#but bookshelf and wall are my favorite bits

[cupiare]

starting to fill my room w things i like n it does change everything. love my lil gallery

[tightjeansjavi]

snooze

A/N: this is all @corazondebeskar fault 🥺

~Word Count: 717~

Summary: Joel loves to nap

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, domestic fluff, soft!joel, peepaw!joel and a sprinkle of angst, readers nickname is honeypie and lady, reader has no physical descriptions (given the content of my blog, all fics are +18 minors dni!)

The last thing Joel Miller ever expected after the outbreak was finding himself in a domestic situation where he had the luxury of fucking napping.

He loved to nap.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep in the porch chair out on the back deck with the sun warming his face. He’d set his guitar down to the side, cross his arms over his chest and mumble about how he’s just gonna rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When you come outside to check on him, he’s snoozing, soft snores slipping past his plush lips. Face relaxed, and the once permanent furrow of his brows is no longer present.

Sometimes after dinner he’d situate himself on the couch with you and Ellie on either side of him while he lets Ellie pick out a movie to watch. He’ll argue that he won’t fall asleep..this time. But between the blanket draped over his legs, and Ellie curled up with her head in his lap, he’s dozing off with his head resting on your shoulder.

His favorite time to nap is arguably right after lunch. Specifically Sunday’s because it’s the one day out of the week where he’s not on patrol, and he gets to spend his whole day with you.

The sunroom is a new addition that he and Tommy built together. There’s a built-in bookshelf along the wall that is brimming with all different genres of books. There’s even some house plants. The main star of the room is the cozy chaise lounge. It’s a bit faded, and has seen better days, but he loves it.

His eyes are already droopy when you move to get up from the spot you were sitting on. He loved it when you would read to him, and today’s book was Wuthering Heights.

“Where you goin’,honeypie?” He rasps, peeking one eye open to look over at you.

You place your hand over his covered knee, squeezing it gently before you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. “Laundry is probably done by now. I’ll be right back, okay?” You brush away a few strands of his soft curls. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and the grays in his beard are more prominent. You’ve never stopped loving this man, and he’s never stopped loving you.

“Hurry back, please. Miss you already.” He murmurs, lips curving into a lazy grin.

He’s a sap. A real softy now that he has no reason to fear. You and Ellie, and this town have turned a lion into a house cat.

“You’re a real softy, Joel Miller.” You whisper and brush away a few stray breadcrumbs from his patchy beard.

“Mhm. ‘S’cus’ of you, lady.” He teases gently.

You peck his lips once more, lulling him to close his eyes. Rest, Joel. You have all the time in the world to sleep. To love. To relax. To live. All the time, my love.

His lashes flutter as he sinks further into the couch, awaiting your return so he can snuggle with you once more.

Taking care of the laundry and tidying up the kitchen takes all of 10 minutes for you to complete. You find yourself thinking about the days when 10 minutes could either mean life or death. 10 minutes used to feel like 10 seconds. To run. To hide. To fight. 10 minutes now felt like 10 hours. 10 years.

You and Joel fought hard for this life of peace and not a day goes by where you don’t feel grateful for it all.

When you return to the sunroom, one of his legs is sticking out from under the quilted blanket, and he’s sprawled out entirely. His skin holds a warm glow from the trickling sunlight coming in through the windows.

He senses your presence even in his light slumber, and his arms subconsciously reach for you.

I’m here. You reassure him as his eyes open, droopy with sleep. He looks scruffy and soft at the same time. A big ole teddy bear; all yours.

Missed you. He murmurs softly as his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against his strong chest.

Missed you too, Joel. You melt into his warm embrace. Heartbeats steady, calm and at peace.

Two house cats basking in the sunlight, bellies full, and hearts warm.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

[starzshopoflove]

Simon "ghost" Riley x Reader

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry

no thoughts just ghost meeting cute little civvie reader in a shop when he's just trying to get his shopping done after coming back from a mission just wanting to fill his fridge with enough beer and groceries that vaguely resemble food

Simon watching you struggle to reach the flour from a set high shelf in the aisle, grumbling to yourself about "who fucking needs flour anyway" still trying to reach it and he just pluck it off the shelf and drops it in your cart before making his way to another aisle and your just left looking stupid watching this giant trudge away with a little blue tesco basket in tow

Simon who notices you at the same book shop he frequents, but your perched behind the counter doing god knows what ( vaguely resembles inventory but hey do what you will) calculator in hand as he peeks from behind a bookshelf trying to remember where he's seen you before.

Civvie reader who passes her days working quietly in a book shop and living in a simple one room flat indulging her romantic needs in fiction too nervous to actually talk to men, fictional ones satisfying her needs better. That is until you see some books on the counter sliding over to scan them.

"Your total's 23.55" you mumble looking at the screen "Cash or Card?" you add before lifting your head to meet the brick wall of a muscle man. Oh OH, no thoughts as you just stare at his pecs in your line of sight thanking whatever god you believe in for the sight before you, better then anything your little brain could muster up even with the detailed descriptions authors would spit out onto the pages you read

You violently peel your eyes away from the most beautiful pair of man tits you've ever seen to see what man was the owner, and by god do you wish you werent so bad around men. I mean the wind practically got knocked out of your lungs as you let out a barely audible squeak watching this man fish in his pockets for his wallet

Messy blonde hair that was in that weird phase of curly but not really, a nose that looks like its seen a good fight, deep set brown eyes, and a few healed scars settled on the skin. Aged but like wine, a really really fine wine

"Right, cash" His hands fiddling through the wallet to pull out the bank notes, while you prayed you didnt look like a hunger dog staring at his hands as they placed the cash on the counter.

Simon who watches the little bookshop employee look like she just got punched in the gut and was trying not groan as she quickly rang him up, Do i smell? he thinks to himself

Simon who watches your smaller hands shuffle the cash into the register, noting how they're free of calluses, nailed neat and slightly grown, soft.

Simon who leaves the bookstore thinking of a excuse to go again tomorrow, not to see the bookshop girl or anything, he has his reasons!! he just hasn't thought of it yet!!

You start looking up from your notes for your class when the shop bell jingles hoping to see the mystery man whos built exactly like your favorite webcomic character but with the gruff and mature aura of that mc from the game your friend made you play that you cant quite remember. Only disappointed when its just another customer , until later in the day the man returns again.

But its much later in the day and you've switched on the shops warm lights, turning off the ac letting the place warm up as you hear the door jingle again, mystery man making his way to the counter your eyes following his every step, meaty thighs

You who perks up when his forearms settle at the counter suddenly eyes locking onto yours and suddenly very glad you tidied up a bit today, tinted chapstick, perfume, cleaner turtle neck, lashes, lipgloss, earrings ahm

"Tesco" he grumbles out unmoving

"what" well thats not what you were expecting to hear

"You were the girl , couldnt reach the flour yeah?" oh that was him

"Oh, that was you? thank you?" oh what the fuck were you supposed to say?? oh thank you freakishly tall man who watched me struggle?? let me take your whole cock in my mouth while you call me a good pet feeding your meaty length down my throat??

"Yeah" Simon didnt think to much on what to do now, gaze getting awkward now that hes got his confirmation

"Did you need anything" you finally broke the silence, god its fuckin tense in here and hes so close, you wanna just get a sniff but thats hardly workplace behavior doesn't matter if its your dads shop or not.

"Mhm, ye got any cook books?"

"yeah, section 12, shelf 9" whos he cooking for? his wife? i dont see a ring? maybe a long time girlfriend?? who wouldnt snatch up this actual beefcake

"Thanks, tryna cook something new for myself. Flats been quiet" He mumbled like speaking too much would give him a headache

SImon purchased his books same stare at the girls hand like last time as she took his money. God do something you look like a creep staring at this poor girls hands.

"Got a notepad luv?" again that same punched face returned, is she alright? he thought to himself

Oh he just called me luv oh fuck dont wheeze dont wheeze just hand him the pen and paper like a good employee, come on. Oh god dont stare at his arms, are those tattoos oh my god

Sliding back the notepad simon made pace of grabbing his cook book a slipping out the shop just as quick as he went in

You who looked at the notepad almost slipping back out of your chair

"Simon 44 xxx xxx xxx"

Children were singing, the angels sang their songs, the trees regrew in that parking lot down the street, healthcare in america was just made free, and you just got the phone number of a man built like a double door fridge that you have every intention of climbing

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (03)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n; new chapter !! also added navigation and some lists to my profile where you can find right here <3 you can find my masterlist, idea/wip dump, a link to my ask box where you can send in thots, requests and even comments; alongside my ao3 ^^

hope you all enjoy this chapter and lmk if you can guess which korean web series one of the scenes are from 👀

hint: it involves a certain kpop group

it was the beginning of fall when your family moved to daegu.

though it wasn’t a big or dramatic move, since you’re moving from the big city to a smaller town in the same province, it was still big to you because it was your first moving experience.

you vividly remember watching the colored leaves fall from the branches and onto the pavement, being stepped on by pedestrians and you imagined they made those ‘crunch’ noises as depicted by the many cartoons you’ve watched.

you were only 5 years old.

“___, are you excited to see our new home?” your mother asked from the passenger seat, turning to see you kneeling on the backseat, admiring the outside view. you turned to her with a big smile, letting out an excited ‘mm!’.

smiling at your enthusiasm, your mother turned to your father who was driving; reaching out her hand and placing it over your father’s resting on the armrest of the car. “do you think she’ll like the place?”

intertwining his fingers with hers, your father gave your mother’s hand an assuring squeeze, “i’m sure she will,” he spoke, “if she doesn’t, we’ll just have to hope it grows on her.”

your mother laughs at your father’s statement; at the same time hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.

the car stops in front of a white double-story terrace house. the second floor had been extended into a balcony and you notice the few familiar plants from your previous house put on display. half of the wall on the outside of the second story was an exposed brick wall, which adds a little bit of red-orange aesthetic to the full white design of the house. the ground level had a black gate, with two front doors in the same colour with floor-to-ceiling tinted windows.

getting out of the car, you ran up to the gates, attempting to climb them before your mother rushed over and picked you up. “sweetie, that’s dangerous!” she pointed out, a frown on her face.

your father was at the boot of the car, stacking two of the many boxes together before making his way to the gates. “honey, the keys are in my back pocket, could you get it?” reaching out a hand into your father’s pocket and fishing out the keys. unlocking the gates and the front door, your mother placed you down on the ground to help your father with the boxes while you decide to explore the interior of the house.

running up the stairs to the second story of the house, there were three gray colored doors. being a curious child, of course you went through all three of them. you opened the first door that revealed the master bedroom, which of course is going to be occupied by your parents. the second door lead to a bathroom; and when you reached the third door - a pink sign was hung on the door with your name written on it.

pushing the door open, the first thing you noticed was a pink bed tucked nicely in one corner of the room. across it was a white study table with a few trinkets decorating the surface, followed by a wooden closet right next to it. at the foot of your bed stood a similar level bookshelf, filled with all your favorite books and coloring books; alongside some of your plush toys.

“do you like it, babygirl?” came your father’s voice from behind you. whirling around and flashing him a big smile, you excitedly nod your head as he crouched down to your level, giving your hair a ruffle.

“i’m glad you do.”

he then proceeded to pick you up and placed you over his shoulder, legs hanging over his shoulders. “daddy!” you squealed, giggling as he gave you a piggyback ride.

“honey! ___!” your mother called out, “come meet our neighbours!”

you stared down at the young boy from your father’s shoulder while he stared back up at you.

as your father sets you down from his shoulder, the roles switched; you’re now staring up at the boy while he stares down at you.

seeing how the staring contest would not end anytime soon, your mother placed her hands on your shoulders, introducing you to the young boy and the woman standing next to him who you deduced to be his mother.

“my, what an intense staring contest,” she chuckled. “we’re the lees’! that’s my husband, and this is ___, my daughter.”

“intense, indeed,” the woman chuckled. “we’re the chois’. it’s nice to meet you, ___. this boy here is seungcheol, my son. my husband’s out back dealing with the garden.”

she then looked down at seungcheol, lightly patting his shoulders, “cheol, did you bring what i asked you to?”

snapping out of the staring contest he was having with you, seungcheol handed you a paper bag which you accepted after getting a nod of confirmation from your mother. looking inside the bag, you see a container of brownies, a small ‘wah…’ leaving your lips.

“mom and i baked them last night! we hope you’ll like them!” seungcheol said with a big grin on his face.

placing a hand on your head, your mother smiles, “our little ___ will definitely like them. she has an incredible sweet tooth.”

“no, i do not!”

“___, sweetie,” your father spoke up, “you ate half a tub of ice cream in half an hour.”

“daddyy!!”

you were 7 when your little crush on seungcheol began.

you were in the playground, swinging on the swingset with your bear plush in your lap when a group of boys approached you. “that’s our swing,” one of the boys spoke, arms crossed as they stared down at you.

you stopped swinging and looked at the group, “you can’t claim a swing. it’s a playground for everyone.” visibly upset by your response, the boys stepped closer so that they would tower over you. “well, this is our swing now. get off.”

“no.”

you could see the face of the boys turn red - from anger and embarrassment that you were refusing to follow their instructions. as they continued to stare down at you, one of them noticed your bear plush, snatching it out from your lap.

“hey!” you shouted, getting off the swing to try and get your plush back, “give him back!”

“nuh-uh,” the boy retorted, raising it up above his head so you can’t reach it, “that’s what you get for sitting on our swing!”

you then shove at the boy, crying out, “i said give him back!”

“back off, girlie!” another boy said, shoving you back with a harder force, causing you to fall back onto the ground of the playground.

as the boys walked away with your bear plush, leaving you to cry on the ground. they tossed it around, occasionally dropping it on the floor and purposefully stepping on the poor plush, later on acting as if they didn’t mean to do so. witnessing the boys’ treatment towards your plush,  you pulled your knees to your chest, hugging it as your cries grew louder.

“___?” a worried seungcheol called out.

crouching down in front of you, seungcheol places a hand on your head, gently petting it in an attempt to comfort you. “___, what happened? why are you crying? are you hurt anywhere?” you attempted to answer him. but, due to your crying, you had a hard time forming words, only letting out harsh pants and whimpers.

“easy there, ___,” seungcheol said softly, “take a deep breath, okay?”

when your crying calmed down, the older boy heard the laughters of the group of boys. turning his head towards their direction, he saw them taking turns throwing a plush bear at each other. seungcheol recognised the plush bear - it was the very same plush he had gifted you on your 7th birthday.

he then turned back to you, noticing that you were looking at the group with a frown on your face. pressing his thumb against your forehead, he gave you a gentle smile, “don’t frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

turning back to the group, he let out a sigh, “they took your bear?”

you sniffled as you nod your head, wiping the snot from your nose with the sleeves of your hoodie. “do you want me to get it back for you?”

“p-please…”

nodding his head, seungcheol got back up on his feet, ruffling your hair before making his way towards the group of boys.

“hey, you rascals over there!” he called out.

you don’t know why, but you felt your heart race, a small blush forming on your face.

after seungcheol had gotten your bear plush back from the group of boys (mainly by scaring them off because imagine an older, taller boy approaching you with a scary look after talking to the girl whose bear you had snatched), he walked you back to your house.

as his parents were out working, it wasn’t unusual for seungcheol to spend some time at your place with your parents as he waited for his to return home. sitting beside you on the porch of the backyard of your back garden, seungcheol was eating a piece of brownie your mom had baked while you enjoyed a cone of vanilla ice cream.

“you need to learn to stand up for yourself, ___,” seungcheol spoke, placing the now empty plate next to him and looked at you. “but, i have you to protect me!” you responded with a smile on your face, earning a small laugh from the boy. “i know, ___. but, i can’t always be there for you.”

“d-does this mean you’re leaving me…?” you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. “oh, ___,” seungcheol said softly as he places a hand on your head, “that’s not what i mean. i meant it as in, there will be times where i can’t always be with you. you remind me of a puppy,” he chuckled. “maybe that can be a nickname for you, hmm?”

when your eyes light up and nod excitedly at the older boy, he lets out another laugh and ruffles your hair.

“alright then, pup.”

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

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[skeletonapricationday]

Naughty girl

Warnings: Porn w/o plot, fem reader x nanami, deephthroating, face fucking, angry Kento, use if whore.

18+ minors dni

Nanami stared as you bent over the desk, looking for your lost pen. You had it five seconds ago, you kept swearing that up and down. It was frustrating because you were distracting him from his work.

Nanami wasn't a very sexual man. He lived to work and go home, that was it. Simple and sweet. Yet he was still a man at the end of the day. Seeing you bend over in that skirt, scrambling all around his office for your pen. It was troubling. He sighs and stands.

"If I promise to help you look will you leave my office?" He says in a gruff. His deep voice echoing off the walls.

"Yes sir-e!" You say excitedly and innocently. "I swear I used it yesterday to help you with that report. Now its missing, like missing missing." You say with a small pout. That cute quiver of your lip catching his vision. He tilts his head away, trying to ignore you.

"Why can't I just give you one of my pens?" He says exasperated.

"Because you also gave me this pen, so it's my favorite pen. No other pen will feel the same!" You shout confidently and annoyingly.

"If you like that one so much because I gave it to you, why not just let me give you a new one? You make no sense." He says logically, as always. Yet this wasn't about logic. He gave you this pen two years ago, when you finally cracked a thin layer of his hard shell. It was a sign of friendship and good faith, you were not going to give up on this.

