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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

Note

Hello!! If it isn't too much to ask, could you make a Fred fic with reader on her period? Mine are absolutely excruciating, especially in the first two days, to the point of crying on the floor and stuff :(( it's totally okay if you don't want to, I just like to imagine Fred trying his hardest to pamper his s/o (and probably freak out a bit because honestly, periods are a nightmare men will never understand). Have a nice day ♡

Anon, it would be my pleasure! I’m so sorry you’re suffering, I had an endo flare up last week that nearly sent me to A&E so you have my full sympathy. You know that feeling when you could destroy the world and everyone in it but then your period starts and you realise that it’s been that all along? 🖤

Warnings: mentions of periods, menstural cycle, PMS, blood, pain. Best friend George, Fred is a sweetheart.

Words: 3.4k

You'd had a really terrible day, a horrible, never-ending bore of a day, at least in your mind. It started from the very second you woke up, alone in bed without Fred beside you. You'd slept through your first alarm and had nearly been late for an interview you'd had scheduled for months within the Department of Mysteries. You'd taken the visitors entrance to the Ministry to acquire your required visitors badge and had been held up by some Muggle incident that had rendered London at a near standstill.

The interview, thankfully, had gone well but you couldn't help but fixate on the discomfort you felt in yourself the entire time. Your clothes felt uncomfortable and restrictive and you felt bloated to the point that it was showing through your clothes.

You'd had plans to meet with Arthur after your interview for a cuppa and a catch-up at the small cafeteria whilst he took his break, something you'd been looking forward to all week. You made your way back down to Level two where the department of magical law enforcement was and walked through the mini atrium until you located the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, only to be informed by Perkins that Arthur was running a tad late, caught up with something that required his immediate attention. Though this was far from unfamiliar, your temper had flared and you had barely managed to contain it, choosing instead to silently seethe as you waited in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs near the main desk. You weren't mad at Arthur by any means, you don't think you'd even been mad at him, but having to stay in uncomfortable clothing and wait when you were already having a bad day was just irritating you further and further as time dragged on, not helped by the incessant ticking from the muggle cuckoo clock on the wall that was driving you mad.

Arthur finally emerged twenty minutes later, apologising profusely as he grabbed his coat and ushered you back into the lift, a bright smile on his face as he began asking you about how your interview went and how his son was. You'd spent a nice half an hour together having a cup of tea and a freshly made slice of cake, something he was keeping a secret from Molly, but as you parted and made your way out of the Ministry to travel home, your mood had almost immediately soured again.

The street was still busier than usual, the noise of people shouting and car horns honking were essentially non stop and you couldn't wait to get home and relax away from the chaos. You had to stop by the shop on the way home for some ingredients for dinner that night and found upon entering the shop that they were completely out of what you needed. You huffed out a breath, feeling yourself getting worked up again and tried desperately to think of alternative ideas to work with what you already had at home but your mind was foggy and unable to concentrate, coming up with nothing. You felt like crying, stood in the middle of a crowed aisle in the muggle supermarket, feeling utterly pathetic. You cursed under your breath and moved away from the aisle towards the exit when you passed the small bakery counter, the sight alone of the small chocolate fudge cake on display enough to make you pause. Without hesitation you bought the cake and walked straight to the checkout, feeling defeat at not getting what was needed for dinner but at the same time, feeling a little victory at acquiring the chocolate cake you were so looking forward to.

You were exhausted by the time you opened the door to the apartment, cursing Fred in your mind for placing the anti-apparition jinx upon the store and the flat above and for not fixing the floo function on the fireplace which had forced you to manually travel into central London and back and then walk up four flights of stairs in your business heels. You were in a foul mood, tired and ready to snap from the day filled with complications and irritations.

You walked into the kitchen to place the cake on the side after kicking off your heels and saw a load of dirty pots piled up in the sink and a mess made on nearly every surface of the countertop, clearly from one of the twins on their lunch break.

You let out an aggrieved groan and slammed down the bag containing the cake on the small kitchen table, huffing and cursing under your breath as you chucked down your wand and walked immediately into the bedroom in a huff.

You rolled your eyes seeing the wardrobe doors open and the bed covers strewn everywhere from your rush this morning and groaned again, now in disdain for your own actions. You walked off once again, now annoyed at yourself and stepped into the thankfully rather tidy bathroom. You started the shower, wanting to wash the entire day away and get out of your uncomfortable clothes immediately which you happily threw onto the bathroom floor without a single care.

The shower helped, feeling a little cleansed by the water and familiar scents of your shower gel, though it didn't remove your bad mood entirely; thoughts of the messy kitchen and lack of dinner ingredients were still playing on your mind only winding you up more. You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a big fluffy towel and walked into the bedroom to put your comfy clothes on, a big T-shirt that used to belong to Fred and your black joggers, aiming for ultimate comfort. You hadn't heard from George or Fred today except for the nice note they'd left on the fridge door wishing you luck for your interview, though it wasn't unusual, the shop was always busy.

You walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring the mess and pits that were not yours to clean and made yourself a cup of tea, almost crying as you looked at the slither of milk left in the fridge. It was enough for one cup of tea but nothing more and you cursed yourself again for not thinking of grabbing milk whilst you were at the shop.

You sat down in the living room with your cup of tea, wet hair thrown up in a lazy bun and had just pulled open the book you were currently reading when Fred burst through the apartment door.

