if it wasn’t for the voice you heard behind you.

‘Don’t mind me, you two,’ followed by a flicker of a lighter and an orange spark of light.

‘Shit. Eddie, sorry.’ You pulled away from Steve and wanted to get up to face Eddie, but Steve had different plans, keeping you fastly seated on top of him. With his arms around you, you had nowhere to go.

‘No, it’s fine. I had voyeurism on my try-out list anyway,’ he put a neatly rolled up joint between his lips, flicking the lighter on again. The flame lit up his face as he hid it from your vision with his hands, needing to protect it from the soft wind blowing around you. The flame caught on and burned the tip of the joint. It already had a strong smell, but the smoke that Eddie blew out only made it spread out faster and with more intensity.

‘You’re disgusting,’ you laughed and watched Eddie let himself fall onto the other chair next to you. He then winked as he took a long drag of the joint.

He exhaled and was finally able to speak. ‘Mmm, you know it, baby, whoo!’ The smoke came out with his words, and he cheered for the effect it already had on him. You didn’t want to miss out on any more of it and took the joint out of his hand. Steve had not said a word yet, but you felt his eyes on you as your lips touched the rolled-up paper. The smoke filled your lungs quickly, slightly painfully, with the overcoming burning sensation that you had grown to love so bitterly.

Not wanting to let the smoke out, you couldn’t talk, just hum to get Steve’s attention.

‘What?’ He tried to ask, but you were quicker with pressing your lips onto him. Like that, you let the smoke travel between you. Knowing it would be the only way for Steve to get high and not pester you with complaints afterwards, it was a strategy.

‘Oh shit,’ he coughed after you let go. ‘That is disgusting.’

‘Just let it do its magic, Harrington,’ Eddie put his arm behind his head as he looked at the dark sky above you. The stars were mostly hidden behind even darker clouds, but some shined through. Steve coughed a little bit more.

‘Shit, Steve, I’ll go get you some water.’ You would get up, but Steve didn’t let you go.

‘No, I’m fine, y/n. It’s fine.’

‘Ok, then I’m gonna get myself some water.’ You pulled his hands away from your waist and got up, quickly striding back inside. You found some water bottles in the fridge in the kitchen, grabbed three, and walked just as quickly back. With the only two people you were interested in talking to sitting outside, you had no business staying in the room. You wanted to get out of there before some drunken asshole started to talk you up, or someone would spill their drink on you.

You managed exactly that and got back outside to find the most unusual image. Steve and Eddie passed the joint between themselves, giggling like two school girls.

‘What did I miss?’ you asked curiously, handing them their own ice-cold water bottle. Steve immediately started drinking his, but Eddie filled you in on the last few minutes.

‘We were just talking.’

‘About?’ You decided to sit on the ground. The freshly cut grass smelled so much better than the grass being smoked up by the three of you.

‘You.’ Steve said, which made you raise an eyebrow, so he added: ‘and how pretty you are.’ It really took him that fast to be out of it, huh? You couldn’t help but laugh. There was no way those two idiots had just spent the previous five minutes gushing about you. Well, maybe Steve, but why would Eddie…

‘No, it’s true,’ Eddie said, nodding lightly and handing you what was still left of the joint. ‘You’re like… insanely hot.’

‘Dude!’ Steve said, ‘that’s still my girlfriend you’re talking about.’

‘Yeah, believe me, I know.’ Eddie kept his head up on his knuckles. You couldn’t tell if the hazy smile came from the drugs or something else. You also started to feel that “insanely hot” comment slightly too literally as your face heated up. Hearing Steve compliment you as he does was still something you weren’t wholly grown used to, but now Eddie was sitting next to you, looking at you the way he does with those big brown eyes of his, not to mention the weed was hitting all the right spots… you were getting dizzy.

Or maybe you had inhaled it for too long because suddenly, you were coughing. Finally, one of them unscrewed the cap of your bottle, and you downed the contents.

‘Fuck- thanks,’ by your own voice, you had still gone a bit sore, but at least you weren’t choking on smoke any longer.

‘Are you ok?’ It was Eddie who asked; he had come off the chair to sit on the ground next to you, his hand on your shoulder. His face was full of concern. Steve had the same expression on his features, just a few feet away. And then he registered Eddie’s position next to you, and some anger overtook him.

‘You see she’s fine, Munson. Back off.’

‘I’m not doing anything, man.’ Eddie laughed, and his words were echoed by you: ‘he’s not doing anything, Steve. Calm down.’

‘I want to but it’s really hard to do when this guy wants to fuck you this bad.’

‘Woah! Woah! Woah! Take a step down Harrington!’ Then, as if you were burning up, Eddie jumped up and stepped back. ‘No one– there is nothing– No.’

‘We’re just friends.’ You went in to defend your best friend. Here it was; Steve’s jealous side was showing its true colours.

‘I believe you, y/n.’ Steve said, ‘it’s the Freak that I don’t trust.’

‘Steve,’ you weren’t enjoying where this was headed and wanted to break it off before it would go too far and someone would get seriously upset. But Steve’s words didn’t have that effect on Eddie, apparently. He laughed, actually.

‘No, it’s alright, y/n. I get it. I would be jealous too if I had a girlfriend like you, an unmatched ego without any skill to please a woman.’

Steve didn’t hesitate, nor did he waste a second to get up and press himself up against Eddie. They were ready to fight, you could tell as you were trying to pry yourself between them and keep whatever was happening in check.

‘Guys–’ you tried, but it all fell on deaf ears. There was only one other thing you thought of, but it felt ridiculous to say out loud, and it had a significant chance of making things even worse than they were, but the drugs were working their natural magic on you, and your verbal filter was shut off for the moment. So, you said that slightly intrusive thought when it popped up in your brain.

‘So prove it!’ You shouted while both of them were yelling something vague about being really good in bed. Those three words coming from your mouth were enough for them to halt their silly fight and look at you dumbfounded.

‘What are you talking about?’ Steve asked.

‘You’re both trying to outdo the other and you’re both saying how great you fuck, so… prove it. Both of you. Fuck me.’

‘No way.’ ‘Okay.’

They glared at each other at the sound of the other one’s answers.

‘What do you mean, “okay”?’ Steve said.

‘What, are you too pussy Harrington?’ Eddie was probably taking a greater enjoyment out of annoying Steve than he would have by having sex with you. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, and it only grew in size as he got under your boyfriend’s nerves.

‘Seriously, cut it out.’

‘I’m just following the lady’s orders, man! Can’t say no to lady!’

Steve looked at you, then at Eddie. Then back at you. He sighed slowly and wildly exaggerated before rubbing the bridge of his nose. ‘What exactly did you have in mind, y/n?’

‘I– hadn’t actually thought that far ahead,’ you admitted, ‘just thought… you guys could figure it out. So play nice and fair, and all that, figure out your own problems amongst each other.

‘And what? You would just be… doing what, exactly?’

‘Enjoying myself.’ you couldn’t keep back the smile on your face. How ridiculous it sounded; you kind of wanted it to happen now. Steve and Eddie were standing in front of you, looking at you with most likely very similar thoughts running through all your heads. Or, you hoped that while you were thinking of what they could do to you, they were thinking of what they would do to you.

‘This is insane. Actually insane.’ Steve suddenly turned around and started talking to himself. ‘I can’t believe I’m— and you’re ok with this?’ he faced you and looked you dead in the eye. The lump in your throat went down slowly, but you nodded.

‘Say it. I gotta hear you say it.’

‘Yes. I’m perfectly ok with it, Steve.’ You both looked at Eddie, who seemed, then confirmed, not to have a single issue with this plan.

‘Ok,’ Steve let out another sigh. He was about to say something before changing his mind quickly. ‘Actually, no, can you give us a moment,’ he asked Eddie and then took you by the hand and led you a few feet away from where you were standing. It wasn’t the actual privacy, as Eddie could still most likely hear what you were talking about, more so the idea of privacy while you discussed everything.

‘Right, so, seriously, what was you idea for this?’

‘I really had not thought you’d consider it, Steve,’ you laughed out of nerves, ‘I mostly just said it so you wouldn’t beat each other up. There’s no need for you to break your nose. Not again.’ That got a little smile out of Steve, but it faded with his next question:

‘This isn’t some weird scheme to just hook up with Eddie, is it?’

‘Now I want to punch you. No, Steve it really isn’t. I would have so many more and easier ways to hook up with him, and you wouldn’t even have had to know.’

‘Ok, well… wait, what?’ There had been a slight delay in Steve’s mind. You had already been walking back to the chairs when he let your words form entirely. You blew him a quick kiss.

‘Everything figured out there?’ Eddie asked when you came back.

‘Mostly, I think.’

+++++++++

You were the first one that walked upstairs. Everyone knew Steve, and Eddie stood out in his own little way, so you were the most inconspicuous of the three of you. You looked around the upstairs corridor and searched for an unoccupied and reasonably clean room. It felt wrong to be scouting for a sex room in a stranger’s house, but the adrenaline and the weed were taking over your morals that night.

The last room on the left had a made-up king-sized bed and a dresser in it; the unpersonal touch in the interior indicated to you that it was, in fact, a spare guest room, the best possible out of all them.

You sat down at the edge of the bed, ignoring the nerves coming up inside. Should you get undressed or let them have that fun? Was sitting like that ok? Or maybe they expected a little show? You had no idea what to do.

Then there was a soft knock on the other side of the room. Nervous, you jumped up to open the door yourself and, to your surprise, both men were standing in the corridor, even after you had decided it would be best for them to come in separately to not draw in any nosy bastards that were also at the party.

‘We were thinking,’ Eddie said while stepping inside the room, already making you regret leaving the two of them alone for the second time that night. ‘And we want you to put this on.’ He showed you the bandana that he had hanging from his jeans.

‘Don’t worry, it’s clean.’ He added and handed you the piece of material. It was soft and, indeed, looked clean.

‘What am I supposed to do with it, exactly?’

‘Nothing, really,’ Steve came up from behind you and took the bandana. He gently draped it in front of your eyes and tied it by the two ends behind your side. ‘It’s just for you too look pretty.’ His words send shivers down your spine. They wanted to blindfold you. Take away an entire sense for the night that would most likely end up in a lot of overstimulation.

‘We thought this would make things a bit more fair,’ Eddie sounded much closer to you than initially, his words whispered right into your ear. ‘Besides, it would calm Harrington down knowing you’re not only with him for his boyish charm and looks.’

That pulled a laugh out of you that Steve probably took slightly personally. But if so, he didn’t let that be heard. His hands, for you’d recognise his touch at any time, moved over your body as he spoke. ‘We’ll undress you now, alright, sweetheart?’

‘O-ok.’ you didn’t know where the shake in your voice was coming from.

‘And as we keep going, we’ll ask you how you feel, so it’s important you be honest with us, got it?’ Eddie was on your other side; you felt like your little Devil and Angel were talking to you, except both were absolutely filthy, and neither had much pureness in them planned for the night.

‘Yes.’

‘Good girl. Keep it up just like this.’

You didn’t know if Eddie was talking about the blindfold or your willingness to give into them. Then, both of them took a step back from you. The light was dimmed in the room, so you couldn’t see anything from behind the blindfold even if you tried. With one sense taken away from you, you tried to focus on everything else, and you could hear them shuffle around a bit, but it wasn’t possible to figure out which one of them had positioned themselves on your left and which one on your right.

A cold hand reached out for you, making you shiver from the suddenness. They moved slowly over your body before reaching for the buttons on your shirt. It was Steve’s shirt actually, an old one you borrowed before going to the party. You had been at his place, too lazy to head back to your own house to change. Never in a million years had you thought then that you would be being undressed by Steve and Eddie four hours later. The shirt was pulled off your arms, and you could hear it fall to the ground in a corner. It was thrown back there. Then either of them made a start on taking off your trousers. It was a slow, fumbly and awkward process, making you giggle as it went on, but the kisses he (whoever he in this scenario may have been) left down your leg as he pulled your jeans down made your laugh just that little bit shakier.

You were left only in your underwear then. There were moments when you could have sworn it sounded like more clothes were coming off, but in the darkness, everything got more confusing, and you couldn’t be certain of anything.

‘I really hope I’m not the only one getting naked,’ you asked nervously. They didn’t respond, verbally at least. Instead, they both took you by the hand and guided you forward. Then you felt it, two chests, skin soft and much warmer than the icy cold hands that had teased you earlier and were still holding on to you. But they let go soon after, leaving you to explore what was in front of you on your own. So you did; moving your hands up and down, you could feel both men had taken their shirts off.

Your hands moved down, expecting some kind of layers, but nothing was left. A soft belly, a hip dip– ‘Oh god, I’m sorry,’ you pulled your hands away when you realised what you had just touched.

‘It’s ok, baby,’ Steve reassured you. You took a deep breath, but it only got harder to breathe when Steve whispered his following words: ‘did you feel how hard I am for you?’

‘Yes,’ you whimpered. He was still standing there. Too far to actually be touching you, maybe just an inch or so, but you felt his presence near you. A warmth radiating off his body onto you. His breath on your shoulder. You wanted to look into his eyes, kiss him, but that wasn’t what the guys had planned, it seemed like, so you stayed put.

‘Are you gonna fuck her, Harrington, or are we just gonna stand around?’ evidently, Eddie was getting restless.

‘Way to ruin the surprise there, Munson,’ Steve groaned. Right. They didn’t want you to know who was doing what to you. That way, you’d be able to “judge” fairly. Without knowing who was doing what, you’d be able to say what felt better without feeling the need to be partial to either of them.

‘I’m sorry, was the surprise to bore your girlfriend to sleep? Is that the “freaky” shit you two are up to without me? Jesus,’ he sighed out the small curse. Then he, you assumed it was Eddie, at least, guided you over to the edge of the bed. You sat down on the mattress while the guys shuffled around a little bit, and the idea of them trying to figure out a position to stand in while naked was quite amusing to you.

Then, Steve said from the other side of the room: ‘y/n, why don’t you lie down for us, baby.’ And so you did, already anticipating what would come next– and you could feel the anxiety through your entire body. Waiting for either of them to finally touch you.

And one of them finally did. Soft and slow kisses on your thighs as hands kept you steady between him. He spread your legs gently but still let his lips trail over your legs, teasing you effortlessly.

‘Please,’ you said after what felt like an eternity. ‘I need you.’ You hoped that by saying this, you would find out who your torturer was, but not a peep came out of either man. It was a confusing situation, not being able to see the man that was pleasuring you the way that “he” was. You wanted to be able to praise them, tell them properly how much you enjoyed it, and for selfish reasons, you wanted to see it happen. The image of one of those incredibly handsome men worshipping your body– but all you saw was pitch darkness.

‘C’mon, please,’ you tried again, and it was slightly more successful this time. Your panties were pulled aside, and a little puff of air blew over your sensitive skin, hitting the nerves of your clit. And then their fingers, you still didn’t know whose fingers they were, but the feeling of them on you felt like a little piece of heaven. Maybe it was Steve, which wouldn’t surprise you– he always loved to take his time with you and use you as his little plaything– but perhaps had Eddie taken off his large rings to not give himself away too quickly. But, as much as you wanted to use logic to figure it out, it was too much. You couldn’t concentrate on figuring out who the person hovering above you was when their fingers were moving over your soaked slit.

They moved faster, rubbing circles, then slowed down, and then moved deeper with each tender stroke until you felt him stretch out your walls. A moan escaped you, too loud for your own liking. Not ten minutes had gone by, and you were already giving them this kind of satisfaction… but how could you not when they fingerfucked you so well. He sped up with each moan you made.

‘Oh my god,’ the heat that overtook your body could have come from plenty of reasons, but it was most likely the feeling of that perfect mouth between your legs. At this point, you didn’t even want to ruin the mystery, and instead of grabbing at their hair, you reached for a clump of the sheets to drag your nails over.

Apparently, that disappointment in action was shared because the person taking care of you quickly reached for your hand and placed it on top of their head. Your fingers immediately rooted themselves in their soft hair. Soft, long… different from what you were used to…

‘Fuck, Eddie,’ you moaned and, being able to say his name, slightly untied the knot in your stomach. ‘I’m- ah, fuck.’ The blindfold had little effect now, so you pulled the material off your face with your free hand. The light in the room, still dim, wasn’t blinding but took a moment to get used to. But once you did, you were greeted with the gorgeous image of a pair of deep brown eyes looking up at you, his casual smirk temporarily occupied with your slit as he sucked on it, pulling another moan out of you.

You looked around for Steve and didn’t need to search far, as he had taken a seat in the chair in the corner, his hand on his dick, and his head was thrown back.

‘Steve,’ you called out your boyfriend’s name as casually as you could while another man was eating you out. He immediately met your gaze, surprised to see your eyes uncovered. He had probably made his way over to you in less than a second, perhaps thinking you were in pain or some other discomfort, ready to help.

‘Babe–’ You didn’t let him finish his sentence. Instead, you opened your mouth and looked up at him as innocently as you could.

‘You’re gonna be the death of me,’ Steve chuckled, getting on top of the bed. ‘Absolute menace.’

‘You know it,’ you winked, and at that moment, Eddie decided to insert his fingers back into you. You moaned, looking down at him in a bit of confusion.

‘I’m feeling left out,’ he said with a faux pout.

‘I’d never forget you, Eddie.’ the smile on your face was already becoming more and more sheepish, but the fire in your stomach was far from getting blown out. Precisely because of this, you got up on your knees, startling both of your men, and sat up.

‘Something wrong?’ Eddie asked.

‘Not at all,’ you patted the spot on the mattress next to you for him to sit, and as soon as he did, you kissed him. It felt very peculiar but not wrong in any way to kiss him. The fact that Steve was right behind you didn’t shoot any alarms either, unlike you had expected it to. It should have made you feel off that you were making out with Eddie, but the worries evaporated out of your mind once you felt Steve’s hands on you, and he started kissing your neck from behind. While you cupped Eddie’s cheek in one hand, your other moved down to stroke Steve’s length, and it didn’t take long for him to moan out against you.

In the meantime, Eddie was growing harder by the second. Finally, when you looked down, you saw his dick against your leg, tip painfully red.

‘Mmm, ok, how do we want to do this, boys?’ you straight up asked them, knowing they would have their own preference to what to do. Meanwhile, you just wanted that hollow feeling between your legs to go away, not really caring who would be the one to do it.

‘I’m sure Harrington wouldn’t appreciate me using up your pussy the whole night,’ Eddie slapped his hand lightly over it, making you jump, which in turn made his smirk resurface. ‘Besides, I’ve sort of fallen in love with that mouth of yours.’ He took your lower lip between his teeth, pulling just the slightest bit before letting it go and saying, 'an’ I’m dying to find out what else it can do.’

You looked over at Steve, needing to be sure he was fine with it since he hadn’t said much. You made eye contact, and he smiled his lovely grin.

‘Are you ok with this?’ He actually asked you, ignoring your unasked question to him.

‘Absolutely.’ Your eagerness was undoubtedly high and didn’t go unnoticed.

‘Alright, calm down there,’ Steve chuckled, slapping your ass playfully, ‘I don’t think you want to show Munson just how much of a slut you are, right of the bat.’

‘I think we’re way past that point,’ Eddie joined in, and you rolled your eyes at both of them, and not wanting to continue this teasing of yours, you decided to take small control of the situation. You got down on all fours without saying a word, facing Eddie. That shut them both up fairly quickly.

Steve was the first to take action, putting his hands on your hips and aligning himself at your entrance. He loved to take his time going in, and while it usually killed you, you had a view to look at this time. The time that Steve took to tease you, you spent teasing Eddie. Fluttering your eyelashes every now and then at him with a sweet smile, biting your lip, all that dewy stuff guys drool over. You didn’t really have much experience with other guys, so you stuck your tongue out like Steve liked. It was just a bit too far to reach Eddie. Now, you would lie if you said you didn’t want him there and then, but sometimes waiting it out just a little bit could make things better.

Eddie, in the meantime, started to clump up your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He was careful and very gentle, ensuring that he didn’t pull too hard (yet) on a loose strand of hair or didn’t lose any of it from his grip.

‘Steve, please,’ you needed him to hurry up, already knowing that you were practically dripping for him.

‘You heard the lady, Harrington. Get a move on.’ Eddie’s dark eyes were practically black at that moment, filled with the need for you.

‘Don’t tell me what to do, Munson,’ Steve groaned, finally letting himself slide inside you. He did it in one swift move, stretching you out. And once that happened, he didn’t waste a second and started to move with all the strength he had in him, and through that, he managed to hit your deep spots with every thrust. His hands dug into your sides, and the way his hips met yours through his movements, you knew you’d get sore from it in the best way possible.

But Steve definitely, maybe purposefully, made it hard for you to stay up on your hands and keep your head up for Eddie.

It was like a chain reaction. First, Steve would thrust into you, and in all that ecstasy, you’d moan around Eddie’s cock, which would send all of those vibrations like electricity through his entire body. Then, either as a treat or punishment for it, he’d pull that ponytail he had worked so hard on to keep neat. He’d pull your hair, and you would tense and squeeze around his length. And just like that, in the perfect little circle of it all, Steve would respond with his pretty moans.

‘Fuck baby, you’re doing so good,’ he panted, slowing down. Eddie, however, kept up his own rhythm. It was sloppy, and you couldn’t imagine it was attractive at how he made you drool, but he kept going, hitting the back of your throat.

‘So… good,’ Eddie responded to Steve’s earlier statement. A tear rolled down your cheek, and he was quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He cursed under his breath when, once again, he managed to hit the back of your throat and make you gag. His grip on your hair tightened even more, and to add to it, Steve started to slow down his movements. Slow down, but he used all his energy to make you feel it with each move. Slow, but hard and precise. They were both close; you could feel it.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Eddie, being new to your body and limits, pulled out.

‘It’s fine, Eds,’ you smiled at him and opened your mouth again for him. He hesitated, looked at you, then at Steve, who must have given him some kind of green light that you couldn’t see from behind you. But it wasn’t enough for Eddie, who still looked for another confirmation in you.

‘Come on, Eddie, I know you want to do it.’ You licked his tip, and it was almost enough for him to burst. Then, while Steve pushed out his last strong thrusts, Eddie spilt inside of you. Maybe it was what Steve had been trying to hold on for, as he didn’t come much later. It was by far the dirtiest moment in your life, being filled up by your boyfriend and best friend, taking in their cum like it was made for you.

Finally, they slowed down to a moment of halt. Some of Eddie’s cum spilt out of your mouth, and the realisation hit you that you were in a stranger’s bed, who would probably not be very excited at the image of those strains on their covers.

‘Ah shit, wait,’ Eddie moved away and jumped off the bed in the direction of what you presumed to be the bathroom. Steve then took on his usual “caring boyfriend” role and helped you lie down comfortably.

‘Did you cum?’ Of course, those were the first words that came out of his mouth.

‘Steve-’

‘Did you?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know. I was too occupied with the whole “two dicks inside of me” situation.’ That was probably the dumbest way you could have phrased it, but because of that same situation, you were too tired to think and sound more poetic.

‘You didn’t, did you?’ His eyes saddened immediately at the idea of neither him nor Eddie actually managing their goal. But as quickly as the spark disappeared, another kind of glint emerged in his eyes. ‘C’mere.’

‘What?’ You looked and sounded confused as he tried to pull you up.

‘Just hold onto the frame.’ He shuffled down the mattress to lie down. ‘I’m promising you, you’re not walking out of this room until you’ve come… at least twice.’ He wanted to make it up to you, clearly.

You sat up like Steve told you to, laughing to yourself, with your legs on either side of his face. The sound of your laugh was already plenty of fuel for him to get going again, and it all started again with a kiss to your core. Steve wanted to prove a point, and he was sure as hell gonna do it well.

‘Round two already?’ Eddie had just walked out of the bathroom, cold and wet towel in hand just for you and the sight that greeted him was of you sitting on Steve’s face. Something he had not prepared for but now would never want to forget. You tried to reply, but Steve was much too distracting. You were mid-moan when Steve said from between your legs:

‘This is still round one, man.’ And Eddie didn’t need to hear another word. He was just as ready to make it up to you for the rest of the night.

The End

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smolvenger · 4 months

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Seventeen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Miniseries)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: You have returned to Aldwinter. And begin to set plans for your revenge on Will.