"Because-because I want this specific pen okay." You say emrbassed. Not at all willing to admit the true reason to the logic king himself.

He nods slowly, like he wasn't going to bother arguing further. Simply scanning a bookshelf, seeing if you mistakenly placed it there. He swears to himself that the intelligent woman yesterday who helped him fill out that report is the same scatterbrain currently looking for her pen. Obliviously showing her body off in several interesting positions.

You slowly get onto your hands and knees, sticking a hand under the couch. Seeing if you can feel anything underneath. When you don't you arch your hips up further to keep yourself from slipping, as you peep your head underneath. "It's dark and dusty under here. I always thought you had too much OCD to not dust under the couch." You tease playfully. Just trying to joke with the serious man, like normal.

"Shut up and stop looking under there." You here the blank reply from behind you.

"No need to get so defensive. Of course this place isn't going to be sparkly clean, you work too much. Yknow I really respect that about-" You squeak as you're cut off. Your ankle being grapped, forcibly pulled from under the couch.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" He asks, using your ankle to flip you onto your back. "Or do I have to shout." The last half is also a question, yet he says it like a statement. His voice always cold and callous, despite his actual kind nature.

You blush at how strong he was. It was juxtaposition to your strength. Enough cursed energy to be a sorcerer compared to normal humans, but so weak you had to be an assistant. "Nanami...this position is a bit...interesting?" You say softly and confused.

"And your last position wasn't?" He drops your ankle. Giving you a chance to slowly rise up, sitting on your knees emrbassed. "If you're going to wear a skirt, please be self aware." He states simply.

Wait, what did he mean by that. Suddenly your whole face flushes, realizing you've been flaunting your ass. Basically putting yourself on display.

Nanami clears his throat, surprisingly loosening his tie a bit. Rubbing the side of his face annoyed and...flushed.

"Look I'm sorry...I just didn't think about it." You say shyly, biting your bottom lip. As much as you dreamed of Nanami lustfully gazing at your backside, you never meant to accidently do it. In your fantasy it was always purposful, taking advantage of his cold demeanor by turning him on. This was not a fantasy, you're right in front of him.

He stares down at you and sighs. "Come on, up off your knees." He says softly. That sentence makes you discretly clench your thighs. Imagining those words in a different scenario. You look at his offered hand and take it, slowly standing with his help.

"You didn't do it on purpose, it's okay." He's say in a coo, almost like he felt bad.

"What if I did?" You ask, surprising even yourself. You didn't do this on purpose, why did you say that? More importantly, why didn't you stop yourself?

"What?" You hear by your side. Looking at his stern face. Waiting for digust to roll in, hell maybe he'll even shout. Tell you to get out of his office, even worse maybe fire you.

Suddenly he laughs. Gripping onto the side of his desk...laughing. "You have alot of nerve." He says walking over to you. Raising a hand to your face. You expect the sting of a slap, but instead he squishes your cheeks together. "Cause then I'd call you an attention seeking whore." He tsks his tongue and smiles. An annoyed grin, faux politeness despite his harsh words.

"I-uhm- sorry I didn't really mean-" The pressure of his grip grows. Stopping you mid sentence.

"I won't hear any of your excuses." He pushes you against his desk, the table digging into the back of your thighs. A small patch of arousal staining your underwear. "In fact I'll reward you."

"What?" You say confused, knitting your brows. He lets out a small cold huff. Slipping his hand from your chin to down your throat. Softly rubbing the side of your neck.

"If your goal was to provoke me- it worked." His other free hand grabs yours. Pressing it against his thigh. You feel his hot throbbing length struggling not to reveal itself. "Do you know how hard it is trying to keep my dick tucked while helping you look around?" He coos to you. His fingers wrap around yours, causing you to the feel the entirety of his girth. "C'mon don't be shy now."

"Is that really...wow." You say breathlessly. The huge thing in your hand really was his cock. Straining against his professional trousers. "Why didn't you say anything?" You say softly. Gripping it curiously with your fingers, earning a soft groan from him.

"Its not exactly professional to hit on your assistant...also a tad too clichéd." He replies honestly. Running the hand on your neck down to your skirt. Flipping it up and letting out a soft pleased sigh. "I'm not one for business and pleasure but, this damned skirt." He chuckles softly. Rubbing your left thigh, watching it jiggle in response. "God it gets me rock hard."

You shiver at his touch. His hands warm against your thigh, but the heat of your aching cunt is hotter. "Nanami..." You whisper his name out softly.

He tsks his tongue in response. "I got my hand up your skirt, call me Kento." He leans in and kisses your neck softly, nibbling at the soft flesh. His hot breath sending goosebumps. "Kay'?" He whispers into your ear.

You nod softly. Letting out small sounds of pleasure as his lips travel across your throat. "Kento please your hand...it can go further than my thigh."You squeak out. Hoping the muscular man gets the message.

"Oh I know...but you've been naughty. Why would I give you what you want?" He coos backing away from you. Even pulling your hand away from his dick. "It be more punishing to leave you a dripping wet needy mess." He says with a smirk. A thing you never expected to see on his face. The pure unbridled joy he has in teasing you. Getting revenge for your two years of oblivious actions.

He smiles at you and sits back down in his desk chair. Going back to reviewing his documents despite your whines of protest. "Kento please.." You say walking behind his chair. Wrapping your arms around him, hands splayed across his chest. Rubbing the hard planes of muscle. "I don't even have to feel good, I just wanna feel you." You tempt into his ear. Kissing underneath it. He huff in response and expertly pulls your hands off his chest.

"I'd stop now. Bad girls get punished." He speaks sternly. Not at all humoring you. You don't listen and walk to the front of his chair, dropping to your knees, rubbing your face against his thigh. He finally lets go of his document. "Do you really want it that bad?" He coos softly. Like a false sense of security.

You nod against his thigh, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze. He gives you an evil smile, one that sends shivers down your spine. He undoes his belt buckle, tugging his pants and boxers to free himself. His huge length standing proudly at attention. "Go on pretty girl." He says brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. "Give it a taste." He says smiling.

You listen excitedly. Falling right into his trap as your lips curl around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head down after swirling your tongue around his tip. A pleasnt salty bead of precum meeting your tongue. You can only fit half of him in your mouth, even without a gag reflex the pure girth was already stretching your jaw. He throws his head back and groans. "Finally...a way to shut you up." He says happily, almost relaxed.

His hand curls into your hair, gripping it at the base. Successfully pulling your hair out of your way. A part of you was about to mention how sweet it was until. He grips hard and slams your head down, painfully making you take the rest of him down your throat. Your nose pressed against the soft curls of his pubes. A small surprised gag leaves your lips. "Oh darling don't you remember. You've been naughty, and naughty girls get what?" He asks you. He looks down at you amused for a second. Using his hand to pull you up and down on him. Small tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "I forgot, can't talk with your mouth full can you?" He laughs and groans. The two sounds like music to your ears.

This was gonna be a harsh night.

[kuni-is-daddy]

✦Dom!Fatui Scaramouche x Human Fem!Reader please? <3 IF YOU DO THIS I'LL LOVE YOU SM (because there's not that many fatui scaramouche smut..☹️) MWAHH THANK YOUUU,✦

☐☐☐

✦Dom! Fatui scaramouche x Human Fem! Reader✦

://ToyPlay!Teasing,M/tingPress Word Count: 1k.

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Cw: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!

Scara's private Library was your favorite place within the palace. It was wonderful, A comfy sofa next to a small table lamp and bookshelf, Along with a cozy fireplace practically suited for nice naps and organizing your thoughts. Unfortunately, You we're stuck with the little 'gift' he's given you, As you we're about to grab a book a sudden buzz shocked through your lower body "Ah~!" Your hand covered your mouth. That jerk was trying to catch you off guard. "Mnh..Oh god~" Your teeth bit hard into your hand, Biting at the gold ring mistakenly...

Your thighs pressed together for stimulation, Pushing the toy deeper along your walls. It was nothing close to his size, And archons was it a tease. "Ugh~ F-fuck kuni..This-ah stupid toy.." Its not like He was far away ~ The whole floor was designated His Chambers, He was 2 doors away~! But of course that sadistic puppet wouldnt let you off easily.

Sighing, you stumbled into his office. "Huh. Its barely been an hour and look at you..So needy to rush for my help? Or have you come to try another one of your pathetic little tricks?" He took a small object off his desk and shoved it into his pocket. You greeted him with silence and tried your hardest to not glare his way while approaching him Scara lightly smirked, Just what was going on in that head of yours? He thought. But whatever it was, He knew it was about him and him only. His legs unpropped, Welcoming you into his lap. Obediently you sat on his lap, and He grabbed you by your chin, squishing your face as if you perked up for him. Your eyes never parted from his deceiving looks, He pressed closer against your body, his erection twitched in his pants. "I didnt rush for your hel-AH!~" Another wave of pleasure cut through your rambling as he turned the toy on again. You sunk your head into his shoulder, weakly covering your moans. "With that lying tongue of yours, I expected you to last a little longer." Scara left the toy on as his hand left his pocket, Trailing his hand to your waist then down your thighs and under your dress

"You enjoyed yourself yeah? Is my little princess, okay?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to see your face but couldnt. Your sleeve started to coat damp while covering your mouth, Scara groped your ass tighter, Shifting around on the couch. But you stayed silent, knowing he was already at his wits end with his Boring job.

He huffed "If you keep playing shy I'll keep you like this. Sitting on my lap while I work and you Whimper like a pleading Bitch For me to fuck you." You mumbled in response, And scara finally hooked his hand on your hair. "Mn mn! N-no Scara.. H-help me please! I cant- It hurts~!" Scara grinned, But continued His act. "Oh~ Where does it hurt Love?" "T-th the toy fuck~! I wanna cum scara~! please!" Your clothed clit rutted back and forth against his lap, now desperately grinding on his pants for release. "You really are a slut. But fine~ Ill tend to you for a bit."

Scaramouche picked you up, Then propped you on the nearest surface he could, His Couch with your sprawled under him. He took off your dress; Before you could lay properly Scara pressed his lips onto yours with his knee inbetween your thigh again, Pressing the vibrator further against your wet bud. Your tongue mushed with his, While your moans directly muffled throughout the kiss. The balladeer was hungry, If you weren't going to come back to the bedroom, He was sure to fuck you In the library, Pushing the books off the table while holding your legs up for comfort with your skin slapping on his. You began patting at his back and scara finally parted the kiss, Your body was on fire with your lips glossy from his saliva. Scara turned his attention down to your legs parting them properly and touching at the wetspot in your panties. "Just look how wet you are. This pretty pussy has been missing my cock this much?" With his index and middle digits Scara pulled your garment down slightly, Then inserted his fingers into your gushing wet hole "Y-yes Scara~! Hn I want more~!" You moaned out his name, Head shooting back a bit after he removed the buzzing vibrator, quickly replacing it with his digits scissoring your folds. With his free hand, Scara began undoing his belt. "More? You want my cock? Does my pretty little wife want to get fucked now Like the slut she is?" "Please~! Please fuck me with your cock~!"

Scara pulled down his pants and stained boxers, His shaft immediately sprung out with your eyes looking eagerly. He bit on his sleeveless gloves hard, spitting them off his hands, then lining himself up into your entrance, He was so horny and couldnt even take a moment to smear some of your juices on his tip. Scara pushed himself Balls deep into your Pussy, immediately hitting your G spot and earning a sweet moan from your lips, He leaned down properly, completely folding your legs towards your shoulders in a mating press, It was a dirty position, But on the small couch scara wanted You warming his hard cock as much as you could. Scara let out a sharp sigh before Thrusting himself inside you again at a slow pace, Your pussy clomped down on his cock, Squeezing him inbetween your velvet Wet walls. "Ah shit your so tight! God-FUCK!" He hissed but dug his own face into your shoulder, Sucking tight on your skin leading up from your collar bones "F-faster kuni please~! Fuck me faster!" You pleaded and Kuni Thrusted into you harder and harder Until a bulge from his cock enveloped in your tummy. "Yeah you like that? Want me to breed you? Do you want my seed?" "F-fuck yes scara!" You continued moaning out for him, Either using his alias or his true name you didnt care, All you wanted was for his hot and creamy seed to fill you up as he wanted.

"Yes yes yes~! Mn kuni! Im close! im gonna cum!" Reaching your orgasm, Your juices squirted onto his chest, Some dreaning on his cock, While even a little bit on the couch. "You dirty slut Squirting like that on my Ah~!" You wrapped your legs around him tightly, Pulling him off your blooming hickeys and now on your lips to make out with him again. Now the puppet was beginning to feel overwhelmed, A heated purple emitting in his pupils of his messy black and red clashed eyeliner, Fuck he was gonna cum. "Just like that Y/n~! Im g'nna get you pregnant love Oh shit~!" Kuni thrusted into you two more times before slamming him cock inside you, Burying himself as deep as he could while ropes of his white liquid rushed into your womb.

A/N: I hope this was well done for you anon :) Thank you for reading!

[moondustpugh]

Guilty as Sin?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: They said there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.

Author's Note: Honestly, I just wanted a reason to write smut atp when it came to this LMAO. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 2.6K

Disclaimer: 18+, smut, MINORS DNI

part one - part two

Laughter echoed down the hall as Joe pulled you close to him. His lips couldn’t get away from you since you two had arrived at his flat building. You laughed softly through the kiss as you both stumbled down the hall and Joe’s hands were fumbling in his pockets, trying to find his key. Pulling away from the kiss, he groaned softly when he couldn’t find his key.

“Hold on, darling.” He smiled as you set your hand on his chest.

As he looked through his pockets, you kissed the line of his jaw, making him fumble and flustered even more. You let out a soft approving hum as you kissed his neck softly.

“Look who’s all flustered now.” You murmured, softly sucking his skin.

“Darling, you’re not making this any easier.” He gave up on searching for his keys as he grabbed you by your wrists and pinned you against his front door, kissing you deeply. 

You moaned softly as he pressed his body against yours. “You have to keep quiet. My neighbors are already asleep.” 

Just like that, he reached his hand in his coat pocket again and finally found the key. Pulling away from you, he unlocked his door and took your hand, dragging you inside his place. You smiled as you studied his place for a moment, while Joe slid his coat off. You haven’t been here for a while, and you noticed that he decorated the place a little better. It used to just have empty white walls. Now, there was a bookshelf and paintings on the wall. The one thing that caught your eyes was the frame that was in his hallway. It was a big frame with a picture of you, Sara, Wes, Jared, Laura and Joe. It was your whole friend group. 

You couldn’t help but admire it. It was one of your favorite photos of the group. Feeling Joe’s presence behind you, he brushed your hair away from your shoulder before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“This is new.” You smiled at the picture. 

Joe hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin set against your shoulder. “Just put it up when I got back a few days ago.”

“It’s nice.” You turned to face him, his hand cupping your cheek. “I love that picture of us.”

Joe’s brown eyes sparkled as he studied your soft facial features. He didn’t say anything but the look on his face was saying so much. The way he was staring at you. He never looked at you that way before. 

“You know,” You cleared your throat. “You have been running in my mind too.”

A grin tugged on Joe’s face as he raised a brow at you, stepping back a little bit to fully look at you. Investigating your expression if you were actually telling him the truth. 

“Oh?” He grinned playfully.. 

You felt your cheeks flushed as you chuckled softly, leaning against his touch. Joe laughed softly, pulling you in his arms. He knew exactly what you meant by that, and he couldn’t help but squeeze you softly in his arms, reassuring that your thoughts were fine. 

That you weren’t the only one who also was thinking the same. 

“There it is again.” He said. “You’re so adorable when you’re all flustered.”

“It’s embarrassing.” You murmured on his chest. 

“Oh, darling. It’s fine.” Joe grinned. “Can’t deny the fact that maybe I also have been thinking the same.”

You gazed up at him, as Joe cupped your face between his hands, leaning down to kiss you softly. You let out a soft hum, smiling through the kiss. You were literally melting in his arms as he pulled you close, and you couldn’t help but think how this was something you could never imagine. 

This feeling. 

All of this. 

It was all so much to take in, and you didn’t know if your heart could still fit in your chest. Pulling away from the kiss, Joe took your hand and led you towards his bedroom. This was the first time you ever saw his private space. A king size bed in the middle of his room, two bedside tables on either side with a lamp on top. A walk-in closet on the left side, and a little desk on the right side of his room. It was spacious, but he was able to make it look so cozy. 

“It’s so… organized.” You smiled as you felt his hands on your hips. 

He slowly turned you around to face him, “I’m barely home, that’s why.”

“Unfortunately.” You joked. 

“I’d love to take you with me whenever I can.” Joe said.

“No,” You shook your head. “I want you to focus on your job. Don’t worry about me. It’s okay, really. I understand.” 

“Are you sure? I know my schedule is crazy.” 

“Joe, I understand your job.” You reassured him. “I know what I’m getting into.”

“And that’s why I love you.” 

Your body suddenly was paralyzed when you heard those three little words escaped Joe’s lips. He did admit to you tonight that he loved you, but he never actually said those three little words until now. It was three little words that meant too much. 

Three little words that made your heart swell. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Joe realized what he just said. “I didn’t mean to freak you out like that—”

“No,” You cut him off. “I love you too.” 