"Ooh there's my princess, how did your interview go?" He says loudly, bombarding you instantly with a kiss to the head and throwing himself down onto the sofa beside you. You closed your eyes in annoyance, just wanting to relax and on the cusp of being able to before he interrupted.

"It was fine," you replied with a shrug, really not feeling up to explaining your day just now. "They said I'd receive an owl by the end of the week."

"Know you'll get it princess, always have been the smart one," he says, apparently thinking nothing of your rather clipped reply.

"Anyway, we're taking you to dinner tonight to celebrate," he says in a sing-song manner, stretching out on the sofa to put his feet up on the coffee table.

"But I haven't gotten the job," you countered, placing down your book, casting one last sad glance at the cover.

"Yet," he replies, stretching out and pulling open his tie just a fraction, eyes closed with a smirk tugging at his lips.

Any other day you'd have jumped at the chance to go out for a meal with your loved ones but upon looking at your comfy yet completely inappropriate outfit to go out in, your face fell. You'd have to put actual clothes back on, do your hair again and reapply your makeup that you'd just scrubbed off in the shower. You couldn't be bothered, at all. You wanted to sit and read with your cup of tea, switch off your brain and eat your weight in chocolate cake. But then you remembered that you had no solid idea or complete ingredient list for any viable meal and maybe going out would be the only way of eating that night.

You felt another wave of annoyance come over you as you considered having to get all done up again. Couldn't they have warned you? Left a note or something so that you didn't shower the minute you got in? You knew you were diverting into unreasonable territory as they were just trying to do something nice but you couldn't help it, you'd rather vomit slugs than have to get ready all over again and out of your comfort clothes.

"Anyway, best get back or George'll curse my eyebrows off, 7pm gorgeous, wear something sexy," he says, straightening his toe as he wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, "proud of you sweetheart." And then he's gone and you're left reeling.

Wear something sexy? Who the bloody hell was he to request that? Your boyfriend of years, but still.

You looked down at your outfit again and felt a ridiculous but prominent sense of loss, wanting to stay bundled up forever. You check the clock on the wall and feel aggravated once again as you see that it's nearly 5:50pm and you'd have to start getting ready. You begrudgingly dragged yourself into the bedroom and sat at your little table, staring into the mirror and felt no motivation or desire to get ready, looking at the drawers in front of you but not actually wanting to open them.

That's how George found you a little before 7 as he slipped away from the shop, seeing you sitting at your makeup table in tears. He rushed in as soon as he saw your tears and crouched down to try and comfort you, eagerly listening though it must have been hard for him as the crying was affecting your voice and all that came out were a few unintelligible whines.

"I just don't want to," you say with a hiccup, wiping away your fear from your cheek. You didn't think it would actually get this bad but your curls hadn't gone right, the hairbrush you found was not your favourite and sometimes pulled your hair a little as it brushed through and nothing at all would make you look sexy tonight with your bloating. You didn't want to wear uncomfortable heels again, nor walk anywhere in them and by the time you'd gotten to take a sip of your tea, it was cold.

"Shh, it's alright," George says soothingly trying to calm you. He placed his hand on your shoulder but quickly removed it as he saw your little glance at it. It wasn't that you didn't want to be touched per se, but his touch very heavy on your already uncomfortable body. "We don't have to go, it was only an idea."

You sniffled miserably and looked at your best friend, wiping away the tears. "But we don't have anything for tea, they didn't have any-."

"Then we'll order in, get something delivered or we'll nip out and bring something back," he says, not quite interrupting you but just enough to make you stop spiralling. You nodded meekly, feeling utterly pathetic again. "Right, I'll go tell Fred we're staying in, then we'll close up and order something okay? Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?"

You'd seen his eyes flicker to your still full mug and frown as he entered, figuring it was something that had set you off. You shook your head, already feeling like he'd done too much for you.

"Okay, we'll be back as soon as we can," he squeezes your shoulder and walks out.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, makeup sparingly applied but messed up thanks to your tears and your hair curled but not how you wanted it and sighed, feeling overwhelmed with guilt at shooting down your boyfriend and his brother. They'd only tried to do something nice and you'd completely spoiled it, too selfish and caught up in your own feelings that you'd been unreasonable and unkind. You considered wiping the makeup off your face but thought better of it but you reach for a big scrunchie and tie your hair back into a high ponytail, making you feel a little better.

You threw back on your comfy clothes and trudged into the kitchen, retrieving your wand to cast a few spells that had the kitchen cleared in no time. You poured away your cold tea and put the kettle back on, still seeking the comfort as you had before.

The twins closed up the shop in record time and Fred pulled you into the bedroom with him as he undressed, slipping out of his suit and into his own loungewear.

"Princess you should have said," he says gently, reaching for you, his hand cradling your face as he looks into your eyes, "I didn't mean to pressure you."

"No it's not you, I've just been off all day, everything's irritating me and I just want to switch off," you explained, hearing the remorse in your voice.

"Then relax you shall," he says with a smirk, "kiss first though?" His cheeky smile extends to his eyes and you catch his gaze flicker at your lips. You eagerly reach up on your tiptoes to place a sweet kiss onto his lips and you pull away smiling, feeling like it's the first time you'd properly smiled all day.

George ordered food for you all before hopping in the shower and arrived back in the living room wearing his comfiest pyjamas, pulling you into him for a hug as Fred fired up your favourite muggle movie on the TV, also joining you on the large sofa.