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Some spicy stuff but no actual smut (please forgive me, the chapters in this fic are long enough), mentions of cheating and portraying Will's cheating as bad I am very blatantly against the Will/Cora pairing in The Essex Serpent and it shows so if you like either character or the pairing, you have been warned. Mentions of sex and religion and violence and abandonment. Supporting Women's Wrongs.

A/N: Thanks to @muddyorbsblr for the brilliant ideas about how Reader could get her long due revenge and the great suggestions!

Also,

Happy New Years Eve! Instead of going to clubs and drinking and partying or being invited to a party, I'm spending it editing fanfiction. So this is to all of you out there who too feel a little lonely like me and like you should be out there doing partying and "normal" things...you aren't the only one, and I'm sending you a hug.

I hope you enjoy the start of the "next" season of Court after that cliffhanger! Leave a comment or reblog or send me an ask or dm if you especially liked it! Happy 2024!

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You could still recall your wedding with Loki.

It was night. The moons shone above. Stars sprinkled across the sky as people laughed and went out to restaurants and taverns. They weren’t the ones about to find a cauldron. They could go on in ignorance and always in safety.

But your own pulse was picking up as you held Loki’s hand. Excitement and nervousness.

You both walked into a temple, a building with a garland of roses over the door. For even gods still needed worshippers. Inside, there were two priests going about. An old man and a younger man in fine golden robes swept the floors. The younger one turned and gasped, tugging the sleeve of his sage.

They recognized Loki and both bowed.

“Ah, great prince and god of mischief, what brings you here?” the older one asked.

“I want you to marry us!” Loki announced.

Their jaws dropped, and the brown eyes of the old man grew large.

“Without the…the consent of the AllFather?” the older priest asked.

“No- I do not need it. I am not a child anymore. I am a man grown and this is the woman I want to marry.” Loki said, gesturing to you.

You walked over and placed a hand on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

“This is one order I give you, both as god and prince- Perform a marriage between me and Y/N. The Jotun Prophet says she is my True Love- always shall be. Don’t break the True Love Bond. Perform a marriage ceremony. I’ll reward you handsomely if you do.”

They relented. The Older Priest led you both to the large altar in the next room. It had a tall statue of Frigga smiling with outstretched hands from her gown’s sleeves. Firewood was brought to make a nice kindling blaze in the fireplace from the younger priest to the fireplace in the room.

The older priest gestured you both to You walked around it to the wooden table placed right before the statue. It was covered in runes in its tan wood. There was a small dagger, a cornucopia, and a tall, white candle that the elder priest lit with fire from the fireplace. The younger priest stood to bear witness, as well as holding a spare marriage contract for you both.

“The AllMother might feel a slight twinge in the air tomorrow, for marriage is part of her realm. But yet…if you are certain, then you are certain. Any last things you would like before we begin?” asked the older priest.

“It feels a little more like a lamb is about to be sacrificed than a wedding,” you shyly commented, for the Christian weddings of home were more what you were used to.

“The AllMother doesn’t like offerings of lamb!!” laughed the older priest.

“Here- let me make it more decorated, then,” Loki offered.

With a flick of his hand, there were flowers everywhere. Soft roses in bloom, their perfume a gentle caress in the air. They decorated the statue and the altar. Flower crowns were placed on the two priests, much to their amusement.

“Should I go back home and get that lacy bustle dress then? I know it’s your favorite” you teased Loki.

He gave you a small laugh, then lifted his hand and flicked it in the air.

Golden light came down from over your heads, he gave himself rich green robes with gold armor plates over his shoulders Both a prince and a groom.

You looked as the magic went over you and your clothes transformed on your body. You were given a long dress that was a soft blush pink to compliment his green. It shimmered when light touched it. It showed your shoulders but the sleeves were so long they draped to the floor, the way that a few of the queen’s dresses did. For that was what a woman of royalty wore. The bodice made a heart shape over your chest. On your head was a long veil that went down your back and onto the floor of sheer material, forming a beautiful train melting into a lacelike pattern. It made you look like you floated.

You smiled up at him.

“It’s beautiful, thank you!” you gasped.

Loki smiled, then nodded at the priest for him to begin.

You clasped hands. There was a prayer and some milk poured into a bowl and placed at the feet of the statue as an offering to Frigga..Loki conjured daggers for you both to trade, symbolizing how you would protect each other.

“Now, make your vows to each other,” signaled the Priest.

Loki held your hands. Though the priest whispered the words in his ear, he repeated it with sincerity.

"I, Loki, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, take you to be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until only death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

You took his hands and repeated what the priest whispered into your ear.

“I, Y/N, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, to take you to be my husband, My friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

Then Loki’s magic brought up the ring- the very one you won from the Weaver’s cottage.

“That was why the Weaver thought I earned it…even she knew…” you wondered.

“She’s a matchmaker then, who knew,” Loki teased.

Loki placed it gently around your finger. He conjured a ring that you slipped through his finger.

There was a final prayer and chant. The younger priest brought forth the document which you both signed.

“Now seal it with a kiss- and all the nine realms shall consider you husband and wife,” announced The Older Priest.

You did, happily. Embracing each other and locking lips. They both smiled and applauded. Loki paid them generously with a conjured bag of coin.

You both were still holding hands as you hurried home. Your wedding gown and his shoulder plates glowing in the moonlight.

With the crowds around Asgard, you could slip by unnoticed. But you were smiling. He was red-cheeked, almost running and pulling you with him until you picked up your skirt and met his pace. You ran together back home at an equal speed. The thrill of being married at last soaring in your hearts.

You got home in your finery, clutching hands happily. At the entrance, no one came to meet you. The guards simply allowed you through, never asking questions.

“Husband…” you teased, tasting the word. Placing a hand on his warm chest. His eyes went big.

“In the older times, a marriage isn’t considered legal until it is consummated. Is Asgard…like that?” you asked with a slight giggle in your voice.

Loki took his hands around your waist.

“Better safe than sorry, then,” he agreed.

He scooped you easily into his arms and carried you right into his chambers. Taking you onto his green bed and laying you down.

He crawled on top of you and kissed you. Desire burned between your legs as he let in some of his tongue and touched your face, pulling you close. Hands greedily running down your body. Giggling you rolled over so he laid down and you were on top. The veil shimmered as it fell from your head into a melted, sparkly puddle on the floor. He let out a small gasp of surprise but laughed it off, his ivory face below you, his beautiful black curls splayed across the bed.

‘Now that we are wed, I’m going to make my wife scream with pleasure on our wedding night. And every night after that.”

His hands went to your hips, gripping the flesh beneath the cloth. You set yours on his broad shoulders.

“First I’ll have to spare your stallion and ride you instead!” you whispered.

“I love you, my wife… and princess,” he voiced.

“I love you too- prince and husband,” you said.

You began to grind him as he undid his own leather trousers. Then you pulled up your long skirts and began to sink onto his-

“O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil and make us the children of God and heirs of eternal life:...”

The vicar’s voice broke you out of your memories.

That was just the past. And here you were in a familiar scene. The memory is still warm in your body though you were back in that sterile church.

“Grant us, we beseech thee, that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves even as he is pure…’ Will continued to intone, signaling the beginning of the service.

You were sitting dutifully on the front row next to your parents. Just as you did for a long time. You were back home in Aldwinter, but you did not feel like the same lovesick girl counting down the days to her wedding and smiling up at the vicar with love and even restrained lust.

No, you kept your eyes down to the checkered floor, hands positioned to pray. You wore a dark-colored dress, but you were not in mourning. You would paint the picture of piety and repentance here. Still aware of the eyes still on you. Of the gossip.

“She left our respectable rector for that god. Yet she’s back here and - bless him, he loves her! He’s going to marry Y/N anyway despite all of that! Despite her being ruined. Despite her betrayal,” was what they were whispering in their pews and parlors.

‘They got it wrong as to who ultimately betrayed who. Twice.’ you thought. But you held back that part of you in your head. It was rather talkative lately, but you knew better than to utter a word of your true thoughts.

You looked about. There was the old chandelier that hung up with unlit candles. You wondered how they stayed on. What would happen if one were to fall? Would it hit someone?

To your amusement, you realized one hung over where Will was standing. You wished you could make a candle fall to hit him on the curly auburn head. It would have been funny, even the congregation would laugh. But you didn’t.

It deserved to be a knife aimed at his skull instead.

Everyone kept their heads down, though sometimes a pair of eyes would meet yours.

You were back. You told them- your family, old friends, and neighbors- little of what happened. As far as they knew, you were enchanted. But the spell was broken. Yhat you were returned safely- to pray, repent, and process all that happened with Loki…

And sometimes you did. The things you never imagined you would see or do when you went to Asgard. You thought you would live a plain little life in a plain little town and that you were content to do so. Did they know that you learned how to wield swords and daggers? That you were blessed with magic? Of the people you met from other worlds and timelines and planets? Stole belongings or helped in their stealing? Escaped death multiple times? Fought? Even killed? That you found new friendships with queens, princes, and warrior women? Seen aliens? Been to a ball? Met gods and learned to love one and was even married to him?

Now- here you were. In your old clothes and old church. Did those grand adventures even happen at all?

You knew they did.

There were a few extra faces in the pews. For some in town were surprised by an influx of men who built small houses and stayed nearby. Some women were thrilled for a bunch of new bachelors and hoped for marriage with one of them. They all said they were part of a construction company and factory that was nearby…when really they were of Grendel’s army. Bullies and monsters, all of them. And it was none other than Will who agreed with Grendel to let them stay in the town…if Grendel got you back here to him.

Will’s sermon continued as normal. He seemed happy as he began to discuss Paul’s book of Romans. Once you would have sat up in rapt attention. But you could hardly pay attention to it anymore. He seemed like a ghost in his long white robes. He wore a long blue sash draping down his shoulders trimmed with gold with symbols on the ends. He smiled brightly as he stood before the congregation, folding his hands so they disappeared from his robe’s sleeves.

You heard the voice of your husband through the bond.

'I’m going to kill him,' Loki said clearly in your head.

'Not yet,' you replied.

'I’m going to get out my dagger, and stab him right where he is.'

'Loki, please, don't'

'Then I’m ripping a portal to this church, slinging you over my shoulder, and carrying my wife out of this place. Right. Now.'

'Loki, I wish you could- but consider: they're watching. The whole town is watching and not just now! Everyone is obsessed and looking for you. My parents keep the doors to the house locked except for when I go on my daily walk. Everyone has purchased a weapon. They’re searching like madmen for you in Aldwinter. It’s not safe for you to just barge in.'

Now people discussed the Trickster god who kidnapped and ravished women more than the Serpent that was just a dead whale. They searched everywhere. Children played games and whispered about him. One thought they saw him in the woods. Another thought they saw him in the marshes. People kept close eyes on their daughters- he took first you, then Stella twice, and who knew which lady would be next?

One day, there was a rowboat on the river in town. It nearly ran into another rowboat. And no fishing nets were inside.

“What are you out here for?” one rowman asked.

“Lookin’ for the Trickster god! He was sighted here, wasn’t he?” answered the other boat’s first rowman.

“Blast it, not if I find and shoot him first!” said another rowman from the other boat.

‘But, my dear pet-’ Loki continued to sigh.

‘No- I don’t want you to. Besides, even if you could quickly get me out, I don’t want to leave yet…not without seeing to it that Will is punished’ you sent to him.

'You do deserve revenge, Loki agreed “So I should turn into a cat again, trot up to him purring, and then jump out and stab him.'

'Loki, it is a habit of men to avenge women they love who were wronged. It is in many stories- it is always the woman who suffers and dies horribly because of a villain’s sins and it is not her, but the man who is allowed to live to avenge her. Those writers don’t understand we ladies are perfectly capable of exacting our own revenges. I would like to do it. I am the person Reverend Ransome has wronged most of all. If anyone should do the stabbing, it should be me.'

'Then get a knife and throw it towards him in church!' Loki suggested.

'No! He will duck and it shall be me who goes into jail and shall be killed, not him. I can’t just murder him willy-nilly and with no certain escape or sanctuary. I must be careful with this if I am to get away with it.'

Part of you was impressed by him. Making a deal for your safe return at least, done by a man whose heart couldn’t be settled on one woman. You were keeping your simmering rage at bay. You took a look at the church, you noticed the walls that seemed blue-green in the overcast sky when they were really white. The light brown pews and the table with a tall wooden cross on it with two candles between. The three chandeliers. The two windows that overlooked everyone were like eyes.

When you burned Aldwinter to the ground, the church would be first.

No, no you couldn’t. Why should so many innocent people suffer because of one man’s decisions? You had to figure out how to exact revenge on the reverend Will Ransome, in a way that would affect him and only him. And in a way that no one would suspect it was you.

The service continued on as normal. Though you were always in a half-sleepy, silent daze now instead of at attention, doing every repetition of prayers and singing each hymn and crossing yourself soberly.

Sunday evening, as always, a nice dinner was made for Will, your fiancee and guest. It was as if the letter you wrote to him ending things was never sent.

It was the same picture. Everyone sitting down in your house. Napkins draped across laps as forks and knives clinked with plates. The smell of the meal wafting- your mother’s roast with salad and bread and potatoes. Laughter and chatter.

You would make a smile appear on your face, eating politely and quietly.

Then your father made one clap and rubbed his hands, looking at you and Will.

“Now- let us discuss the wedding! Do you have a date selected, my dears?” he asked.

“We have discussed about the wedding a little more…” Will began.

‘But I’m already married,’ you thought, glancing down at the emerald ring always on your finger.

Then again, Will wasn’t known for respecting the boundaries of marriage.

The Lusty Vicar placed a hand over yours and held it.

“We will reschedule the wedding for next month,” Will suggested. His blue eyes shined to you. “Then, my angel, I shall finally call you my wife.”

‘I would rather the Serpent become real and devour me,’ you thought.

“It shall be lovely,” you replied with a small smile.

“We shall have a wedding- free of interruptions and no sickness and no spells. It shall be simpler, mind you- we all know how much the first one cost,” your mother added.

“A big wedding doesn’t matter as long as it’s with a good man who truly loves you,” you commented.

Will again looked at you softly. He spoke with a smoothness, almost a seductive tone, like when he proposed to you. Not caring the others were there. In fact, they enjoyed it.

“It was God who told me you were to be my bride, Y/N.”

‘But God didn’t tell me.’ you thought. You only looked up at him and smiled.

“And we shall spend our lives fulfilling His word together,” he continued.

‘Did God also tell you to stick your fingers up Cora’s-’

“Oh, how beautiful! To see you finally married off to this godly, lovely man!” your mother sighed out loud.

“I am the happiest woman in Essex, ” you replied.

He kissed your hands and left back home.

“Y/N, now that you are a parsonage bride, be sure to attend to your duties at the church tomorrow. You must become used to them,” your mother reminded you.

One idea hit you. A small step.

Revenge you realized, was similar to cooking or baking. When one has a recipe, there are all sorts of small ingredients to gather, steps to take, and things to measure and mix. Small steps. They don’t seem like much at first, but bit by bit, they became something bigger, grander.

“Yes, mother. I shall,” you replied dutifully.

The next afternoon, the church was empty. Only Will and a few others planning out events in the meeting room. You had to help keep it tidy and check plans for Sunday School, for you were now going to join as another volunteer teacher for the children. As you looked over the lesson plans with the other teachers, you reached out your powers through your gifts. Searching. Would they be where they were last…

They reached his office. To what was under his desk.

No box. And no personal mail.

The letters from Cora were not in his office, you realized. That would take some searching.

But another thing was near his office- the church treasury kept in a safe in the next room.

Another step to your revenge.

One of the benefits of being a vicar was that while a clergyman received some of the tithes, a vicar got all of them.

Of course, some of it went to support his own church and ministry as well as put bread on the table. Will was probably discussing the budget with them from the Sunday tithes.

Finishing the Sunday School lesson planning was done.

Your senses told you the room with the safe was empty.

The old woman who taught the children’s Sunday school chattered on. Usually, women could teach children and other women. It was rare for a woman to teach a Sunday School class that included men. You got up. Saying you were going to get a glass of water and to wait for the Reverend, excuse me.

No one was in the hall. You quickly hurried in, your steps soft. To not click on the floors. Your powers unlocked the door and you stepped in. The plain brown room with a plain grey safe.

Quickly, your senses managed to unlock it. Opening up to numerous checks and huge wads of cash and coins in baskets.

You got out a few things of cash. Taking off your shoe, you slipped it beneath your foot and then retied it on. You then locked it back. Quickly walking away. You went over to the church kitchens to get your glass of water and sip on it in one of the parlors, your eyes down in innocence.

When you got home, you sat down in your chair, claiming you were tired and needed to rest. You looked at the blue gloves you had been knitting recently. Your eyes focused, your powers embracing it. You let it rip open and then reattach, sewn back together easily.

You removed your shoes and got out the cash.

You took the money and placed it in a blank envelope. Oh, how you wished you could recreate handwriting! Then you would forge Will signing it! But you could not, as much as you practiced. That would have given you away.

So at night, when no one was around, no one walking the streets, you briefly slipped the letter under your door. Then you went back to continue to knit more gloves as your parents read.

'Move' you commanded the letter silently.

And it did- it began to drift through the dirt road. You sensed where Mrs. Seaborne resided and directed the letter there as it floated through the ground as if a breeze moved it.

'Go to her house, slip it under the door,' you commanded it.

Quietly as a firefly. It located the house of a certain widow and slipped it under the door.

Your parents then said you would have to read the Bible more, to prepare for your marriage, and gave you a new copy they had bought. You turned to the Old Testament book of Judges and silently read some as they continued their own post-dinner activities by candlelight.

You poured over one story in that book. There was once a tyrant named Sisera who had long oppressed the Hebrew people. After his army lost a decisive battle with the Hebrew forces, he fled like a coward. He discovered a tent where who should be there, but only an ordinary housewife named Jael. She knew what he had done. She let Sisera have her food and sleep there as a guest, promising him that he was safe. Then as he slept, she got out a tent peg and killed him by hammering it through his skull.

You wondered why there weren’t more sermons discussing Jael. Why many never even spoke of her. Or perhaps even knew of her.

So every day you sat, sewed, obeyed your parents and fiancee, and prayed and bided your time. You had to seem like Jael- an innocent, dutiful, pleasant woman who would only do what was asked of her. Then, when the time was right, you would drive the peg through the skull of your Sisera.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Will loved to take long walks in the mornings. Especially through the fields, the forests, and by the sea. You realized each day you sensed him. They were like clockwork-mid morning after breakfast. Then he would go out for at least an hour. If not two.

That would be the perfect time to find the letters.

The next morning, you said you were out to walk and take care of some errands. Your parents thought nothing of it but wished you well. You walked out.

You walked into the town and through. Careful that none were watching you. You knew where it was. You had been there one night before.

There it was- the tall white house, the vicarage. There was a large, plain backyard save for the little house made of sticks for the dog to sometimes rest in.

The dog was already outside, leased to the house for safety as his keeper was out. The sweet, brown terrier. He went up to you, wagging his tail, for he knew you. You got him little treats of bread from your pocket that you fed to him, so he would be happy and not bark up a storm. No more than what would alert any passerbyes. After petting him for some time, you got back up to go to the vicarage.

Your powers unlocked the door and you went inside. Now you weren’t as clouded with emotion, you could look about the place.

It was light tan wood on the inside. There was a kitchen with an empty table and vase. A little fireplace. A parlor by the windows with cushions where one could watch the outside.

It was a large house. The right size for a man who was expected to start a family.

You turned past one door, peeking inside, and you saw a bedroom. A large blue bed, neatly made.

To think, that was where the wedding night that never happened would have taken place…

Then you continued, you felt odd. Nostalgic for something you never experienced…a life you never lived, had wanted to live, and in a way, still wanted to live.

There was his study. The wallpaper on it was green, full of vines, leaves, flowers, and even birds all over. Beautiful and elaborate. There was a window where sunlight poured through the window over his desk sat. Looking out to the countryside outside. There was an oil lamp where one just turned and there it was. So many papers and journals on his desk, yet in neat piles. But most impressive in his room were the bookshelves. His study was almost a library in itself- tall bookshelves. Full of books, more than you could name. It was likely they all were books of theology or even history or anything having to do with his ministry and studies.

You looked about, pausing and smelling the musk of the place. The beautiful wallpaper. The impressive collection of books.

You could almost feel it like wearing an old shirt- the life you once had. A life that was also within your grasp again. A life where you would live in this house as Mrs. Ransome.

To sit in that bed knitting next to him as he read. To sleep beside him and with him. To fulfill your marital duties at night with quiet passion. A life where you planned the activities the children would do in Sunday school on your kitchen table. Sew up white angel costumes for the Christmas pageant every year. To go and stand by his side helping to bring out alms on a day of charity.

Sweeping and scrubbing all day instead of intense physical training. No worries about Grendel, but of making sure the dinner would be warm when he got home.

One where you would gather flowers from your garden to plop into that vase, making them look nice. A life where you would fix tea and lemon biscuits, and deliver them on a tray to him in his study as he wrote his next sermon. To give it to him and he would smile up from his papers. A life where you would sit by the fire sewing, discussing whatever sermon was coming up next with him as he made notes. Plan recipes for the newest church dinner or picnic coming up and talk to him about who was making what. Picking pastel wallpaper for a certain special room in the future for both of you. Holding hands in the middle of services.

No quests, adventures, or fighting. A quiet life, a domestic, peaceful life. A life you could no longer have. A life no longer accessible -and a life you knew you could no longer let yourself want.

Your powers reached and you found you were correct in your suspicions.

The second desk drawer on the left side. The locked one.

Your powers unlocked it and it jiggled open. There inside were letters. The love letters from Cora to the Lusty Vicar.

Because he wasn’t known as the Faithful Vicar.

Though it made your heart race and your stomach turn, you picked up the letters and began to skim through some of them. You couldn’t take all of them or he would be immediately suspicious. You had to select only a limited number of them- so they had to be the most damning ones.

You turned past one discussing the Serpent to a piece of paper with Will’s handwriting on it. A draft of a letter to respond to her.

“I apologize for not writing, there was too much to say. I cannot think straight around you. I love you, Cora.”

Love- Love! He was sure it was love! You noticed the rest of it was full of scribbled-out words.

Then you found the next one from Cora. Two words in it stood out to you and nearly made you drop the paper.

“Come quickly.”

She was asking Will to leave you for her! The shock made the letter tremble in your hands and your vision went dizzy at the edges.

“Come quickly.”

Your mind then raced, imagined, as minds do… spiraling further in its self-destructive cycle of imagination. Will told you he wouldn’t leave you…he also said he loved you. Said that he still loved you…

“Come quickly.”

What if you already married Will…and he ran off with Cora?

You imagined the scene.

You could see it already in this house. You would be doing your daily duties humming a cheerful song. Refreshing the vase in the kitchen with flowers. Planning ingredients for dinner.

The day turned to evening…and realizing he was taking longer with his church duties than normal. Wondering if something happened. Already missing him as you dusted off the countertops. Full of happy memories of him in your earlier days of marriage. The light brown kitchen where he’d lay a gentle hand on your shoulder in fondness as you stirred the soup. The doorways you teased that he was too tall for. Looking through the dinner you were going to make that night.

Panic bubbled lightly as the sun dipped down and the day became night.

You would finally wander into his study. The light shining orange from his lamp…. There, on the table was a letter addressed to you from him. You would reach for it and read it.

“My dear wife, I am in love with Cora Seaborne. I cannot think straight around her…with her, there is too much to say. I am going with her. I ask for your blessing. I will make sure you are taken care of. Thank you, for your dear blessing on us and for our love.” Will.”

And enclosed were several bills of cash money.

For he knew a married woman could not submit a check at the bank, then the money would go to her husband.

And now, your husband was gone.

The utter shock. Rereading it to make sure it was real, that this nightmare was real. The rage. The tears. The brokenness washing over you. How you would shake. Holding onto his desk for support. Until your legs gave out- how you would collapse, sobbing. Those three little words that would feel like a kick over and over: “for our love.”

Then, you would wander into another room—the pastel one. For by now, there would likely be an occupant.

A little baby in a cradle.

A nursery decorated with the theme of Noah’s Ark. A painting of the wooden boat and of doves with twigs in their beaks on the wall. Full of little animal toys going two by two. Specially decorated for this child’s arrival.

To look down at the little infant in its cradle. So lovingly swaddled safe and warm. A child who was half you and half Will.