Pressing his lips on yours, he pulled your body against his as you kissed him deeply and hungrily. His hands on your hips gripped you tighter as you ran your fingers through his hair. For a moment, Joe kissed you passionately, and his hands ran down to your sides before he inserted them under your shirt. A soft gasp escaped from you through the kiss as he felt your warm skin under his touch. This was something that you never thought would actually happen to you. The dreams that you had weren't anything like this at all.

It was better.

Joe continued kissing you lovingly as he slowly led you towards his bed. The back of your knees found the edge of his bed as he pulled away from the kiss and gently and slowly laid you down. His knees dug on the mattress on both sides of your thighs as he towered over you, a smile tugging on his lips. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt and started unbuttoning them, Joe helping you with it and slipped it off his broad shoulders. Your eyes immediately studied his naked body in front of you and all you could think of was:

He was so beautiful.

So gorgeous.

Almost unreal. 

Joe watched as your hands gently caressed his bare chest, and you leaned in to press soft kisses all over it. Joe carefully closed his eyes, smiling through every kiss that you left in his body. It was almost like a dream to him as he found his fingers tangled in your hair. Then, your lips trailed up to his neck and on the line of his jaw before finding his lips again with yours. A soft moan escaped from him as he pulled your shirt over your head and threw them on the floor with the rest of his clothes. Soon, your bra was gone too, and you were completely naked in front of him. 

You felt your cheeks flushed as you covered your chest with your arms, and Joe immediately pulled away from the kiss, staring at you.

“You’re so beautiful, darling.” He whispered, gently taking your arms off your chest. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re literally the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His lips pressed a soft kiss on your forehead as you felt your cheeks heat up even more. Joe chuckled softly, cupping your face between his hands and gave you a small quick peck on the lips. 

“You’re so cute.” He murmured, pressing his face on your neck. “So smart.” He pressed a kiss on your neck. “So beautiful.” Another kiss on your collarbone. “Stunning.” Pressed a kiss on your chest. 

A breathless gasp escaped from you as his mouth found your nipple and sucked on it softly. You arched your back as his hands ran down your back and down to your sides. He continued to suck your nipple, making you squirm under his touch as his fingers played with the other one. Your hands tugged softly on his soft brown curls as he pulled away and trailed feather light kisses down your stomach. 

“Joe.” You whispered his name, only for him to grin even more.

The sound of his name escaping your lips was like music in his ears, and he wanted to hear more. He wanted to hear you make all the sounds that you have never made just for him. He left repeated soft kisses just on the bottom of your torso before his lips found your inner thighs. Another gasp escaped from you, and you could practically feel yourself trembling from how much you wanted him. 

“Joe, please.” You begged. 

“Easy, darling.” He smiled, kissing your inner thigh. “I want to learn all of you.”

You moaned softly, your eyes closing as you felt your head spin from all the heated kisses that left your skin on fire every time. Joe used his palm to open your legs even more and paused for a moment, gazing up at you. 

“Joe.” You said sternly, opening your eyes. 

“You’re so wet for me, darling.” He said, pressing a kiss on your wet clit, knowing it would just make you squirm even more.

Then, he moved up to you again, towering over you and pressed a kiss on your ear and whispered, “Tell me about those thoughts.”

“What?” You gazed up at him. 

“What did I do?” He smiled, kissing down your neck.

“Joe, please.” You pleaded. “Don’t make me do this.”

Joe smiled through your skin before his fingers found your clit, rubbing it softly and letting you moan out his name again. 

“Was it like this?” He asked, pressing on your sensitive spot. 

“Yes.” You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

Joe continued to rub your wet clit as he kissed you passionately, both of you moaning each other’s name. Your head was spinning, and you could practically feel Joe’s member hard between your legs as he inserted a finger inside of you. Your hands turned into a fist under the sheets as you arched your back, feeling Joe’s finger pumped inside of you deeper and faster. You were out of breath, your legs were trembling. Joe had gone down on you, his finger still pumping inside of you before taking it out and replaced it with his mouth. 

“Ah—!” A scream caught on your throat, your fingers finding his hair again. 

His tongue licked your sensitive spot until you were so close to scream his name, but you had clamped a hand over your mouth as pleasure built up inside of you. 

“Joe, stop. Stop.” You panted heavily. “I need you, please.”

“No, darling. Come for me.” He whispered as he sucked and licked your clit until your legs were trembling. 

You were trying your best to hold in the orgasm that was about to wash over you, but Joe kept going until you shattered right all over his mouth. You breathed heavily, throwing your head back on the pillow. Beads of sweat covered your forehead as you closed your eyes and felt Joe’s lips on yours. You felt him smile through the kiss as he slowly inserted himself inside your tight walls. A moan from you was muffled by his passionate kisses as he thrusted inside of you slowly. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Joe buried his face on your neck, quickening his pace and small groans escaping from him.

“Shit, fuck!” You cursed under your breath, your nails digging on the skin of his back. 

Joe let out breathless gasps as he moved deeper inside of you and thrusted faster. He slid his hands under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips as he continued. 

“Come here.” You panted, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Kissing you hungrily, Joe could feel your walls tightening around him as he groaned your name. You couldn’t even describe the feeling that you had, hearing your name like that escape from him. Your head was spinning, your vision was seeing stars as you scratched your nails down his back. You were making sounds that you didn’t know you could make before, and you have forgotten the world around you. You have forgotten your name as Joe thrusted deeper and kept continuing to hit you on the right spot. 

“Fuck, darling.” He cursed under his breath. “You’re so tight.”

“Don’t… stop.” You buried your face on his shoulder as you closed your eyes. 

You could feel the pleasure building up in your stomach as you flipped the both of you over on the bed and thrusted Joe inside of you faster. Your hands were holding onto the headboard, while Joe’s hands had found your hips. His mouth had found your nipple again as you moaned his name, throwing your head back. 

“That’s it, darling. Come for me.” Joe murmured, quickening his thrusts.

After a few more seconds, you finally let go, both of your moans echoing through the walls of his room as waves crashed over and pleasure took over the both of you. Breathing heavily, Joe slowed his thrusts as you collapsed on top of him in his arms. 

“I love you.” Joe whispered, stroking your hair and brushing it away from your face. 

“I love you.” You murmured as he finally pulled himself out of you and covered the both of you with the duvet. 

Reeling you in his arms, Joe pressed a soft kiss on your hair as you both tried to catch your breaths. You could barely open your eyes, and you could barely feel your legs as Joe held you close in his arms. 

You hummed softly, wrapping an arm around his torso and buried your face on his chest. 

“You’re… amazing.” You smiled. 

“Speak for yourself.” Joe chuckled softly.

The feeling of his fingers stroking your hair was making you sleepy, but you kept telling yourself to stay awake. To enjoy this moment with him. This moment that you literally been dreaming of. The conversation you had with Sara earlier had returned back into your mind, thinking about your feelings with Joe. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being in love with Joe this whole time. The constant fights and arguments just so you could prove him wrong. The constant spark between the both of you that you kept ignoring because this whole time, you thought maybe Joe really just didn’t like you at all. 

It turned out to be the opposite. 

“I’m guilty of denying this spark between us.” You said, barely opening your eyes and gazing up at him. “I really thought you just hated me so much.”

“Hate you?” Joe smiled. “How could anyone hate you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that way. I overdo it sometimes.” Joe shook his head. “Seeing you blush… you have no idea what it does to me.”

“Hm…” You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Now, I do.”

Joe sat up on the bed, pulling you on his lap as you lay your head on his shoulder. You could barely move, feeling exhausted after what just happened.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, caressing your bare arm.

You shook your head and said, “Just tired.”

“Well, get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Joe smiled, kissing your head. 

Closing your eyes, you let sleep take over you, peacefully knowing that tomorrow Joe was going to be here next to you. No more dreams that made you feel guilty and created a knot in your stomach as you thought about it. 

This time, everything was real. 

And not only that, Joe loves you too. 

The End.

************

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf

[corpsebasil]

Second in Command Part 2 18+

part 1

The entire crew had gone off to a tavern when you docked, the workers at the pier saying that the upkeep to the ship would only take a couple of hours. So you found yourself slightly drunk, watching Tolya and the Sun Summoner’s tracker friend as they linked arms and danced around, laughing and singing along to the rather raunchy bar song the occupants sang.

“How do you think he managed to get that hat?” Nikolai asked against the shell of your ear, eyeing the pirate hat that sat on the prized Grisha’s friend’s head.

“Beats me. At least it covers his lack of hair from my sight.” You shivered comically and Nikolai let out a boyish laugh, tightening his hold on you.

Your captain and you leaned together against the wall, your back to his chest, and you would be lying if you said the way his fingers ran softly back and forth against the slip of skin revealed by your shirt, his hand running across your midriff, was unpleasant. You almost jumped when his hand slipped completely under your shirt, palm resting flat against your lower stomach and tugging you closer to him.

“People are going to stare.” You whispered, but blushed when he propped his chin on your head, his eyes closing blissfully at the feel of you. He’d wanted this for weeks, had wanted to hold you since you’d shamelessly put him in his place days after you met, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to bask in every second of touching you that you allowed.

“Let them stare.” He said, and his other arm wrapped around your middle, holding you tight.

“You two,” a female voice said, and his eyes opened to see Tamar approaching with a glass of red wine in her hand. The rest of the crew had been drinking piss poor ale, but somehow you and Tamar had been mainlining vodka sodas and wine like it was your job. “are fucking adorable.”

“Don’t fuel his ego,” you quipped, and his smile grew when your hands came up to hold his arm, settling even closer into his chest. “it’s big enough as it is.”

Tamar’s head shook and she raised her glass in a gesture that meant cheers, before she tossed you a wink and moved to hunt down her brother and stop him from embarrassing her more than he already had.

“Want to get out of here?” Nikolai asked, removing his hand from your stomach and turning you in his arms, pulling your chest flush against his.

“And do what, Captain?” You teased. Saints, the drinks must’ve gone straight to your head. Just last night you had been adamant about keeping the two of you a secret, and now you were draped against him in front of the entire crew.

He grinned lazily, leaning in to brush a chaste kiss against your mouth.

“If I recall,” he said, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “you owe me a lingerie viewing.”

“A fashion show, perhaps? Try on my favorite sets and parade them in front of you?”

“It’s been my fantasy for months, darling.”

You giggled stupidly as he smiled, his gorgeous, gorgeous face only a few inches from yours, then yelped when he scooped you up bridal style and bid a loud, careless Goodnight to the crew. Your face turned red when someone wished him luck, riotous laugher echoing around the tavern, but your embarrassment faded the moment you two moved into the night and he set you on your feet.

“Ignore them.” He said, rolling his eyes at the tavern door, and then kissed you, your skin burning as you forgot to be ashamed at being so obviously on your way to his bed.

-

To Nikolai’s dismay, the lingerie fashion show did not end up happening. Instead, he watched from his bed, expression twisted in embarrassment as you snooped around his room, lingering by his bookshelf.

“Oh my god, you’re nasty.” You cackled, picking up a novel that he’d finished only a week ago. “‘Edmund’s mouth moved down her neck, licking and sucking her unblemished skin before his lips closed around her ni—‘”

“That’s enough, thank you.” Nikolai sighed, face red. You’d been reading bits from his rather interesting book collection for over five minutes now, your smile growing wider and wider as you scanned the pages, somehow managing to find the filthiest chapters and completely ignoring the very romantic parts. “It’s a love story. They’re in love.”

“You’re just as dirty as I am, Captain.” You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. “Oh wait, I think I’ve read this one.” You picked up another book and cleared your throat, ignoring him when he climbed out of bed and strode over to you. “‘Meredith let out a loud moan when the prince—‘”

“End it. Please.” He groaned, yanking the novel out of your hands and pulling you towards his bed.

“I think she says those exact words about a paragraph down.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m not fucking you. I’m going to make Tamar my second, and you can swim with the fishes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would dare. Try me, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you shoved him down and straddled him, pushing his coat off his shoulders. He shrugged it off, tossing it carelessly aside, then tugged your mouth down to his. He let out a soft groan when your fingers slipped into his hair, your nails scratching lightly.

“Shirt.” He mumbled, reaching for your hem. “Off.”

Your head spun as you obliged, letting him run his hands up your smooth back and waist. He looked down at you admiringly before removing his own shirt, and you almost choked at the sight of him bare in front of you.

“Saints, how many push-ups do you do a day?” You grumbled, one brow raised, and he let out a soft laugh.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m naturally this stunning?”

“Yeah. Sure.” You lied, then squeaked when he rolled you over, pinning you under him as one hand moved to your pant buttons. Your heartbeat quickened, faster and faster as he slid your trousers off and tossed them to the floor. But when his fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear you shot up, grabbing his wrist. “Wait, um—” You swallowed. “Before we do anything, I haven’t..” You looked away, embarrassed, and cringed a bit when Nikolai moved off the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, voice soft, as he slipped his own pants off and turned the lights out, climbing under the covers. “get in bed with me. It’s fine.”

“I’m nervous.” You admitted, cheeks heating at the gentle expression on his face. Why did he have to look so sweet when you were confessing something so lame. But you moved under the blankets, allowing him to kiss your mouth, then your forehead.

Then he moved your back against his broad chest, both arms around your waist as you settled up close to him, your head resting against the curve of his shoulder. His lips brushed your hair when he spoke, the sensation making you shiver.

“I’m going to go slow.” He murmured, and your stomach twisted at the roughness of his voice. You swallowed and nodded wordlessly, feeling him adjust enough to slide yours, then his, underwear off the two of you. “I need you to curve into me a bit more.” He said, running a hand over your bare hip, and you gasped a bit when you felt him against your entrance.

He made no move to push inside you, only massaged the skin at your hip and upper thigh, turning his head so that he could place soft kisses onto your neck. And when his hand wrapped around your front and gently stroked you, you almost whined.

“It might be uncomfortable. At first.” He told you, gathering your wetness onto his fingers as he gently worked them inside, getting you adjusted to the feel of it. You’d done this to yourself before, but his hands were bigger, and the stretch made you gasp and press your face against his arm. “You feel fantastic.” He sighed, curling his fingers deeper, and you let out a soft moan of pleasure.

Nikolai gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to slam up into you, but took his time like he’d promised, working you closer and closer until you were trembling, grinding against him, mumbling his name against his skin. He circled his fingers against the most sensitive part of you, closing his eyes and biting back a groan when you came, your face pressed against his shoulder as you gasped his name.

When you’d gotten your breath back he kissed your neck again, his hand still rubbing that spot. You whined and wriggled away, letting out a noise of complaint, and he huffed a laugh.

“Nikolai,” you mumbled, turning your head to kiss his arm. “I want you.”

Those words might’ve been the best things you’d ever said to him. So he looped his arm under your thigh, keeping your back to his chest as you curved against him, and slowly pushed the head of him inside. You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, practically panting as his other hand continued to rub slow, soft circles against your skin, and he pushed forward inch by inch, letting you adjust.

Once he was fully inside, hips flush against your back, you slowly gasped for air, the feeling of complete and utter fullness making breathing difficult. He kissed your neck and ran his thumb over your leg, whispering to you as he pulled out and slowly, so slowly, moved back in.

“You okay?” He asked, voice sleepy and soft as he moved. You could only sigh, rocking back against him as he kept up a languid, gentle pace, every stroke making his head spin and his chest tighten. “Saints, you feel—” he groaned and pressed his forehead against your neck, increasing his pace by a degree, earning a noise from you that made his blood pressure rise.

“Nik,” you breathed, gripping his arm. “want you…on top of me.” Your voice was strained as he pulled away and moved over you, thrusting back in with enough force to make you gasp, your nails digging into his back. “Nik.”

“Y/N.” Was his weak response, and you took his face into your hands, kissing him sweetly. It took every ounce of composure to hold back but, when he felt you tremble underneath him, your grip tightening on a whimper, he broke, biting back a groan as his mouth sucked on the skin of your neck.

You laid there in the silence, both catching your breath, before you finally calmed, running your hands through his hair and over his neck and back.

“That was—” Nikolai swallowed and pulled away, rolling over and closing his eyes for a moment. “Good gods, Y/N.”

“Mhmm.” You mumbled sleepily, turning on your side to wrap around him. He was so warm, and his body was perfect, and you felt yourself slipping into a dream filled trance as his lips kissed the top of your head.

“My love.” You heard him sigh, and your heart warmed as you finally fell asleep.

-

The next morning, after showering and washing up, you slipped on one of Nikolai’s oversized shirts and headed down to breakfast, running a hand over your tired face as you went. He was already seated at the table, boot propped up on the chair beside him, and you smiled shyly when he moved his leg at your approach.

“Good morning, darling.” He said, eyes sparkling with mischief as you walked over to him. “And whose shirt might that be? He must be devilishly handsome to win your heart.”

“Yours.” You murmured, still feeling half asleep, and didn’t truly consider what you were doing before you gave him a soft kiss and sat down, propping your head against his shoulder. Lord he smelled good. You made a mental note to make sure his cologne was constantly stocked from now on.

He looped an arm around your waist immediately, going back to his conversation with Tolya, but the man could only gape at his captain and friend in surprise.

“When did that happen?” He asked, pointing to the both of you, and your face warmed.

“I’ve been telling you this for weeks.” Tamar argued, shooting you a grin. “Idiot. For a hopeless romantic you sure can’t recognize it when its under your nose.”

“I find romance to be more noticeable when it’s under you.” Nikolai teased, earning a pinch from you in response. “Woman, don’t injure me. I’m fragile.”