It was pitch black when you woke up, your eyes struggling to focus as you came around, confused as to what had woken you up. You could hear Fred breathing deeply and evenly, sound asleep. You looked at the little alarm clock beside the bed, lifting your head up from the place between the pillow and Fred's shoulder where your head rested and saw that it was 2:34am. As your consciousness begins to clear, you frown, feeling a soreness in your abdomen that you couldn't place, feeling as if you needed the toilet but without the urge to go.

You extracted yourself from your boyfriend's side, which never proved to be an easy feat, and walked to the bathroom, dragging your tired body along. You turned on the light and quickly shut the door to stop the light from disturbing your sleeping boyfriend and sat down on the toilet, turning the tap on out of habit. You pulled down your sleep shorts and underwear and immediately understood why you had an ache in your stomach, and why you'd been out of sorts all day.

Your period.

Every month without fail, the moment you discover your period had started, the pain heightens at least ten notches. You winced as you wiped, kicking off your underwear and shorts that were soiled and dragged yourself into the shower. For the second time, you sighed as you entered the shower, your body screaming at you out of exhaustion as you rinsed yourself off. You grabbed a towel and raced into the bedroom to grab a pair of panties from the dresser and ran back into the bathroom to sort your pad out. You then slipped on some new pyjamas and dragged yourself back to the bed, illuminating your wand to check that nothing had gotten onto the sheets, or worse on your boyfriend sleeping beside you. Luckily, it hadn't.

You suddenly didn't feel tired anymore, body wired from your lukewarm shower. You walked to the kitchen, padding through the flat on barefoot and flicked the kettle on, searching through the cupboard above for a jar of hot chocolate you kept in.

You grabbed your hot drink and flicked on a lamp before you pulled a black cushion from the side of the sofa to sit on, not wanting anymore accidents to happen. You didn't turn on the TV right away but instead chose to sit in the partially illuminated room and try and wind down. You couldn't get comfy at all, wiggling your hips to try and ease the ache between them, feeling like your lower abdomen was being constricted from the inside, shooting pains going down your leg and an uncomfortable pressure in your bum. You could sob with the pain, wanting to curl up in a ball and cry but you couldn't, I'm too much pain to even try and move, your entire energy being consumed by simply existing right now.

Your periods had always been bad, starting just before your third year at Hogwarts and though through time they had evened out a little, they were still unpredictable at best and monstrous at worst. You shifted your hips again, trying to relieve the tension you felt and groaned quietly, wishing that you'd filled up your hot water bottle before sitting down.

Medicine in the wizarding world was spectacularly different from the muggle word though a little less advanced as the wizarding community came with added complications such as diseases and ailments that muggles would never know existed. Witches and Wizards often didn't react well to normal muggle remedies nor pharmaceuticals, something you'd learned at Hogwarts from Madame Pomfrey, something about the magical ability burning through modern pharmaceuticals at a rapid rate, rendering them ineffective.

You placed your mug on your stomach to try and gain some heat from it and rested your head back on the sofa, breathing deeply and trying to calm yourself so that you could go back to bed. Feeling yourself getting sleepy, you placed down your mug and pulled a soft blanket over you, trying to get comfy as you settled into the soft material of the plush sofa.

"Princess?" You heard a quiet voice call out, your eyes on the verge of closing. You opened them just a little, sensing Fred's presence behind you and you twisted in position to look at him, wincing as a bolt of pain shot through your groan at the motion.

"What are you doing out here? George snoring too loud again?" You smiled appreciatively for the joke and reached out for him with grabby hands, needing some comfort. He wordlessly slipped in beside you on the sofa and immediately wrapped you around him, blankets and all as he kept you bundled up. You reached for his large hand, feeling the absurd heat he always radiated under your fingers and placed his hand onto your tummy. The heat from his hand spread over your skin instantly and you could feel it penetrating deeper and deeper, soothing your pain.

"That time?" He asks delicately and you nod into his chest, your eyes still heavy as you breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of Fred. "Want your water bottle?" You paused, considering it but slowly shook you head.

"Not right now, got you," you mumbled into his chest, his warmth and presence soothing you further into sleep. You felt him chuckle, chest rumbling with the vibration and he reach down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Out of ten?" He asks, keeping his hand placed delicately on your belly.

"Eight at least," you groan, your eyes closing as your toes twitch out of the intensity of the pain.

"Oookay, what can I do?" He asks, clearly a little freaked out by the high level of pain you admitted, knowing that it really must have been bad as you always had a high pain threshold.

"Just sit with me," you say, feeling depleted.

"Wanna go to bed or are you happy here?" He says after a few minutes. The heat from his hand has begun to feel redundant, your skin now the same temperature as his.