On one hand, perhaps it would be worse if he took the child with him. A child you would never know if you would see again, for a husband could deny his wife access to their children. The law saw the child as Will’s, not yours.

And he already found a new replacement, a new wife for him, and a new mother to this child.

It was as if you never mattered in the first place.

But now, the child would be babbling and looking around. Then it would burst into tears, for it missed the cradling arms of its father. You would shush it and try to rock it. Call their name, sing a lullaby in a broken, crying voice, and kiss their forehead- the last reminder of Will you’d always have by you.

To think, once this child was old enough, you would have to look them in the eye and explain why Papa wasn’t around like the other Papas were with their children, even if Papa was a priest. That Papa loved Mama…but he wasn’t in love with Mama.

How you would cradle that child to your chest, walking through the rain, the letter in your pocket. Trudging to your parents home in the middle of a rainstorm in the night. Knocking on the door. They’d open. Seeing a sobbing baby and a sobbing mother.

To tell them what happened. You couldn’t imagine what they would say, would do. They wouldn’t have the heart to even turn you down. But perhaps people would talk.

Maybe you didn’t cook as well. Maybe you were mad and had to be sent to an asylum. Maybe you weren’t as pretty as Cora. Or as interesting or clever. Maybe you didn’t pleasure Will enough in his bed and the Lusty Vicar had to be satiated somehow.

You would not be able to file a divorce. A husband who had an affair and now abandoned you was not the legal grounds for a wife to divorce a husband.

In the eyes of both God and the Law, you were still William Ransome’s wife.

Now…you had to stay married to him until only Death did you part or he decided to initiate a divorce. Even though you were the upright, godly, proper vicar’s wife…the law would not be on your side. Not as a woman.

To wait. For envelopes that had letters- and especially money. To live at the mercy of those envelopes. Hoping the cash would be enough. For food, for warm clothes for your child- no his child, for by the law, the child belonged to the father, not the mother. The humiliation, the pain, the loneliness.

All because Will and Cora were in love.

And all because a stupid whale carcass was what brought them together in the first place!

You wanted to take that lamp that sat at his desk and throw it at the wall until it shattered into a million pieces. You wanted to tear at that letter. Topple the bookshelves and rip apart every last book that belonged to Father William Ransome. Do every violent thing to destroy that room in a rage. To run to Cora’s house armed with a cane like what men and old people used to walk with. For it was she who wrote that letter in the first place. Ready to beat the tar out of her until she-

But no…that wasn’t real. That didn’t happen. This was real, you reminded yourself. You were just sitting in his office with shaking hands.

‘I am not the Unwanted Wife of Aldwinter…I am the Princess of Asgard. Loki loves me, he says I’m beautiful, that I am enough for him- that I am great and awe-inspiring…he is who matters now. I am. Beautiful, powerful, and dangerous. I have the Aesir people, the servants of the palace, the warriors, and the army and legion of Asgard at my disposal- and I shall strike into Will and Cora until they plead for the mercy I will never give them,’ you reminded yourself.

Your senses reached out again and you found old documents from when Will was granted the vicarage and position. You memorized the names of those who appointed him. You searched thoroughly until you found papers with the address of the seminary that appointed him. Taking a scrap piece of paper on the desk and his pen, you wrote their names, as well name of their building and its address. You wrote it down and then hid it in your stocking.

And you had to hurry- what if he decided to return soon? Your senses told you he was still walking outside…but you would not tempt fate.

Taking in a shaky breath, you returned the draft of his letter- you could take it. But if it was missing, he would suspect something was afoot. You set the draft down.

You planned to take two to damn Will. Instead, you took three love letters- including the “come quickly” letter. For she was going to be punished already as harshly as he.

You stuffed them into the pockets of your skirt.

You promptly left the vicarage back to town, taking a path that made it less suspicious you came directly from there.

You did a little grocery shopping, and returned, saying you had to walk to clear your head- you had a nightmare last night. About Loki. You poured a few tears and they fixed you some tea in consolation, telling you that your enchantment and the dreadful act of warming his bed was all over.

Then, once you were alone in your room, You took out the letters from your clothes and hid them your copy of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which you kept firmly in your personal bookshelf.

They were ingredients left to simmer until boiling. You had the evidence and the first address to send one to. You now had to figure out where to send the other two to bring them down.

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jksprincess10 · 11 months

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Dressed for revenge 2.Angel of small death

AN: In this chapter, you finally meet Joel. I hope you enjoy it !

CWs for the whole fic: DARK, heavy violence, torture, religious trauma, abuse, SA (implied), transphobia, misgendering, eventual smut.

CWs for this chapter: forced breeding, talks of pregnancy, predatory relationship (Ghost is 16, Thomas is in his 20s), violence, talks of infertility, mentions of SA, misgendering, suicidal thoughts, language.

*Please consider reblogging to support my writing! ♡

Masterlist for this fic

August 2009, the Haven

A year between the haven walls passed. But here, time was suspended. Father Jeremiah made everyone live like it was the 1800s. Men wearing the pants and women wearing dresses like sweet and pure angels.

Ghost’s hair had started growing. The dark shaved hair had grown to tickle the back of their neck. Jeremiah refused to let them shave it, but they shaved Wyatt’s, claiming it wasn’t masculine enough.

But Wyatt didn’t say anything. He always preferred peace over resistance.

Until it started getting worse.

Jeremiah and Ghost were alone in the church, except for another man. His name was Thomas. He was probably around Wyatt’s age. They were sat in a circle near the front of the decrepit and overgrown building, where Jeremiah would lead the mass.

“I’m glad you two could make it for this very important meeting. See, sister – ” (Ghost censored their deadname in their head, that’s how they survived the last year). “… is at the age where a woman should start conceiving. So, I chose Thomas as a nice candidate, since he gave us beautiful children already.”

The priest adjusts his broken glasses over his nose. Ghost wants to press the glasses in his eye sockets until they come out from the other side.

They know it’s no use, they can’t fight it. Father Jeremiah will have them killed if they don’t comply. So, they accept in silence. Thomas seems ecstatic.

November 2009, the Haven

“I don’t understand. Your belly should be growing by now.” Stephanie says. She’s the community’s nurse or the puppet who makes sure the women properly get pregnant. “Have you done everything right, sister -?”

“Yes.” They say quietly.

Thomas did everything right, while Ghost thought about the growing trees, the nature still living outside their prison.

Stephanie presses her hand over Ghost’s flat stomach.

“Either you’re lying or you’re infertile. Father won’t be happy to hear about this either way.” With this, she slaps Ghost across the face. They take it, barely moving.

That day, Jeremiah heard the shameful news. To say he wasn’t happy about it was an understatement.

Ghost comes back with the room they share with their brother with broken bones and arms painted blue by the man’s fists.

They curl into a ball on their thin mattress and wait for their brother to come home. When Wyatt comes back from hunting, he finds his sibling, petrified like the night they lost their parents.

“We should leave.” Ghost says weakly.

“You know we can’t. Where would we go? They’ll find us.” Ghost could hear the frustration in their brother’s voice. His tone hurt their ears. Everything was too loud. They just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

“Then kill me. Please. I can’t do this anymore.”

Wyatt caresses their sweaty forehead in silence.

They wish their brother would have killed them that night. Because Father Jeremiah came back for more. He verified their infertility for himself.

Once again, they dissociated while he placed his dirty hands on them. They thought of doves flying over them like angels.

If God did exist, they wish they would hear their plea for mercy.

November 2023, not too far from the Haven

In an empty house, a girl is laying down on a dirty floor, covered by a sleeping bag. Her forehead is glistening with sweat, her lips are getting bluer by the hour. Her small limbs are shaking. Her stomach is torn open, a large, clean cut. Pieced together roughly by the shaky hands of her protector.

The man pacing around did his best. He cleaned the cut with what they had on hand, but the fever wasn’t going down. They had run out of food. He had to leave to save her. Or else… this whole trip would have been for nothing.

Immunity wasted.

November 2023, the forest

A ghost with a freshly shaved head, with their fingers extended over their bow. Waiting.

Small steps, barely crunching sounds in the snow. A rabbit jumps. They shoot. But the animal is startled by the heavy steps of another human.

Ghost curses under their breath and stays hidden, but it’s useless. The man, broad shoulders, in his 50s, grey hairs, red cheeks from the cold, saw them. He has a gun pointed towards the bush. Ghost gets up in a jump, bow drawn, and arrow pointed in the man’s direction.

He wants to fight, but he looks too tired to do so.

“You made my food run away, asshole.” Ghost spits.

They still had to prove themselves to the Father, even after all those years. He didn’t believe they could bring food to the table like a man. To Jermiah, they were less than a woman and less than a man. A ghost.

The man backs away in a sign of peace, but ironically, his gun is still pointed towards the stranger.

“I’m sorry. Look kid, it wasn’t my intention.”

Was it a kid? Were they a guy or a girl? It was hard to tell for the older man.

“Kid? I’m 30, fuck off, old man. Lower your gun and we’ll talk about intentions.”

“Joel, my name is Joel.” He says, offended.

Thankfully, he lowers his firearm. Ghost puts their bow and arrows away, stepping closer to the man. He’s at least as tall as their brother Wyatt was. Their heart pinches at the faint memory of the loss.

“You shouldn’t be here. People are fucking crazy; they’ll trap you like they trapped me.”

“I just need medicine and maybe some food. I have a kid with me. Ellie… She’s really sick. What’s your name…?”

He didn’t know how to address her… him…?

“Name’s Ghost. ”

“Fine, Ghost. Can your folks help me?”

“They can’t, but I can. Show me where she is, I’ll see what she needs. But… We will need to make a deal.”

“Anything. Get me the stuff first and we’ll discuss.”

They shook their head.

“No. It’s important. I’m not doing anything without knowing you’re in.”

“Fine.” Joel sighs. “Let’s go.”

They follow the man quietly, until the forest opens to an empty street. Joel leads them to a decrepit house. When they walked in, they feel like the floor could break down, even under their little weight.

They go down the stairs to a creepy basement inhabited only by the spiders. What if this is where they finally died?

They feel relieved only when they see the man wasn’t lying.

A hopeless teenage girl is laying on the ground, life being sucked away from her by the second. She resembles the 15-year-old Ghost who had just arrived at the Haven.

But her face is rounder. Her eyes are smaller.

Ghost kneels beside her and presses the back of their hand to the girl’s forehead. The man stays back but watches protectively, even though they could tell Ghost had no ill intentions. If they had intended to kill Joel, they would have done it already.

“She has a bad fever. ” They push the sleeping bag away to look at the deep and angry cut. “I can get you what she needs. But the price is real heavy.” They say as they look up to Joel.

Joel sits near them with a sigh. He always paid the heaviest price. But he couldn’t let Ellie die. He had already lost everything. Everyone.

His wife.

Sarah.

Tommy.

Tess.

“What are you asking?”

“I’m asking that you free me from the Haven and kill the man who killed my brother. I can’t do it alone. Or else… I’m afraid your little girl will have to die. Deal, old man?”

They extend a small hand decorated with home-made tattoos to Joel.

Taglist: @casa-boiardi @naynay2319 @ eddie-munson-dungeon-master @ dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @ cutesyscreenname @ angel-with-a-heart @ scrambledslut @itgetsdark-x

#joel miller #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x nb!oc #joel miller x non binary oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #hbo tlou

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house-of-slayterr · 11 months

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Major Blog Updates!!!!!

TLDR: I will be on a Writing hiatus as I do some digital spring cleaning and restart some old stories I’m not happy with. But expect many new crazy life updates now that I’ve moved. And some old, or maybe new ocs will start slowly trickling back in.

No wonder I was so stressed last year, I have 11 active series and counting… 💀 and yes, I am insane enough that I’m about to restart most of them from scratch. I wasn’t happy with the way things were going with most of them, and how sloppily they were written as I never expected there to be so many of you, to whom I’m very grateful for 🥺🥰🫀

This move seemed like the perfect time to just reinvent myself as a whole, and that includes my social media presence. I’m trying to build better, healthier habits this year. And one of them is learning how to say no every once and a while. Slow down and enjoy the little things. My Autism and OCD make it very difficult for me to say no to writing requests. But I’m working hard to make sure to only accept requests when I have the energy and the excitement to do so. I would be devastated to give you all content that I know is not my best, which is why I think a rewrite is in order. 🥰

It will be a big daunting task, but the point of it is to teach me to learn to approach my fear tasks like this. I have seriously considered becoming a writer for real and taking this more seriously, and Fan Fics are the perfect way to practice. Because you all always leave such lovely feedback 🥺 and it’s my favourite of writing. There would be no point to my words if they couldn’t be shared, and to have you all want me to write for you all the time is one of the greatest honours I could ever receive.

I love being able to give you all back even a fraction of the joy you bring me, by bringing your wildest dreams to life. You’re all like family to me and I love you so much. 🫀

So yeah, sorry if your faves aren’t back for a while, EVERYONES getting a MAJOR makeover, but they will be back and better than ever! I’ll keep the old stories up in case people liked reading them. But pretty much from here on out, assume none of my old writing is “Cannon”.

Also, New rule for any future requests. Please, please, please make them specific. DO NOT as questions like “can I get a micheal Myers fix” 💀 like sure, you can… but it’s not gonna be good unless you give me a prompt. Also please try to state any specific details you want added if it’s not just a vague x reader I.E. pronouns, name/nicknames, ethnicity…

Bare With me as my tumblr gets a major face lift. I’m gonna be doing a mass edit, making new master lists and fixing side blogs. From here on out all master lists and things to do with OCs will be posted and backed up on @the-slayter-archives I will still post fan fics on here first, but they’ll be backed up on there so they don’t get lost in all my reblogs 😅

Nothing makes me happier than writing for you all, but last year I let it get out of hand and stress me out to a very dangerous point. This year I will be more proactive about taking my time and not overloading myself with requests.

As for the Role Play blogs, they will also be getting a face lift. But do not fret my sweets, I will have everything neatly organised for your handy Dandy viewing pleasure. I will do my very best to keep on top of master lists and links (bare in mind I am still disabled and chronically ill so sometimes it just takes me a while to do things) that way there’s no stress for me in the future and I can keep track of all my things nice and neatly. My autism demands routine and hyper-specific organisation categories. And I’m tried of trying to fight it, so I’m willing to put in the work to make some healthy routines in the hopes that my brain will feel less like that of Frankenstein’s monster.

I will make Rule posts and DNI banners for all my pages. Therefore there’s less room for miscommunications. And I will be far more active about remembering to put Tw/CW. My wonderful partner @disableddee has agreed to help me edit works in the future and proof for triggering topics. Unfortunately Due to the environment I was raised in, it’s hard for me to tell when things are traumatic or abusive. So I never mean to trauma dump or forget tags on purpose. I genuinely do. It realise some of these topics may be triggering to other people, and of course I want to be very sensitive to that.

Was I sobbing typing this post? That’s a secret I’ll never tell… xoxo Gosip Girl

Tag: @queer-and-utter-chaos @emeraldfangs @mothmans-kingdom @spencermaybank @joelsgeetar @x-littlemoth @frenziedslashers @willowbrookesblog @myers-meadow @ajarofpickledtears @keffirinne

#big change #remodel #revamping my old work #restarting #fresh start #writer #tumblr writer #fan fic writer #bettering myself #bettering my writing #updating my tumblr

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gible-love-nibles · 1 year

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Racing Stripe (get it because an anteater has a stripe)

This took. A month of on-and-off writing to finish, on god??? Either way, hope you enjoy Aspen's first "official" appearance in the show! Basically a rewrite and expansion of "The Fast and the Feathery". This episode gave me the idea to make Aspen a mechanic; it did things to my brain.

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @crickiss @caracello @librarian-lover @halsdaisy @pandapup [If you want to be added, click here!]

(Please reblog! Likes do nothing + I like reading tags :])

"The lone duck descends in a last-ditch effort to send incendiary ordinance on an unsuspecting enemy... Ka-BOOM! Take THAT, you heathen monkeys!"

Aspen rolled her eyes. Even in the alleyway she was hiding in, she could hear how much dung Duck Dodgers-- yes, the Duck Dodgers-- was throwing out. She poked her head out from behind a barrel.

After getting yelled at by a kid, Dodgers hopped out and started bragging about the hot rods he used to ride back in the 21st century to his cadet and I.Q. Hi. He even went as far as to say he invented racing. The anteater couldn't help but let out a annoyed tch.

"It's just big talk to make himself seem better than he is, Aspen. Errol did the same thing all the time," she told herself. "Just ignore him. Bet he's never been on a real track."

Some trumpets caught the crowd's-- and her-- attention. It was a group of elite Martians, and the commander quickly stepped up into the spotlight. "Introducing the Supreme Leader of the Martian Empire: Her Royal Highness, the Queen of Mars!"

Queen Tyr'ahnee walked gracefully out from behind the curtains and addressed the crowds. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present our entry for this year's competition. The Martian Maverick 6 Million!"

While the crowds cheered for the reveal, Aspen stayed silent. Until: "...and will be piloted by our undefeated Grand Champion!" The queen gestured to her commander. "Who will gladly destroy any competition."

"Arrogant blowhards!" Dodgers sneered.

"Real rich coming from you," the hidden anteater muttered.

"Doc, let's get out of here! Cadet, this way!" But the little pig was gone. "Cadet?" Dodgers looked behind, where the Cadet was talking up the duck as a racing legend.

Dodgers took in a sharp inhale and booked it for the stage, weaving through the crowds of people. The anteater snickered.

"And that’s what he gets for talking big.” She unconsciously started moving closer to the stage. When else would she see the great hero Duck Dodgers make a complete fool of himself?

Aspen shimmied through the crowd just in time to hear Dodgers say, "Um... Y'know... Maybe I wasn't all that great..." and the crowd gasp in shock. As the masses spread their disbelief, she had to bite her tongue to hold in a laugh. "I hope you're happy," Dodgers whispered at his sidekick. But he quickly picked himself up. "Fear not, my people! I will not shrink from the task set before me. I shall be your champion and defeat the Martian horde!"

As the crowds cheered, the commander grumbled. "Arrogant blowhard."

Dodgers soaked up the crowd's approval, but then noticed Aspen with a small smug smile on her face. "What're you grinning for?"

Everyone halted a bit of their momentum. All their eyes were on her now. No one seemed to recognize her… yet. That was good.

The anteater was taken aback for a second— if she stayed here, it could be big trouble. However, if there was one thing she learned from being around a bunch of rowdy pirates, it was how to keep a cool head.

She kept her smile on and her eyes to the stage. "Nothin'. Just excited to see the race."

The duck clearly heard this as a jab because he raced up to her, snarling like a bull and getting right into her face. "What?! You think you can race better than me or somethin'!?" The crowd gasped, and the two Martians quirked their eyebrows.

She could hear muttering. Some of them might be starting to realize. But she's too far in now.

Aspen took a step back, still with a cool smile. "I mean… possibly. I've been around spaceships my whole life, and I've been racing in 'em since I was three. Your experiences sound pretty comparable to mine."

Dodgers nearly seemed to be at a loss for words; she guessed he was expecting her to match his angry energy with her own. This cool reception was a shell shock. But there was still some punch in him.

"W-W-Well... where's your proof then?! How do we all know-"

Aspen whipped out a tiny book.

"-that you're not just-"

She opened it up.

"-blowing... hot... air?"

It was full of all her racing memories, snapped into photos. She pointed at each one she described. "Me when I was three, in my first race ship. Me when I was six, winning my first derby. Me when-"

"How many pictures do you have in there?" The Cadet finally piped up.

She thumbed through the little book. "Enough to fill 141 pages."

The duck blinked like a deer in headlights, but he quickly composed himself. "HA! You're gonna need a lot more than family photos to stand up to me, Trunks! You enter this race, and you'll be eating my space dust!"

"C'mon Captain, let's go and get ready." The Cadet managed to defuse, literally pushing the duck away and towards his race ship. Dodgers left a final message of sticking his tongue out.

With that, the crowd finally started to disperse, and Aspen didn’t hear anyone try and contact the authorities! Mission success: she could finally leave!

"I don't think I've ever seen Dodgers lose his confidence that succinctly before."

Or not.

Aspen jumped out of her skin and nearly shrieked, before she clamped her mouth shut and looked at her side. It seemed the Martian commander accidentally snuck up on her, and he looked as wide-eyed as she did.

Well... compared to how a Martian usually looked. Big eyes had to make up for the lack of every other facial feature.

The anteater relaxed and chuckled. "Sorry, Commander. Didn't see you there."

"Clearly." The Commander's eyes went from cautious to curious. "If I may be so bold to ask, why on Deimos would you do that?"

"Well first off, Dodgers started it. And second, the guy was clearly acting off ego. It just... happened. I have a lot of practice deflating egos, I guess."

X2 made an amused sound. "Well, anyone who can do that to Dodgers is a friend of mine. What is your name, mysterious anteater?"

She flitted around her eyes for a bit. Most everyone was gone now. "Aspen."

"Aspen..." He put his hand up to his chin (where it would be anyway). "Why does that name sound vaguely familiar?"

Uh oh. If it wasn't time to scram before, it is now. The anteater put on a cheery facade and started to walk off. "Well, good luck Commander! May the best racer win!"

"Just a second." Aspen froze in her tracks, then slowly turned around. The Commander stepped aside, and Queen Tyr'ahnee stepped forward. "Aspen, was it?"

"Um... yes, your Highness."

"The same Aspen who's been on the run from just about every law enforcement system in the galaxy?"

"...Um. Yes, that would be me." Shoot.

"Ah. Now I recognize you." X2's cold voice wasn't helping the anteater's nerves.

The Queen paused, and Aspen could see the exact moment an idea crossed her mind. "Are all those things you said to Dodgers true? Have you truly been racing in ships that long?"

"Y-Yes." She didn't like where this was going.

"I'd like to make a wager with you, Aspen. Take a place alongside my Commander and Dodgers in this race."

"You want me to put my money where my mouth is. What's in it for me?"

"From all your reports, you have a particular magic with machinery." X2 seemed to understand his Queen's game plan. "If you can best both Dodgers and myself, all of your charges against Mars will be dropped. You'll be fed, sheltered, and with your handiwork, you'll certainly be paid well. You'll finally have a place to rest your feet. We'll even throw in dental."

Aspen must've made a face subconsciously because the the short Martian's face and tone went deadpan. "Yes, we have dentists on Mars."

"That's... very kind of you, but I don't need charity. I'm doing just fine."

But that wasn't what the anteater was worried about; heck, that offer sounded amazing. She was more concerned with staying in one spot for too long... she never knew when someone from her old crew was going to find her.

Tyr'ahnee could see she would need better bait. "What if every charge of yours was erased, across the galaxy?"

That made the anteater pause. "Can you... even do that?"

"I can be very convincing if I want to be."

Gears turned in Aspen's head, and eventually... "...I think I can work with that."

"Just remember: Mars offered you pardon first."

"I get it." Aspen looked over at X2 and held out a metal paw. "May the best racer win, Commander."

The shorter Martian grinned with his eyes and gripped her paw in a handshake. "Indeed, and may Dodgers lose."

"Say Commander, do you need... money to enter this race?"

#🐉🎮.txt #clare's writing #oc: aspen #THIS TOOK 40 MINUTES TO FORMAT AUGH #but here you go; take it. very proud of it honestly #i'm gonna go take a shower now

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lilacsofthedead · 6 months

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(forgive me for this, mutuals, you know I almost never post on my own behalf but I'm desperate and maybe one of you will be interested. Please reblog to signal boost?)

It's been a while, but anyone interested in a star wars/Trekkie/Mass Effect type OC scifi setting?

The edges still need smoothing out - I adore being ask questions, it really helps me worldbuild, and I'm not great at the minutae of galactic politics even though I can spin out characters like a mfer. I also have a list of characters (by no way definitive, I'm always happy to make yet more) and a handful of loose plot ideas and tropes I like.

I'd prefer you to be playing a human OC, mostly because I love interspecies friendships and romances, and it would be nice for such a pair to get along. I'm not particularly against nfsw scenes, but unless we immediately click really really well, I like to go for slow burn going into anything like that.

Here's my list of current OCs and their associated species

Some plot ideas (with the species most suited):

First contact at school - early contact on earth, the Womperjess send many of their adolescents and juveniles to earth schools and colleges to learn alongside human youths. Maybe you could be someone helping them settle in?