“Sure you are.” You grinned, allowing him to pull you closer into his side, and your heart softened further when he pushed his plate towards you and offered you some of his own breakfast.

Hello hellllllooooo ladies and gentlemen I hope you liked this one! Make sure to send me the nastiest filthiest most horrendous requests you possibly can because I am up for it!

Also if anyone has some comedic plot lines I’d love to flex my skills at humor thank you and goodnight <3

[hephaestn]

in nomine patris — priest billy hargrove/priest steve harrington. 5k. explicit read on ao3 | beta'd by @bigdumbbambieyes | for @harringrovekinktober

He liked the quietness of the late afternoons, the echo of his shoes against the marbled floors, the coolness that embraced him in the empty nave.

Steve was going to miss this place. It was no cathedral, not even a big church, but it was majestic enough—high, arched ceilings and large stained glass windows, imagery and paintings on almost every wall, and his favorite place of them all: the mighty altar.

He couldn’t believe it had been almost four years in this place; getting to know the town, its people, their secrets.

Steve had found faith at a young age. He felt lost in the world back then, without a tangible, real purpose, and God offered him just that. There was a peace in his chest he had never had before he’d become a man of faith—it fulfilled him, made him feel whole, like there had never been anything wrong with him.

As he rounded the altar on his way to his office, he heard a rumble coming from within. Steve frowned—altar boys weren’t coming in until much later.

He noticed most of the candles on the votive stand weren’t burning. Steve had always loved the smell of candle smoke but he didn’t remember putting them out. Perhaps his mind was elsewhere this afternoon, too preoccupied with the move.

Steve was surprised by the towering figure over his wooden desk. This had happened a few times in the past week, but it kept startling him.

Blue eyes looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Afternoon, Steve. I was wondering, why do you have Mark 7:21 crossed out in your bible?”

Steve felt violated. No stranger should go through somebody else’s Bible, nor be bold enough to ask the owner such things. He huffed in annoyance and locked the door behind him.

“Good afternoon, Father William.”

Steve closed the gap between them and rested his hands on the desk, in front of his companion. He took his Bible away from William’s prying eyes and scanned the selected page.

“I’ve never liked that quote,” Steve affirmed.

A guttural agreement came out of William’s throat, which made Steve lock eyes with him from across the desk.

“Why’s that?” William asked as he straightened his back and crossed his bare forearms in front of his chest.

Steve took a deep breath in, skimming through the crossed words on the worn-out book.

“I do not think evil things come from within all the time. Sometimes an environment or choices taken in life decide for a person,” Steve explained calmly.

“So…” William bit the inside of his cheek. “You’re one of those people that believe psychopaths are created, not born?”

Steve frowned at the blunt words from the young man opposite of him. “No, I’m not saying that. Of course, some people are born with issues, what I meant is…” Steve fixed his eyes on the blonde’s smile, aware this was just pure entertainment for him. “You know what? Never mind.”

William chuckled. “No, please, go on.”

“We’re colleagues, fellow men of faith. We’re supposed to get along. I don’t know why you keep pushing my buttons like this.” Steve, closed Bible in hand, moved to the small bookshelf by the window and picked up his rosary.

“I’m pushing your buttons?”

There was amusement in William’s voice, it was excruciating how much he purposely got on Steve’s nerves. Steve was well aware the young man who was set to replace him found a weird joy in seeing him agitated.

“Have you thought of your first sermon yet? I’d like to read it before I leave, if that’s okay with you.”

William changed his weight from one foot to the other and looked elsewhere, away from Steve’s examining eyes.

“I’m still working on it. I may have it for tomorrow,” William muttered.

Steve was confused, and perhaps somewhat curious, as to why William kept putting off an important task like this one. He always seemed fine, amused and chatty—until Steve would bring up anything Church related.

“Good. Leave it on my desk whenever you’re done with it or email it to the Church’s email address.” Steve gave William a tight-lipped smile before he checked his watch. “Confession hour is about to start, I better get going.”

William offered Steve a small nod, his cheerful demeanor from earlier completely melted away. Steve worried for a second that he might’ve said something out of place but quickly shook the thought off as he exited the office.

*

Mrs. Hammond kept babbling and babbling about the sinfulness and depravity Mrs. Rowe had shown at the local fair. Apparently, Mrs. Rowe had drunk a bit too much and had started to flirt shamelessly with one of the fair guards. Steve tried his best to pay attention but he couldn’t contain a yawn or two.

“It’s simply revolting! Her husband, may he rest in peace, must be shaking in his grave with anger!”

Steve sighed. “Mrs. Hammond, please. We must be gentle to those around us. Mrs. Rowe has been through a lot, perhaps this was nothing more than a mistake, and what do we always say in mass about mistakes?”

He heard Mrs. Hammond mutter something to herself before she cleared her voice. “Mistakes lead us to a better self.”

“That’s right,” Steve said. “Gossiping is a sin, Mrs. Hammond. We need to be kind to those in our community.”

“I’m sorry, Father. I’m sorry for this and all my other sins,” Mrs. Hammond replied in a smaller voice.

“As work for this week, I commend you to seek Mrs. Rowe and offer her a friendly hand to rely on. And three Hail Marys before you leave Church today, Mrs. Hammond.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you, Father.”

Mrs. Hammond followed along with her Act of Contrition before receiving Steve’s absolution.

A couple of silent minutes went by after Mrs. Hammond left the confessionary. Steve looked at his watch; there wasn’t much time for Confession left, which he was thankful for. He liked helping people but it was also a toll on his mind to carry the secrets of an entire town.

There was a rumbling in the cubicle next to his; someone had entered for Confession. He wondered if it was Mr. Lochland, who had been sick the last couple of weeks.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been nine months since my last confession.”

Steve didn’t quite recognize the voice. It was someone younger, definitely not Mr. Lochland with his hoarse, throaty voice. This voice was smooth, velvety, and calm.

“Go on, son.”

“I’ve been suffering from impure thoughts, Father,” the young man whispered.

Steve made a small gesture of understanding to himself. “It is a frequent occurrence at young ages, son.”

The man cleared his voice. “I’m not so young, Father, and these thoughts…these thoughts have been consuming me for a week, they won’t let me sleep at night.”

Steve started to fidget with the rosary in his hands, the young man sounded concerned, far too preoccupied with these thoughts he kept mentioning.

“Why for a week, son? Has something changed in your life? Have you met someone who’s awakened these impure thoughts in you?” Steve wanted to know a way to provide counsel, a way to help somehow.

“I have, Father.”

Steve thought he knew that voice from somewhere, perhaps an occasional parishioner or someone he knew from town.

“These thoughts…they’re about another man,” the whispering voice continued.

Steve raised his eyebrows, not in judgment but in shock—he didn’t expect his last confession to go like this.

“That’s alright, son. In my parish there’s no discrimination against any type of love.” Steve tried to keep his voice calm and reassuring.

There was a small second of silence and then, “I want to kiss him, Father. Bite his bottom lip until he’s gasping for air.”

Steve was lost for words, his voice caught in his throat by the bluntness of the statement.

“He’s completely oblivious, Father. He’s oblivious to how every time I lay eyes on him I want nothing else but to strip him of his clothes and feel the warmth of his skin underneath my hands.” The voice grew lower, sultrier even.

Steve changed the way he was sitting in the small cubicle of the confessionary, seeking a comfort that wouldn’t be found.

“Father,” the voice whispered. “I need you to cure me, to wipe these thoughts from my mind. I can no longer have them. They’re burning. I’m burning.”

Steve gulped down the knot in his throat. “I’m not sure I can cure it, son. I can absolve you from these sinful thoughts, give you a penitence to complete, but you have to do the work by yourself.”

It was extremely hard to maintain his composure as he spoke but Steve was used to out of the ordinary talks—even if none of the previous ones he’d had throughout his life as a priest had gone this way.

“What kind of penitence, Father?”

“Well, you could do some communitarian work, I think that would get your mind occupied and away from these thoughts,” Steve explained with his usual calmness. “There’s a gardening group here at the Church, we tend the garden on Tuesdays.”

“I couldn’t do that, Father, for you see… he’s a regular of this Church, and being here, even if gardening, would turn me insane with lust. What if he’s there? Bending over some plants, with his bare arms dirtied up with soil?”

Steve sighed—a silent prayer to stop the young man from further explaining his thoughts.

But, Steve’s prayers weren’t heard.

“I’d want to take him right there and then, with our hot, sweaty bodies covered in dirt,” the voice kept getting lower. “Father, I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”

Steve closed his eyes, crossing himself.

“Sometimes, during mass, I cannot help but think of him ripping my shirt off and having his way with me on the benches.”

There was a sudden waft of hot air swallowing Steve within the confessionary. He tried to loosen up the tightness around his neck only to find the resistance of the Roman collar against his fingers.

“I want to feel his thighs against mine, Father,” the voice grew closer, as if the young man was speaking right into Steve’s ear. “Pull his hair as he rides me.”

Steve wanted to say something, anything that would stop this, but he couldn’t. His pulse had accelerated and shivers kept running down his spine with every word said by the man.

“I want him crying and begging for more. I want to see hunger in his eyes, Father.”

Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. Parts that had been asleep for a long time in him started to awaken. He reached out for the red curtain of the confessionary, seeking a way out.

But the man continued, “I’d take him right here in this confessional box, Father. Make him pant for air as I’m buried deep inside of him.”

Steve grasped the curtain and pulled it open with every bit of strength left in his shaking arms. He was agitated, his pulse loud in his ears.

“That’s quite enough!” Steve’s voice reverberated in the wide, empty navel. His hand tightly clutching his Bible and rosary.

He was panting, his stomach tied in a hundred thousand knots. He felt feverish, like this was all part of a bad dream. Steve didn’t even want to know who hid behind the other curtain, he just wanted this to be over.

“I would invite you to leave this Church, this is unacceptable behavior,” Steve requested in a shaky voice.

He turned his back to the confessional box, determined to go back to his office and pray the man at the other side of the wooden division would silently leave.

It was on Steve’s third step when he heard it; the other curtain of the confessionary sliding open. He squeezed his eyes tightly and carried on, marching at a quick pace towards the altar.

“Steve,” the voice called. Not soft and whispered like before within the small cubicle, it had authority to it, sharp and clear.

And Steve knew who it belonged to.

Steve turned swiftly. It couldn’t be. How?

How was William standing right behind him, next to the confessionary? Steve couldn’t grasp what was happening, his mind making up a thousand excuses for what was going on. Perhaps William was testing him, or—or it could be a prank! Something weird and blasphemous Californian priests would do to pass the time?

It had to be anything, anything other than William actually having these thoughts for a parishioner.

“Father William,” Steve stated.

William put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers as he took a step forward. “You look agitated, Steve.”

Steve snorted, irritated at the nerve of the blond.

“I should report you for whatever this was. I do not care if it was a prank,” he said as the blood in his veins bubbled with anger. “Or, if all you said is actually true, God forbid, you should be away from my parishioners.”

William laughed as he ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom teeth. “Your parishioners? Why should your big flock of elderly women be away from me? Because I’m gay?”

“I don’t care if you’re gay or not. You’re a man of faith! You shouldn’t be saying things like the ones you said in there!” Steve retaliated.

“Ephesians 4:25, Steve.” William took yet another step towards the brunette. “Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body,” he quoted.

Steve was confused, he didn’t understand anything of what was going on. He just wanted his last day here to be a nice, quiet Saturday, giving mass, hearing the same old confessions.

William kept walking towards him as Steve’s mind struggled to find a reasonable answer for all of this.

“Tell me, Steve.” William’s voice got low again, like when he was confessing. “You’ve never had thoughts like those?”

Steve’s heart began to pound to a beat he had long forgotten, the short hair on his nape slowly turning damp with the sweat gathering there from the tension.

“Are you that much of a good boy?” William examined Steve’s eyes. “Are you, pretty boy?”

Steve moved his gaze away from William’s excruciating blue eyes. He felt seen, as if the blond could see right through him, read his mind somehow. Perhaps this was his ultimate test of Faith—and he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to pass it.

“Proverbs 24:26,” William whispered as his eyes traveled to the shape of Steve’s plump lips. “An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips.”

Steve felt like he was in a trance, like he couldn’t look away from the face merely one inch away from his. When he finally managed to snap out of it, his gaze traveled south to find William’s bare forearms there.

He had thought about those forearms—one too many times.

“I want you, Steve.”

When Steve looked up again he found William had stepped even closer, their mouths only a breath away from each other. Steve’s fingertips tingled as he held on tight to the Bible and the rosary that nestled against his chest. Doubtful and confused, he shook his head.

“Me?” Steve asked, his voice breaking at the end.

Steve’s mind was spinning, he couldn’t really process the fact that those things William had listed were about him, not when William was so close, with his hand slowly raising towards Steve’s face.

William cupped Steve’s cheek, to which the brunette could do nothing else but close his eyes at the warmth.

“Let me kiss you,” William muttered with a voice so quiet Steve prayed no Saint in the room could hear.

Steve opened his eyes to gaze at William’s mouth; the shape of it, the color of his lips.

In a courageous and stupid impulse, Steve drove his mouth to William’s, his arms still wrapped around his torso to hold the Holy objects against his core.

William moved his lips with ferocity once he was struck with the realization of what was happening, his lips making Steve’s prisoners of a quick and sloppy dance.

Steve felt a black hole swirling in his stomach. This black hole was hungry all of a sudden, it filled Steve with a need to devour the lips caught in between his. He wanted to be closer, feel the heat emanating from William’s body against his.

Unconsciously, Steve drove his hands to William’s hair, wanting nothing else but to touch him, feel him—but a loud thump made him jump, pulling away by a few steps from a breathless William.

Steve looked down to the marble floor, his Bible resting there, cold and forgotten even for a mere second in Steve’s existence. His rosary was still safe, tangled in between his fingers.

“Steve,” William called. “Look at me.”

He couldn’t look at him, not when his chest kept moving frantically as he tried to catch his breath.

Not when his morals were lying on the ground alongside his Bible.

“Look at me, Steve.”

William commanded and Steve obeyed, like a good little pilgrim. Big, concerned eyes quickly met icy blue.

“That’s it, baby.”

William bit his bottom lip as he spoke, hands back in his pockets. As he walked up to Steve, he kicked away the Bible lying on the floor without even looking at it.

“Anyone could see us, William,” Steve pleaded.

“Billy,” William said in that authoritative tone of his.

“What?” Steve asked in confusion as he watched the blond move closer and closer again. He clasped the rosary in his hand, the beads nailing into his skin.

“Call me Billy, baby.” William retrieved their previous position by cupping Steve’s cheek once more. “I closed the doors, we’re good.”

The next thing Steve felt was Billy’s mouth on his neck, wet and messy, kissing and biting as it moved up towards his ear. Steve’s belly kept feeling tighter and tighter, a pressure there he hadn’t felt since he was a teenage boy.

“Billy,” Steve gasped, closing his eyes at the ecstasy of Billy’s tongue swirling around his ear.

“Yeah, baby?” Billy’s voice was muffled against the hot skin underneath his mouth.

“We…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the words he wanted to say but his brain was muddled, consumed by the tingling feeling traveling through his every nerve. “We shouldn’t...”

Billy sunk his teeth into the crook of Steve’s neck, which instantly made the brunette moan louder than he would’ve wanted. The blond’s hands traveled to Steve’s black shirt, feeling the heat from his skin.

“We shouldn’t?” Billy asked as his mouth left wet kisses along Steve’s jaw.

Steve twisted his fingers into Billy’s blond curls, messy by his previous touch. The hanging beads of his rosary tingled against Billy’s neck.

Steve knew they shouldn’t, this was wrong, he was wrong, this was a sin. He was a sin. Steve had always known, since that one Halloween party when he was a freshman, the party during which he had first kissed a boy. Since then, he knew he was a sin, and he had done everything to make it right; to make himself right.

But, right there and then, with Billy’s tongue licking his lips, with the pit of fire building in his insides, he didn’t think it was much of a sin. Blinded by lust, by want and need, everything felt holy.

Steve tightened his fingers around Billy’s soft hair and pulled it. Billy’s eyes were quickly in his, blackened by desire. Steve could tell he had liked it and so he pulled once again until Billy’s neck was exposed. Steve devoured him, sucking, biting, and kissing every inch of skin under his hungry mouth. Billy’s faint whimpers only encouraged Steve more, who couldn’t help but move his mouth to the blond’s.

Billy’s lips parted as soon as he felt the warmth of Steve’s against his. Steve kissed so differently from him. Billy was quick, ferocious, starved even, in his kisses. Steve, however, was slow, careful, and sensual. So fucking hot. The way his tongue lapped against his lips as they kissed was making Billy harder than he could’ve ever imagined possible.

Steve felt a tingle run down his back with each moan Billy let out against his mouth. The sound echoed in the nave of the Church, making Steve’s head spin.

Out of breath, Billy pulled away and lowered his gaze as he began to undo the buttons of Steve’s shirt.

“I need to feel you,” Billy gasped. “Let me feel you.”

Steve watched as Billy unbuttoned his Saturday shirt. It was ungodly how much he craved Billy’s touch.

Billy smiled as his fingers traveled to the Clerical collar around Steve’s neck.

“I don’t think this suits you anymore, baby.”

Steve stared at Billy’s face as he removed the white plastic off of him. His stomach tied in a knot as he saw the tab fly away and fall onto the ground—near his forgotten Bible. There wasn’t much time for him to second guess his thoughts with Billy’s hot breath against his chest.