"Water bottle first?" You asked innocently, hopeful that he'd accommodate you. He presses another kiss to your head and tells you he'll bring it in before shoo'ing you into the bedroom where you sink down into the soft sheets, finally feeling comforted enough to close your eyes.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #requests #period fic #Fred Weasley comfort fic #comfort fic

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5eraphim · 7 months

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MASTER LIST ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧

(LAST UPDATED 10/30/2023)

⚠️this is an 18+ Account!!! Minors Please NO NOT INTERACT!! This is a general content warning for angst, yandere, non/dubcon, and other such upsetting topics. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE: Do NOT interact if any off this is triggering or offensive to you. Your media consumption is your responsibility, you have been warned.⚠️

(reblogs are always appreciated ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡)

TIP JAR // RULES FOR REQUESTS

₊˚⊹ One shots ( ♡₊˚ = personal favorites)

⋆Big Slugger (Yandere Scout)

Content warnings: yandere, gunplay (obvi), blowjob, bloodplay (?), humiliation, noncon

⋆Nocturnal Intrusion (Dark Junkrat)

noncon, degradation, humiliation, rough play, break-in

⋆A Wrench to Grind (Dark Engineer) ♡₊˚

Noncon, mating press, misogyny (AFAB Reader), slapping, choking, rough, bad ending, Engie straight up uses reader's mouth as an ashtray...

⋆Call Me Little Faulein (Yandere Medic)

Praise kink, voice kink, sensory deprivation, abuse of power, oral (female receiving), misuse of medical equipment

⋆Laid to Rest (Yandere Spy) ♡₊˚

hurt/comfort, yandere, forced intimacy, depression, unhealthy relationship dynamics, angst

⋆Big Slugger Pt. II (Yandere Scout)

dubcon, alcohol, yandere, forced relationship gunplay, humiliation

⋆Cruelest (Classic Heavy) ♡₊˚

Dubcon, abuse of power, oral (male and female receiving), size kink, shaming, edging, BAD ENDING, rough

⋆Nuthin' Personal (Dark Engie, Dark Sniper and Heavy) ♡₊˚

noncon, three way, Dark!Characterization, humiliation, AFAB reader, oral (male receiving), choking, knives, blood, punishment, double penetration, spit, groping, jarate used for SPITE, bad ending

⋆S'nowhere to Go (Yandere Heavy)

hurt/comfort, forced intimacy, dubcon, yandere, canon divergence, thigh ridding, unhealthy relationship, handjob

⋆John 1:9 (Dark Medic) ♡₊˚

Heirophilia, priest kink, guilt tripping, BLASPHEMY, yandere, mind break, blood, needles (Or whatever the hell you want to call the vita saw), abuse of power, handjob

⋆Safe and Sound (Yandere Spy)

yandere, mind break, Stockholm Syndrome, servant/master dynamics, denial/edging, sexual massage, possessive behavior

⋆Look Ma No Hands! (Yandere Scout)

afab reader, dubcon, forced intimacy, oral (female receiving, scout is kinda weird about feet for a moment i guess?, biting, kidnapping, yandere, toxic relationship

⋆Fingertips (Dark Medic) ♡₊˚

Dark!Medic, HARD noncon, forced intimacy/orgasm, AFAB reader/ female gendered terms, misogyny kink, corruption, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive behavior, rough, virgin breaking, medical misogyny (and slight infantilization)

⋆Keep your Friends Close (Soft-yandere Heavy and Medic) ♡₊˚

AFAB reader, smut, three way, oral (female receiving), first time, size difference, slight intoxication, dubcon (nothing too intense, but for the sake of intoxication/slight coercion), heavymedic sandwich.

⋆French Invasion Tactics (Yandere Spy) ♡₊˚

dubcon/coercion, Touch starved reader, yandere, hand kink, manipulation, possessive behavior, outdoor sex (graveyard sex), fingering, heresy/blasphemy, slightly rough, toxic relationship, AFAB reader, bad ending/angst

⋆Birthday Cake (Yandere Engineer) ♡₊˚

MAJOR daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, aphrodisiacs, yandere, toxic relationship, forced intimacy, fingering, possessiveness

⋆Poacher's Pride (Yandere Sniper)

Dub-con, exophilia, mild terato, Dark!Sniper, werewolf, breeding kink, angst-y ending, stalking, yandere, possessive behavior, mates, size difference, forced cuddling/intimacy

⋆Night Light (Yandere Medic)

yandere, possessive behavior, mind break, hurt/comfort, toxic relationship, implied NSFW, kidnapping, touch starved reader, cuddles, reader is gender neutral, implied dehumanization/slight infantilization

⋆Heaven Waits (Yandere Medic) ♡₊˚

Slight spoilers for Emesis Blue, Sad Medic, asphyxiation, sexual massage/hand bathing, gender neutral reader, yandere, oral (male receiving), angst/bad ending, religious themes, death

⋆Puppy Eyes (Yandere Scout) ♡₊˚

dubcon, breeding kink, yandere, tetro (mild), full moon horniness, mating press, AFAB reader, exophilia, fingering, dirty talk, abandonment issues/daddy issues scout, scout drinks reader's sweat? if that's anything?