Mixed species pan-planetary university, settling into dorms and making friends (Doll!Azurite, Womperjess, Karsp)

Fresh off the dirt - Adventures of the JIS Calliope, cargo hauler and occasional asteroid miner. (See OC list for Jute and Falcia crew members, other species besides human welcome.)

Escaping the past (Helping Callah, raptori former slave, flee from his former owners)

Black ops and dirty deals (Karsp and Ostrom, as well as Ajax the Jute) - hiring dangerous people for dangerous work or working with them. They probably need a good medic, in their line of work.

Corporate intrigue - famous Javeen heiress seeks encouraging, plain-speaking friend and/or private investigator to help reconnect with her estranged, prideful, brilliant cousin. (Other species besides human welcome.)

I'm a MASSIVE sucker for hurt/comfort heavy on the comfort end - I really like fixing up hurt characters, but I haven't the stomach for a lot of detailed whump like some of y'all. Mostly I just like people getting along, finding common ground, and fighting together against the odds.

As to myself, I'm a bisexual 34 year old transman (you anti-queer, don't look here) living in the UK, and you can call me Mal. I prefer to RP via email ([email protected]) or gdocs, but I will attempt Discord (PotteryWalrus) only on the promise that no posts will be deleted without warning, except for those misposted or misclicked, if that makes sense. I've had some bad experiences.

And ofc, feel free to slide into my DMs here if anything strikes your fancy.

Don't hesitate to hit me up and I hope we have fun!

#rp me #one on one rp #roleplay ads #roleplay #oc rp #advertising #this is a long shot but im damned if i can find anything else #gods im desperate #please reblog to signal boost

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lovearne · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,831 times in 2022

That's 1,644 more posts than 2021!

414 posts created (23%)

1,417 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nptnewr

@likedovesinthewnd

@a-reader-and-a-writer

@bvcksmunson

@rosemaremembrance

I tagged 901 of my posts in 2022

#arne speaks - 112 posts

#ask - 109 posts

#answered - 93 posts

#anon - 43 posts

#adrian chase x reader - 25 posts

#freddie stroma - 20 posts

#chris smith x reader - 20 posts

#personal - 19 posts

#peacemaker x reader - 19 posts

#freddie stroma x reader - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#me on ny day off and my mom says some shit to me about stuff shes been needing to do for weeks and demads i do it

My Top Posts in 2022:

Origin

Adrian Chase fanfic

Word count: 6.7k

Part 2

Please don't read if under 18, thank you :)

This is a concept I haven't seen before, the origins of Adrian becoming Vigilante in a fanfic before. So I hope yall like it :)

Warnings: military, teen pregnancy (brief), animal death, character death, prison, (I think that's it tbh.)

Adrian is a bit different. He knows this, and he does his best to fit in with society. He tends to copy mannerisms of his favorite people, or people he wants to be like. Gut Chase for example. He was a stud with the ladies, and he was friends with all the guys in high-school. He was a jock, just like Chris. Chris Smith, that's another man that Adrian wants to notice him. He wants to be acknowledged by. He wants to be validated and be seen.

So when Chris started calling Gut and other boys on the team by nicknames in the locker room, based on the shape and look of their penises. Adrian decided he would start fully undressing and changing for his PE class. Which happened to line up with Gut and Chris's football practice.

Chris laughed at his penis, every time he saw it. He'd point and say something along the lines of "Tiny Thimble Chase". The other guys in the locker room would laugh as well, even Gut, especially Gut. So naturally, Adrian would laugh along with them too, just wanting to fit in. Wanting to be normal. In truth, it stroked Adrian's ego. Having Chris make a special name up, just for him.

Chris is Adrian's idol. Has been ever since Gut brought him to their house the first time. Adrian fell, and he fell hard. He became obsessed with his brothers friend, even though he was 10 years his senior. Both Chris and Gut were football coaches well into their 20's. Benefits of Gut being on his leave periods in the military, and Chris training eagley, and being home training.

Adrian joined his high-school football team, just because he wanted to be like his idols, Gut and Chris. And maybe impress them. He started to try and act like every other jock on the team, but it wouldn't work. Adrian was too sweet to people, only seeing the good his mother and father showed him growing up. It was on the team he started to trash talk, he wasn't very good to start with, and he still slips up most times.

That was years ago now, at least 14 years ago. Seems like a lifetime ago really. Adrian had been the vigilante for a good 6 years now. When puberty finally started hitting the man, he bulked up. Using the advice from Gut, and which workouts to do. Nobody was more excited for Adrian than Gut. He was over the moon, he was extremely happy that instead of having a scrawny brother, he could have a brother to go to the gym with. And that's what they did.

The chase siblings did all their working out together, for a year and a half. When Adrian turned 22, he started going through puberty. And he was in his second year in law school. Life was going pretty good for him. He was finally being successful at holding weight and muscle mass, his overactive metabolism has seemed to slow down. He was beginning to see real change in his body from working out with Gut all the time.

A year and a half later is when he got the news. His brother had been pronounced dead, he was serving a tour over in a war torn country, he got caught by an IED. Adrian never cried as hard as he did that day. He had finally, finally had a relationship with his older brother, and it was torn away by some asshole with a bomb. He had finally made his brother proud of him, and it was all taken away.

Not too long after that, Adrian dropped out of his law class, but kept his law books. It's a special interest of his, always has been.

He went full time at fennel fields, and put all of his free time into working out, and all the classes he could for the martial arts.

He trained himself hard, spending hours upon hours at the gym, and fighting against every opponent.

It wasn't long before the peacemaker emerged from his brother's friend. Adrian was in awe. Because if Chris could do it, then so could Adrian. So at 24 that's who he became. A masked vigilante, named just that. It took a long while to get to the suit he desired. One that would protect his vulnerabilities, but also not restrict his movements in any way. He always had a general design, a layout if you will of what he wanted. His favorite colour is teal, so he wove that in, along with the meaning of clarity of mind,

Adrian is pretty clear in his moral code. And the peacemaker wears red, so he wanted his visor red. The white stripes on his suit represent the purity and innocence of the people he stands for. He stands for the people that can't protect themselves, stands for the people who can't avenge themselves, and stands for the people the law has let down.

All this being said, Adrian does let his heart open for all to see. Even though he may not realise. He tries and tries to guard his heart from hurt, but again and again, he let's it show for everyone. He says he doesn't have any emotions, prides himself on it. But he really just wants to be liked, and loved. He tries so hard, just to fit in, to not be the odd one out. He plays it off too, not well, but he does.

When the peacemaker first met the vigilante, he was minorly impressed. How he fought, he took down 5 people, all in the span of two minutes. Adrian swore his pride grew tenfold at that. He knew he looked good, he knew he fought well, his teachers told him. And now the peacemaker is telling him this. Chris Smith? Holy shit! His idol is praising him.

After the fight was over, the peacemaker and vigilante hung around a bit. They were practicing shooting at the appliances that were all dumped in the woods. Evergreen doesn't have a recycle plant for them, and their landfill will not take them, so the people just dump them in a specified part of the woods. It unsaid became their thing, they would hang around and shoot their guns at dead appliances, sometimes practicing with other weapons, such as Adrian's compound bow, and peacemakers blow darts.

It's not news to Adrian when the peacemaker tells him he's got a kid. They were around pretty often when he was growing up. Since the month after he turned 7, to be frank. Chris was 17 when the baby was born, he wasn't ready to be a dad. Not even close. But their mother had disappeared. She had the baby, and left, left a note on the hospital bed with their fathers name, and left. So he had two choices. Be the father they needed, or allow his father to raise them. And Chris knew he wasn't gonna damn another kid to the same torture he endured growing up.

So he started the hardest job he was ever going to have, being a dad. He baby proofed his trailer, with the help of Gut, and for some reason also Adrian, although Adrian was resigned to taking care of the baby. Well, sort of. He was just tasked with the distraction of the baby. The baby was a curious one indeed, especially since none of the boys are used to taking care of babies. Well, Gut helped a lot when Adrian was a baby, but that's all the experience either of the boys had.

Adrian had fun with the baby, he'd make a funny face and the baby would laugh. They weren't not but 4 months old, and sitting all by themselves. And right on the verge of crawling. Adrian and Guts mother was over, and saw the progress that y/n had made, and kindly let Chris know that they would be bonking into several sharp objects, and knocking over shelves if they didn't baby proof his house.

Adrian kept the baby fairly busy, always making them laugh, or crawling around with them on his back. Adrian quite liked babies, he decided, they are the only people that didn't think of him as being a weirdo. He even gave them their first nickname, but that was when they were older. Well, besides their dad. Their dad gave them lots of nicknames.

Gut even gave them a few nicknames, what a sight to see, the boy who enlisted when he turned 18 the previous month, smiled and just melted because a baby was holding his finger. He remembers thinking that this little one is lucky, they already have so many people here to take care of them, make sure they are safe. And God be damned, if Gut wasn't going to make sure his best friend's kid was safe. He'd protect them with his life, just like he would with Adrian, he'd throw himself off a plane for the little boy. He'd kill for him, he decided that when he was old enough to know what that meant. He'd kill for his baby brother, and he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Adrian

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115 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

legit i only have on request tho! maybe adrian/jake (either one) w a reader who has never had their first kiss before and asks him to teach them how to kiss??

First off, I lice this request sm!!!! The first kiss/teach me is one of my faves!!!! Second I really hope you enjoy it!!! I kinda jut threw it together :)

Pairing: Jake martin x gn reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of harm, blood, doctors, first kiss (I think that's all :)

Jake Martin, name of the man you are so head over heels for. Also the name of the flirtiest yet most clueless person you've met. His name is also synonymous with the best friend you could have. Even if he is a bit air headed, you love him all the same. You always teach him so much, and he's so grateful for that, he gives your cheek a kiss every time you help him. It's just a way to display how much he cares about you, and to thank you, without saying the words.

You two in every essence of the word are best friends. You don't have any secrets, he even knows that you've never been kissed. When you first told him, you were drunk, after a night out celebrating. You definitely had a few too many, and blurted it out to him. You asked then, if he'd kiss you just so you wouldn't go much longer without having your first kiss. He ultimately said no, but to ask him again when you've thought about it, and were sober.

The issue with that is you are afraid. Things are a lot scarier when you're sober. Months passed since then, and you've been on a couple dates with different men. But you've dodged any and all kisses, not wanting to give them your first kiss, confident in the fact that you wouldn't be good at it because you hadn't yet.

On your third date with the same man, he voiced his concerns about you blatantly ignoring when he'd go in for a kiss. You calmly explained that you just thought it was a very intimate gesture, and you'd only kiss someone after the third date. Apparently that satisfied the man, and he agreed. He told you that you were just too pretty not to kiss, and he was finding it a little odd you didn't want to kiss him. You faked a laugh as your phone rang. "Oh shit, I have to get that," your date nods in understanding. "He freaking what? Ok I'll be right there!" Looking at your date as you hang up, he frowns slightly. "Seems we've cut short, yeah?" You smile politely, internal panic rising, "I just gotta get to the hospital, Jake got hurt. He needs me, I'll talk to you later."

As soon as you get to the hospital you see Jake in the waiting area with Amir beside him. As soon as Jake sees you he's practically falling off his chair trying to wave you over. When you get over to them, you take Jake's chin in your hand and tilt his head every which way, "where did you get hurt Q?" He smiles at his nickname but winces at the light above his head, putting it back down. "I'm not hurt, Amir forced me here." Amir scoffs pretty loudly, "actually you are hurt, he fell and hit his head, the nurse said he likely has a concussion." Looking back at Jake, he's giving you the innocent puppy eyes, "how bad is your pain, and how long have you two been waiting for?" Jake smiles at you now, grabbing your hips and yanking you on his lap. "I'm not hurting anymore, and we've been waiting a while, but now you're sitting."

You move around on Jake's lap, getting comfy, this isn't the first time you've sat in this man's lap, and probably won't be the last. You are quite literally straddling him this time, the way he pulled you down, so you end up with his head against your shoulder cuddling him to you as he whines softly about how much it actually hurts. Just loud enough for you to hear. So you cradle his head in your hand, other one behind his back, rubbing it.

You hum at him and Whisper sweet words to him. "Just don't fall asleep, ok handsome?"

When the doctors finally bring you to the back, Jake is very sleepy, and very irritated that he had to get back up. Every test the doctor wanted to administer he was complaining. He'd get grouchy and jumpy. When it came to his blood test, just as precaution they are giving him a full physical. He wouldn't let the nurse poke him with the needle. He'd jerk his arm away and glare at him. Even Amir was getting frustrated. "Jake just sit down and let him stab you! You are stressing me out!" Jake's always been a bit fussy when it comes to things he doesn't like, "Well then you sit here and let the male nurse stab you, is this really needed?" He asked the nurse after. Still pulling his arm away.

"Sir, we really do need to get a full blood test to see if there's anything we are missing." Jake still shakes his head.

"No, absaloutley not, I'm not letting you stab me 4 million times to see I'm fine." Jake then watches as you pull the nurse aside, talking to him in a hushed tone. You walk towards him and hold your hand out. "Alright Q, make some room." He gives you his hand, uncrossing his arms as you move closer to him. You place one knee between on the outside of his left thigh, and one on his right. Sitting on his lap as you settle on the exam table, ontop of him.

Jake smiles broad at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and just hiding you there. "Why are you sitting on me for y/n?" You reach a hand to play with his hair, lightly scratching his scalp, "because Q, you need your blood drawn, and I'm gonna sit with you, ok? Nothing to be afraid of, they are going to get it in one shot, I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose, and he nods. Putting his arm out for the nurse to stick the needle in.

As you were waiting on the vials to be drawn, Jake keeps whispering questions to you. Just random thoughts he had, "do you still want me to teach you how to kiss?"

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118 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

@peacemakernet event 01: fic exchange for @theowritesstuff

You take Adrian to your brothers wedding

Pairing: Adrian Chase x gn! Reader

Rating: general, idiots in love, only one bed, fake dating

Word count: 2.6k+

This is kind of a mess, but I hope you like it Theo!! Happy fic exchange day!! :D

You and Adrian have known each other for a while now. A couple of years, and he knew everything about you. You knew everything about him, you guys were nothing short of best friends, he'd never admit that though, his best friend is always gonna be Chris, no matter what. There's just something g about him that he will never let go.

Chris had gone to prison before you could really meet him, so you only know of him from what Adrian has said about him. Adrian only ever talked about peacemaker and how sick he is. And also how hot Christopher Smith was in high-school, he showed you Guts yearbook, and yeah he was definitely a looker.

Adrian very clearly had a crush on the older man, he was his biggest crush growing up, as he's told you before. Hes always been his biggest crush to date. Or at least according to what he's told you.

You don't keep any secrets from Adrian, never. You are always truthful and straightforward with him. So when a wedding invite comes in the mail, you find yourself bugging Adrian at work.

"I don't understand why it's such a big deal. Just go to the wedding."

"That's what I'm telling you, I can't go. There's no way I can go."

"Why?" Adrian's cute little confused face never ceased to make you smile. You loved seeing his reactions to things.

"Because I told my family the next time they would see me I'd be engaged. And my last relationship fell apart." He nods, still confused.

"Don't they know you broke up?" You huff a laugh, tears blurring your eyes.

"I'm the family fuck up Adrian. I can't hold a job, I can't get anybody to stay with me. I can't even keep a freaking plant alive. They will chew me up if I go." Your hand on your forehead, pacing back and forth. Adrian followed you with his eyes.

"Wouldn't they also chew you up if you don't go. It's your brother's wedding, this is important." You only started to pace more, and faster.

"I know and it's making me feel so bad, I'm gonna fucking throw up. I don't want to miss this, but they totally think I'm gonna have a man on my arm and it's just gonna be terrible." The tears had started to flow now. Adrian being, well Adrian, he grabs your elbow, stopping you in place. And awkwardly rubs your back.

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121 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

Colonel

Rick flag x afab reader

All of my fics and my whole page is 18+ only, if you are a child leave. I deserve a safe space to express myself, all blogs under 18 or no age will be blocked. Let me enjoy my experience safely on the internet, thank you.

Warnings: Brat reader, sex themes, dirty talk (mild), oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, masturbation, nude picture descriptions, masturbation on camera, sexually frustrated rick flag, jealous rick flag

Word count: 2.2K+

I meshed two requests for this fic, I hope ya’ll enjoy reading <3

I’m humbly begging for “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” With Rick flag

making eye-contact with your partner from across the room, gesturing at them to follow you outside and this with rick???

Hey babe, when do you come home? You texted Rick, he'd been gone all day and it was starting to annoy you. It was supposed to be his day off but it's currently 18:00 and he hasn't even texted you.

Sorry darling, I'll be heading home within the next two hours, Waller just has me slammed today.

You sigh, he'd just gotten back from a 2 week long mission and you haven't even seen him yet. You know he slept beside you because his side was messy, but you hadn't actually spent time with him for more than 2 weeks. You haven't been intimate for 3 weeks, much too long for your liking, life has just been very hectic. The both of you had decided that when you two were going to be apart that you wanted to spend time with each other, sex wasnt a need in your relationship, besides you were babysitting that week, so you had two little cock blockers.

I miss you though :( You had sent back. Followed by a few crying face emojis. He always breaks when you get pouty with him, that bleeding heart of his. God you love that man.

I’m sorry darling but I’m really tied up here, I want to come home to you badly but just need to wait it out sweetheart.

Your frown had deepend on your face. Pulling down to your chin. Can’t you just do it faster? I really need my colonel to report to duty. An idea born into your brain, you smirk. Walking over to where Rick's military issue uniform was kept quite neatly hanging in a bag in the closet. You unzip the bag, grabbing out his decorated colonels jacket out of it. Turning to grab his beige ball cap with the American flag out of his top drawer. Returning to your phone you see several messages.

Babe I know. Fuck, don’t call me that, you know what that does, and I’m at work.

Babe?

Oh, so you’re fucking with me? You’ll pay for that later daring.

The last one sent a shiver down your spine. Sending a message of your own. Oh hush up colonel, I’m right here baby. Gotta make you worry every once in a while. make s the heart grow fonder.

Yeah, whatever the fuck thats supposed to mean.

You scoff into the room at his response. Taking your clothes off one at a time, taking a picture of each piece, after taking a picture of yourself. Dressing in just his jacket and hat afterwards.

Colonel?

Fuck babe, your gonna get me hard at my desk, stop that. You laugh.

“Jesus am I evil,” You laugh into your, no ricks jacket sleeve. Bet I could make you super hard without much effort baby boy. You bite your lip hitting the send button. You can imagine Rick's face as he reads that line, watching as the three typing bubbles appear.

What? What did you just call me. Got him. You smile wide, sending the first picture you took, dressed in your regular clothes. Seeing the read status right underneath as soon as it was sent. You had the man on the edge of his seat.

Oh darling, you're so beautiful. Your heart skips, everytime without fail, everytime he compliments you, he makes you feel like the only person in the world.

You send him a picture of your shirt thrown on the floor.

Doing laundry sweetheart? You chuckle at his reply, sending the pic of your pants also in the pile. All he sent this time was a single question mark. You send him the pic of your bra joining the pile.

Don’t you fucking dare. Your spine sends a shiver down your body getting a true thrill from this, from teasing him. Sending a picture of your damp panties. Watching again as the bubbles pop up and disappear four times before his message comes through.

This is your warning, stop or you will pay for it when I get home. You smile very cheekily.

What if that's exactly what I want, Colonel Flag? Gonna spank me for insubordination? That's kinky sir. You smile, pretty proud of yourself and the comeback you sent. Wow, sometimes you surprise yourself with your sassiness and attitude.

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145 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Glimpses in to suit making with Adrian (GN reader)

Warnings: blood, fluff, mentions of fighting

Word count: 2.2K

I had this thought the other day and was encouraged to write about it. So I hope you enjoy!!

You were always most tired after a long night with him. The noises and feelings overstimulating you all night. So much so that you wake up later in the morning than you usually do. Game night is always the hardest on your body. It can range from a innocent adn competitive card game, all the way to just dance. And Adrian puts his whole soul into the discography to the songs on it. Sore muscles with dull aches aways greet you after an amazing date night with him.

So when opening your eyes that morning, it wasn't a big surprise when he was already up and out of bed, going on about his day, being his busy bodied self. Even though it is your rare day off together. You could always ask him to cuddle.

Adrian standing inside the bathroom staring at himself in the mirror isn't a scary thing, you are used to his behavior by now. The part that makes you jump is the dark ski mask on his face, making him appear as a cat burglar. As he jumps, you realize you scared him quite a bot as well, reaching up and tearing the ski mask off his face.

"Y/n! I wasn't just checking out how hot I'd look in my ski gear" He gets out nervously. You giggle at his panic, "baby, you are always hot, now you'd be able to see yourself better with your glasses, put your mask back on and wear your glasses."

He does as you ask, adjusting the mask so the opening is wide enough. "I have never been more uncomfortable, well maybe that time I walked in my parents bedroom and they were having sex but spent an hour explaining to me that they were just wrestling." Adrian take his glasses off, placing them in your hand.

You just smile, leaning up to kiss the exposed bridge of his nose. You hum in thought, "We will just have to find an alternative, can't have you running around half blind, you'll hit all the trees." Adrian makes a cartoon eske face. Scrunched his face up and his lips all spread. You are unable to hold your laugh as you look at him. He looks at you with admiration, the fact he brings you joy making his heart sing.

You lean into his chest, giggling harder. Adrian swears his heart echos at that moment. He knows he has to keep his nighlty activities far away from touching you. He can't risk you ever getting caught in the crossfire. His arms are around you, one hand on your lower back, and the other between your shoulder blades.

"Now may you take that mask off and come back to bed so we can cuddle?" Adrian doesn't answer back, he just pulls you closer into him.

Coming home from work a week later, you find Adrian home and cooking dinner. Pushing some food around in a pan with a spatula. Walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, after dropping your go bag on the ground. You press your head against his shoulder, just feeling his presence after a stressful day.

"Hey, I'm making your favorite, Thursdays are always your worst days." Adrian, always so sweet, he never forgets a thing you tell him. He is truly your best friend, in every way. You lean up to kiss the back of his neck, tightens your arms for leverage. "Why are you always so sweet on me? Rhetorical question handsome." He hums and moves his arms a little. "Babe, if you don't want me to burn your bad day dinner, your gonna have to let me go." You giggle and release your hold on him.

Grabbing cutlery, you make your way to the table, to set it for dinner. "Hey baby, why is my grandma sewing machine out?" On the far side of the table, your old sewing machine is sat with various clumps of clothing. You double check to ensure it's unplugged before arranging your dining ware onto the table. Adrian, like yourself, quickly forgets about small tasks like unplugging things, no harm as long as one of you makes sure the task is done.

You hear him let out a breath, getting all excited for a second. "Oh yeah! I got that out today, I was watching some videos on how to properly sew a shirt. I think I've gotten a good grasp on it, well kinda." You laugh a little, "Well looks like you've found out how to thread the needle, that's farther than I've gotten without help. And this stitch work is beautiful, baby!"

Now plating up your dinner he smiles largely. "Thank you! I was sewing with your regular needles, but I kept poking myself and the fabric isn't the same colour as my blood, so I cleaned up the sewing machine and figured it out."

He sits now, a proud look on his face, loving the praise you've just given him. "Well either way, it's going to look amazing handsome. Is there a reason you wanted to make a shirt?" He squirms in his seat a little, his face pulling into one of discomfort and nervousness. You place your hand on his, and gently rub your thumb along it, a soothing gesture.

"I just think it's really cool to be self sustained. Like if I can make us our shirts? Then you'd be wearing something made by your best friend, and I'd be able to make them with the materials I like. You know I hate tags and seams." You smile at his reasoning, "I'd proudly wear anything my best friend, and love of my life make for me. And I think that's a really good idea baby, do you need help measuring yourself? I have some soft body tape measures in my nightstand, after dinner I could take your measurements and you could have clothing tailored to yourself."

The look Adrian gives you in that sentence is one you challenge yourself to see at least three times a week, if not then three times a day. He looks awestruck at you, as if you are the first thing he's seeing. "I'll take that as a yes, just to warn you, pants measuring is gonna feel odd. I will explain anything that I am doing to you tho." He nods, and the conversation leads to stitch patterns he's learned. And even though you've learned most of them already, you pay attention to what he's saying and let him explain everything to you.