“Keep yours,” Steve breathed.

“Hmm?” Billy wondered, mind elsewhere.

“Your collar. Keep it.”

Billy met Steve’s eyes. “Fuck, baby. That’s kinky,” he said with a sly smile.

Steve giggled, feeling like a schoolboy, giddy and nervous to kiss his first crush. Billy went back to his chest, leaving a trail of damp kisses until he reached Steve’s nipple. He twisted his tongue around it, sending a sharp wave of electricity to every nerve in Steve’s body.

“Fuck,” Steve mumbled.

“We don’t curse in the house of the Lord, Father.”

Steve could feel Billy’s amused smile against his skin before he felt his teeth pressing against his hardened nipple. Steve felt a jolt of static run through his head, his eyes rolled back as he let his head fall back in a moan.

“Move,” Billy commanded all of a sudden, shaking Steve out of his pleasure-filled mind.

“What?” Steve asked, confused, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Move.”

Billy pushed Steve away until the brunette’s heels bumped into the small steps up to the altar. Steve’s mind was clouded by the sudden change, his bare chest moving to the beat of his irregular breath.

“Against the altar, come on, baby,” Billy said as he walked up to him.

Steve looked back, the beautiful marble altar behind him felt imposing. He didn’t really know how but he felt the inert object judging him for what he was doing, for what he was about to do. Checking his step, Steve climbed up to the altar, his eyes fixed on the Sacramental bread and wine he had prepared earlier.

He felt it then: the guilt, already bubbling in his stomach, ready to take over every cell in his being. But, Billy’s lips were faster, trailing the curve of Steve’s neck. Billy’s hands were larger, both ghosting over his chest. The pressure of Billy’s body against his back made the guilt fade away, disappearing into a cloud of smoke.

Billy spun him around, slowly, as he kept leaving kisses down his neck and chest. Steve rested his lower back against the cool white marble, gripping the edges as he felt Billy’s mouth nearing his black leather belt. He felt the rosary sleep through his fingers, heard how it collapsed on the ground. Steve didn’t care, not now.

Steve couldn’t really believe the sight below him, blue eyes and flushed cheeks looking up at him as Billy kneeled down in front of him.

“I’ll make you see God, baby,” Billy muttered, two of his fingers faintly tracing the shape of Steve’s bulge through the fabric.

Steve felt that touch like there was no barrier between them at all, made him pant in anticipation. The knot that had started to slowly build up in his belly was growing tighter, he wanted Billy—needed him.

Billy’s hands were eager as he undid Steve’s belt, his mouth leaving a wet trail of kisses on his chest. Steve’s vision was cloudy, fogged up by the need he had repressed for so many years, the want he had for Billy since he first saw him—a want he had obliterated from his thoughts in hopes it would go away.

Billy pulled down Steve’s trousers, the metal of his belt clinked against the floor as it fell. Billy’s breath caught in his throat—Steve looked like a Renaissance painting from where he stood, glistening chest and open-mouthed, a God. He felt a puncturing pain near his ribs that reminded him of the possibility this would be a one-time-only event, that he would never see Steve again after this, that the young priest would suddenly regain consciousness and see him for the monstrosity that he was.

A light touch ran through his curls, pulling him out of his thoughts. Billy hadn’t been aware of how his hands had begun shaking, of how he had instinctively closed his eyes at the pain.

“You’re okay?” Steve wondered with worry in his voice as his fingers caressed through Billy’s hair in a calming, soothing movement.

That alone could’ve brought Billy to tears, the warmth, the care that always emanated from Steve—that was what drew him to the brunette, what made him burn so much.

Steve lowered the hand on Billy’s hair until he was cupping his soft cheek, then, ever so slowly, he drew his thumb to Billy’s bottom lip, tracing the shape of it.

“I want you, too, Billy,” Steve confessed. “Ever since you knocked on my office door saying you were my replacement in the Church, I’ve wanted you.”

Billy couldn’t move his eyes away from Steve’s, those big chocolate ones of his that sparkled with the unshed tears that told Billy that what was being said was true.

Steve felt Billy’s teeth scrape against his fingertip, only to then pull Steve’s thumb into his mouth. Billy’s tongue felt like Paradise’s snake, quick and enticing, wrapping around his finger, drawing out moan after moan from Steve.

“Please,” Steve begged as he struggled for air.

Billy’s hands wormed their way into the sides of Steve’s briefs, grasping the skin on his hips, pulling him forward until his clothed bulge was pressed against Billy’s open mouth.

Steve gasped, his hands back on the white marble behind him, knuckles matching it from his tight grip. He could feel Billy’s hot breath against him, his tongue wetting the cloth of his briefs—it was too much.

Billy twisted his hands to grab the elastic of Steve’s underwear, pulling it down ever so slowly. Steve couldn’t help but let his head fall back; the feeling of the edge of his brief brushing against his hardness made his scalp tingle.

“Fuck,” Billy breathed, watching the artistry of Steve’s exposed neck in front of him.

Steve felt like he was gonna burst into flames, he hadn’t experienced desire in a very long time—perhaps ever, not like this, anyway.

His body convulsed the second Billy’s touch was on him. Steve’s eyes were closed but he very well could see the muscles on Billy’s forearm in his mind, flexing and moving as Billy’s hand moved on his sex.

Steve’s eyes shot open at the feeling of Billy’s tongue tracing the tip of his dick. He couldn’t help the moan that left his throat, echoing through the empty Church, the sound of his own cry of pleasure only made him harder.

“Billy,” Steve choked. “God, please.”

“Not God, baby,” Billy said, gulping as he moved his mouth downward, leaving a chaste kiss on Steve’s length. “Just me.”

Steve was getting impatient, clouded by the storm of lust that traveled through his body. He grabbed onto Billy’s hair with his right hand, his left hand still holding tight onto the altar.

Billy took the tug on his hair as a silent command and licked his way back up to the tip, twisting his tongue around it before pulling Steve into the warmth of his mouth.

Steve whimpered at the feeling of Billy’s wet mouth, at the way one of his hands clutched at Steve’s thigh as he shamelessly worked up and down his shaft.

Billy was sloppy, hungry for Steve in a way that reverberated against the carved and decorated walls. The acoustics of the Church enhanced everything, made Steve feel like this was part of a dream; one he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up from. His hips moved involuntarily to the rhythm Billy had marked, soon after they were in sync.

Steve let go of Billy’s hair when a wave of pleasure threatened to overcome him, he wanted it to last, to savour every second of the sensation of Billy’s mouth on him. He attempted to hold on to the altar with both hands, accidentally knocking over the Sacramental wine.

“Shit.” Steve watched the liquid run its way down the marble surface, dyeing red the tablecloth that covered it.

The worry didn’t last long as Billy picked up the rhythm, his mouth closing tighter around Steve’s cock, one hand working at the base while the other massaged Steve’s thigh.

Steve’s eyes rolled back as he let his head fall backwards, his back arched against the cold marble. He could feel it, the waves of pleasure rushing through him. Something made him open his eyes then. Jesus, crucified, looked down on him upside down; Steve, a mere reflection of the man he served, hands spread out, head bent. But, Steve wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t dying—he felt more alive than ever, vibrant, electric.

Billy pulled him deeper and Steve felt himself collapse. The blond’s moans vibrated against his length, sending shivers through his spine.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve muttered, almost inaudible. “Fuck.”

That almost silent announcement led his body to tense up and as Billy’s hand tightened on his thigh, a lightning of pleasure bolted through him, leaving everything scorched in its path.

Steve couldn’t recall for how long his mind went into a state of emptiness and white noise but it was Billy’s lips that drove him out of it. He could taste himself in Billy’s tongue, which for some strange reason made him giggle against Billy’s open mouth.

“That was so hot, baby,” Billy said with a satisfied smile. “Did I make you see God?”

Steve kissed him back, soft and gentle. “You know, I think you might’ve,” he replied, amused.

Billy pulled away from Steve to stare at him with a mischievous smile on his face. As he did so, he noticed the spilled wine on the altar behind them.

“We made a mess,” Billy mentioned before he turned back to Steve’s face.

Steve chuckled. He felt ecstatic, his chest filled with a sort of happiness he hadn’t experienced before. Steve cupped Billy’s face as he kept on kissing him.

“Do you want to see God?” Steve purred against the blond’s lips.

Billy’s eyes twinkled. “Fuck, show me God, baby.”

[verydeadaten]

Jaune's Sixth Sense: Pyrrha Addition

The highly unanticipated sequel to this post!

________________________________

Jaune and Pyrrha were hanging out in Jaune’s old room in Ansel. They were on break, and Jaune wanted to show his girlfriend the village where he was raised. Pyrrha was sitting on the surprisingly comfortable bed, looking at the wall covered with posters of rock bands and superheroes. Jaune was at his small bookshelf, picking something up. He walked towards the bed, and spoke.

“Pyrrha, you know how you asked me about my favorite fairytale a while ago?”

She looked at him. “I can recall that, yes”

Jaune handed her something. A book. “Well, this is it.”

The book in her hands was heavy, and red. There was an illustration on the cover, what seemed to be a knight in a field. The back had a very scary looking wolf on it. The cover had the book’s title in big, shiny letters. The Great Hunt. Pyrrha looked up at her lover, surprised.

“Jaune, this isn’t a fairytale. This is an epic poem.”

“Yeah, I know, but-”

Pyrrha was laughing now. “I had to read an excerpt from it in combat school, then write an essay about it!”

Jaune was laughing too. “Really? How’d you do?”

“I think I did okay. I don’t remember the exact grade. You probably could’ve done better.”

“Jeez, Pyrrha. My writing isn’t that good.”

Pyrrha had a serious look in her eyes. “Beloved, I got an eighty-six on the last essay Oobleck gave us.”

“Pyrrha…”

“You got one-hundred and ten. You got a perfect score with extra credit on an assignment that nearly everyone else failed. Even Weiss didn’t get a perfect score. Your writing is leagues better than mine will ever be. Now…”

She slammed her hands on the book on her lap. “Tell me about this!”

Jaune exhaled. “Alright. So, I think my mom read it to me as a bedtime story when I was three.”

Pyrrha stifled a laugh. “Really?! I’m pretty sure most parents would read their toddlers childrens books. Not millenia old poems about warriors fighting monsters.”

Jaune snorted. “My parents are not most parents.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “I can tell. Alright, continue.” 

“When I was five, I started reading it by myself. I only had the first part, so I just read it over and over. My Dad bought me the rest of it, and I read that over and over. I actually would bring all three parts to school in my backpack. It was so heavy, my back started to hurt. So to stop me from getting permanent back issues, on my 9th birthday, my parents gave me this.” He picked up the book from Pyrrha’s lap. He looked at the cover, seemingly hypnotized by the shiny drawing.

“This is a collectors edition version of the whole poem. That’s why it’s so big, it’s all three parts of the story.” 

“It looks amazing, Jaune.”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve read this whole poem. I’ve read it front to back, back to front. I’ve gone online and read analyses about it. I translated a part of it to Octavian (latin) once as a project. At one point, I even started writing essays about it in my spare time.”

Pyrrha was extremely surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. I had to do an essay about it in middle school. I started and finished it in two days. I had to revise it twice because I kept going over the word limit.”

“Brothers, Jaune.”

“Yeah…”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Jaune felt a bit embarrassed. He liked writing, sue him. At least she didn’t see the typewriter he had under his bed. Or his journals. His many, many, journals.

Nobody could know about those.

Pyrrha then broke the silence. “Can I read it?”

“Of course. Let me clean up, this room is a mess.”

“Thank you beloved.” She gave him a chaste kiss, then opened the book.

As Pyrrha began reading, Jaune looked around the room for things to clean. Dirty clothes (how did he forget to put those away before he left?), music magazines, comic books, and… his bible. 

Well, his grandma’s bible to be precise. It was white, covered with a thick layer of dust. He hasn’t read any religious text in a while. His mind swirled with memories. Memories of reading with his grandparents. Memories of church, of sermons. Memories of prayer, and chanting. But his thoughts were interrupted by a sound most horrible.

RIP

His mind went blank. His vision, going dark.

Pyrrha was horrified. How could she do this? Ripping one of her beloved’s most prized possessions, after he most graciously gave it to her to read. What was wrong with her? She had to apologize. But before she could even mutter the words “I’m sorry,” she heard something fall to the ground. 

THUMP

She looked up to see Jaune standing before his bookcase, completely still. There was a white book near his feet. 

“Jaune? Jaune, are you okay?”

No response.

“Beloved?”

Jaune turned around, and started walking towards the bed. 

“Jaune, I didn’t mean to tear your book. I’m so sorry.”

Jaune got his knees on his bed. He took the book out of her hands, and put it on the nightstand to the right of his bed.

“Jaune, are you okay? I’m sor-MMMMMPH?! MMMmmm, mmmmhhh~.”

All thoughts had left Pyrrha’s head, as she was pulled in for a searing kiss!  Jaune had her pinned, holding her hands above her head. He wasn’t usually this forward in his affection. Jaune was a shy lover, always nervous, always asking. Today, however, he wasn’t asking, he just took. And Pyrrha didn’t mind that one bit.

Hours later…

Jaune woke up sweaty. His head was pounding. What happened? All he could remember was giving Pyrrha The Great Hunt, then cleaning up his room, then… nothing. It was dark out now. How long has he been out? He looked down on himself, and noticed something. He was naked. Completely naked. He gave a shriek of surprise, and then something to the right of him moved.

“Beloved… Just five more minutes…”

It was Pyrrha, also naked, completely passed out. She was a mess. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail. She was sweaty, and breathing heavily. And she was covered in… fluids…

What the hell happened?

[moodywyrm]

i just redid my room this week,, and it has me wondering what abby and readers room/apartment would look like !! and if they would have any pets or plants and things of those sorts !!

-🧸

you have just opened the floodgates. I fucking love home decor n decorating shit, I literally went Bonkers when I got to decorate my bedroom in my college apartment.

ok so I drew out a floor plan.

so this is gonna be. a big one. so. jerry spared literally no expense when he got abby her college apartment. sure its one bedroom one bath, but it's got a spacious living room that connects to the kitchen. there's a big ol island in the kitchen where abby got so many stools bc she wanted to fit all of her besties. thinks her washer n dryer are in the worst spot ever, but they're the stacked ones so it isn't as bad as it could be. that lil area next to the patio? her reading spot. she never really knew what to do with the space until she met you, and then it clicked. reading nook. one of your guys' favorite dates was hitting every thrift store you could to find a good coffee table and old armchairs. one green, one pink, one baby blue. she loves them to bits, they're absolutely moving into her next place with her. she literally Made a bookshelf to store all the books you gradually left at her house, and it's become your joint shelf now <3

the sofa is Huge and her dad bought it for her, it's black upholstery. her apartment doesn't have one particular style, just very Abby. I forgot to draw it in but there is absolutely a trophy case in the living room. her medals and old jerseys are on the wall, mixed with your band posters and art prints. her favorite parts are the framed photo graphs of her friends and family, including multiple of you. she specifically picked an apartment with great windows, and this came in so handy when you moved in because the both of you basically have a fucking Jungle of plants. Hanging plants, plant stands, plants on every surface. ur babies. the walls are a kinda neutral white color, nothing super special, but it really doesn't matter when it's covered in so much stuff! plus, you usually have colored lights on (like salt lamps, candles, bluetooth color shifting lightbulbs), that the walls are usually just whatever color you want them to be. the couch is covered in throw blankets, that you brought in. the main living area, bedroom, and closet are all dark oak hardwood-tile, with the softest rugs known to man, especially in the bedroom bc neither of you want to step on ice cold tile in the winter.

the bathroom is a different, simple white tile. the shower has glass sliding doors, that abby absolutely uses to look at u while u shower n vice versa <3 it has a built in tub that u make full use of. the bathroom counter is covered in candles, trinkets, skincare, hygiene products, but all very organized bc it makes abby stress less.

the bedroom. ok. her bed? godly. so fucking comfy. king sized, with the softest sheets ever and the plushest comforter and blankets. satin pillowcases you brought in <3 abby religiously washes her bedding, so it cycles from black to pink to blue every three weeks. the bedroom walls are also covered in art prints and wall hangings, but all of these were picked by the both of you. a lot of it is thrifted or bought from local artists, bc you absolutely drag abby to local craft fairs and the like <3 that chest at the end of the bed holds spare bedding and ,,,, other things ,,,, it is locked. on the wall between the doors to the bathroom and closet is a huge standing mirror, and underneath it is a small table and area for you to do your makeup. gives you top tier fit pics, it is also the mirror abby uses for ,,,, other things. it also! gives u a perfect look at abby while she's working at her desk. above her desk is a huge wall grid/corkboard that she hangs a bunch of shit on. I forgot to draw them in but she also has more bookshelves on the wall across from the bed, specifically four small-medium ones, separated by a dresser that holds a bunch of spare stuff and some of her workout gear that she uses often enough to keep out of the closet.

ok the fun stuff. books fucking Everywhere!!! and cool dishware that you thrifted when you moved in. the kitchen is so well loved and worn in, bc you two love cooking together. the couch is much the same way, well worn n comfortable as all hell, literally one of your favorite spots in the apartment. ur actual favorite spot? the patio. it's beautiful, covered in plants, always burning incense out there, comfortable seating, a beautiful view of the park across the street. u and abby spend your weekend mornings out there, usually bundled up into one big chair while abby dozes and you read, drinking coffee or tea or your preferred morning beverage. the apartment smells so good bc candles and incense and abby's rigorous cleaning. her apartment feels like home for the both of you, carefully curated to be a little sanctuary after long days of classes and practices and just general stress.

this is my magnum opus. I have a problem. I will probably speak more on this.