⋆Hunting Party (Dark Demo and Dark Soldier)

Noncon, death threats, stalking, blades, guns/getting shot, Dark! Characterization, outdoor sex, double penetration, rough, AFAB reader/female terms used, fearplay, primal play, blood, depersonalization, boot licking, bukkake, threeway

⋆The Bunny under the Bridge (Yandere Scout)

Dark! Characterization (nothing too heavy, but still, definitely there), dubcon, light humiliation, coercion, hazing, AFAB reader, bargaining, reader is naïve, oral (male recieving)

⋆Unspoken Alliances *TEASER* (Yandere Spy)

⋆Back stabbers (Classic Heavy)

yandere, AFAB reader/female terms of affection used (good girl/my girl), abuse of power, dubcon, boss x employee dynamic, TOXIC RELATIONSIHP, possessiveness, rough, degradation, toxic masculinity/sexist cheavy big time, technically hurt/comfort but more accurately hurt/hurt the other person, arguing but it's basically foreplay

⋆The Chateau (Dark Vampire Engie and SpY) ♡₊˚

dubcon, Dark! characterization, corruption kink, sexual venom, three-way, hostage situation, coercion, blood drinking, degradation, implied bad ending, AFAB reader/female pronouns and terms used, reader is a masochist, Spy is a massive jerk and bullies Engie and reader

₊˚⊹ Headcanons

Yandere Medic Caretaker Headcanons

Yandere Scout NSFW Alphabet

⋆The Huntress, The Mastermind and The Oni x Altruistic survivor

Deathslinger, Wraith, Doctor x Altruistic survivor

⋆Yandere Spy NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Engineer NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Sniper NSFW Alphabet

Heavy Yandere Alphabet

⋆Medic Yandere Alphabet

Yandere Mercs Love Languages

Yandere Mercs most to least likely to babytrap their s/o

Medic, Spy and Sniper with a captive developing Stockholm Syndrome

The Clown, Shape, Mastermind and Artist with Somnophilia

Yandere Engineer and Medic with a captive who managed to escape

Yandere Scout CNC headcanons

Scout, Demo, Engineer and Soldier getting NSFW call spammed by their s/o

Vampire Heavy, Demo, Medic, Engineer vampire AU headcanons

Scout, Sniper, Spy Vampire AU Headcanons

Yandere Medic NSFW Alphabet

Yandere Heavy being lead on by Reader

Yandere monster mash demo, scout and spy meeting their s/o

yandere mercs with an oblivious love interest

Yandere Medic, Spy and Sniper with a masochist s/o who likes danger

₊˚⊹ Miscellaneous/Drabbles

GREAT WALL OF HUSBANDOS TEIR LIST 2.0 (INTERACTIVE)

GREAT WALL OF WAIFUS TIER LIST 2.0 (INTERACTIVE)

DBH Characters Ranked Best to Worst Huggers

Engie Thirst Post

A Wrench to Grind Mini Drabble

On Writing Medic and Engie

On the "let's make a deal/dark gamble" trope

Yandere Spy Drabble

cnc horny ramble

TF2 Monster Mash AU

Tucking you into bed

Fluffy Sniper Drabble

My Little Sparkle Jump rope queen

Live Blogging Emesis Blue

Ranking the mercs hottest to least

Traveling Priest Engie Drabble (A character which I BLATANTLY stole from my writer's envy and heart's beloved @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered)

Emesis Blue drabble

Administrator Drabble (CURSED)

Birthday Cake Drabble (the fic)

Happy Father's Day Everyone

Fandom PSA

TF2 if they were on survivor

TF2 Star Sign Headcanons

still genuinely curious about this one

emesis blue speculation w/@fatgumsurpremacy-remastered !!!!!!!!

(poll) which of the mercs mothers is most likely to have kept their baby clothes

i need to protect him......

Why some characters are tagged Dark vs Yandere

(poll) if you were a blu captive who from the red team do you wish is gonna torture and hold you as prisoner

Mercs least to most fun to go shoplifting with

(poll) Who is most turned on listening to you whimpering

mercs i wanna smash watching the sunday morning cartoons

CaraTour Assignment

jumpscare

who is the hottest when they're mad (poll)

merc's body appreciation post

Spy thirst

Engie thirst

Classic Heavy Drabble

hits the mercs with a big scary gun that turns them british

TF2 Character food pref.s post

top kinks and a case for the underated kink of "marriage play/playing wedding night"

yandere red spy hiving complicated feelings for the blue scout reader

159 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

P*ssy pops

Summary: He wanted something sweet.

Pairing: Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: adult themed suckers, a/b/o, scenting, mentions of slick, misuse of lollipops :), implied oral (fem rec)

A/N: I rewatched an old episode of Friends. Monica said something to Phoebe about mixing a lollipop and a pregnancy test up...this is how this idea was born...

This story belongs to my Leo & Alpha masterlist. It’s a prequel to the already released parts.

He hates grocery runs.

Ari Levinson is not used to deciding on which pasta to buy. He’s the kind of man who decides if someone will live another day.

Unfortunately, he can’t live off gunpowder and Scotch. The alpha just ran out of groceries, and no one was willing to go on a grocery run for him. At least not his right-hand man.

It’s his own fault. He fired most of his employees, not trusting any one of them any longer. Now he had to leave his mansion and drive to town to buy food.

“Sir, can I help you?” one of the clerks asks. Ari stared at the pasta for too long and the young man fears the tall alpha is a shoplifter.

“Hmm…no…or yes,” Ari clears his throat. “I’m looking for pasta.” He rolls his eyes. “You already knew that.” He concludes as the boy looks at the shelf filled with pasta. “Can you recommend a sort?”

“Oh, that depends on what are you planning to cook.”

His head snaps toward the soft voice offering help. You smile sweetly as the tall alpha eyes you warily. “Pasta…”

“I got that, Sir,” you wink at Ari. “What do you want to cook? It depends on the sauce. Pairing the right pasta with the right sauce is essential.” You step toward the alpha to get a look at the shelf too. “I’ll go for lasagna this time. What do you prefer?”