Most nights you feel Adrian leave your bed. But he's always been restless, most nights he would get up, make some noise, and then sounds would fade away as you drift back off. Eventually you'd feel him slip back into bed, and give you a kiss on the forehead, holding you as he warms you back up, his side of the bed being frosty.

Tonight, that's not the case. When he left bed, you fell back asleep like normal. But later into the night, maybe 3 am, you head clashing and banging. You hear what sounds like falling as well. You are out of bed in record time, grabbing your baseball bat on the way. Ready to smash whoever the fuck has broken in and is fighting Adrian. Sneaking out into the kitchen, you prepare to swing, rounding the corner, the noises get louder. As you were about to swing at the dark figure at your sink, he turns his head to look at you. Adrian frozen still, he's dawning a suit, not like a tuxedo, but a suit that looks like superman's. Skin tight all over, except it has rips and you can see gouges and scratches all over his body. As well as, through his ski mask he is holding a wet towel to his head. "It's not what it looks like I promise you, I definetly don't sneak out to fight and kill bad guys, Y/n I promise you." Adrian is rapid firing excuses, and explanations, but for once you aren't listening to your boyfriends rambling.

Instead you are moving towards him. Reaching for the towel he's holding. And softly grasping the bottom of his mask. Gently pulling it over his head. Revealing a nasty black eye, a split lip, and a cut along his cheek, and one on his nose. "Oh baby" you hold his face in your hands, "what happened to you?"

Adrian was expecting anger, or disappointment, maybe even disgust. But you weren't one to judge him, never. So instead, Adrian only experienced your whole hearted Concern and affection. You didn't care he was wearing a crime fighting suit, you didn't care that he was dripping blood on your expensive-ish rug. You oy cared about him, how he git injured and helping him.

He starts to get a little lightheaded and stumbles, you support him with your body, "Oh my gosh, baby I'm so sorry, are you ok? Let's get you over on the couch. I'm gonna go grab my first aid kit." As Adrian sits there on the couch he just basks in your love.

You give him all your love, in the purest ways, and everytime he realises it, it blows him away. Making your way back to him, you help him out of his suit, so he's just sat in his underwear. "OK Adrian, I'm gonna start to check your wounds, just to see if any need stitches, let me know if anything hurts, ok?" You poke at his skin, looking for anywhere you can feel blood, or cuts.

He has a stab wound on his right hip. Somebody stabbed Adrian. What the fuck happened. And who did this?

"I know you found the stab place. Don't worry, I killed him. He won't be trying to find me anymore." You smile slightly at Adrian's attempt to comfort you. He's never been amazing at reading the mood of the room. But with you he's more observant.

He tries his best to read your emotions and tone. You adopted tone indicators, talking to and around Adrian. You understand the inability to read tone, you yourself having troubles with it. It makes life that much easier for the both of you.

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173 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

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danniburgh · 3 years

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Sins of the Flesh (priest!Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: priest!Dave York x f!reader

Summary: His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed. “Lord, have mercy on me.”

Word count: +10.9k

Warnings: religion! catholic religion to be precise, a lot A LOT of religious references and undertones (shot every time you find one lmao), age gap (around 15 years, reader is legal), smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex, breaking of celibacy vows!, catholic guilt, me making divine metaphors... i think thats it.

A/N: first of all this is all @asta-lily’s fault, she asked why no one had turned this man into a priest and i said “ok ill do it” so i did it, she is to blame. also i wanna say thanks to the pocket wives that encouraged this creation, sorry my loves, this isnt as slutty as yall thought lmao, and thanks to @alliterative-albatross who gave me all the bible verses that shaped this story as well. and i wanna thank the creator of this playlist that i listened over and over while writing this, and yeah, sorry for this monstrosity, love you <3

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by @asta-lily

“So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.”–James 4:12.

Sunday 1.

Like a piece in a puzzle.

That’s how you fit in.

There, sitting in the middle of a ten people polished wood bench, eyes on the four feet tall crucified Jesus on the wall above the altar, ready for the first sermon you were to hear after coming back home.

Home. That was the name.

That church felt like home.

You were enjoying sitting there, among the children you met a couple of hours earlier when you were introduced to them as their new catechesis teacher, breathing in and out the myrrh incense burning and invading the navel and your lungs, filling them with new energy, getting them ready to feel the love that you were sure was about to pour over you.

You heard your name behind you and you turned around to see Mrs. Stevens, one of your mother’s friends waving at you from two rows behind.

“Hi, honey!” she smiled at you and immediately you reciprocated “I heard you were in town, are you staying this time?”

You drowned a chuckle inside your chest and bit your lip, nodding. Just realizing you even had missed the venomous messages hidden behind the kind words mouthed by old catholic moms.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens, I’m staying this time.” you replied, the woman lifted her hand a bit to the sky and you smirked to her.

“God bless, I bet your mom is delighted you’re here!” she muttered “I know she missed you terribly all those years you were in that school.”

“It’s called college, Mrs. Stevens,” you reminded the woman, and she rolled her eyes, making you chuckle softly again “but do not worry for my mama anymore, I graduated, I’m staying for good.” you told her, amused at the way she acted as if you staying at home was some godsend blessing.

The organ began to play on the upper balcony behind everyone and you saw two altar boys, carbon copy of each other, almost rushing their way to the altar, and behind them… Father Dave.

You smiled softly at the sight of him as he walked solemnly to the altar, his green chasuble flowing with the air and the movement, there was a thought you had all those years you were away from home because of school, always coming back to Father Dave York: the young priest that decided to stay in the first congregation he was sent to, the one that became a pillar to the community, the holy man that held the direct link to God and that gave you your first communion, the one you missed when you went to attend mass at the church near campus because no one gave the sermons like he did. For some reason, whenever you least expected, you thought of him.

You saw him putting his bible on top of the pressed cloth over the altar, kneel and kiss the center of it and cross himself. And then, after he closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to himself and to God, he opened his deep brown eyes and he looked at you.

“Let us pray.”

Your mouth dried when his deep timbered voice, with the help of a small microphone on his altar, wrapped the entire navel and you with it, he looked at you as he cleared his throat and he opened his arms to the sky, breaking eye contact with you.

“Lord, have mercy.” he murmured, and the congregation replied to his prayer as you struggled to find the air that had escaped your lungs.

As Father Dave guided the congregation through the sermon and through the prayers, all you could see was him.

In some way, there was something different about him you hadn’t noticed the last time you were there; you didn’t know if it was something about his deep voice as he recited the credo by muscle memory, the way he walked from one side of the sanctuarium to the other as he talked about the scripture or the way his hands wrapped around the chalice when one of the altar boys handed it to him as the organ echoed all around the navel, announcing the communion.

You stood up and walked to the back of the line and sighed as he lifted the wafer to the sky, and your eyes closed by themselves when he lifted the chalice and took a sip from the sacramental wine and locked your eyes on him as the line moved.

As soon as you were in front of him your lips parted and he smiled at you softly.

“The body of Christ.” he murmured, his deep brown eyes on yours as they filled with tears.

“Amen” and you opened your mouth.

He put the wined wafer between your lips and his thumb brushed with your chin, making your skin burn as you brought it inside of your mouth with your tongue and forced yourself to walk away from him.

As you returned to your seat with the gold cross that hung from your neck between your fingers and kneeled to pray for the forgiving of your sins, all you could think of was brown, deep eyes, and a soft, brief touch on your chin that burned more than the wax of a burning taper.

Dave felt it.

The way you looked at him throughout the entire service.

And it made him feel different.

When you rose from your seat to walk to the communion line, he saw the way your body moved, almost as if you were floating instead of walking.

He knew you were back, and his heart was happy you were finally home.

But he didn’t expect to see you so changed.

And he didn’t expect the way your eyes had made him feel.

Then you were in front of him, and he smiled because he remembered the first time he handed the body of Christ to you, years and years before.

And your eyes filled with tears as his breath hitched when your lips parted for him as he fed you the sacred soul of the savior.

God, have mercy.

His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed.

Lord, have mercy on me. He thought as he entered the sacristy.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”–Proverbs 28:13.

Sunday 2.

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” Dave heard your voice next to him and felt the air leave from his lungs. Not you, please God, not you.

You had been avoiding Father Dave for almost the entire week.

And you felt guilty about it.

You couldn’t even look at him in the eyes and not think about those dreams you were having about him.

If God was all love and perfection, why was he tempting you with dreams of Father Dave, his own servant, touching you in places you got shivers from, warming your body with his own, putting his mouth on your skin as you repeated his name like it was the sanctus?

Holy, holy, holy.

Why was God putting inside your head the sins of the flesh you had already asked forgiveness for? Why was he making you desire a forbidden man? A man that was not to be perceived as a man but as the representation of him on earth.

That morning, when you walked into the church to impart the catechesis class, you saw Jesus on the cross and you saw him look at you. And you knew he knew.

All omnipresent, all omniscient, all omnipotent.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Almighty God why were you thinking about him so much?

And the resolution in your mind was asking for forgiveness, you needed to pay penitence for those thoughts you knew you did.

But were you really about to confess to the man you had been dreaming about that he was invading your every thought?

“It has been two weeks since my last confession.” you mumbled, playing with your cross over your neck, Dave breathed in deeply and intertwined his hands on his lap.

“What are your sins?” he asked, closing his eyes as he remembered his own.

Dave was always a man of faith. It was in him from birth. He had been taught and trained to not fall into any temptations and so far his life had been devoted and dedicated to God and only to God.

But your eyes and the way you saw him, and the way your eyes made him feel when they locked on his, had him spiraling down into decadence.

Sometimes, dedicating his life to the word of the Lord made him forget he was still a human, he was still a man.

He had needs.

And he was alright before your eyes. Before your holy eyes were on him.

He had dreamed of them; he had thought of them; he had imagined them when he was in the limbo between sleep and awakeness.

He had dreamed of your lips, of your lips on his skin, he had thought of those lips that just looked like they needed someone to wet them and bring them back to life; he had imagined those lips of yours in places of his body he swore never to use.

He had prayed for them to disappear; he had begged to his God to erase those thoughts of his mind and free them from the temptation that was incarnated in you, in your body, in your eyes that denied to see him when you were in the same room, in your hands as you moved them to teach the children, in your legs trapped in the tight denim of your jeans, in your lips as you smiled to everyone but him, in your entire being, just by existing.

But they had increased, like a tamed flame sprayed with gasoline. He had a fire in his chest, one that was spreading through him as he was closer to you.

He needed them gone; he had sworn to never look at a woman as an object of desire; he had sworn on his life and he had vowed his commitment.

But you were there, kneeling next to him, separated by the thinnest patterned panel, holding the matches and the fuel.

“I’ve been having… improper thoughts, father,” you whispered, closing your eyes and left your necklace alone, clutching your hands together as tight as you could, you felt the aura change and the air grow thicker between him and you, “about a man.”

Dave opened his eyes at your confession and frowned. A man?

He knew you could tell him whatever you wanted; he knew he wasn’t allowed to ask in for details; he knew he was only there functioning as a link for you to get absolved from your sins and you were a young woman granted of free will and enough time to ask for absolution but he wanted to know; he needed to know who that man was.

“He is ol–older than me,” he heard you mumble and his hands tightened their grip on each other “and I can’t have him, father, I–I’ve been having these thoughts about a forbidden man.”

Dave’s mind went reeling, and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t like to assume about the life of his congregation members, he never did, but you were talking to him, after he had been dreaming about you for days, after you two shared something about desiring another man. And he was angry. He wanted to know who. He wanted to know who was keeping your mind the same way you were keeping his.

“He keeps me up at night, thinking of him, that is,” you whispered “I’ve–Jesus,” you let out the air of your lungs and Dave breathed in deeply once more “I’ve touched myself thinking of him.” you said under your breath and Dave felt his chest tug and turn.

“Does this man… know what he is causing in you?” he muttered with a frown and heard you sigh.

“No, I don’t want him to.”

“Alright, child,” he replied after a few seconds, and made a grimace of disgust at the pet name. It felt wrong, and he felt dirty with the word on his mouth, “do you repent these sins?”

“Yes, father, I do.” you closed your eyes at his words and wanted, for once, to be brave and tell him he was the one roaming around your mind. But it wasn’t fair.

“Please, recite in silence the act of contrition,” he muttered to you and you obeyed, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

As he waited for you to finish, he did the same on his side of the confession box

I’m choosing to sin and failing to do good.

“Amen.” you said, and he murmured the word to the ceiling.

“I think the word you do for the church,” he started, and you wrinkled your nose at the thought of him knowing it was you “the devotion you have, and how you repent, you don’t need to pay penance,” he muttered separating his hands and putting two fingers on the edge of the patterned panel that separated the two of you “through the ministry of the church,” your breath hitched as he whispered the words to you, and you saw with teary eyes the shadow of his fingers on the panel “man God give you pardon and peace,” you bit your lip and unclutched your hands, lifting your fingers and pressing it to his as two heavy tears fell from your eyes.

Dave felt the pressure of your touch and felt his hand tremble.

“And I ab–absolve you from your sin.” he said under his breath, pressing back.

“Thank you, father.” you whispered, not moving your fingers. You could feel the warmth of his through it and for a few seconds, you could also feel his eyes on your face.

Dave was the one to break the contact first. Absentmindedly brushing his fingers on his stole as he saw the shadow of you move and get out of the confession box.

He sat there, thankful you were the only one that morning and thinking about what you had told him.

A man of God, a man of hope. He had hoped, even if it was a sin and even if it was forbidden by pure creed and vow, that you were feeling the same as he was.

For a moment, he wondered about those thoughts… Were you thinking about that lucky old man touching you? Were you thinking about that man kissing you? What did that man look like? He wanted to be that man; he wanted to be the one whose touch you desired; he wanted to be that man you thought of as you sneaked your hand inside your underwear at night and brought yourself to pleasure. He wanted to be the one whose kiss you yearned for as your sex ached for attention; he wanted to be the one whose fingers you imagined as your own were buried deep inside you.

He fisted the flesh of his thigh over his dress pants and forced himself to stop thinking of you like that.

Dave stayed inside the confession box for twenty minutes more, praying for forgiveness, as he had done every night since you had been back.

At service, he saw you further back on the benches and he tried not to sneak glances at you as you sat there with your precious eyes on the crucifix above him, avoiding him at all costs.

And at communion, he tried not to brush your soft skin with his fingers as he fed you the wined wafer, failing when his knuckle brushed your cheek, his chest deflating when he noticed the way your face quirked in pain when you muttered Amen at him. Dave tried not to make anything of the fact that you kneeled more time than anyone else on the congregation after receiving the communion.

And when the service was over and he was alone in the sacristy, he tried and failed to not think about your skin, your eyes, your hands and your lips all over his neglected body.

That sunday night Father Dave masturbated in the shower thinking about you with your fingers deep inside you as his mind imagined it was him you thought of when you touched yourself in the darkness of the night and prayed for forgiveness.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that.

“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.”–1 Peter 2:11.

Sunday 3.

“Father, sh–shit,” you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning as your pointer and middle fingers circled your wet clit under the covers of your bed, your legs spread open, the soft cotton of the sheets grazing softly at your inner thighs as you imagined your fingers being one of Father Dave’s, as you imagined him next to you, with his arm above your head as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and nibbled at your neck while his other hand played your clit like a master pianist. You imagined the hardness of his erection pressing patiently on the skin of your hip, wetting it with pre-semen, making your body burn with the feeling of his warm naked body beside you.

As your other hand played with your nipple you imagined his eyes taking you in, you imagined his lips on your skin, were they soft? you bet they were, and you bet as well his hand would be surprisingly rough for a priest.

“Jesus, fu–fuck.” the knot inside your lower belly exploded with the thought of him and his hand and his body and his lips and his priesthood and you came with a silent scream that made your ears ring for a few seconds and your legs tremble on the bed.

As you hazed out, ready to fall asleep again before your alarm went off to go to work at the church, you felt that familiar guilt cripple inside you and settle in your chest, warming up and leaning against your heart.

Dave was panting, he fisted his hand as he leaned on the tiled wall of his shower and his other hand moved desperately on his cock. The water was still warm, and he closed his eyes shut as he imagined it was your hand on him, giving him the pleasure he was seeking, as he imagined you were behind him, your lips brushing against the wet skin of his back, your free hand around his chest, gliding softly at his skin, making him whimper with your touch.

It was so early for him to be so hot over you again; it wasn’t good for him to give into these desires he had and had been praying so hard and so much to get rid of.

He didn't want to keep doing it and he surely didn’t feel good after it, but his body ached for you, his chest turned every time he thought about you, every time he saw you around the church, he felt the deepest, hottest desire for you and your hands and your body and he just couldn’t help it.

His hand gripped and pumped as fast as he could and he came with a silent groan, opening his eyes as he finished milking every drop of his seed and watched it mix with the shower water and go down the drain. Along with the decency and morality that was left inside him.

You heard your name being said, and you turned around as you finished picking up your things from the small desk you used to teach the catechism; you saw Mrs. Vega, the church custodian, a small, old lady that had known you forever, walking towards you.

“I’m sorry dear, but I want to ask you for something.” she said when you smiled at her.

“Of course, Mrs. Vega, what is it?” you put your small book inside your bag and hung it from your shoulders.

“You see, the little twins that help Father Dave are sick today,” you frowned at the mention of Father’s Dave name but let out a sad sigh at her statement, “and they can’t come help with the service, you’re the youngest of the teachers, could you do it?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and felt your stomach churn inside you at the thought of standing next to the altar for a whole service.

“Me?” you asked, your voice in a high pitch as Mrs. Vega reached for your arm and tugged you to walk out of the chapel and into the navel of the church.

“Yes, dear, remember only the youngest get to do it.” she obviated, pulling you with her to the transept and up two steps to the sanctuarium “you only need to hand him the communion things and the holy water, I will prepare everything for you.”

“Why don’t you do it?” you asked in a whisper, not daring to take a step further closer to the altar. Mrs. Vega turned to look at you, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Since when are you shy, girl?” she asked with a teasing smile “I remember you singing in that kiddie choir we used to have and doing it terribly,” you chuckled at the memory and bit your lip “it’s only until the boys get that bug they got out of them.” she palmed your arm, and you breathed in deeply.

You looked up at the crucified Jesus above the altar and silently begged him for anticipated forgiveness.

Dave almost cursed when he saw you standing next to the altar as he walked across the navel.

The thought of who would replace Bobby and Chris on their altar duties didn’t even cross his mind as he was more worried about praying for the boys and sending them some sweets and pleading for the cleansing of his soul after the incident on his shower earlier that morning.

As he stepped up to the sanctuarium your eyes locked on his and he noticed you lips parting when he nodded his chin once at you, he noticed the way you swallowed as you nodded back and for a brief second, his imagination ran wild and made him believe you felt the same way as he did about you.

Even if it was the wrongest thing to think about.

It was like torture.

An hour of torture.

You got to see him kneel behind the altar and kiss the white pressed cloth softly as he stood, as you wanted and wished to be the altar’s cloth he pressed his plump lips on, he crossed himself and you mimicked his movements. And for a brief fraction of a second, as he opened his arms to the sky, you saw him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. And his eyes burned in your skin, they made you feel like your chest was aflame.

The communion time arrived, and he turned to you as you grabbed the chalice with the wine, his eyes locked with yours and you felt them weigh heavy on your body.

Dave couldn't concentrate, he felt on his side the way you were looking at him. It was heavily distracting for him to have you there, in his space, so close to him.

His hands brushed yours when he took the chalice from you and he stood there for less than a second, his fingers on yours. His soft touch and warm skin made your lips tremble with the emotion that touching him gave you. You felt a shiver go up and down your spine and the small hairs of your nape rose as his hands trapped yours.

You caught your lip between your teeth as he broke the contact and you knew he noticed; he looked at your lip as you bit it, and you blushed under his and God’s gaze.

You watched him and he felt you observing him as he prepared the wafers and wined them inside the chalice.

Your throat knotted when he lifted the cup to the sky and you felt your mouth dry as he brought the rim to his lip and his neck strained while he took a sip of the sacramental wine.

Because of the closeness you could see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the wine, you noticed a small drop of the crimson red liquid escape from his lips and the way he trapped it with his tongue settled deep inside your belly and leaked through your sex.

The pain of the greatest guilt you’ve ever felt in your short life appeared again and clawed its way inside your chest and to its now usual spot right next to your heart, you were struggling to keep your thoughts at bay; you were looking at Father Dave, right in front of you, doing what he dedicated his life to, and you were imagining him using his hands on your body instead of handling the instruments of the church.

Would he touch you like that? would he treat you with the same delicacy as he treated the body of Christ? would he caress you as softly as he did the chalice? would his mouth be warmed with your taste as it was by the wine he drank?

Dave turned to you and he saw you clutching your hands together, you walked towards him slowly, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you moved, almost as if air went through you, as if instead of giving steps your feet barely touched the floor because you were floating.

Everything slowed down, the music of the organ in the balcony, the prayers of the congregation, even the way he moved slowed down so he could focus on your face; on your sweet eyes, those that had brought into him the feeling of humanity, on your soft skin that had scorched his hand when he dared brushed his fingers on it, on your lips, those lips that he couldn’t pray out of his head.

He lifted his hand with the wined wafer, and even the way those holy lips of yours parted was slowed down.

Your eyes connected with his and Dave felt it in his body, deep inside his stomach, the temptation, the whispers of his mortal body as it reacted to your actions; he put the wafer between your lips delicately and pushed it inside your mouth, and then, as if by the grace of God in the heavens, you closed your mouth while he did it, and your lips wrapped softly around the pad of his finger as he pulled them away from you.

And just like that, the world started moving at its usual pace.

His skin tasted sweet. And you spent the rest of the service thinking about what other parts of him would taste like that.

Would his neck taste the same if you kissed it? would his chest feel like that if you nibbled on it? would his lips be that warm or would they be warmer?

Dave’s finger was burning.

He wanted to chop it off his hand just to stop feeling that flesh-eating guilt of enjoying your lips, your soft, warm lips around it, touching his skin, wetting it with the slick of your mouth.

After the service ended and Dave blessed the congregation, he saw you rush to the exit and he felt the sting of the guilt and the sadness. He wanted to talk to you and offer his apologies before you went home.

Sunday 4.

You weren’t there.

And Dave missed your eyes on him.

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”–Romans 12:1.

Sunday 5.

As soon as you walked into the church you felt the eyes of all omnipresent beings on your body. As if the desire that burned deep inside your body left marks all over your skin, that could be visible for all those that looked carefully enough.

You heard your name behind you and jumped slightly, startled. You turned around and felt your blood fall to your feet.

“Father Dave,” you muttered, more to help yourself acknowledge the fact that there he was, standing in front of you, out of habit, his white tab collar was the only piece of his attire that hinted the fact that he was a priest. You tried to control your body as you felt instantly that flame inside your chest beginning to spread.

“You weren’t here last week,” he said, hesitating to step closer to you “are you okay?”

You nodded a few times and bit your lip to stop it from trembling.

“Are you sure?” Father Dave asked, and you dropped your eyes to the floor and saw him give a couple of steps towards you, your breath hitched and your entire body began to shiver when you felt his hand on your arm “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“What?” you looked up to see him and you could notice his pained quirk, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and his lips… those lips you had spent all but two weeks imagining printing themselves and making marks on your skin, on a sad, downwards line.

“Can I please talk to you?” he said again in a whisper and you opened your mouth to reply, but only air came out, “please?”

His deep brown eyes were on yours and you felt your chest turn by the feeling of having him so close. You nodded, and he turned to the sides, as if he was making sure there was no one there, and guided you to the sacristy.

“What are you doing?” you asked, a bit altered when he opened the door and let you in first, followed you and closed the door behind him.

“I just needed to be alone with you for a minute,” he clarified, you let your eyes wander around the small space where he got ready every day for the services instead of letting them settle on him, because you knew being that close to him wouldn’t help your situation at all “I wanted to apologize.”

You frowned and looked at him. He had his back almost glued to the door and his hands together, his thumbs fidgeting with each other.

“Apologize for what?” you muttered, and he sighed.

“I’m–I make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.”