[nicooole04]

With Practiced Ease

Midoriya x BlackFem!Reader

Midoriya always loved watching you do your hair. He adored how, with practiced ease, you'd twist and braid the strands in on themselves. It was like magic, he'd first thought. You were so... meticulous in the way you'd form the braids, creating repetitive patterns in your hair.

The first time he saw you braid was your sophomore year at U.A.. You'd just transferred from a school in America and spent the first few days with them locked away in your room. Everyone was concerned, of course, but Midoriya took the first step in checking up on you.

You'd heard a soft knock at your door. You were a little worried to be seen yet, but not too much. You pulled out your favorite bonnet, slipped it on and opened the door.

"Hello?"

Midoriya was a bit surprised by the strange hat you wore, but he didn't pay too much attention to it.

"Uh, (name), I was just checking on you. You just got here, but you've been kind of.. secluded. Are you alright?"

Honestly it surprised you to get a visit. You hadn't been required to attend classes until three days after you'd moved in, to give you time to settle and all. You hadn't seen your classmates, and you weren't even aware they knew who you were either.

Midoriya coming to visit you was something you hadn't expected to say the least.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm okay. I've just been busy moving in, y'know." That wasn't entirely wrong, you had been moving and organizing your stuff for the first day. But now, you were trying to get your first day braids in and they were taking longer than you'd hoped.

Midoriya smiled graciously at you, happy to know that you were doing okay. He was still curious, however.

"Do you need any help moving in?"

Midoriya loved the way your eyes creased when you laughed. Waving his suggestion off, you giggled, "No, no, I think I've got everything down."

Despite your cheerfulness, you still hadn't opened the door any wider, careful not to show anything past your body.

Midoriya knew you were trying to send him off, but seeing you now, he didn't want to leave. You were a mystery to him. An unknown. You'd come from a foreign country to U.A.. No one knew who you were here, no one knew your quirk or your history, hell, they barely knew your name.

Midoriya wanted to be the first to figure you out.

So when you saw his smile falter a little with dejection, you figured it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with him. Plus, you were getting lonely cramped up in your room.

"Actually, I do need help organizing some books and things, if you don't mind." Midoriya's wide puppy eyes smiled at you.

"Of course, I'll help you, (name)."

You were happy to see him in such a good mood, but you were slightly embarrassed for him to see your room.

On the bed, you had bags of hair, some of them already opened and organized. You had a pillow on the floor next to some combs and brushes. Clips and a jar of gel. Your phone had been propped up against the leg of your desk chair with a YouTube video playing aimlessly.

For someone who just moved in, your room was already a mess.

"I'm sorry for the clutter," Midoriya watched as you began moving the stuff on the floor out of the way. He actually didn't mind the mess. Midoriya was admiring your room, really. Your walls were covered in posters of your favorite artists. Pictures of your friends and family littered the spaces in between. On the back of the door was a full body mirror with jewelry hanging from the corners. Your desk was relatively clear except your laptop, a lamp, potted plant and various lip glosses. A rug lay beneath the clutter and, despite the rest of the mess, your bed was made up nicely.

"There, it's a little cleaner," you chuckled nervously as you pointed to a small bookshelf in the corner with two cardboard boxes in front of it. "My books are in there, you can just set them on the shelf and that'll be fine."

Midoriya loved seeing you smile, it filled him with a sunshiney feeling he couldn't describe.

He quickly moved over to the shelf, sitting down on his knees to get a better look. You watched as he began pulling the books out, one by one, and instead of just putting them on the shelves, you watched as he took the time to read the title of each one. Inspecting the books individually. You figured that would distract him for a bit while you finally started on your hair. Midoriya wasn't looking at you, but he'd heard your hums as you slipped your bonnet off, undoing the quick bun you'd put up. You grabbed a brush before pulling the tool through your hair, effectively detangling it.

After you were satisfied, you'd started sectioning off your hair, putting the rest into mini buns to deal with later. You moved almost robotically as you used the rattail comb to make more, tiny boxes of your hair before using the gel to slick the parts.

You'd already pulled a nice section of hair out, so all you had to do was feed it into the braid, bulking up the strand until you could comfortably braid to the end.

It wasn't until you'd done a few more braids that you noticed Midoriya has completely stopped stacking the book away and was now watching you with pure wonder in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this making you uncomfortable?" Back home, you were surrounded by people who knew how to take care of your hair and style it. Your mother used to sit you down in the kitchen with the hot comb on the stove, promising you she wouldn't burn you, but ultimately did a few times. As a kid, your grandmother with plat your hair and style the sections into little twists before wrapping a knocker around the base and adding a barrette to the end. You didn't feel weird or out of place at home doing your own hair.

But here, you weren't sure if people would be feel uncomfortable. To be frank, you were feeling insecure.

"I can wait until later to finish, I don't want to make you-"

"No, no, you don't have to stop. I've just never seen someone do their hair like that," Midoriya was entranced. Living in Japan his whole life, he was used to seeing the same hairstyles. Same colors, same textures. There wasn't much variety. But seeing the way you combined the hair from the bag into your own to create something so beautiful, he wanted you to keep going.

"Really? You're not...weirded out?" Midoriya shook his head. He'd abandoned his shelf stacking job and was completely committed to watching you.

Whenever you did something, he'd ask what you were doing and how. You explained to him what box braids were, how to section them off and showed him up close how to braid. You explained your hair texture to him and he asked how you take care of it so you told him that too.

You and Midoriya spent hours together, eventually moving onto other topics. You told him about your hometown and your family, the foods you ate, the holidays you celebrated. You told him about your school and your quirk and why you'd decided to move to Japan at all.

Midoriya listened intently to every word you spoke, making a mental note of every fact you gave him. He loved hearing you talk, hearing you laugh.

He still does, to this day. Even after you'd both graduated from U.A. and we in the early years of your heroic careers, Midoriya was still memorized with you and your hair.

He watched from your bed as your hands moved down the braid. You were focused, a strand of curly hair still connected to the braid hanging between your lips as you continued braiding, your eyes trained on the video on the TV. You were multitasking in such a beautiful way. He adored you. You the same, given he was your first, real friend in Japan. He was the first person to make you feel comfortable in such a new place. You were forever grateful for him.

So Midoriya watched as you, with practiced ease, braided your hair.

A sight he could never get tired of seeing.

•

•

•

I hope you guys enjoy this, I'm trying to get back into writing and I'm thinking of starting small with fluffy little one-shots.

Let me know what you think!!

[leaderpinhead]

Trein - Adoption

Mozus released a deep sigh and closed his book. Lucius gave him a small meow before curling into a tighter ball in his lap. Mozus gave the feline a generous scratch behind the ear while he glanced around the small space that was his “home-away-from-home.” 

It was a cozy space—with a functioning fireplace, ample shelving for his history books, and an adequate kitchenette to brew his afternoon tea. His only complaint would be being able to hear Ashton and Percival when their drinking games went a bit too far, but that was the caveat for living on the campus with the other staff. Even now, he could hear the two men giggling through the walls, their Friday night drinking already started. 

Speaking of time…Lucius gave a huff when Mozus moved him just enough to retrieve the pocket watch from his pocket. The girls should be calling him soon, as they usually did when their stepmother finished her call to Asher. He had a bit to tell her tonight, especially concerning Palacios and his escalating antics with transformation potions. She had laughed off his concerns last week—stating Asher had assured her his little friend was harmless—but Mozus knew he could rally her support when he told her... 

A short knock on his door brought his strategizing to a halt. With an upset mewl, Lucius jumped from his lap when Mozus beckoned him. Pocketing his watch, Mozus shuffled across the room to open the door. 

He quirked a brow when he found Divus standing outside his door, looking like he had just sniffed the foulest potion he could possibly brew. “Yes?” 

Divus’s eyes rudely flicked up and down. “I didn’t realize you owned something other than a suit.” 

Mozus scowled at the young professor. Lucius emitted an unhappy rumble as he wrapped himself around Mozus’s ankles. “Did you knock on my door simply to insult my wardrobe?” 

One corner of Divus’s mouth quirked upwards. “Perhaps that would have been a reason when I was still a student, but at this age I’m...” Divus paused. His brow caved inward, and the bridge of his nose wrinkled. “I’m in need of advice.” 

Sensing the sober undertones in the younger professor’s voice, Mozus stepped aside and gestured Divus into his small apartment. Divus stepped in and quickly maneuvered around the room to stand in front of the two chairs framing the bookshelf. Divus didn’t sit until Mozus gestured him to, which earned him a bit of respect. Divus had been an outspoken rebel many years ago when he first stepped into Mozus’s classroom as a student, but that rebellion had tempered a bit during his tenure as a professor. He was still a bit of a hellion at times, but there was a maturity to it now that helped Mozus have a bit more patience. In front of the students at least. 

Mozus carefully sat across from Divus. He made a small gesture for Lucius to jump into his lap, which the feline did without hesitation. Lucius’s loud purr became background noise while he spoke. “I assume the advice you're searching for is on a serious topic. Over the last decade you have taught here, you have never once sought me outside of school hours.” 

Divus hummed his agreement. He shifted in the chair until one leg stretched comfortably across the other. The casual posture brought more attention to his foot jiggling in the air. “I know you haven’t made it public knowledge, but Asher Kindle is your stepson.” 

Mozus didn’t attempt to hide his surprise at the statement. “Indeed, he is. Though his mother and I both agreed it was for the best he maintain his father’s surname. I had believed that would keep anyone from drawing a connection between us after he enrolled.” 

Divus twitched one hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m not here to accuse you of favoritism. I’m sure anyone would immediately catch on to such a thing considering your reputation among the students.” That singular curl of Divus’s lips returned when Mozus scowled at him. It quickly drooped again, and his foot jiggled a bit more. “If you don’t mind me asking, did you fully adopt the boy?” 

Mozus blinked, and his annoyance simmered once more into surprise. Lucius’s tail flicked under his chin when he stopped petting. “Indeed, I did. Just as my wife adopted my daughters. We are a family in every sense of the word.” 

Divus hummed and leaned back into his chair. His fingers steepled above his knee. “And the process—how difficult was it?” 

Mozus copied Divus’s motions, leaning into his chair and resuming his petting motions for Lucius’s enjoyment. “It was fairly easy. All that was required was our signing a few official documents.” Mozus quirked one brow. “It helped that there wasn’t another biological parent to contest the adoption and all of the children were born in Twisted Wonderland.” 

Divus gave him a nasty scowl, but Mozus challenged him with a haughty stare. The younger man wanted his advice, and Mozus wasn’t keen to dance around the topic he wished to address. When Divus’s lips remained tightly shut, Mozus continued. “In the case of Maddox, there isn’t much point in venturing down that path. At eighteen, he is considered a legal adult. I would advise more of a power of attorney status in that situation. That way if anything were to happen to the boy, you would be the one to make important decisions concerning his welfare, not his dubious father. 

“As for Yuu...” Mozus hummed. “That is a trickier matter. On paper, the child doesn’t exist. If the headmage fails to find a way to send the child home, then that may become an issue when the school year ends. At the very least, the child could become a ward of the state.” 

“Only because the child doesn’t exist on paper,” Divus repeated. His jiggling foot had calmed a bit. “Say there were papers that existed...papers that only needed another person to witness the signing…” 

Before Mozus could question the odd insinuation, another knock sounded at his door. Divus jumped up before Mozus could and opened the door without hesitation. Percival hiccupped as he took a swaying step into the room, his lanky form bending like a piece of grass in the wind. He saluted Divus, plastering his pink bangs against his forehead. “Dr. Percival Ellington—Head Nurse of Night Raven College—at your service, ringmaster.” 

“I thought I told you to hold off on drinking so early,” Divus snapped. “You’re already plastered.” 

“No, I'm—.” A hiccup interrupted Percival. He rapidly blinked and paused long enough to appear baffled by his surroundings. He giggled. “I use plaster for booboos.” 

Divus clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You can still recite your name, which is good enough. Come here.” 

Percival allowed himself to be guided over to the chairs. He gave Mozus a friendly wave. “Heya, professor! Wanna come share a drink with me an’ Gassy? We’re gonna celebrate Dee being a new daddy!” 

Mozus didn’t bother answering Percival. Instead, he watched Divus pull a small packet of paper from the inside pocket of his coat and flatten the pages against the nearby side table. He shot a narrowed stare at Percival before manhandling the nurse into a position on the opposite side of the table. “Percy, just stand there and watch us sign the papers.” 

“Uh huh.” Aside from his loose movements and the slight slur in his speech, Mozus could almost believe the man was sober. Until he nearly faceplanted into the table. “I’ll watch real close!” 

Divus sighed and pushed Percival back into an upright position. “Just stand there, Percy. That’s all I ask.” 

“Okie dokie!” 

“Divus.” Mozus stood, placing Lucious into his chair. He stepped up to the table beside the younger men to get a better view of the papers Divus rapidly flipped through. His frown lengthened when he caught the heading of one page. “You can’t possibly think I would agree to this.” 

“You do tend to be a stickler for the rules,” Divus mumbled. His hand never paused scribbling his initials and exaggerated signature. “But tell me—what rules are we breaking exactly? You yourself admit the prefect doesn’t exist on paper. I’m simply creating the paper trail to give her existence legitimacy. It’s really no different than a doctor signing a birth certificate.” 

“Except you are no doctor,” Mozus snapped. “A child is no mere commodity to be flung around on a whim.” 

Divus sighed, and his pen finally paused. He straightened from his hunched posture. He tipped his chin higher and looked Mozus straight in the eye with an unwavering gaze. “I’m aware of that. Which is why I am creating an existence for the girl. On the off-chance Crowley doesn’t find a way to return her to her world—on the off-chance she has no world to return to. As a minor, she would become a ward of the state just as you said. Taken away from what she has become familiar with and thrust into a world she still grasps to understand. Do you think anyone would be interested in taking in a child her age? Do you think she would be allowed the freedom she has found here? Her mind would rot in the public education system, where she will be told her lack of magic is a defect that holds her back, though she’s proven a better grasp at potions and the understanding of magic basics than most mages twice her age. You would subject a girl to that life simply because of a technicality of her legal existence?” 

Mozus pressed his lips together. It wasn’t difficult for Divus to become...passionate on a topic. Mozus genuinely believed the younger man could have become the housewarden of Pomefiore dorm as a student had he shown more interest in potion making at the time. Tenacity was simply a nicer word than the bullheaded stubbornness Divus could embody when he wanted to. 

That wasn’t entirely what Mozus saw in Divus’s gaze though. The tension in his shoulders slackened a bit. He closed his eyes and rubbed at the sudden ache between his brows. “You could lose your position here if this forgery is discovered.” 

“Forgery implies these aren’t legitimate documents.” Mozus didn’t need to see Divus to hear the smirk on his face. “I assure these are completely legitimate along with the notarization stamped on them.” 

Mozus couldn’t help directing a sharp gesture at Percival, who could barely stand upright without Divus consistently pushing him back into place. “And I’m to believe Percival is the notary you chose to witness this signing?” 

Divus’s smirk widened. “As a matter of fact, yes.” 

Percival pulled a stamper from his pocket with a happy hiccup. “I gotta stamp too!” 

Mozus should have known. He had watched the two men—then students of Heartslabyul and Pomefiore—run amuck on the campus. Why wouldn’t they continue to support each other as staff? “And you truly believe you can fool the world into believing this child is a distant cousin you wish to gain guardianship over? What if someone from your family comes forward to expose you?” 

Divus’s expression barely shifted, but Mozus caught the hard glint that briefly passed over his eyes. “After fifteen years of openly shunning me and pretending I never existed? I would love to see them try. Now sign the damn papers, Trein. I only need your signature to prove it was really me who signed the papers and Percival who notarized them. I’ll even let you witness the papers when Maddox and I establish a power of attorney if that’ll help relieve that rule abiding Heartslabyul spirit of yours.” 

Sensing Divus wouldn’t budge, Mozus finally took the pen Divus held out to him and signed the lines Percival’s wobbly finger pointed at. Afterwards, while Divus reluctantly escorted a wobbly Percival back to Ashton’s apartment, Mozus flipped through the documentation. He paused on the front page. 

Yuki Crewel—a bit common, but an easy way to explain her “nickname” being Yuu. Mozus shook his head and placed the papers in a safe place for Divus to retrieve. He settled back in his chair with Lucious and searched his bookshelf for a new book to read while listening to Ashton’s and Percival’s loud voices insisting Divus join them. 

While he didn’t fully approve of Divus’s methods, he couldn’t deny the young man’s obvious attempts to give the two children under his wing one less thing in life to worry about. 

[hairlessgoblin]

II. Passively Possessive

Part 2 of:

A/N: Im excited to have you guys read this second part. I took a while and it might not be grammatically correct but I did my best. I hope you enjoy it!

CREDITS AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

@saradika for the beautiful dividers

@galesleftearring for being my first galemancer and tumblr mutual

@the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep @yolo-swaginz @beeblisss for reblogging part 1 and being absolute sweethearts 🥹

The next literacy class had come around quicker than expected. Not to mention how paranoid you were about bumping into Gale again. You had made an effort to keep your mind away from your last awkward interaction. Sadly, every time you sat in a classroom, you painfully cringed at the memory.