“I got no plans, miss. I only wanted to buy noodles,” Ari exasperatedly says. He glances at the pasta in his hands, frowning deeply. “Why do they look like butterflies?”

“These are called farfalle. You serve them with classic tomato sauce or pesto,” you point out. “I like them very much.”

“Huh? Are you a cook or something?”

You giggle. “Kinda,” you look up at Ari, eyes a little glassy. “I sell homemade sweets, cupcakes, and cookies at my store across the street. Why don’t you come around if you find the time?”

He watches you grab a package of lasagna sheets. Ari licks his lips as you brush past him, and your scent surrounds the alpha. “Maybe I’ll find the time.”

“I’d like that,” you wink at him. “But be aware, my sweets are for adults only.” You giggle as his eyes widen a little.

“What does that mean?” he asks the clerk. “Hey, I asked you a question, boy,” Ari grumbles.

“You shouldn’t buy her stuff,” the clerk whispers. “She sells odd cookies, cakes, and sweets at her store. I would avoid her shop at all costs.”

“Who do you think you are, boy?” Ari grits his teeth and steps closer to the clerk. “My father? I don’t think so. I’ll have a look at her store if I want to.”

Fifteen minutes later Ari steps inside your store. He inhales deeply as a mixture of your scent, strawberries, and freshly baked cookies fills his nostrils.

“OH! You came,” you clasp your hands together. “Welcome to sweets-treats. My store is for adults only. So, don’t bring your kids here.”

“What? Huh…oh…” he inhales sharply as his eyes land on the Les Tétons de Vénus, cookies in the shape of penises, colorful lollipops, and the adult-themed suckers in the shape of a vagina. “What's all this?”

Ari points at the lollipops, smirking as you get one out of the display. “That’s my bestseller. I call them pussy pops.”

“Pussy pops?” he whispers lowly. “Why do you call it that? It looks like a normal lollipop to me.”

“Well,” you round the counter to hand Ari the lollipop. “Have a taste, Sir. If you can guess the secret ingredient, you can have it for free.”

He inhales sharply. Your scent already has him on the edge. If you push him just a little more, he’ll lose control. “Challenge accepted,” he says and takes the lollipop out of your hands.

Ari thrusts the lollipop into his mouth. He licks over it, humming.

“What do you think? I used vanilla this time.”

He suckles at the lollipop, groaning deeply as the secret ingredient fills his senses. It feels like he can taste, smell, and feel it all at once.

You smirk at the alpha, knowing all too well he can taste the secret ingredient.

“Do you like it, alpha?”

He takes the lollipop out of his mouth. Ari growls lowly as you point at the lollipop in his hands. “It tastes like your pussy.”

“You’ve got a skilled tongue, Sir,” you step toward Ari to run your hand over his chest. “Question is, do you want to taste the original?”

>> Snippet 2

Tags in reblog.

#P*ssy pops #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson x omega!reader #alpha!ari levinson x you #mobster!ari levinson #ari levinson x you #a/b/o

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cannibalcaprine · 6 months

Note

I find it quite amusing that baking is statistically more dangerous than bungee jumping and skydiving combined so me choosing to make silly little cakes and breads is a bigger risk than diving out of a plane

I think it's explicitly BECAUSE skydiving and bungee jumping is so dangerous

they're extreme sports, so there's a million little safety precautions in each one

baking, on the other hand, uses an oven and has shockingly few safety precautions. you're more likely to die in a housefire than a misused parachute and you're more likely to BE in a housefire

all statistics, babyyyyyyyy

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Holy Water {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, vampirism, bad attitudes, snarky comments, toxic workplace, physical assault, fear, anxiety, misuse of holy water, sex pollen, DUB CON, compulsion, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex, church sex, desecrating a holy place, multiple orgasms, vampire sex

Comments: Max Phillips is your new boss and you hate him for being a vampire. Clashing until you quit, you are attacked one night and take refuge in the church nearby. Where Max has a very strange reaction when you splash him with Holy Water.

A/N: We wanted sex pollen so we wrote it!

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Max Phillips MasterList ||

Moodboard by @pedropascalsx

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The silence is loud, almost deafening. The wind barely stirs, there's not even the sounds of animals scurrying in the dark. Not even the sound of breathing can be heard. The air is thick, heavy with something ominous. The scent is metallic, almost coppery and you can taste it. It's the perfect scene for a horror movie right before the terror begins, the moonlight hanging heavy in the unusually dark night sky. The only beacon of light to be had.

The table had been set. Candles lit and the wine poured. His favourite CD was playing quietly in the background as you perfected the final touches for what you assumed would have been a perfect evening.

The dress you wore was a knockout, hugging every curve and the neckline dipping just enough to show off your cleavage. Your hair styled perfectly with your natural makeup giving you an extra glow.

You had taken one last look at the table and giggled. It was covered with little bite size tasters of wedding cakes with multiple flavors and fillings. It was the very last thing you had to do before your big day that upcoming summer, choose the cake. So you secretly had his favorite bakery make you samples of every flavor they offered.

He was running a little late but that wasn’t surprising, rush hour traffic on a Friday is always a little worse than the rest of the week and you’d decided to take those extra minutes to double check that everything was ready.

A loud unexpected knock at the door had signaled the end of life as you knew it.

You always peeped through the little hole to see who was waiting on the other side but you skipped it that time. Too excited and occupied by things you thought were to come.