Dave felt stupid telling you that, but it was his truth; he spent every free moment of his days when you weren’t near him thinking maybe it was because of him. It would make sense, that you didn’t want to be there because you didn’t like his closeness, that you didn’t want to be there because he was taking advantage of his position to steal glances and give furtive touches.

He understood, but you were an excellent woman, devoted and committed to the congregation, and he knew he needed to stop or you would leave and he would never see you again. And he couldn’t have that.

“You aren–you…” you babbled, and then the look he gave you made you lose your words.

His eyes were all over you. And you could feel them on your skin, how they took you in, how they navigated through your body and every inch of you was immediately on fire.

Then he looked at your face and you swore you could see in his brown eyes the deepest form of devotion there was. And your mouth was agape and your eyes filled with tears and suddenly he was in front of you and his hands were orbiting your face.

“Can I touch you?” he said, and you nodded.

He cupped your face, and you felt his warm, rough hands scorching your skin as you closed your eyes. His warmth started mixing with your own and you could feel him inside you already. It was as if everything you needed in life was already there.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you whispered, closing your eyes as his fingers started caressing the skin of your face, tracing your features “I swear you don’t”

Dave let out a sigh when his thumb traced the edge of your lips and he so wanted to lean down and take them in his. There had been so long since he last kissed someone and he, for a split second, forgot everything about him and the only thought in his mind was you.

“I don’t?” he asked under his breath as a tear rolled down your cheek and he brushed it off with his knuckles, you shook your head and opened your eyes and he felt his heart fill with the purest love he had ever felt in his life “you swear?” you curled your lips up and nodded twice.

“Can I tell you something?” you muttered, looking up at him and losing yourself in the depths of his brown eyes.

“Always.”

You allowed your hands to slide to his shoulders and you let out a relieved sigh. They fit perfectly.

“Yo–you are…” he nodded his chin, his hands still cupping your face softly as his eyes studied your face, you let out a trembling sigh and grabbed as much courage as you had left within you “you are the man I’ve been thinking of all this time.”

Dave widened his eyes and the movements of his hands stopped, he looked at you, searching for any hint of mischief or lie, searching for something that could tell him you were lying, that you were playing with him. But there was none.

“That’s why I wasn’t here last week,” he heard you say as he felt his heart burn with the flames of his desire and love “I was embarrassed after what happened at the communion.”

You looked at him for a second, waiting for the rejection, waiting for him to tell you what you already know, that he can’t for you what you wanted him to be, that he can’t give you what you wanted as his duty was with God and not with the mortals, let alone with a woman.

Father Dave had resigned to the pleasures of the mundane world; you knew that, but you also knew he deserved to know, even if nothing would happen.

“Am I?” he asked you, bewildered after such confession, you nodded and moved your hands to cup his face, a gesture that made him close his eyes. You wondered when was the last time, if ever, he had been touched like that “we can’t” he replied, opening his eyes and leaning in to you.

You could feel his breathing mixing with yours as the implications of his words fell on you.

“We can’t” he repeated, pushing his forehead to yours as you trembled under his touch.

“You want to?” you asked him and Dave asked for guidance in his mind as you started crying and wetting his hands. He nodded, and you sobbed.

“I can’t” he whispered, and you shook your head as he looked at you pouring your feelings from your eyes.

“Kiss me.” you pleaded, looking into his brown, deep eyes. Making him frown.

“What?”

“If you’re not gonna give me anything, at least kiss me.”

His face quirked from confusion to pain in an instant, and you gripped the hold on his face.

“Please, Dave.”

Dave sighed at the way you whispered his name without calling him a father, and deep inside him he was grateful. With you he didn’t feel like a man of god, with you, letting him touch you and touching him back, he only felt like a man. Like the man he never got the chance to be.

“I–I” he started, and you shook your head. Dave looked into your eyes and all the air he had stored in his lungs left his body in a hurry, you were the most precious being he had ever seen, and for a second, he wanted nothing but to make worth the fact he had you in his hands “shit.” he said under his breath.

Dave brought your face up to him and printed his lips on yours, stealing the little air and the close to no coherence you still had in you. You let out a soft moan out of the surprise and out of the feeling of your entire body warming up to his temperature.

His lips were as soft and as wars and better than you had imagined, they were a bit dry and hesitant on yours, but the contact of them with yours made you feel like you were floating away from the realm of the living.

Dave didn’t want to stop kissing you. He didn’t remember the last time he had kissed a woman, and in that moment he wasn’t kissing any woman he was kissing you; the precious being that had been in his mind for weeks and that had never left.

Unsure of his movements, he let you take control of the contact and soon enough you were sliding the tip of your tongue along the seam of his lips, Dave let out a surprised grunt and opened his mouth slightly of you, and you took his lower lip with your mouth. And he let you kiss him all you wanted, enjoying the contact of your slow, wet, warm lips on his less experienced ones until he was sure his lungs were screaming from the lack of air.

When he broke the kiss, he left a small one on your forehead and pressed his lips there and you closed your eyes to feel him settle inside you

“I’m sorry.” you whispered to his neck. And he nodded slightly.

“Me too.”

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”–Matthew 5:28.

Sunday 6.

Your knuckles grazed softly with the sacristy door and you heard the muffled noise of the latch and the door opened.

“Hi,” you smiled and Dave looked at you up and down “got your text.”

“Come in.” he motioned his hand for you to hurry and you turned your head to both sides and walked into the sacristy, closed the door behind you and slid the latch.

Immediately after the door was locked, you felt his hands on your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

“This is why you texted me?” you teased and he moved to let a kiss on your jaw.

“I missed you.” he muttered and turned your body around for you to face him.

“You didn’t.” you smiled at him and wrapped your hands around his neck, grateful for the apparently deliberate choice of him to take off his tab collar.

“Yes, I did, I missed you all day.” Dave leaned towards you and took your lips in his, already knowing, after less than a week’s practice, how you loved being kissed.

His lips were as warm as they always were, his tongue barely present if not just to taste the sweetness of your lipstick, his hands always steady on your waist, and at the end, his forehead on yours, just taking in your breaths with his.

“Mass starts soon.” you said, and he nodded, sliding his hands to your middle back to wrap you closer to him.

“I know.” he left another brief kiss on your lips.

“You gotta get dressed.” you murmured against his lips.

“I know.” he muttered back and kissed you again.

“Want me to help?” you asked under your breath, just for him, as if you saying it as low as you could would stop God from listening.

“Yes, I would love that.” Dave replied and gave into another deep kiss that stole both your breath and made you want to stop the time so you could kiss until your lips fused together.

“C’mon you need to get ready.” you broke the kiss and stepped away from him, making him smile. You wandered around the sacristy and found his tab collar. You sighed and took it in your hands.

Dave looked at you and noticed the way you looked at the soft plastic piece, he walked towards you and raised his hand to grab yours. As you felt his hand on yours; you turned your head to look at him and smiled softly, and you moved your hands, raising them to carefully lift the collar of his shirt and clasp the piece around his neck.

“You okay?” he asked in a whisper, you nodded and bit your lip at the sight of him in front of you.

Dave moved and walked to the small table against a wall with a large bowl of water and you gazed at him as he washed his hands and whispered a few words. You leaned onto the wall just looking at him go to a small cabinet near the opposite corner and took a white, folded linen garment, which he unfolded and you recognized as the long robe he used under all his attire.

He slid it off and whispered another prayer again as he let it fall and graze his ankles. His eyes went to you and you smiled at him, he next grabbed a green square that you also recognized and you walked to him and took it out of his hands.

“Let me do it” you whispered, and he nodded, you unfolded the long stripe that was the stole and found its middle, Dave crouched a bit to help you and you let it fall around his neck over his shoulders.

“Return to me the stole of immortality,” he whispered, looking at your eyes, your throat dried at the deepness of his voice “which I have lost in the sin of my first parent and although I, unworthy,” he continued and took your hand in his “approach thy sacred mystery grant to me everlasting joy.”

You gripped his hands and felt your throat knotting around itself.

“Why are you praying to me?” you asked under your breath. He cupped your chin with one hand and brought you close to his face.

“You’re holy.” he whispered and left a soft kiss on your lips.

“Stop it.” you chastised him and he shook his head, giving you a soft smile that you reciprocated immediately.

You turned to the table and saw a long, golden cord and you took it.

“Not that one.” he muttered, and you frowned.

“Why not?” you saw him taking a deep breath as he took it from your hand and left it back on the table.

“The cincture… it means chastity and continence.” he replied under his breath and you let out all the air of your lungs as he took his chasuble and put it on without looking at you.

“Dave.” you called, and he lifted a hand to you as he said the last prayer. When he finished, he looked at you and as if he read your mind, he smiled at you and shook his head.

“Don’t,” he whispered, taking you again in his hands and pulling softly so your head rested on his shoulders “don’t apologize please.”

“I need to,” you mumbled against the light fabric of the green chasuble “I’m keeping you from your vow.”

Dave grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from his body, his hands slid to your face and you gripped his wrists as he brought your face to his.

“You’re not doing anything, my love,” he muttered the last words directly on your lips as he stole a few kisses from your trembling mouth “you’re perfect,” he panted out and you shook your head “I’m doing this because I want to, please understand it,” he kissed you again, a bit more desperately “you’re the most divine creation I’ve ever laid my eyes and hands upon,” he whispered rapidly on your lips “and I want you to be mine.”

You gasped as the words left his mouth, and he gazed at you.

“Dave...” you started, but he didn’t let you finish, he wrapped his arms around you and brought your body to his, tightening the embrace as he thought of the implications of what he just asked.

Dave lifted his eyes to the ceiling and for the first time in years, with you slowly wrapping your arms around his waist, exactly over the place the cincture was supposed to go around, and the sweet aroma of your perfume inundating his senses, he felt really close to heaven.

“I want you to be mine too.” you whispered into his ear, and he smiled, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

“How beautiful and pleasant you are, O loved one, with all your delights!”–Song of Solomon 7:6.

Sunday 7.

You stirred on your seat again, the organ was playing the latest song before Dave would bless the congregation and wrap up the service and you were nervous.

You glanced at the crucified Jesus above him and you felt his eyes on yours; you felt him shove his holy hand on your chest and as the last notes of the song inundated the navel, you felt your throat sting with the green tint of your deep guilt, but at the same time, the rest of your body drown with the red warmth of your love and desire for Dave.

Is it worth it? you heard inside your head and your immediate response was yes.

Eternal damnation in exchange for a few hours of love. It was condemnedly worth it.

The service was over and you stood up with the rest of the congregation; you talked with a few people on your way out of the church and slowly and patiently you waited for everyone to disperse.

You walked around the gardens outside the church and slid between the gate that marked the beginning of Dave’s small house inside the church grounds. You rummaged around your small bag and pulled out the key he had given you earlier and with nervousness and the familiar guilt settled next to your heart; you let yourself into his house.

You turned on the lights. The space wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small and everything around smelled like him. For a priest’s home, the place lacked religious imagery, and you automatically chastised yourself for thinking about his priesthood again.

You sat on the loveseat next to the door as you waited for him and got dragged inside your head again; you talked about doing that throughout the week and you had agreed it was something you both wanted. But your head sent you through an unwanted train of thought and you sat there, thinking about the future. Something you hadn’t talked about.

After all, he would still be a priest and you would still be a young member of his congregation. You could spend time with him and let you love him and let him love you as much as you two wanted, but in the future… what else was there for you?

You could never ask him to leave his habit for you, you could never ask him to leave his life for you, you could never do something like that to him. But you were unsure if something like that had any other path but failure.

The door opened and there he was, unclasping his tab collar and dropping it on the end table as you rose from your seat and walked to him. He smiled at you and his hands found his place on your waist.

“You’re here.” he said, not surprised but relieved.

As he took off his attire in the sacristy and walked to his house from the church, he had a few minutes to think about what he was about to do. He didn’t allow himself to overthink it because if there was something he knew was that he wanted it; he wanted it more than he had wanted anything in his life. He couldn’t explain it even if he tried, but he knew there was something about you that made him feel human, there was something about you that made him feel like he belonged somewhere, maybe the way you talked to him, maybe the way you kissed him, maybe the way you always seemed to understand the moral and spiritual dilemma he was in. He didn’t know, but he knew that he loved you, even if he wasn’t supposed to, even when he wasn’t allowed.

And as he thought of it, love was one of the laws of the God he represented, and he felt it deeply.

“I’m here.” he pulled you to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded.

“Thank you.” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, shaking your head at him.

You felt his lips on yours as they re-discovered your kisses and his hands roamed to your middle back to press your chest to his.

You were amazed by how fast he had learned how you liked to be touched, how you liked to be kissed and caressed, as if he was just trying to commit to memory everything you ever wanted and he wanted to do it to you to please you.

Dave slid his hands from your back down to your hips and moved you softly to the side, without breaking the kiss he snaked his hands to the back of your thighs and lifted you. You smiled in his mouth and wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked to his bedroom.

When you crossed the doorframe you started leaving small kisses on the skin of his neck and he sat on the edge of his bed with you in his lap, you were already feeling the hardness growing inside his pants and his hands started grazing up and down your thighs as he let you taste his neck how you best pleased.

Dave was in a haze. He understood then the power of physical touch combined with deep love; it enhanced the sensations, the flame inside his chest was burning him from the inside out with a deep desire he was sure he had never felt before, and you were there, moving slowly on his lap as you devoured the skin of his neck and kissed slowly around his jaw.

“Dave,” you whispered as you licked his earlobe and pulled out a shiver from him, he hummed in question “touch me.”

He didn’t hesitate on questioning where, his hands roamed all around your body, they were big and warm and they were rough; you cupped his jaw with both hands and took his lips in yours with a wet, open-mouthed kiss that he followed as his hands snuck inside your shirt and you moaned softly at the feeling of skin to skin.

You moved out of his lap and stood up in front of him, Dave let out a soft whine at the sudden loss of your weight on his body but stopped when you moved his legs open and stood between them.

“Take off my shirt, please.” you told him, not in an order but he obeyed, he grabbed the hem of it and lifted it, you raised your arms and felt his lips on your rib side as you finished taking it off and dropped it on the floor behind you.

Dave put his hands around your torso and licked your skin experimentally, which made you gasp at the feeling of his wet tongue against your skin and he smiled to himself, doing it again and nibbling on the same spot softly.

His hands slid to your waist and without being told to he unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down slowly, his eyes directly on yours. You smiled at him with your reddened, kiss-swollen lips and he felt your smile settling inside his lower belly, his cock twitching inside his pants.

You put your hands on his shoulders as he helped you out of your shoes and jeans and when you were there, standing in front of him only in your underwear, he swore there wasn’t anything more divine than your body.

You sank on your knees and your hands landed on his thighs, Dave’s throat clutched and his chest turned as you smiled at him and your hands slid to his belt, you raised your eyebrows as if asking for permission and he nodded a few times, leaning backward into his hands to give you space for you to do whatever you wanted to him.

You unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, his breath hitched when your fingers hooked to the hem of both his pants and his boxers, and then he lifted his hips for you to pull them off him. Dave smiled when he saw you bite your lip at the sight of his hard cock resting on his abdomen. It did something unexpected on what he thought was his dead ego, but he loved the way you looked at it.

“Take off your shirt.” you said and again, without it being an order, he obeyed. Unbuttoned it as quickly as he could and slid it off his shoulders as you leaned over his lap and took his erection on your hand, your thumb grazing softly the tip and he threw his head back between his shoulders.

“Oh, my love.” he sighed out as you started pumping slowly and when he closed his eyes, you licked the underside and wrapped your lips around the tip, making him gasp.

You took it slowly, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum as it came out of him, pumping the rest you couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

Dave forced his eyes open and moved his head down to watch you, he shivered when he found you already looking at him; he moved his hand to your face and with his knuckles caressed your cheek, making you smile with his cock inside your mouth.

For him, looking at you on your knees between his legs was like looking at a sacrosanct painting; your lips around him taking as much of his length as you could, your saliva dripping from his dick to your hand, bobbing your head up and down as your eyes, those holy eyes that never left his, it was a pleasure he never thought he would get in his earthly life.

He felt himself close to cumming, and he pushed your head softly upwards, you rose from your knees and clashed your messy lips onto his and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands roaming around the skin of your back. His fingers played with the back of your bra and he broke the kiss for a few seconds to unhook it and help you slide it off, you smiled when he sighed at the sight of your breasts in front of his face and he pulled you flush against his head, taking a nipple in his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue around the soft skin of your nipple made you cry out his name softly and arousal gathered between your legs. One of his hands rested on your other boob and kneaded delicately as you fisted his hair in your hand. Dave moved his mouth to your other nipple and lapped at it before trapping it inside his mouth, you pressed his head to your chest and let out a moan when his teeth grazed your nipple as he released it.

“I wanna taste you.” he muttered against your boob and you smiled at him, nodding.

He moved you softly to lie down on the bed; the sheets were cool and soft and he stood on the edge, taking you in again, studying your body.

He leaned down to you and you opened your legs to make space for him; he hovered over your body and kissed you again, softly, as if you were back in time to the first kiss he gave you in the sacristy, as if he wasn’t about to devour your body.

His kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and your chest, he left one in each nipple, making you laugh, he left a trail of them over your belly and one over your belly button. As he kissed your abdomen and your thighs, you looked at the ceiling and you smiled at whoever was watching.

Dave took the hem of your panties on his fingers and you lifted your hips for him to slip them off you, you lifted your legs and he unhooked them from your ankles, grabbing your calves and opening your legs again. He gulped when he saw your wet, expectant pussy right in front of him and looked at your flushed face. He leaned down and left kisses around your thighs without breaking eye contact.

“Guide me.” he whispered and left a kiss right over the hood of your clit, making you moan.

You nodded once, and he looked at your pussy, opened the lips gently with his fingers and blew on your slick folds, making you shiver. He flattened his tongue and licked from your slit to your clit, tasting your arousal, moaning at the richness of it.

You slid your hand to your clit and looked at him.

“Here.” you mumbled, circling a few times to show him how. He had told you he had sex before his ordination, because he didn’t want to go into his holy orders without having experienced it and wondering for the rest of his life what he had missed, but he said it wasn’t as good as he thought it would be and before you, he thought he would never know. So you had to show him what you wanted and what you liked because his experience wasn’t vast.

Dave did as you showed and you moaned out loud, the pads of his fingers were warmer and bigger than yours and he was handling you so delicately you were already on edge.

He kept licking and circling your clit and then, without a second thought, he moved his fingers away and started circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh m–my god,” you fisted his hair, pushing his face into your pussy and he pressed your hips onto the mattress, looking at your face with your mouth opened in pleasure and your eyes closed shut “Dave ke–keep doing that baby,” you pleaded and he did it, and started playing the pad of one of his fingers on your slit, making your hips buck slightly he saw you pant and smiled when you slid your free hand to play with your nipple so he added a second one to play with your entrance “inside, put them inside.” you said under your breath and he pushed his fingers slowly inside your cunt, making you let out a long moan of his name, he started pumping and curling his fingers inside as he had imagined you doing it all those weeks ago while touching himself in the shower and closed his eyes to hear you moan his name as he brought you closer and closer to pleasure.

He moved his fingers faster inside of you and hand fisted and pulled his hair as your moans became tamed screams and he thought of them as the most pious symphony that he and only him had the sacred pleasure to hear.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulders as you felt the knot inside your belly explode from his ministrations and you chanted his name over and over as he worked you through your orgasm. You panted for a few seconds and opened your eyes to the sight of Dave licking his fingers clean. You smiled at him and released his hair to motion him to come to you; he hovered over your body again and you put your hand on his nape to bring him to you; you moaned softly at your own taste and you felt it smile on your lips.

“What?” you asked in a whisper.

“Did you like it?” he asked back on your lips, you nodded and cupped his clean-shaven jaw, leaving a deep kiss on his lips.

“I loved it,” he smiled, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and felt his cock brushing lightly against your folds. “make love to me, Dave.”

You saw his smile widen, and it was his turn to nod to you, he kissed you again while his hand worked on aligning himself to you; he slid the tip through your folds and you gasped on his mouth when he found your entrance and started pushing in.

He did it slowly, no rush; he wanted to feel you in every inch of his cock; he wanted you to feel him and every ridge and vein of him as he found his home in you.

You nipped at his lip as he bottomed up and smiled when he stayed there, inside you, enjoying the wait for your body to acclimate to his, you looked into his eyes and you felt it.

You felt how you two fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

As if his body was made for you and your body was made for him.

It felt right.

It felt sacred.

Dave started moving at a calmed pace and you with him, quickly finding a rhythm where your hips moved almost in unison and he thrusted into you deeply every time he moved. He was supporting his weight on one arm next to you while the other gripped your hip and helped you with the tantalizing dance you both were having.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck when your hands moved to his back and you pulled his body down to yours, his chest gliding yours and his hips circling as he thrusted faster into you.

Dave moaned into your neck when you scratched his back as his thrusts became pounds.

“Harder, please, baby, harder.” you whispered into his ear and he listened, driving into you as fast as his body allowed, the noise of his skin clashing with yours and the wetness of you leaking around his cock flooded the room and his moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his skin chanting his name as you got closer and closer to your second release.

“Yo–you’re a goddess,” he muttered into the skin of your neck as his cock grazed your cervix, his hand wrapped around your hips and he lifted your ass for him to thrust deeper, making you moan his name loudly “you’re m–my go–goddess.”

You slid your hands to his ass and fisted his buttcheeks, pushing him further into you.

Dave felt his orgasm closer and closer every time he drove into you and your warm walls started to clench around him with the closeness of your orgasm, he nibbled the skin of your neck and clutched his eyes shut tighter when his body started to stiffen as he pounded into you; he muttered your name a few times like a prayer he never knew he needed to make, and it sounded right, your name in his voice as he drove himself and you to climax, his own name on your sweet voice as you begged him for everything he had in himself, it was all right, it was all correct, there was nothing wrong, how could he had felt so guilty about it when it was the most perfect, most righteous, most sacred, most heavenly action he could do.

You in his arms, your hands on his body, his cock inside your cunt, you wrapped around him begging him to cum inside you, everything about it was all he could have asked for to feel like he was in heaven. He had almost said no to feel it, and he bursted inside you at the same time as you broke in pieces around him, thinking that he would rather live his life with you around him than his afterlife in heaven.

“I love you.” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you opened your eyes after riding the high of your orgasm and looked at the ceiling.

You frowned when you heard his words and when you remembered what he said to you before he came, and as you turned to the side to see him that red warmth you had felt earlier disappeared almost completely and the bright green taint of the deep guilt inside you washed over your body and your soul.

He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. His expression changed as he realized you weren’t going to answer his confession.

“Dave,” you whispered and his face changed, his brow furrowed and you saw his jaw tighten “what did we just do?”

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless @northernpunk @pascalesque @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @bii-aan-ckaa @letaliabane @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorianalso @supernaturalgirl @metalarmsandmanbuns @purplepascal042 @asta-lily @greeneyedblondie44 @missswriter @pedro-pastel

Dave York pit neighbors: @pascalslittlebrat @mypedrom @mothandpidgeon @rebelliouscat @hnt-escape @maharani-radha @hylliamoon

#dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york pit #dave york the equalizer #the equalizer #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer fanfic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters #priest dave york

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lululawrence · 3 years

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Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

#long post #rant #i almost deleted this #but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose #this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY #or don't #whatever #writing stuff #i should tag it #writing SHIT #but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives #not me

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calltomuster · 3 years

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Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]

Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!

And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.

Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!

Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!

Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!

Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.

Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.

Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.

brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.

The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

#star wars #fic recs #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #commander cody #qui-gon jinn #commander rex #jedi order #sw tcw

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

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Assumptions

10/01/2021

Pairing: Manuel Neuer x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 6,018

Warnings: rpf, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Manu and nothing illegal) and strong opinions on that, banter, jealousy, infuriation, fluff and cuteness

Summary: The reader finally catches her long time crush Manuel Neuer alone on her uncle's birthday. Things are quickly starting to get heated—sadly it's not the kind of heated she would have liked it to be.