 

Now again, on your way to class, you decided to stop by the bathrooms. You fixed your hair in the mirror and placed your glasses back on your face. Coming out, you bump forcefully into someone.

 

“Watch it! What in the hell has got you in a hurry?” the person on the other side of the door complains. You step out, and a tall half-orc looks down at you. "Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He steps forward, closing the space between both of you. Your back is pressed against the textured wall. “Step back now, or I will make your face burn.” You warn them, feeling the hot breath of their smirk on your face. "Mmm, I can tell you’re fiery. The tips of your elf ears are almost glowing.” He laughs. You waste no time in conjuring a fireball into your fingertip and pointing it bellow his chin.

 

“You are lucky. I value my education over incinerating your thick skull. Get out of my way or burn.” The half-orc is taken aback and opens the way for you to get out. You swiftly turn the corner and bump chest to chest with the one and only Gale. Your complexion was a shade of raging red and your pupils dilated with the full concentration of your spells. The warm residual arcana flows through your body.

 

Gale looks into your eyes, trying to bring you back from the anger and wrath boiling in your blood. “Don’t let him get to you. Such a dimwitted sorcerer doesn’t deserve your attention or your gaze.” He places his hands on your shoulders. He was angry that someone had the audacity to treat you this way. You feel your muscles start to relax with his words. You take a deep breath.

 

"...and I would have to get a new desk partner. That would certainly be a hassle; I haven’t found anyone as competent as you for the position.” You let out a laugh. His eyes are bright, and he feels accomplished to have lightened up the mood.

 

“Thank you.” You feel the stinging of your body dissipate and transform into butterflies in the depths of your belly button.

 

“You are most welcome. Shall we continue with our academic duties?” He offers his arm, knowing your body had produced a copious amount of energy that faded as quickly as it was summoned. You nod, resting your hand on his forearm. You walk slowly to the classroom.

 

 

You were astonished to see the size of his house. Gale had invited you over to study in his tower. The place felt endless, most walls covered from the floor to the ceiling in books. The salty air from the ocean coming in from the open windows. The sun was soon to set but Gale had already prepared a lamp on the desk for you both.

 

“I was thinking, maybe we could try our protection spells on a notebook first?” You ask.

 

You had been tasked with creating a “Pushback Literature Protection spell” for your favorite book. You had chosen ‘The Annals of Romance’ it was a bit embarrassing. A novel of romance, betrayal, and undying love. With insight into man's most troubling questions about life and himself.

 

“I’ll volunteer my journal; it's filled with exceptional poetry and a few mediocre illustrations of Tara.” Gale chuckled as Tara slept peacefully on top of a bookshelf next to the library window.

 

You stand next to him and watch him recite the incantation from your notebook. His hands expertly flick and swish in the air. You shiver at the thought of his hands on your body but quickly push the thought away so as not to cause yourself any embarrassment by blushing. Lights and symbols seemed to fall from his palms onto the notebook. “That shall do. Should we test it?” He asks.

 

“Allow me; you already offered your notebook.” You take the leather book in your hands and unclasp the bronze buckle keeping it locked. You open his notebook, and a gust of wind throws you into the nearest tower of arranged books. You hit your head against something hard. You hiss and open your eyes. A statue of Mystra seems to look down on you mockingly when you hear Gale running to you. “Gods, I apologize I think it was overpowered. Are you alright? Did you hit yourself?” His voice almost cracked, worried he had caused you any harm. “Don’t worry, you did great. Im honored.” You laugh and touch your head. There is a wet spot on your crown, you press through your hair with your fingertips. Blood. Looking back at your hand, you feel dizzy. You didn’t do well with blood, and the hit from the protective spell wasn’t helpful.

 

Strong arms pick you up from the floor. You want so badly to sleep the pain off. “Stay awake, love. Whatever you do, don't close your eyes, alright? I will set you down on the bed and get something to heal you.” You listen to Gales dancing voice. His accent thick from the strength of carrying you up the stairs. You just look at him, his nose, and the curve of his lips. You reach out to touch his beard, and his eyes meet yours. His frown turns into somewhat sad puppy eyes, worried but enjoying this bit of contact before setting you on the bed and running out of the room. “TARA!” You hear him call out down the hallway.

 

The bed sheets are made of beautiful silk, a deep shade of purple. The pillow under your head was soft and smelled of rosemary and peppermint. Looking up, you see a sheer canopy with a small blue light floating down. You shut your eyes, feeling your head pulsating. You feel someone touch your hand—a cold and small hand. A woman sits beside you on the bed; her glowing aura seems unreal , her slick black hair almost touches the bed; and her blue eyes search into you. “As beautiful and powerful as you are, you can't be a distraction. He is meant for far more. He is meant for me.” She turns translucent until you can't feel her presence.

 

You hear Gales heavy steps come from the door. "I'm sorry to have taken so long.” He presses a damp towel on top of your head. You try sitting up, but your strength fails you. You feel yourself getting pale. Gale grabs you around your waist from above and pushes you up. He brings a small vial to your mouth, signaling for you to tilt your head. You think back to the mysterious woman and her convincing argument.

 

‘Distraction? Are they trying to get rid of me?’

 

You turn your head away from the vial and wince at the movement. Gale seems to read your hesitant gesture. "Andromeda,” he whispers to you. Your eyes are watering; you don't want to believe he could hurt you, but he could. “This is a brew of ashes of balsam and salt. Please trust that I want only what is best for you.” You look at him; his big brown eyes are watering too. You put your lips on the vial and tilt your head. He places a hand behind your head, keeping the towel in place.

 

“Please rest, I swear no harm will come to you. Tara will sleep here in case you need anything. Just let her know, alright?” You hum in agreeance. You wish you had the courage to touch his face again and let him know you trust him, but your body feels sore and the words seem to have left your mouth. You lay down, and Gale pulls the silk blanket from under you to tuck you in. Before he turns to leave, you grab his wrist and hold the edge of his hand. “Thank you." you whisper, falling into the darkness behind your eyelids.

 

“You are most welcome." You feel a kiss pressing on your forehead. You fall into a deep slumber.

 

 

“Come see.” You hear a faint whisper inside your head. You wake up and it's still dark outside. The room was cold, and Gales beloved Tara slept comfortably on a padded chair next to the bed. You slip onto the floor quietly, following the hums calling out to you.

 

The hallway was glowing with the pearly light of the moon shining through the mosaic window. One of the last doors creaked open, the hums becoming moans.

“Come see, he is meant for me. He is meant for the weave." The voice whispers externally. You look through the small space of the open door—a small prayer room. Your breathing gets caught up in your chest, and your pulse quickens. You have never seen someone like this.

 

Gale was suspended midair, completely naked. His strong back faces the door which you hid behind. He was in a trance, his eyes glowing white, and his lips parted. He moaned and threw his head back in pleasure. You shut the door, feeling deep guilt for imposing.

 

It seems you have angered his goddess, and she is threatening you away from the wizard. Why? Why you? You have met Gale three times and haven’t shared a moment of passion together. But she knew more. She saw the force bringing both of you together. She saw the unbreakable connection you would have if she let your relationship run its course. It would ruin her plans completely; she saw the priority you could become for him and how she would remain but a figure on an obsolete altar.

 

She was willing to do anything to stop that from happening.

[akariamai]

Human

Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Android!Reader

Word Count: 1170

You retained vague memories during moments of your creation. Long nights listening to the ramblings of your creator as they built a synthetic body capable of protecting your being from both natural and unnatural forces.

You were programmed to help situate a world war 2 veteran and integrate them into a changed world. Your creator was a massive fan of the man, it was evident from the old posters hanging on the walls, collectibles neatly placed in the bookshelf, and old tapes that remain unopened. Your creator built you, an android, to assist the man in any shape possible. Anything the veteran would ask and you would complete your assignment with grace and excellence.

You could be a cleaner, a cook, a teacher, a plumber, and even a friend. You were designed to learn and adapt like a human. You looked the part, created to blend in, the only exception was you were not alive in the sense of humans. Humans are flesh and bones while you are nuts and bolts.

“Are you ready for your name?” Your creator stuffed away various tools and wires from your sight. He had waited to name you till you were fully operational.

“Yes.” You forced out a smile. Humans smiled. They smile when they’re happy, excited or content. Would this be exciting for a human? To be given a name. A label for others to recognize. “I can’t wait!” You were slowly getting used to synthetically replicating human emotions. You were designed to do so by one of the greatest minds in the world. Was that your own thought process or a programmed code?

“MODEL AX400 register your name.” He waited for a moment before replying, “[Reader].”

“My name is [Reader].” It was a monumental occasion for both your creator and you. Your creator was going to drop you off to your owner and shake a few old hands as praises were sung to him. You were going to follow your new owner, an apparent captain from World War 2, and vertically await for a command.

The ride was loud as your creator blasted his beloved music. It was evident he was in a good mood. You were perfectly operational and the location of your drop off was becoming closer and closer. You noticed the way he fidgeted as you’ve both walked closer to his favorite war hero.

“Captain!” His voice shakes a bit, “It’s an honor to meet you.”

The Captain shook his hand before offering to do the same to you. No one has ever offered to shake your hand before. You’ve been operating for a few months before this meeting.

“They’re not a person, Captain.” Your creator laughed. He found it hilarious for others to confuse you with an actual person. All his hard work melted into you and you were perfect. “This is MODEL AX400. They answer to the name [Reader].”

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” You gave him a gentle smile, “You have a very impressive record.”

Steve was stunned at your lifelike appearance and performance. He wouldn’t have guessed you were anything other than human. It was strange seeing how advanced technology had become since he went under.

“Since SHIELD cannot have a SHIELD agent be at your beck and call to help you with readjusting to society, [Reader] here will do so. She will be under your command and answer any and every question you’ll have. She can even do chores.” Your creator especially loved to boast about everything you were capable of doing. You were one of a kind after all.

“I can’t accept,” He tried to argue. There was so much unknown about the technology used to create you that he didn’t want to take the chance. It also seemed costly to just give such advanced technology to be a babysitter and educator.

“She was made specifically for you.” 

“Don’t worry, Captain Rogers.” You tried to ease his obvious apprehension, “I am equipped to handle any situation that may cause you harm. Unlike humans, I don’t get tired or sick. I am not required to have a social life so I’ll be ready for when you need me.”