Two uniformed police officers. Both stood with vacant expressions on their faces. *In that moment you immediately knew.* They didn’t come into the apartment. They apologized and said words that didn’t make sense, they showed you their IDs and asked you to follow them to the local hospital. You went back into your apartment and blew out the candles before slipping on your coat and shoes.

All of you left that day, but not all of you would be coming back later that evening.

****

It’s a common misconception that vampires can’t see their reflection. Maybe at one point they couldn’t because all mirrors were made with a silver backing, but not modern day mirrors. Max checks his teeth, making sure that the intern he had just feasted on wasn’t stuck in them. He hates when he has bits of human in his gums. Causes gingivitis. He licks his lips, winking at the handsome devil in the reflection and then sets out to smooth back the flyaway hairs that had gotten out of place from the struggle the poor bastard had put up. Some don’t like the taste of a scared meal, but for Max, it enhances the flavor of the vitamin B in the bloodstream.

Once his appearance is deemed perfect, he whistles as he strolls out of the bathroom on the twelfth floor and moves towards the break room where everyone has been gathered. He would have preferred it to be in the bullpen, but those are easily changes to be made when he is running things.

You take a seat towards the back of the break room, smoothing out your work dress before crossing your legs. Time to meet the new boss. You feel a little nervous, you had gotten along so well with your last boss and you were so grateful that he arranged for you to have a few weeks off paid after your fiancé was murdered. You can only hope your new boss is as kind and understanding.

“Max Phillips!” As soon as Max hears his name being announced, he walks through the door, grinning an award winning smile and taking in the room. He knows everyone’s names but he doesn’t say anything as he walks over to shake the office manager's hand. “Good to be here.”

Your heart sinks at the sight of him. Cocky, arrogant and clearly about to be a massive pain in your ass… And worst of all? A vampire.

You try to keep level headed about living in a society integrated with vampires, and to be honest you were happy to co-exist with them until that fatal night your beloved was brutally murdered by one.

But things are still raw and the fact that there are specialist bars and clubs popping up for people to be fed from or turned on every corner makes your stomach lurch.

Jake had been murdered by men who had been turned less than 2 weeks before, he was simply bitten and left to his own devices.

No one was made to keep an eye on them or help them deal with their urges and your sweet loving boyfriend of 4 years paid the ultimate price.

Max winks at one of the receptionists, Marlene is her name if he remembers the employee file right, and he does. Another helpful thing about being a vampire is the automatic photographic memory. He can see that she will be easily hypnotized; she might be a tasty snack. To munch on, not have a full course meal. Especially since she seems to be on her period. “What do we sell here?” Max asks, pouting as he looks around the room at all the bored people. They were lifeless, which was ironic considering he was the one who’s heart didn’t beat. He pauses on one face, stony and disapproving. Making him smirk slightly at the challenge the beautiful face contains. “You.” He points at her.

Your breath hitches as he points at you, flashing a disarming smile that you refuse to let affect you. “Vacations,” you say blankly before taking a sip of your cheap coffee.

“No.” Apparently this chick has an attitude, he can dig it. Turning to another employee next to you, he changes his expression. “We sell dreams.” He urges, putting a sense of nostalgia in his voice. “We sell escape from routine, life.” Oh the irony of that makes him want to giggle. “No one wants to talk about their dental plans or their 401k. They want to talk about strolling the streets of Rome and bumping into a lover that swept them away for a magical week.”

You roll your eyes at his impassioned speech. Before swallowing down the final dregs of your lukewarm coffee. “Great.” You murmur under your breath, something telling you that these speeches will become an everyday occurrence.

Most are buoyed by his speech, some aren't. Though the one who has him intrigued the most is the one who looks annoyed. He looks over the crowd again, decisions made on a few of their fates from this interaction alone. "I'll be coming around to meet all of you individually, but for now, happy selling!"

Don’t rush, you think to yourself as you discard your coffee cup in the trash and make your way out of the room. Feeling a pair of eyes lingering on you the entire time.

Max whispers your name to himself, making a note to look in your personnel file again before having his one on one with you. It's obvious that you have some sort of disdain for him and he's wondering if it's from just first impressions or if there is another reason you look like you want to stake him in the heart.

The rest of your morning is spent working on a big job. A family vacation to Walt Disney World - the commission is great and you’re occupied by the many details of the job, but you can’t shake the feeling you’re being watched. You glance up a few times but you don’t see anyone.

Your file thoroughly studied, Max has figured out that it's because he's a vampire. The little notation in your file for the extended leave for 'bereavement' led to the discovery of your fiancé's murder. Down the rabbit hole of his underworld contacts to find out that he had been attacked by vampires and killed. It explains it, and just makes Max decide that he will have to be extra charming towards you.

You hate him. It’s been less than a day but you can’t stand him. The arrogant way he winks across the room at you, the way he insists on calling you sweetheart and lets his hand rest on your shoulder as he listens intently to your work calls.

“Good job.” Max hums as you finish the call and press the break button so he can talk to you. “Only thing I would say is that you could have upsold them on that meal package.” He chuckles and pats his own trim stomach. “People on vacation love to not think about their abs.”

"They made it clear they intended to eat out and explore local businesses," you say back with a scoff, "If I could have, I would have. But they wouldn't have gone for it."

"Sure you could have." Max hums. "You just have to remind them of all their options. The value of it."