A/N: Most of you probably don't know Manuel Neuer. He is the goalkeeper and captain of Bayern Munich as well as the German National Football Team and every once in a while I find my thoughts drifting towards that adorable and amazingly talented manchild. This story has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I wasn't sure whether I felt comfortable with publishing it in case it ever got finished. But I found that there is an intolerable lack of Manuel Neuer x reader fics on here, so here it is. I tagged everyone from my general tag list, but I understand if this is not what you signed up for. So sorry in advance and please feel free to ignore this story at your leisure.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

It was only a few minutes to midnight and still the dance floor was as filled as ever, an enchanting mixture of young and old people alike. The bass rolled deep in his stomach, making him even queasier than he already was, and the lights, flickering across the mass of moving bodies in sync to the rhythm of the music, didn’t help either.

Suddenly a figure broke through the outer wall of bodies and made her way over to his table. A small smile crawled over her lips, a little shy but genuine, yet he didn’t feel like returning it. He had hoped that she would change her mind upon the disgruntled look on his face, but much to his dismay, she did nothing of the sort and sat down right next to him, just as a waitress passed the table with a tray of colourful shots. The woman next to him stopped her, before she turned to him.

“Care for a drink?”

Did he care for a drink? He yearned for one.

“No, thanks. I’m not really fond of drinking.”

“Shame,” she shrugged, her smile growing a bit wider when she took two shots from the tray anyway. For a second he thought she might actually force him to drink with her, but then she placed down the two glasses in front of herself. Raising her first glass to him, she gulped it down in one swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards.

“Do you care for a dance then?” She nodded over to the dance floor, her eyes and body inviting him to take the offer.

He found that he somehow couldn’t hold her gaze when he answered, “I’m afraid I’m also not very fond of dancing.”

Her forearms resting on the table, she leaned closer, obviously not taking the hint that he just wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Then what are you fond of?”

“I think you know pretty well what I’m fond of.” To his own surprise he sounded even harsher than he had attempted to, but the last thing he needed right now was an eager fan trying to engage him in a conversation.

“I do,” she retorted undeterred, “but that’s not what I wanted to know. See, you might not have noticed through all your sulking, but I was actually interested in you as a person, not as a footballer.”

He huffed, although he wasn’t sure she had heard him above the music.

“And you might have noticed that I am not interested in talking about private stuff to complete strangers.”

Sure, he was being massively impolite, but at least he hoped that this would do the trick now. But instead of finally leaving him alone, she shot him an amused look.

“Ooooh, grumpy, aren’t we?”

Now it was him who leaned in closer, making sure she could hear him properly. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay? I just...it wasn’t such a great evening for me.”

Unintentionally his eyes wandered over to the dance floor for a split second, where a very young, very blonde girl was dancing happily among his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. Cursing himself, he looked over to the woman by his side carefully, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But of course she had, her eyes still fixed on the girl.

“Ah, I see.” She turned to him and the glint in her eyes made his stomach turn. “Puberty is a bitch, eh?”

“Excuse me?” he spat, equal parts bewildered and stunned.

“You heard me alright.”

Who did she think she was? Impertinent woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The volume of his voice must have slipped his control a little, as he noticed a group of elderly men standing nearby turn into his direction. Still the woman’s smile never left her face, appeasing the men who turned away again.

“Really? After all I have to sit here with a pissed thirty something man who refuses to acknowledge he let his hormones get the best of him.”

“Whoa! Okay, first of all, it was you who decided to come and sit at this table and second, again, none of your goddamn business.”

Her answer was a simple grin, still not fazed by his anger in the slightest. It almost felt as if she was enjoying to get him riled up.

“You’re right.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

He rolled his eyes heavily. Why couldn’t she just leave?

“You know, that phrase usually goes with an apology. Like ‘You’re right. Sorry I assumed you’re having a mid-life crisis and bang a chick that is 15 years your junior to boost your fragile ego.’”

“Do you?”

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself a little. After all, he couldn’t afford to yell at her again, not that he didn’t want to, but causing even more unwanted attention was not in his plans for tonight.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well actually,” she looked at him triumphantly, “you kind of did. I never said you were having a midlife crisis or that you need her to boost your ego. Those were your words. And seeing that my assumptions caused a reaction like that, I’m afraid I can’t really say I’m sorry either.”

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

“Look, I think I have an assumption for you too, lady. I’m starting to assume that you only came over here to rile me up further. And guess what, mission completed. So why don’t you do us both a favour and head off to pester someone else now?”

She was quiet for a moment and for the first time, the cheeky smile left her beautiful, burgundy lips. He had expected her to be a bit shaken at least, maybe even as pissed as himself, and yet the next words were spoken with such dignity that he couldn’t help but admire her a little for it.

“Oh, I would love to say you’re right again, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. And since we seem to have warmed up to each other quite a bit by now, I feel it’s okay to be completely honest with you.” She paused a second, simply for the effect, he guessed and her warm eyes never left his. “I came to sit with you because you looked miserable. Still do, by the way. And I thought you might need an actual grown up to talk to. But it seems I was wrong. You’re just a pouty manchild, like the rest of them.”

She waved her arm, pointing over at the dancing crowd of his friends and their spouses. His eyes followed her gesture and when he laid eyes on the heart of the matter, a hot flush of rage began to swirl through his veins, making his hands clench into fists. Fully set on giving her a piece of his mind, not caring who might hear him at this point, he turned to her again. But the familiar figure that had somehow entered the picture without his notice made him stop in his tracks.

“Here you are, sweetie.” The man cooed, laying his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I almost got the feeling you were hiding from me since I made you promise to dance with me tonight.”

She twisted her slender neck to look up at his gentle face, her attention making him smile sweetly at her.

“You know I’d never do that to you, Uncle Hans, especially not on your birthday. I just thought your no. 1 goalkeeper here was in need of some mature company, but clearly he is perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Bewilderment flickered behind the coach’s gaze as he looked between his niece and one of his best players and Manuel was sure that this might not be the last time they would speak about this matter.

“So then, may I have that dance now, sweetheart?”

“With pleasure.” Manuel watched almost transfixed as she gracefully took her uncle’s hand and stood up. It was only now that he noticed how perfectly her dress showed off her voluptuous curves. He was almost certain that she would leave without another word when once again she proved him wrong. Turning on her heels, she grabbed the remaining shot and gulped it down in one large swig before she looked down at him, almost as regal as a queen.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Neuer. I’m sorry I can’t say I enjoyed our conversation more. Oh, and just in case you should ever feel in need to talk to a grown up, don’t call.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She could still feel his piercing look on her back as Hansi led her through the crowd and away from him. They had just begun to dance when the song changed and a much slower tune echoed through the large room. With a smug grin, her uncle pulled her closer, bringing his hand to the small of her back. Cheek to cheek he swayed her to the beat and she could feel that her mind was almost beginning to slow down, when he decided to pick up a conversation.

“Will you tell me what that was all about?”

She bit her lip like a little girl that was about to be scolded. “Do I have to?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibration rumbling against her chest and she could easily imagine the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m certainly not going to force you. It’s just, you know, I always thought you kind of liked him.”

Instantly, she could feel her face heat up. How could he possibly know that?

“True. Liked, as in past tense. And besides, it’s not that I actually know him, personally, I mean. You could perhaps say I admire his talent, at most. And he also may be kind of easy on the eyes.”

She had become more and more quiet while she spoke, merely mumbling the last sentence. But he had heard her nonetheless, her silliness making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Hm. I clearly remember your aunt begging me to invite him over for a barbecue party last summer, telling me that you wouldn’t shut up about his quiet reserve, his amazing performance on the field and his stunning smile. Sadly he didn’t have time.”

She gulped audibly, tensing up a little in his arms, which made him enjoy their little talk even more. “So, what changed your mind?”

“He did,” she said a little too quickly, before she sighed so heavily that her uncle almost regretted bringing this topic up after all. “It’s just, I don’t understand his choice in women. I mean, he could choose literally anyone, so why her? I mean, she clearly doesn’t make him happy.”

“And how do you know that? You have spoken to him for what? Like five minutes?” He turned them around, making her face the gloomy goalie once more, before he went on. “I might be wrong, sweetheart, but I think you’re just jealous.”

Over his shoulder her gaze met Manuel’s for a split second before his eyes shot to his right, where the blonde teenager stepped into the picture, blocking him from view. She sat down on his lap, her arms dragging around his neck possessively, as her lips met his in a feverish kiss. Averting her gaze immediately, her eyes darkened and her heart clenched heavily in her chest.

“If by jealous you mean disenchanted, you’re right.”

Her bitter words made him loosen his grip on her so that he could see her face, and the hurt in her eyes pained him more than he cared for.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but he really is a good person.”

She scoffed while her incredulous eyes landed on her uncle’s soft, blue orbs. “Well, he certainly hid that pretty well.”

He gave her a tight lipped smile. “I think he’s just lost his way a little at the moment.”

“So you think I’m right then?”

The excited sparkle in her eyes made him regret his honest words a little.

“I didn’t say that.” He protested strongly. In the end it was not for him to judge his players’ private lives. “After all he is a grown man and he can decide for himself.” He could see her face fall again and so he was quick to add, “Nevertheless, I don’t think you’re completely wrong either.”

He was very pleased to see that his words had caused a small smile to crawl back to her pretty lips. He almost felt like a proud father and when she finally leaned back in a bit closer, her forgiving gesture almost made him a bit bold.

“So, uhm, one more question, sweetheart. In the unlikely event that he should after all need a grown woman to talk to, can I give him your number?”

“Certainly not,” she insisted with a steady voice, but when she looked at him, the adorable grin on her face left no doubt that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Manuel was furious as he watched her leave towards the dance floor with the coach. How could she dare call him out like that and then leave without giving him the chance to set her straight? His eyes fixed on her, he watched as Flick pulled her closer, his eyes following her uncle’s hand to the small of her back. Being the gentleman he was, his hand had found the only spot on her back that was actually covered by the dark red fabric of her dress. And for a second he imagined what it might actually feel like to let his hand wander upwards until it covered her bare skin. Or maybe he could let it slip down a few inches, until his fingers would grasp the soft flesh of her behind. He had just been able to fully picture the exact feeling of her body pressed up to his when he could feel the man who actually held her in his arms catch his indecent look on his niece’s back. Immediately he sat up straight, averting his gaze, completely missing the amused smile on the other man’s face, and when he turned back to face him, he almost lost it when he found her sparkling eyes instead.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hey, babe.” The high pitched noise made him flinch and instinctively his eyes shot to his right, just in time to pull his arms away before she slumped down onto his lap clumsily. She laid it on thickly as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you on the dance floor, honey bun. Why don’t you come dance with me?”

And before he even had the chance to answer, her lips crashed down on his mouth almost painfully, her tongue forcing his lips to open. The stench of alcohol filled his mouth and he pushed her drunken form off of him determinedly. Before she even had the chance to protest, he lifted her up and placed her in his chair.

“I don’t think dancing is a good idea in your condition.” She glared at him, but then she seemed to have forgotten what for and her lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Look, why don’t you just stay here and I get you a nice, big glass of water to sober you up a little?”

She began to nod, but then her eyes lost focus und she stared past him at god knows what.

“All right, I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Quickly he made his way over to the counter and ordered a whole bottle of water, when he felt the slap of a hand on his left shoulder.

“Wow, you look even more frustrated than after our knock out at the World Cup in 2018. What happened?”

“Don’t ask.” He sighed as he turned around to face his friend. Manuel hoped that he would accept his wish, but when he saw the apologetic look on Thomas’ face, he instantly knew that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Too late. I just did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, the next words were spoken more to himself than to his teammate.

“Great, just what I need. Another pain in my ass.”

“Another? Who was the first then?” Obviously Thomas had taken no offence and sounded a bit too cheerful for Manuel’s liking.

“She.”

He looked over at the dance floor, where the impertinent woman was just sending her uncle the most beautiful, cheeky grin he had ever seen.

“Who? Y/N?” his friend asked incredulously.

Y/N. So that was her name.

“You know that annoying woman?”

“I do, although I can’t really say she’s annoying. Met her at the coach’s home once. She seemed rather sweet and intelligent to me.”

“She certainly hid that pretty well,” Manuel growled under his breath, earning him a surprised frown from Thomas.

“Are you gonna stand here and stare daggers at her or are you gonna tell me what she did to make you throw a fit?”

“She approached me out of nowhere to tell me that I’m dating a teenager to compensate my inability to commit to a partner on eye level.”

Thomas let his words sink in for a while.

“That doesn’t really sound like her. I mean, what reason would she have to come at you like that? She doesn’t even know you.”

Manuel sighed, thinking about the way she had somehow coaxed the statements from him instead of making them herself.

“Well, she might have phrased it differently,” he admitted meekly. That seemed to spark Thomas’ interest even further and he could feel his expectant look on him, pressing him to finally tell the whole truth.

“Actually she didn’t say it like that. She only made an allusion and made me somehow say those things myself.”

“Mhm. And exactly what allusion did she make?”

Manuel rolled his eyes again, his ego still fighting to repeat her words out loud.

”She said puberty was a bitch, clearly hinting at the fact that she thought my girlfriend was too young for me.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Thomas’ roaring laughter filled the air.

“Now that does sound more like her.”

He needed a bit to contain himself when he suddenly looked up at Manuel with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“And I have to admit, Manu, she kind of has a fair point there.”

“What?”

Manuel could not believe his ears.

“Come on, man. It’s what everyone thinks. She just said it out loud.”

“Fuck you.”

But instead of rising to his expletive, Thomas just looked at him sympathetically. Pushing himself off of the counter, he pat his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him a little, ready to leave him to his self-denial.

But then he stopped. “You know, I personally didn’t have a problem with it. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. As long as you’re happy, right? But the truth is, Manu, I don’t think you are. Not anymore.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here. No need for all the panic beforehand.”

She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, shooting her a dirty look.

“Yeah, and I hope it’ll stay that way. Oh, and for the record: I wasn’t panicking at all, it was just you and your sister’s sudden eagerness to lure me here that got me suspicious and nervous in the first place.”

“We didn’t lure you here,” her other cousin piped up a little offendedly. “We simply wanted to spend some time with you. Come on, it’s been what, like 4 months now? Since you moved to Munich three years ago, we hardly get to see you anymore.”

“You and our father,” her sister added quickly. “So it seemed the best option to kill two birds with one stone and bring you along. After all it’s called a family day, right?”

Y/N sighed, not fully convinced, but finally ready to let the topic go.

“Right. Let’s just hope for your sakes that there will be no surprises today that might prove your guilt after all.”

“How are my girls doing?” she heard a familiar voice from behind her back, turning towards her favourite uncle with a beaming smile. What she didn’t see, however, was the brief look that was exchanged between her cousins as soon as she had turned her back, proving exactly what she had suspected all along.

“We’re good, dad. Actually, we’re more than good, we’re excellent,” the older cousin chirped.

“Great.” He paused a moment, but it was clear that he had more to say. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he looked from one woman to the other. “So,” he began carefully, before a huge Cheshire grin spread across his face. “I hope you all reserved a dance for me tonight.”

“Oh, no, daddy, not again.”

“Please, don’t make us do this.”

“There will be dancing here? If you had told me that beforehand, I certainly wouldn’t have come.”

“Of course there will be dancing. I thought that was obvious.” He had to try very hard to look a little slighted, while he actually drew a horrendous amount of amusement from their antics. “Remember, girls, we have a tradition to uphold. Whenever there is some dancing at a party, you have to reserve at least one dance for me. That’s the rule.”

And with that he turned and left them on their own again.

“Ugh, why does he always have to do that to us?” her younger cousin whined.

“Oh stop it, silly. You’re the one who likes it the most and everyone knows.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She had been the first to pay tribute to the family tradition and after a very exhausting Discofox dance session, luckily one of her cousins had taken over from her. Kicking off her heels, she welcomed the feel of the cool grass underneath the soles of her feet. Walking over to one of the empty tables, she slumped down heavily into one of the comfortable looking chairs. With a contented smile she let herself fall back against the backrest, closing her eyes and breathing in the mild air of the warm summer night.

“Care for a drink?”

His voice made her jump, sitting up straight immediately, eyes shooting wide open. And there he was, two shot glasses in his large hands and grinning down at her, obviously very satisfied with the slight scare he had just given her. He looked amazing, the smug bastard, in his casual jeans and white shirt, two buttons undone, topped with a sporty black jacket. She highly doubted that she had ever seen a finer man in her entire life. Luckily that didn’t make her lose her sharp tongue.

“And here I am thinking that you weren’t fond of alcohol. What happened?”

He smiled sheepishly, only one corner of his mouth tugged up, when he handed her her drink. He took his time, grabbing a chair and positioning it opposite hers, then sitting down carefully, not wanting to spill the shot all over his chest. She had already come to think that he was trying to avoid her question after all, when he locked eyes with her and finally began to speak.

“Hm. It’s been a while since I last saw you. A lot of things happened, you know. Maybe it was finally time for me to grow up.”

“Hear, hear.” With a mischievous smile she raised her glass. “To your coming of age, then.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you insist.”

His magnificent blue eyes never left hers while they chinked glasses, and a second later she could feel the more than welcome liquid moisturising her suddenly very dry mouth.

With a thud, their glasses landed on the table, both of them chuckling like giddy children when their eyes found each other again and then, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to have zoned out, leaving behind nothing but his aquamarine orbs and the wild smile on his face.

Just gradually, the world seemed to set back in again. There was the monotonous clitter of the crickets, overlaid by the muffled sound of the music that was carried over by a soft breeze, and loudest of all she could hear the beating of her own heart against her chest.

“What else has changed now that you are a proper adult?” she heard herself ask, not having the faintest idea where those words came from and how the hell she managed to deliver them so smoothly when her whole body seemed to have gotten out of control.

He took a quick look over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the same direction.

“If you mean the dancing, I’m still not very fond of that.” Her face must have fallen a little because he was quick to add, “Except...”

“Except what?”

His eyes landed back on hers and she almost choked on her hitching breath.

“Except I think I could make an exception for the right partner.”

From the corner of her eye she registered a movement between their bodies, but she was hesitant to let her view stray from his captivating appearance. At last it was something in his eyes that looked at her expectantly which finally made her snap out of her trance.

Looking down at his hand sheepishly, it took her a while to fathom that he was actually asking her to dance with him.

Slowly her eyes wandered up to his again, asking a silent question, which he answered with an almost imperceptible rise of his eyebrows. And before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He had just turned towards the source of the music, when she suddenly held him back.

“No, wait.”

With a puzzled look he did what she asked of him and let her twist him back around.

“Why don’t we just stay here? The music is loud enough anyway.”

A gentle smile curved his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded softly, her teeth biting down on her lip in excitement.

And before she knew what was happening, she found herself secured against his chest by his firm grip. It felt like being pressed up to a hot furnace which she would usually have appreciated any other time, but on a sweltry night like this and in a place she had wanted to be in for so long, it was pure torture. And as if this wasn’t bad enough already, his strong fingers pressed down on her lower back, threatening to scorch her even through the fabric of her blouse as he pulled her an impossible inch further into him. He was so close now that she could sense the heat radiating off his cheek as well, bringing along a whiff of his enticing scent and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply and her head began to spin. It was odd, but her mind was completely blank by now, blank except for one thought and her lips spread into a blissful smile as she repeated it in her head again and again, relishing in the feeling that if either of them moved just the tiniest bit, their cheeks would inevitably touch.

Slowly they moved and despite the unhurried shift of their bodies her heart was beating so violently that she thought it pondered jumping out of her chest to meet his. There was no chance he wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he held her, and when he finally drew away a tad to look at her, she fully expected him to call her out for it.

But he didn’t. Instead his sinfully soft lips curled into a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“You were right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A cute chuckle escaped his mouth, leaving the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most beautiful display of amusement.

“About what you said at your uncle’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She had said a lot that evening, words that she had come to regret later and remembering them now set her cheeks on fire. “About what exactly?”

“About everything,” he admitted without hesitation, yet he couldn’t hide the spark of misery that flitted across his sea blue orbs. “Didn’t take me very long after that night to finally see things clearly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was true. Although she knew that she probably sounded like a madwoman after everything she had confronted him with back then, at least the frown on his forehead seemed to confirm that. “I truly am. I really would have liked to see you happy.” Even if it was with that girl.

She was glad she had managed to keep that last bit to herself. She had no idea why she had said that she was sorry in the first place, but judging by the wild smile on his face it must have been the right words after all.

“Well, I certainly am happier now than I was that night.” He shrugged. “So, thank you, I guess.”

She huffed. “For what? Making absolutely inappropriate remarks on your relationship? I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now. So it should be me who is sorry here, don’t you think?”

She could feel his fingertips press into the soft flesh of her back.

“Don’t be. I guess you were exactly what I needed.” It took him a second before he realised what he had just said. “I mean it. It was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes snapped to the left and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin that decorated her lips as she watched the treacherous colour creep into his cheeks, spreading all the way to his ears. For a while he didn’t say another word, probably still trying feverishly to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. And when he finally spoke, she wished he hadn’t.

“There is one thing though that I have gone over and over in my mind. But no matter how long I think about it, it just won’t make sense.”

She already knew that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was heading now, but she found herself asking nonetheless.

“And what is that?”

His head turned without a warning as his eyes searched her gaze and for the blink of an eye his lips came so close that she couldn’t say if they had actually brushed along hers or if her needy heart had just imagined their brief touch. He didn’t answer her question right away, his breath blending with her own in the narrow space between their faces and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really only dreamed up their fleeting foretaste of a kiss.

“Why did you do it?” Panic rose in her chest. She hadn’t done anything. After all it had been him who had turned his head. But as he went on, she realised that he wasn’t referring to that at all and the suffocating distress eased away bit by bit. “I mean, we didn’t even know each other when you decided to come at me like that.”

Now it was her who had to avert her gaze.

“I think I don’t really want to answer that question.”

“Why not?” His voice was so soft and gentle, making it even harder to answer him.

“Because the truth might be kind of ugly.”

“But the outcome wasn’t, so I think I’ll take that risk.”

Her feet stopped their mechanical movements as a violent shiver ran down her spine. So this would be it then. It would be over before it had really begun. Pity. But at least she would have the memory of these few minutes, of his genuine smile and the way he had held her tight against his chest. With a deep sigh she bid their daydream of a dance goodbye.

“I could tell you now that it was for some noble reason, but at the bottom of it all I think it was nothing more than jealousy that drew me to your table that night. I had been unable to ignore you all evening — ignore her. The way she behaved like a spoiled brat, drinking and losing control, not caring in the least that she not only made a fool out of herself but of you as well. God, I hated her in that moment, for having everything I ever wanted and riding roughshod over it. And when I saw you sitting there, looking so utterly crestfallen, somehow I couldn’t help it.”

An undefinable silence settled between them and the only sound that remained was the beat of the music wafting over from the party that went on behind his back. The faint whisper of the melody seemed to push itself up between them and tear them further apart, exactly as she had expected. And just like the bass, her heartbeat slowed until it died away completely.

It was over and everything she wanted to do was let go of his hand so she could do him the favour of leaving, but to her astonishment he refused to set her free. And rather then releasing her from his grip, he squeezed her hand, briefly and just once, but it was enough for her to find the courage and face him. But instead of finding a frown or a scornful pair of eyes, his blinding smile made her forget to breathe for a moment.

“I had hoped you might say that.” And with that he pulled her into his arms again and continued swaying her to the music as if she had not just revealed her repulsive self to him. Her brain still a step behind, she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him stupidly.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” And when she shook her head like a petrified imbecile, an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Because even though your behaviour was extremely infuriating, I have to admit that I like you. And asking you out on a date will be so much easier now that I know you like me too.”

With a violent jolt, the useless muscle inside her chest started to beat again, its heavy pounding filling her ears with white noise as the world around her started to spin. Unable to stop the motion, she felt herself leaning in, her nails digging into the undoubtedly expensive fabric of his jacket as she desperately tried to gain control over her unruly body.

“So, will you go out with me?”

It seemed like an eternity until she finally mustered the strength for a mechanical nod. Neither had she noticed in her struggle that he had stopped dancing, nor that the priceless look on her face had made his eyes and heart go soft for her.

“Great. That’s settled then. When are you free?”

It was only when he took a step back, taking his warmth with him as his hand slipped out of hers, that she snapped out of her trance.

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

More like now as in before she could screw everything up again.

“Yes, why not? I know you have a busy schedule, so finding a date when we are both free might be tough. And above that, it is a beautiful summer evening.”

Had all those words really fallen from her mouth right now? Embarrassed about her lack of composure, her hand flew up to her mouth, making him smile again.