“She’ll be able to handle anything that’s thrown at her.” Your creator patted your shoulder, “[Reader] is programmed to contact me if she determines a part is broken or a glitch has made its way into her programming. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

~~~

It has been a couple of days since Steve made a space for you in his apartment. He gave you a blanket in the night despite you telling him you wouldn’t get cold. In the night, you distracted yourself with gathering more information to make Steve’s apartment more homey. His apartment was bare and organized.

“Are you sure you want to come with me on a run?” It was a question he always asked before heading out. Despite knowing you weren’t a person, he still felt bad for leaving you alone while he ran. You made sure you would be able to see him at all times when he ran. You could see anything and everything able to hurt him. He was your person and you would ensure his safety.

You assured him, “I’ll be alright, Captain Rogers.” You only wanted to complete the job without any distractions.

“Steve.” He said, “You can call me Steve.”

“Okay Steve.”

It grew quiet as the two of you walked towards the door. You carried his water bottle as you followed him. He was closely becoming accustomed to your presence in his life. Any question, no matter how small, would be answered by you. Most of his questions were about events that occurred after he was missing.

There was one question that struck you as old. It was not information about an event but of a person. A woman. One of the heads of SHIELD. Upon your research, you found he and Peggy Carter were close during this time in the army. You couldn’t understand the feelings he shared for the woman but you wanted to. You told him everything that was public knowledge about the life she was able to live.

Once you both made it to the park, you sat on one of the benches as you watched. A lone monarch butterfly captured your attention as it fluttered near you. You studied it, engraving it into your memory, and stockpiling government data on the insect. Its numbers were slowly decreasing by the years. You calculated in the near future, the insect would become endangered if humans continued to deforest the wintering forest in Mexico, do nothing about climate change or insist on using pesticides that are killing off milkweed plants.

“Are you okay?” Steve was lightly sweating after his run and he noticed you weren’t there to greet him as you always did. 

You offered his water bottle, “I was… distracted. It won’t happen again.” You weren’t supposed to get distracted from your goals. You were supposed to protect and serve Steve.

Masterlist

[daydreamingleclerc]

‘tis the damn season - pierre gasly

in which, on coming back home for the holiday season you bump into an old flame and it reignites.

warnings: angsty… exes to lovers, swearing, alcohol, driving over the limit (do not do that it is illegal), charles being an agony aunt, unprotected sex, oral (m,f), fingering, i think that’s it. not been proofread, switches between 1st and 3rd person. she is a LONG one so grab a snack & buckle up.

based on the song ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift

*

there was a little cafe in your hometown that you visited frequently when you returned. it was warm and cosy in the winter, with a little fireplace in the back corner and a huge bookshelf for a wall that had everything from brontë to shakespeare to harry potter. they seemed to be the favored books judging by the spines.

it was all decked out in christmas decorations this time, with tinsel hanging from every possible surface, jolly notes on all of the mirrors, christmas music playing from the speakers across the floor and the smell of gingerbread wafting through the cafe constantly. there was even a christmas tree in the back corner where people could place presents for people less fortunate than them; it was a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

Y/N was hasten to admit that she spent most of her time here when she was back at home. she only came back for the occasional birthday and the holidays — after living here for almost twenty one years of her life, she didn’t want to spend more time here than she had to.

she was always working, writing out the next chapter of her book, or she read when she needed an escape from her own fantasies. thriller books were an endless supply of exciting when she read them throughout her life, but writing them seemed to be a little bit more difficult.

everything was spread out on the small table in front of her, and as the world moved around her — kids with that excited christmas buzz, parents who couldn’t wait for school to re-start, the elderly who just needed company over the christmas period — she tucked her legs under her bum and continued reading.

“wuthering heights always used to be one of your favorites.”

she paused momentarily, her eyes lifting from the pages of the book only slightly, not enough to take in the stature of the man standing opposite her. she tried not to let the look on her face change, she tried to act like she couldn’t tell who it was just by the breath that left his mouth, but it was too late.

“what copy is that one now? probably the fifth, sixth, even.”

“what’re you doing here, pierre?”

she didn’t mean to come off as brash, or snappy, but those things happened when she thought about him. that was the first time she’d looked at him since leaving, and she was stunned by the way he’d matured. his hair was neat, dark brunette now compared to the long, messy blonde it was when she last saw him. his eyes were still blue, cheekbones still defined. the facial hair really stood out to her, she’d never seen him so rugged before.

“the same as you,” he replied, “back for the holidays.”

“your parents don’t live down this end of town,” you scrunched your up your nose and folded the page down on the book.

“they moved,” he stated plainly, “they live next to charles’ mom now.”

you nodded, the tension among you was painfully awkward, and you found yourself wishing pierre would just leave. he rocked back and forth on his heels gently as he waited patiently for his order to be made; he’d drifted away from the counter and so he knew they’d have to shout it over to him eventually.

“that’s nice,” you replied, filling the silence with words you thought fitting. kids ran past the table with crayons and colouring sheets as they sang along to the song on the speakers, their christmas buzz effortlessly innocent. a drastic difference to the pair of you.

“my mom said she saw your books out in the local bookshop, apparently they were the front window display,” he said, unsure if he should pull up a chair or stay standing; safe to say he chose the latter. you’d been cold with him for almost two years now, he couldn’t blame you. “she said she almost bought one, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed.”

a little flicker of a smile rose on your face, but it quickly faded when someone walked past with a tray of drinks. it was as if you didn’t want to be seen talking to him; which once again, he couldn’t blame you for.

“of course she’s allowed, my problem’s not with your mom,” you realised quickly that the sentence didn’t quite land the way it was supposed to. you placed the book down on the counter. “shit, that’s, uh.. i didn’t mean it like that.”

pierre shook his head sternly, as if telling her to forget about it. he looked down at the table in front of you and saw proofs of what looked like a new manuscript, with jots and doodles labeled all along the margins.

“are you writing a new one?”

“mhm,” was all you managed to say, and you looked up at him for a short second, “murder mystery.”

the fireplace beside you crackled and that was the first time pierre noticed it was even burning, “my favourite,” he chuckled dryly, choking back his adam’s apple as he thought desperately of things to say.

“you probably can’t say what it’s about, can you?”

“i don’t really think—”

“—pumpkin spice cappuccino with an extra shot and a chocolate hazelnut croissant to go?” the barista shouted pierre’s order, and he turned around and waved. it was frantic, and you weren’t really sure why or how you lurched out to spoke to him; it just happened like clockwork.

“it’s about a woman called estelle who goes missing, if there’s no body there’s no crime,” pierre smiled as you spoke, and for a fleeting second it felt like you were teenagers again. he took the drink and the small paper bag from the barista and looked over at you once more, “and this is my sixth copy of wuthering heights.”

*

charles’ mom’s annual christmas get together was the last place she wanted to be. y/n wanted to be tucked up in bed with a hot chocolate, surrounded by yet more proofs of her next chapter which she would undoubtedly be editing until the early hours.

yet, there she was. in charles’ mom’s front room, surrounded by the people she grew up with; including pierre.

he glanced at her with a watchful eye all evening, sipping at his red wine until the glass emptied and the process repeated. she’d hardly noticed she’d drank almost two bottles of white to herself, until she went to pour herself another glass only to find that it was dripping out into the glass after about 50ml poured out.

“Y/N, i’ve not seen you drink this much in years,” charles nudged his friend, sitting back, “what’s up?”

she glanced back over at pierre, who’s gaze averted hers almost immediately after she looked over. “i saw him today for the first time in… i don’t know? however long it’s been since i left, and i just…” she took a minute to compose herself, placing the glass on the floor so she didn’t spill whatever was in there, “it just brought everything back about everything that happened between us and it reminded me why i left in the first place.”

charles’ arm wrapped around her shoulders, his drunken state seemed to dim in the airing of Y/N’s feelings. she felt bad bringing up old wounds, especially about bitching to charles over a relationship that spanned four years and ended almost three years ago.

“i’m not expecting you to take sides, charles,” you patted his leg, “i know he’s your best friend and i know you’re racing together now, it’s unfair of me to offload on you but—”

“—i always said what he did to you was fucking stupid, Y/N,” charles rested his back against his mothers sofa and Y/N followed suite. “and if truth be told i’ve never let him live it down, you have every right to feel how you feel, and you have every right to vent out how you feel, but have you told him?”

Y/N looked between charles and pierre. her ex-boyfriend scowled over at the pair, an irritated knot between his eyebrows. she knew he was trying to decipher what they were talking about, whispers of his name could be seen tumbling out of their lips and it made his ears stand to attention. charles had that soft, doe-eyed look on his face, the one that begged Y/N to be his friend all those years ago when they were at school together.

“of course i haven’t, i can barely look at him charles,” she muttered, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, “i’m pretty pissed off that he’s still hot, he could’ve gone back to the haircut he had when we started dating, maybe then i wouldn’t be so mad.”

she thought about their first date at the movies, with pierre’s stupid long, justin bieber-esque hair with blonde tips. it was so stupid, and he cut it off soon after they started to date.

“i’m sure he’s just as pissed off as you are,” charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he fumbled for the words to say, “i mean… because, well… leaving this town was… it did great things for you.”

“that was really hard for you, wasn’t it?”

pierre’s eyes got thinner when he caught the pair of you laughing. he was jealous, he wanted you all to himself even though he had no right to be jealous.

“i just mean that going away really changed you in the best way,” he nudged you again, “i think you ought to tell him.”

charles was right. Y/N knew he was right and she knew she should tell pierre, at least if not for herself so she could move on with her life. the réalisation suddenly dawned on her that she’d hardly dated in the last two years, and as a twenty four year old woman, that was embarrassing.

“okay fine,” she huffed. “but first, let’s get drunk.”

several hours passed, and Y/N’s vision was going blotchy. she didn’t intend to drink as much as she did in such a short amount of time, but every time she thought about opening up to pierre, she ended up with another drink in her hand.

pascale’s liquor cupboard was almost completely raided, but she didn’t mind. she insisted that ‘this is exactly what her parties were for!’ and so, Y/N used that to her advantage. even arthur struggled to keep up with her, and he was the youngest out of the bunch.

“no, charles, it’s late,” Y/N’s words were slurred as she fumbled with her jacket in order to get ready to leave, “you already have half the party staying with you. my car isn’t far away.”

“no, no way, Y/N, you’re not driving.”

“charles, i’m fine,” she whined, but her breath said otherwise. his face twisted at the smell of her alcoholic breath, “please let me go home.”

“i’ll call you a taxi,” he snatched her car keys from her hand.

“no need, i can drive her home.”

pierre’s voice came into earshot, and Y/N grumbled. she wanted another drink. charles turned to face his friend, a raised eyebrow. “are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“charles, i had two glasses of red wine three hours ago, i’m fine.”

charles shook his head and pulled pierre over to one side, “no, i mean… are you sure it’s a good idea driving Y/N home?”

pierre looked over at Y/N, and he couldn’t leave her to get a taxi or walk home on her own, and he was the only person leaving the party at the same time; everyone else was crashing.

“charles, i’m sorry but i’m not leaving her, she’s not safe on her own.”

“can you two girls stop gossiping and tell me what’s going on?”

charles snickered and pierre smirked softly. your sarcasm when drunk was one of their favourite things about you.

“pierre’s gonna drive you home,” charles handed the keys to pierre, and much to Y/N’s disgust, she didn’t have another option. “he’ll make sure you get there safely. you know that.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around charles’ shoulders and gave him a cuddle, before stumbling out of his front door into the chilly december air. pierre caught up to her, keeping an eye on her stumbling as she walked in her suede boots, trying to make sure she didn’t trip over and break her ankle.

“how far away is your car, Y/N?”

“parked it between the methodist church and the high school,” she said, slurring her words even more now she was out in the cold air. “it’s not that far of a walk.”

“slow down,” pierre reached out for Y/N, wrapping his hand around her clothed arm as she walked. she immediately slowed, and they walked side by side now. “you’re gonna break a bone or something silly and christmas will be ruined.”

she let out a little laugh. “sorry, this was the last way i intended to spend my evening, no offense.”

“none taken,” he held up his free hand. he could see the road between the church and the school, and the sparse row of cars lining it, “i just couldn’t let you get in a taxi on your own… and i also didn’t want you to get arrested for drunk driving.”

“how romantic,” Y/N replied sarcastically. they crossed the road and she patted the boot of her car to let pierre know it was hers. he realised then that being an author paid rather well, seeing as the car was almost brand new. “i’d appreciate it if you stopped drooling over my rear plates and take me home.”

“Y/N Y/L/N drinking all night and not asking for a pitstop at mcdonald’s?” he questioned, unlocking the car doors with the press of a button and slipping inside, “maybe you really have changed.”

“shut up, pierre,” Y/N grumbled, trying not to show the look of amusement on her face, “just take me home.”

he helped Y/N buckle in her seatbelt and made sure she was safely strapped in before hitting the road. he wasn’t as much of a reckless driver as she remembered; but he got a kick out of driving stupidly thanks to his day job now.

as he continued to drive, Y/N began to rummage around the globe compartments. “are you looking for something?”

“thirsty,” she muttered, “i had a bottle of water in here earlier but i don’t know where i — ow!”

as Y/N rose from her curved back position only to hit her head on the sun visor and trapped her finger in the glove compartment.

“are you okay?”

“fine,” she muttered, soothing her sore finger and throbbing head. “just want some water.”

despite being less than five minutes from Y/N’s house, pierre pulled over at the nearest petrol station. he could’ve waited, drove her home and got her water when she was there, but he knew how she got when she was drunk. she would break every glass in that cupboard to find the one she wanted.

“stay there, Y/N.” he said, unstrapping himself and locking the door behind him. Y/N sighed to herself, alternating between sucking on her finger now and rubbing her head. she couldn’t nurse both minor injuries at once or else she got nauseous and overstimulated.

“here, drink this,” he handed her a cold bottle of water and she took it in her hands, the temperature sending tingles up her arms. as pierre strapped in, he threw some things into the back seat. “got you some food and painkillers, too.”

Y/N smiled at him, a genuine smile that warmed his body from the bottom to the top. “thank you.”

“don’t mention it,” he smiled back at her, and the two were lost in a moment before he snapped out of it and reignited the engine. “right, let’s get you home.”

they pulled up in Y/N’s parents driveway, and pierre grabbed the snacks from the back seat and got Y/N to hook her arm through his so she didn’t stumble off and break anything. he fumbled with the keys as she told him which was the one for her parents house, until eventually the door swung open.

pierre was unsure where to go from here. he didn’t want to leave her, she needed to sober up a bit before he felt safe to leave, but he’d done what he said he was going to do; and there was almost no way he expected to stay.

“come in, then,” she whispered, “you’re letting the cold in and my parents’ll be pissed off.”

“i don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N,” pierre took a step back. “i’ll just hand you your things and i’ll walk back to my mom’s.”

“no,” she grabbed out for his arm and squeezed the flesh, “please, stay. i, uh… it’s almost two in the morning and i would really appreciate the help in preventing an awful hangover.”

he entered the house, the scent familiar, a part of his history he’d kept locked away in the back of his mind for so long. the place hadn’t changed since he last saw it, and for that he was relieved.

pierre helped Y/N up the stairs and to her bedroom, easing her bum down on the mattress and she sighed in content. “how’s your finger?”

“sore,” she said, allowing him to hold it in his hands and inspect the flesh. “do you think it’s broken?”

“no, probably just bruised.” he deciphered.

the two sat in silence for a minute, the only sounds filling the room being their heartbeats and breathing. pierre wasn’t sure where to go next, he didn’t want to bring up ancient history and upset Y/N, but he also didn’t want to act as if it was never there. she felt the same.

“i was speaking to charles at the party,” she hummed, realizing that tonight was probably the only chance she was ever going to get to speak to him about what happened, and she had to use it to her advantages. “i was airing out my frustrations over you, and he said the only way i was going to get over them is if i expressed them to you.”

“ah.”

“i don’t think i need to state the obvious and say that what you did really hurt me,” she continued, “but for what it’s worth it did, but i’m sure you of all people know that. i just need to do this so i get closure, so i can move on from that situation without it hanging over my head like a bad omen. does that make sense?”

pierre nodded his head. Y/N had been more articulate and spoken more to him in the last 90 seconds than she had in the last two years.

“completely,” he gave her a soft smile, “i’m sorry. i want you to know that. it was the stupidest, most immature thing i’ve ever done and charles still hasn’t let me forget it.”

“it’s nice to know that he keeps you in check.”

the pair of you shared a laugh, and after finishing the bottle of water and knocking back a few preemptive painkillers, you felt so much better.

“i should get ready for bed.” you hummed. pierre nodded and shot up from the bed, walking to the door.

“right, yeah, i’ll uh… i’ll get some blankets and a pillow, sleep on the sofa.”

Y/N wasn’t sure where it came from, in fact, she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. they just did.

“pierre, wait.” the man did as she asked, halting just by the knob of the door and turning to face her. what she did next was something not even he expected.

she shrugged off her jacket and slowly began to one by one undo the buttons on her blouse, her eyes never leaving pierre’s face as she did so. “stay, just for a little longer.”

pierre knew better than to be enticed. he knew better than to get lured into this wicked game, than to give into the devilish temptation that would undoubtedly split open a can of worms and create more harm than good. but then again…

his feet had a mind of their own and walked towards her, lips finding hers in the most effortless of ways. he pushed the blouse off of her shoulders, the warmth of her skin against his was a sensation he’d missed dearly.

her hands wrapped around his neck and tugged at the tufts of hair along the back. she seemed unable to break away from the kiss, fighting her urges to pull away for air until she absolutely had to. pierre’s hands were chilly on her waist, igniting goosebumps on the warm flesh. there was no need for words, and so they didn’t fill the air with useless breath.

Y/N’s hands trailed underneath the cotton of pierre’s white shirt, the heat of his abdomen leaving little to her imagination. pierre’s lips dropped down to Y/N’s neck as his hands moved up to the clasp on her bra, and he admired her chest for a moment before working his way down towards it.

“god, i was so fuckin’ stupid,” one of his lips attached to a nipple, and you stood there with a half open mouth, attempting to push off his shirt as he worked against them.

“mhm,” you breathed. “so stupid.”

his fingers curled into the waistband of your skirt and tights, and carefully he pushed them down your legs until they pooled at your ankles, the only thing covering you from him now was just your underwear.

you successfully managed to push his shirt off of him, and he got you to lay back across your bed, and slung your legs up over his shoulders.

your underwear was lace, and so as he ripped a the stitches one by one until it eventually broke apart, and you were left unable to complain because the feeling of his tongue roaming your pussy was simply too good.

you’d missed feeling his tongue all over you, and oh god, had he gotten better. his mouth worked on your clit relentlessly, and with every flick of the sensitive bud you cried out, desperate to keep quiet so your parents didn’t wake up.

y/n’s hands found pierre‘s hair and she tugged on it exactly like she used to all those years ago whenever they found themselves in this position. her mouth fell open into an O, and she found herself lost for breath and moaning pierre’s name over again.

“ssh,” he whispered, pulling his lips away from her clit momentarily, “we don’t wanna wake the house, do we?”

she shook her head and he continued to work on her clit, using new and old techniques alike to bring her to a mind-numbing, leg shaking orgasm.

she bit down on her lip so hard that she drew blood, a moan of pierre’s name leaving her lips. he pulled away, and instead of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he leaned down and kissed you, just the way you used to love it.

“fucking hell,” she breathed, and when his fingers curled inside her, the breath that was half out caught at the back of her throat. “your fingers… they feel so…”

Y/N couldn’t finish the sentence, too caught up in the way pierre’s fingers worked at her g-spot, alternating between hitting it and his thumb circling the clit. her legs were still thrown over his shoulders, and as he inched further and further up, the angle got deeper and deeper.

“oh… fuck, pierre,” she whined, “please… please don’t… fuck, don’t stop.”

“i won’t, babe,” he kissed along her thighs, “you’re doing so well for me, hm? gonna cum for me again?”

she nodded, breathless and squirming as pierre’s fingers sped up, the alternation of his fingers becoming shorter and faster. she gripped at the sheets with one hand and tugged at his hair with the other, unable to hold back a string of moans and profanities as her second orgasm washed over her.

“need you,” was all she could say. her voice was feeble and embarrassing; she was well aware that she’d spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to get over pierre, and she’d spend so long avoiding it that what she really needed now was to feel him buried inside of her once again.

“i know baby, i know,” he cooed, unbuckling his belt and ridding himself of the clothing covering his bottom half. your face flushed when you saw him naked, as if you’d never seen him like that before. “do you have anything?”

Y/N froze in that moment — of course she didn’t. this is not how she intended to spend her christmas holiday. “shit,” her head fell to her hands, “i don’t have anything, do you?”

pierre shook his head.

“i’m on the pill,” she said after a moment of silence. “it’ll be fine, p.”

his mouth turned up at the name she always used to say to him. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to, no pressure.”

“i want to.”

she was sure, affirmative. pierre nodded, leaning over her and pressing a long, hot kiss to her lips. he made sure she was comfortable, placing her legs up so her knees were facing the ceiling and her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

it felt like a dream when he slipped inside of her, to both of them. she was the perfect mixture of stimulated that he found it easy to drag along her walls, and she was also clenching around him like a vice. he was the perfect potion of slow and needy, as if he desperately wanted to feel her encapsulating around him, but he knew his limits.

pierre’s breathing fell ragged, and he was left with a hitch in his throat. his forehead fell against hers and already she could feel the beads of sweat lining it as his eyes fluttered open and shut in a repeat cycle.

“oh, you’re so tight,” he groaned, lips nipping at her chin before coming to lock around hers, “so warm.”

she nodded, too caught up in the feeling of it all to even speak. she let her legs drop, her feet turning inwards and her knees poking out to the sides, leaving the angle wider so pierre could hit deeper.

she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and arched up her back, “oh my… oh…” was all she said, small moans tumbling from her lips in sweet moments of bliss.

“you are so beautiful,” he whispered, admiring the way her eyes rolled back as he outstretched one of her legs, “do you know that?”

“mhm,” was all she could say, a blush creeping it’s way up her cheeks.

pierre changed his angle slightly and soon enough his pace quickened, leaving Y/N on the brink of her third orgasm. it wouldn’t be long, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was moaning and clenching around him as if her life depended on it; pierre probably knew too, but he wanted to watch her unfold while he fucked her.

his lips found her neck, sucking on the soft flesh until a red mark blossomed. Y/N couldn’t hold herself back. “pierre, i’m gonna cum,” she fought back a cry as her back arched again. he fucked her through the orgasm, lips finding hers as she moaned and cried into his mouth to muffle the sound.

her orgasm left him teetering on the edge, but he knew better than to allow himself to cum inside her when there was no barrier between them, and so, he pulled out. Y/N poured at the lack of fullness inside of her, but she soon got onto her shaking hands and knees to help pierre out.

he laid flat down on the bed, head almost dangling off the edge, while she situated herself between his legs. hers were awfully shaky, and she knew she needed to hold onto him for stability while she got him off. he didn’t mind.

her lips wrapped around his head instinctively, and she used her free hand for what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. pierre desperately tried to fight off moans and groans, allowing the odd one to slip through his lips as he stroked at her hair.

she was better than he had remembered her to be, but after that long apart he should’ve expected it to be better. Y/N’s head bobbed and her tongue twirled and flicked at his head, until pierre could feel the knot in his stomach.

he sat up, arising to his knees while she made sure to stay level with his cock, tongue splayed out underneath it. his hand tugged at the flesh until he came, hot white cum spraying over her face.

he came with a groan, allowing himself to enjoy the moment as much as he could while it lasted.

he helped Y/N clean her face with paper towels, and when the pair were done, she lay down with her head in the pillows while he stayed in a sitting position.

“this was nice,” she hummed, “amazing, actually.”

“i know it was babe,” he kissed her cheek, pushing the hair from her face. he paused momentarily to check the time on the clock behind Y/N on her bedside table; 3:04. “i should really get going.”

Y/N’s eyes trailed to the clock where she checked the time too, and her hand outstretched into pierre’s. “no, it’s late,” she smiled softly, “please, stay.”

“right,” he nodded, half expecting her to shun him out at the first chance she got. “i’ll go and get some blankets, sleep on the floor.”

“no,” she said, grabbing his hand again. “you can sleep in here — in bed, i mean — with me, if you want.”

pierre smiled.

“sure.”