“I guess you have a fair point there.” And just like that, his hand was there again, fingers entwining slowly with hers like they had never been meant for anyone else. “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

***

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

can you please write a fic where youre aizawas' wife and you're pregnant with twins, and while he's in the middle of teaching at UA you go into labor and you call him, and he leaves in the middle of their class, (the class dosen't know he's married and obviously dosen't know he's about to become a father) and the class thinks that something's seriously wrong because they saw panic on his face for a slight second when he got the call, so they end up following him to the hospital only to see him sniling and holding two newborn babies that look just like him and the woman who is on the hospital bed (you) and theyre in shock when they find out that you're his wife and those are his kids, but what shocks them most is the big smile on his face when he was holding his babies 🥺 idk i thought it would be cute

“did he steal two babies?”

pairing: shouta aizawa x female reader

cw: language, fluff

word count: 3000+

a/n: i live for domestic one shots, i might write some more depending on how i’m feeling, hope you guys like this have a happy new years eve people, the stupid tags arent working so if you could reblog it it would mean a lot

summary: in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Eight months, eight full fucking months of carrying Aizawa’s little spawns. Having spent your last term of pregnancy on bed rest, it had been the worst term ever, you would rather have taken the puking up last nights dinner then staying in bed. Even Aizawa had gotten annoyed with how frustrated you had got, you craved how he could get up and leave for work. You hadn’t gone into work since your maternity leave started and you were annoyed, being a pro hero it had been worse.

As soon as you told the agency you were pregnant, you were desk bound, unable to go on patrols. It was fucking annoying and you hated every second of it, and all Aizawa could do was smirk at your frustration. “I’m due any day now, just leave work and stay with me.” You plead grabbing the material from his neck, you wanted him to hold you. You already felt gross staying in bed 24/7 but now you didn’t have your husband beside you 24/7.

“Kitten, this is my last day, I’ll spend the rest of the pregnancy with you.” You were grouchy letting go of him and turning your head to face away for him. “Y/n.”

He tried to gain your attention but ignored him, “you should’ve gotten pregnant as well you’d understand.”

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he crept his arms around your body, his hand resting on the baby bump. You shuffled closer to his body, before turning your head to see him softly rubbing back and forth across the bump.

“Be patient, my love.” It was a whisper which brought you comfort.

“If you’re not home by 4pm then I’m locking you out of the house.” You threaten.

He looks down at you with your fiery eyes, “sure you are.” He kisses the top of your head; you pout wanting a proper kiss. He looks at how perfect you looked with his babies, when you both found out you were having twins, the small apartment you had called home since dating. Had gone and a house in the country close enough to UA and still for you to do pro hero work was where the both of you had situated.

Your relationship have been very secretive, a small wedding ceremony which had been perfect with your family and friends. Of course people had noticed you had gone MIA but one day you’d come out and tell the world how you and Aizawa were an inseparable family.

He moved to capture your lips, grabbing his face you wanted to just drag him back to bed. But he quickly moved out of your grip, “patience Y/n.”

“Shouta.” You whine like a child would.

“Seems like ill be raising three babies now.” He mocked putting the scarf around his yellow goggles.

“I hope you break your goggles.” You huff again, he doesn’t speak only kissing your temple after the small peck he had given to your lips.

He starts to walk out the bedroom, your wedding photo situated on the cabinet. You were perfect back then and now with his kids inside of you, you became somehow even more perfect. He had never thought that the woman he had met all those years ago, who had showed of her quirk to the whole world would be the one he fell in love with.

He looked back at you, you were grumpy due to hormones but once the babies were out you knew you’d go back to being yourself (and both of you could fuck properly, but that was just a bonus.)

“Make sure to walk around the house.” He warns.

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “and what if I don’t, will you come home early?” Your extra clinginess melted his insides, he knew how bored your loud self was and being cooped up inside had took a toll on you.

“I’ll come home early.” The sound of your squeal lifted his spirits, it was adorable, and he loved how easily your mood changed. Your face was full, and you had something to look forward too as he left the room.

The day for Aizawa had been smooth sailing, having asked to leave at 2pm and being able to, he had been with the students whilst they were training. He could imagine teaching his kids everything to do with this world, he couldn’t wait for his own leave, to spend time with his future babies but also with his loving wife.

The sound of Bakugo shouting was something else he had gotten used to; how could a 16-year-old boy be louder than the babies he had heard on those stupid pregnancy videos you made him watch. You had shown him a woman giving birth and to say it was the weirdest thing he’s ever seen; he’d happily watch stuff go inside of you but the other way round was another issue.

He stood watching over them, they had gotten a lot stronger in the months and the events that had occurred. It was another reason for the secrecy, having to hide your relationship to prevent disaster from happening. He watched the time tick away; another two more hours and he could leave and spend the rest of the trimester with you.

The sound of running caught his ears, he looked up and saw Principle Nezu walking towards him. “Agh Aizawa, we got a call from your wife’s mother.”

He hadn’t checked his phone, but if your mother had been calling it must’ve been something serious, the class had noticed the principle and had gotten quiet even Bakugo who wanted to know why the principle was here.

“Finally, you answered, she’s going into labour.” He heard on the other liner, he was in shock, his phone dropping to the side.

“Sh…She what?” It was early, of course you both knew about early pregnancies but this he had just spoken you a couple hours ago and now here you were about to go into labour.

“In labour, her water broke whilst I came to see her.” He could hear you screaming on the other side, how you must’ve been in pain, he knew you had been dilated a couple days ago but this, this was sooner than he had expected.

Nezu got the hint that something had happened and so had the class, a flash of worry across Aizawa’s face. “We’ll send the students back to the dorms.” He was calm and Aizawa quickly rushed out of the gym, leaving nothing else to say. He needed to make it to the hospital as quick as he could, in an instant he called your mother.

“Is she okay?” He had ran outside going to his car to quickly rush to the hospital.

He heard screaming which he assumed was you, “she’s grouchy…”

Before he could hear the rest of what your mother said, he heard you shout, “if that’s my idiot of a husband tell him to get to the fucking hospital.” It was a wail and he regretted not taking the day off.

“Y/n.” Her mother scowled, “we’re at the hospital, I’ll text you the room.” Is all her mother said before hanging up. Aizawa was stressed to say the least but what he hadn’t seen through the chaos was class 1A following him.

The class had seen the worry and panic before he jolted out of the room, “you all are dismissed for the day.” Nezu spoke before leaving.

“What do you think happened?” Momo questioned worried.

“He seemed in a hurry; it was probably something important.” Kirishima retorted back.

The class watched him on the phone the question of ‘is she okay?’ being heard. “Who do you think he’s talking about?” Mina asked.

“Why do you lot care so much?” Bakugo angrily said pissed that training had been cut early.

“He’s our teacher, what if something bad happened Kacchan.” Midoriya answered but it just fuelled Bakugo’s anger.

“We should follow him.” Denki suggested. “It might be serious and if people need help, we can help.”

They nodded, all assuming it had something to do with hero work, seeing Aizawa in his car, they started to follow him on foot, “we should’ve taken one of the buses.” Bakugo scowled following.

“We cant drive.” Kirishima muttered back.

Bakugo huffed following them all on the long walk, it was easy enough to keep following due to the mass traffic occurring. Aizawa having got the room number, he didn’t care for his surroundings, his eyes fixated on the road.

He finally saw the sign for the hospital and breathed out hoping you hadn’t gotten into labour yet. “Why is he at a hospital?” Ururaka questioned, “do you think someone got hurt?”

“Maybe we should go back.” Momo said not wanting to intrude on something that could have no villainous intent.

“Shut up extra’s, we’re already here.” Bakugo muttered walking to the entrance, they all followed the angry boy who glared at the children coming out of that ward.

“When did you care about the injured?” Kirishima questioned the blond.

“I don’t, you dragged me with you so now we’re staying.” For one thing the boy was persistent.

Across the hospital, Aizawa had ran to the room and saw your eyes filled with fury, your mother holding your hand as he could see how much pain you were in. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You scowled in pain.

“You can take over now.” Is all her mother said, going outside and waiting. He took her place and in an instance your hands had grabbed his.

“You must be the husband, I’ll be helping your wife, can you wear these?” The doctor spoke passing the blue overall type to keep his clothes covered, Aizawa obliged still holding your hand. “Mrs Aizawa you’re about 9cm dilated once you get to 10cm I’m going to tell you to push, okay?”

You were breathless and felt dreary, it would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the fact you were having twins. You knew you’d go through even more pain then normal and in that moment felt scared.

“Hey kitten, look at me, you’ll do amazing.” Aizawa tried to be encouraging but even he was scared for all three of you.

“It hurts.” You tried to hide the tears, but it mixed in with the sweat.

“I know kitten, but you can grab onto me as hard as you want.” He smiles moving the strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“10cm’s.” One of the nurses spoke out, the doctor nodded before looking at the angry you and calm husband.

“Mrs Aizawa you need to start pushing.” The pain was excruciating, you tried to push your grip on Aizawa’s hands becoming tighter. It was the worst pain you’d gone through and you’d been stabbed before.

Aizawa gave words of encouragement but all you wanted to do was tell him to shut up, tears cascaded down your face whilst pushing. “I see a head.” The doctor spoke, “keep pushing.”

You pushed a long with what the nurses had told you, in time to make sure you weren’t just randomly pushing. Aizawa was the first to see it, first to see the baby come out, it was quiet before wailing out loud, it was his turn to cry. The baby being placed on your chest before the doctor continued, “one more push, let’s get the other one out.”

You felt the first baby on your ski grabbing your neck as you kept on pushing, “I don’t want too.” You cried out but seeing Aizawa and how he looked at the baby on your chest you knew you needed too.

“Come on kitten, one more push.” He spoke a loud, you suppresses the tears before feeling another hard push come and the head of another baby erupt out of you. The doctor but the second baby on your chest, both their crying having stopped.

They stayed on you, you let go of Aizawas hand as the doctor told him he could cut the umbilical cord, he happily obliged before looking at the two babies that you both had created. They were smaller then normal and there eyes were tightly shut clinging onto their new mother.

“We need to weigh and clean them.” The doctor spoke as two nurses took the babies ready to put tags on them, the oldest had been a boy and the youngest a girl. You missed there touch and hold wanting to hold them again but watching them being taken out.

“We did it.” You spoke sleepily as you felt yourself being cleaned up and ready to be moved into another room.

“Yeah, we did.” Aizawa spoke going in to kiss your temple, “we’re parents.”

Tears brimmed his eyes; this normal dry flat facial features had become happier and all he could think about was how you looked with his two children. How he had gotten a family that he had never expected to have had.

Being moved to a different room, Aizawa followed sitting on the chair beside you. You saw the two babies come back to you both, in an instance they were placed back into your arms. “You can hold them?”

You had seen Aizawa’s hesitance to even touch the babies, but he knew how to do it and with ease they both were situated in his arms. You could hear your mother outside, she seemed to be talking to some people, but you ignored it watching at how Aizawa’s eyes welled up at the two babies.

“Where are my grandchildren?” Your mother spoke a loud before having heart eyes at how Aizawa was holding your babies.

“Mum, please be quieter.”

“Hey, I had to handle your screams, let me be happy, they look adorable with their father.” She spoke moving to the bed.

“They really do.” You both watched him look at the two children, a tear falling from his face.

Your mother turned back to you and she smiled at you, “I’m proud of you.” You give a nod holding her hand before she speaks, “have you two got any na…”

Before she could continue you hear the door open with the doctor coming in, “it seems you two have more visitors.”

You were both confused on the matter, nobody really knew you had gone into pregnancy except your parents and his and your father was still at work whilst his parents were out of town. It was unexpected but your eyes widen when you see the group of 16-year olds.

“They were wondering around the hospital.” The doctor speaks, Aizawa hadn’t noticed his students, but you and your mother had.

The kids were in shock at seeing a pro hero in a hospital bed but there eyes went to Aizawa’s he had been looking at his babies, unaware of his surroundings.

Nobody spoke instead just watching Aizawa interact with the two new-born babies, a smile placed on his normal flat self. “Did he steal two babies?” You hear one of them whisper, you instantly begin to speak after that.

“Shouta.” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He was so out of dazed but once he turns to face them all, he’s in shock as well.

“I’ll leave you to handle this.” Your mother leaves not wanting to have to explain this scenario.

Aizawa was still in shock, you reach out for one of the babies, he passes you the youngest, who starts to grab at your fingers. He sits holding the boy, before the class start cascading you both in questions.

“Are they yours?”, “How do you know Pro Hero Y/n?”, “Who is she to you?”

Aizawa looks at them and then at his family, you nod a sign that he could tell them everything, “This is my wife, and these are our new kids.”

It was a simple but effective, the class in shock that there homeroom teacher who seemed to be detached had you the loving pro hero as a wife, but even more now had two kids.

“Congratulations.” They all spoke a loud. It was rehearsed and you could tell that it all came out due to shock.

“What are you doing here anyway, I thought we said go back to the dorms.” Aizawa scowled.

“Baby, it’s fine, it’s good they found out anyway, since you wont be teaching them for a bit.” You calmed the man down.

He shakes his head at how easily you calmed him down, “you’re an amazing pro hero.” Midoriya spoke a loud, you thanked him before they didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll go call Nezu, he can get you back to UA.” Aizawa muttered handing you the other child as he left the room.

“You married Aizawa.” Mina spoke a loud everybody looked at her, “what? We were all thinking it?”

You laugh looking at them all, “yes I did.”

“And you slept with him.” Mina continued with ever more eyes growing wider.

You continued to laugh, “that is how I got pregnant.”

“What are their names?” Ururaka asked coming towards the two kids.

You sat upright, letting them have a closer look, they all came forward even Bakugo who saw children as devils spawn. They were fresh out and anew, so pure and innocent as they tugged onto your hair.

“We haven’t decided yet.” You said looking at the two kids, you notice Aizawa at the door looking at the class as they surrounded you and the babies. The way they were quieter than they had ever been around two new-borns, they spent time asking questions and looking at the two babies. Before being dragged back to UA, all smiling happily at having spent the afternoon with two new-borns.

“They look like you.” You mutter sleepily, the two babies being put to sleep on the other sides of the room. “We made them.”

“I love you.” He whispers kissing you softly, you kiss back, happily at the new family you had and Aizawa finally realised what his happiness was. You and your two babies were all he ever needed now.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #mha shouta aizawa #mha shouta aizawa x reader #mha shouta #mha shouta x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #bakugohoex #my hero academia shouta aizawa #shota aizawa x reader

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

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Summary: You go to the batting cages with Frank, Mary, and your Aunt Roberta. Of course when no ones around Frank can’t keep his hands to himself. A continuation of Crush.

Pairings: Frank Adler x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, degradation, public sex, sex in a bathroom

(A/N: in the mood for my baby emo dirty boat daddy Frank. Trying to work through the writers block. Unedited and not proofread in the slightest. Like, follow, Reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @whiskey-cokenfanfic @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @love-more122 @doloreshazes (it wouldn’t let me tag you)

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You and Frank had been trying to be careful sneaking around ever since you hooked up in his car. Of course he’d taken you home to fuck you properly after, but that morning when you left you had to sneak out so that Mary wouldn’t see you. Having to crawl out of a window was a little weird and something you’d never had to do. You got it though. He didn’t want to confuse her.

There were a lot of stolen kisses and him grabbing your tits when no one was looking. The weekly sleepovers Mary had with Roberta were reserved for you. Sometimes you hung out at Ferg’s on those nights you’d fuck in his car before he’d take you back to his place to dick you down just right.

You still came over and played with Mary as usual. It was fun being around the small girl. Especially when she stopped pretending like she wasn’t have the time of her life playing with Barbies with you. You hated to admit it, but you were growing kind of attached.

Clearly it was the same way because this morning, there’d been a little knock on your door. When you’d opened it the small blonde girl was looking up at you with so much excitement in her eyes.

“Hi, Miss Y/N!” She greeted you, hugging your leg for good measure. Frank was standing behind her looking way too good in his white t-shirt. The little baseball hat sitting on his head was so cute.

“Hi, Mary.” You hugged her back, patting the top of her head. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Can you come to the batting cages with us?” She asked with her head tilted to the side.

You scrunched up your face. “Eh, I dunno. I’m not much of an athlete.”

“Please?” She pouted up at you. “Roberta’s coming, too.”

You sighed. “So what you’re really saying is that I have no choice.”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Frank said with a smirk.

“Besides Frank can teach you,” she said before grabbing your hand. “So, come on!”

You laughed, not budging. “Sounds good, but I have to change first.”

Frank shrugged. “You look good to me.” Of course he’d say that while you’re in these little cutoff shorts.

You raised an eyebrow as he smirked. “Fine. Just let me grab my bag.”

Mary chatted with Roberta in the backseat on the car ride over. You’d steal glances at Frank as he drove because for very obvious reasons. Like him being hot as fuck especially in this beat up truck. Or the fact that ever since that night, the two of you had been hooking up in this truck every chance you could get.

It was pretty fun watching Frank help Mary with the bat while Roberta was in her own cage swinging away. “Your turn,” Mary said.

You groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Of course,” she said with a grin. “C’mon.”

“Yeah. I’ll teach you,” Frank said, motioning with his head for you to come to him.

You groaned, but maybe it would be kind of nice to be a little closer to him. The closest you could be to him with Mary and Roberta around at least. So you sighed all dramatically before standing up. “Alright.”

As you took Mary’s place with the bat, Frank stood behind you with both his hands on either side of your waist. “You ready?” He asked, being sneaky with how he was massing your sides.

“Uh huh,” you said as he put his hands over yours.

“You gonna listen to every Daddy tells you?” He whispered into your ear.

You gasped and turned around to smack his stomach. He laughed. “What! I’m trying to help!”

You shook your head and glared at him before turning around back in your position. He moved his hands back to where they were before. Then kicked your legs apart with his foot so your stance was wider.

You hit the first ball and jumped and got all excited about it. Frank chuckled before going back to how he was before behind you, pressing a little too closely into your ass. This is how you stayed with him trying to flirt in your ear. You ignored him most of the time not wanting to draw to much attention in with your aunt or Mary.

“Alright, Mary’s hungry. You mind if I take her to get some food, Frank?” Roberta asked.

“That’s fine. Here let me give you some money,” he said getting out his wallet. While he handled them, you waited.

As soon as they walked away he went back to helping you. This time tickling your neck as he kissed it repeatedly.

“Frank,” you squealed, letting out a giggle. “Stop.”

“Just happy to finally get you alone,” he said, giving your boobs a good squeeze.

“Stop!” You giggled. “What if someone comes?”

“No ones here,” he said. “Just us.” His breath felt so good against your ear. It was making your stomach tingle.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he said, turning you to face him. “If I wanted to kiss you, I could.”

You sighed, biting your lip. “I just don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“Why not?” He asked, getting closer to your lips.

“Someone could come at any minute.”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he said before bringing you close so he could place a kiss on your lips.

You moaned into it as he pulled you closer. When he deepened it, pushing you until your back against the fencing. “Frank,” you whispered, breaking away from him.

“Whose Frank? I don’t know a Frank.” He looked up as he tried to play.

You glared at him, but laughed. “Fine. Daddy.”

“That’s better.” He grinned. “What is it?”

You sighed. “Is this a good idea?”

Frank groaned, rolling his eyes all dramatically. “I don’t even care.”

You hadn’t talked about being exclusive yet. So that kind of surprised you. Before you could ask him anything further he kissed you again. Then lifted your leg to wrap around his waist.

You pulled away from him again. You pushed him away by his broad shoulders. Before going back to where you’d been before. “What? We’re here to play baseball.”

Frank laughed before going back too. “You’re really gonna be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything.” You giggled.

“You’re being a brat. I should spank you,” he whispered in your ear.

It was like your entire body clenched hearing him talk to you like that. You hated to admit it, but you kind of perked up your ass to get him close. It felt so damn good.

“See you nasty slut. I knew you liked it,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands coming to tease the button of your shorts.

This time you didn’t stop him as he finished that. Undoing your shorts and starting to creep into your panties. “Daddy,” you moaned.

“See. Stop trying to play all innocent and shit,” he said all low into your ear. His voice raspy and slow. “Remember you’re my dirty little slut.”

As soon as he started rubbing your clit you gasped. Moving your hips back against him with the bat in your hands. You turned to look up at him where he reconnected your lips.

The feeling of him this close to you so out in the open felt so good. “Daddy,” you gasped. You leaned into him and you leaned back to put your head against his shoulder.

“What a good girl,” he said in a whisper.

You started beathing all heavy. Getting really into what he was doing to you. Your breasts heaving as you started to feel your orgasm.

The only problem was that you were knocked out of your trance when the door to the gate besides yours slammed. You jumped up and Frank quickly removed his fingers from your sensitive clit.

You hurried to button your shorts up again. At the same time, he checked to see if the coast was clear. Before he could say anything, you moved passed him. “Where you going?” He asked.

“Bathroom,” you replied as you gathered your stuff.

He sighed and shook his head. “Alright. I’ll start packing things up.” He sighed.

As you were in the little single bathroom you were kind of prepping yourself on what to say to Frank. On how you were supposed to even act around him now that you knew he may have wanted more. Not that you didn’t. You’d love more. That didn’t stop you from feeling all nervous and worried though.

As you opened the door to see him standing there, you furrowed your eyebrows. Wearing your confusion on your face. He looked you up and down before pushing you back into it.

“Frank, what are you-“

But before you could even finish asking him, he’d pushed his lips to yours. He slid his hand into your back pocket as he closed the door behind him. He turned you around in his arms, bending you over the sink.

The first smack he put on your ass you jumped like you were trying to get away from him. There was no choice, but to take what he wanted. “What did we just talk about, Baby? What’s my name?”

You whimpered, “You’re my daddy.”

“Good little girl,” he said before kissing you again as he started to tear your shorts down your legs along with your panties.

He bent you over as he started to take himself out of his clothes. “See that’s not so hard is it? Forget it again and you’ll,” he hissed as he got behind you, taking your hips in his hands, “really regret it.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked him as you looked at him through the mirror. Sure this wasn’t the most romantic place, but you were too far gone to give a shit.

He answered by pushing into you. Slamming his cock in your already wet cunt. Making you cry out before he could finally start ramming into you. Holding you on the tip of his cock before sliding you down.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

He grabbed your hips while you braced yourself against the sink. You were trying to be quiet but fuck it was kinda hard when he was fucking you like that. His dick so thick inside of you that you honestly felt like you might be too full.

You looked into the dingy mirror so you could watch him as he fucked into you. You were trying so hard to keep quiet. Just in case someone walked by. You could get pretty noisy and that last thing you needed was to get caught.

His dick always seemed to fuck into you exactly the way you needed it to. Hitting your spot as he slammed into you. It felt so damn good. Your pussy started tightening around him, signaling that your orgasm was close.

“We gotta be quick, Baby,” he said. “Need you to cum for me.”

He set you down before turning you around so he could pick you up. One of the things you liked about Frank was that he’d man handle you. There was something so hot about how he didn’t give a shit. If he wanted you in a certain position, he was putting you in it.

He started fucking into you again. Putting his face into your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started slam into you. Just trying to get you to reach your peak.

“Daddy,” you breathed out.

“See. That’s such a good slut,” he whispered in your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned into his shoulder. “God, yes! I’m gonna cum.”

“Thats it. Cum for me, Y/N. Cum for Daddy.” He panted as it finally crashed into you. His own movements faltered as he started to cum inside of you. “Fuck.”

He pecked your lips before setting you down so the two of you could make yourselves presentable again. “I can’t believe we just had sex in a gross bathroom,” you said as you finally went to walk to where Roberta and Mary had went to get lunch.

He chuckled. “I know right.” He surprised you as he grabbed your hand. “So I was kind of serious earlier. About us maybe telling them. About us.”

“That we mess around?” You teased, looking up at him with a smirk.

Frank rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “No that we’re ya know.”

“Fuck buddies?”

He laughed. “No.” He stopped walking as he tugged you to him. “That you’re my girlfriend. Maybe.”

You couldn’t help it as a smile spread across your face. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He sighed before leaning down to kiss you again. “Good.” He nuzzled your nose with his, his facial hair tickling your cheek. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with this smile that had appeared on your face because fuck he was cute, as he grabbed your hand again.

#Frank Adler smut #Chris Evans smut #frank adler x reader #Frank Adler x black!reader #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x female reader

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