"Don't you have something better to be doing with your time?" you snap back at him, before grabbing your coffee cup and making your way to the break room.

Max's brows lift and he smirks at your retreating figure, "This is my job, sweetheart!" He calls after you. Apparently you didn't like the hands on approach. "Dave!" He calls out to the man passing by him. "Let me chat with you.”

You pour yourself a large helping on the crappy instant coffee that's kept in a large supply in the break room. Cursing him under your breath. "Arrogant son of a bitch."

"Who?" Max appears behind you and leans over your shoulder. "Who aren't we liking in the office?" He asks playfully, fully aware you hate him.

You groan out loud before rolling your eyes, "Don't you have someone else you can bother?"

"I'm getting the feeling you don't like me." Max pouts, giving you a chance to deny it, but he knows you won't.

You hum before taking a large sip of your coffee, "Maybe you're not as dumb as you look after all."

Max can tolerate a lot, but his friendly gaze freezes slightly and his eyes lose some of their affable warmth. "You do understand who I am, don't you?" The tone is still perfectly professional, but there is a warning threaded through it. "I'm your boss, so maybe try not to insult me to my face?"

"Is that a threat, Mr. Phillips?" You ask before attempting to push past him.

Max's jaw rocks slightly. "This is a workplace." He reminds you. "You would do well to remember that." Instead of staying and continuing to argue with you, he tilts his head, "Perhaps a week off without pay will remind you?" He asks.

"Make it two." You challenge with a raised eyebrow.

"Done." Max snaps his fingers and slaps his hands together. "Gather your things, you're punched out as of now." His tone is final, firm. He frowns in disappointment, hoping that you would have been a bit more flexible. On paper you were a fantastic employee, top of his list. Now it seems that he might have to rethink things.

"Fuck," you mouth to yourself as you grab your things from your desk. Two weeks without pay is going to be hell on earth but there was something inside you that just needed to wipe that smugness off of his face. You glance over towards his office and see him standing in the doorway watching as you pack up some of your things.

He knows there are very few employees here that can afford to take two weeks without pay and he wonders if you will come and apologize. That's all that is necessary for you to stay. Although he feels like you wouldn't, too stubborn for your own good. Max shifts and calls your name. "When you are ready, step into my office to sign some papers please."

You pull the strap of your handbag over your shoulder and tuck your jacket under your arm before making your way to his office. Attempting to ignore the glares from everyone else in the room. You tap his door quietly and wait to be invited in.

"Come in." The irony of inviting someone into his office isn't lost on Max and he looks up when the door is pushed open.

"Would you feel more comfortable with the door open or closed?" He asks.

"I don't mind," you say with a shrug, unsure how this is about to go. "Whatever suits you.”

"Close the door." Max decides, setting his pen down and motioning for you to take a seat. "No need for everyone to try to walk by to hear."

You simply nod in agreement and slowly close the door behind you. Taking small tentative steps towards the chair, he's gesturing for you to sit on. "What do I need to sign?"

"Nothing." Max tosses you a smirk. "I lied but thought it was better that I say that than publicly airing your issue with me."

"I don't have an issue with you," you say with a non committal shrug, feeling the obvious lie lingering in the air.

Max doesn't believe you, but he shrugs and leans back in his chair. "If you say so." He lets you off. "Whatever your feelings, as long as you can do your job and not incite rebellion in the office, we are fine." He lifts a brow. "Unless you like being difficult?"

"Incite a rebellion?" You say with a scoff, "Ah, so when a woman doesn't swoon and fall at your feet, we're rebels? How medieval of you.”

Max's easy expression drops away and he stares at you for a long moment. "I don't give a fuck what you think of me." He states flatly. "But you won't be unprofessional and think you won't be corrected." He waits for another beat. "Now.... Do you want to start again, or do you want to have two weeks without pay?"

You can't help but smirk at the way his face falls, clearly not used to having someone challenge or not fall over their own feet to impress him. "Start again. But this time, you don't speak to me and I don't speak to you. I will continue being the best salesperson here and you can invest your valuable time in those interested in sucking up to you."

Max tilts his head, watching you. "I am your boss." He murmurs. "I can just fire you for cause and move on to someone with less...issues." He pauses. "But I know you're down an income already."

"Excuse me?" You ask, the smirk plastered across your face being instantly replaced with fury. "You have no right... don't you dare."

"Awww, did I hit a nerve?" Max asks, springing out of his chair and farting around the desk before you can blink an eye. "You insult me to my face, knowing what I am, what I can do and expect me to be nice?"

"Fuck you." You spit back, forgetting about all the years you've given to this company and getting ready to walk out, "Is that a threat, Mr. Phillips?"

"No." Max settles back and leans against his desk. "It's not. But you have an attitude problem." He observes. "I didn't kill your fiancé."

"No, but someone you most likely had a hand in turning did." Your hands shake with anger as he casually brings up Jake, "I don't have an attitude problem. I have an issue with the fact you can commit any type of crime you see fit and we have to suffer the consequences whilst you clearly get away with murder."

"I just moved to town sweetheart." Max hums. "Sorry, wasn't me. But blame me if it makes you feel better." He waves his hand dismissively. "Get back to work." You hate him and he's not going to change that, but he's not going to fire you right now.

"Arrogant son of a bitch," you murmur as you get out of your chair and make your way towards the door, "You don't talk to me again. You have an issue with me or my performance. You go through HR." You slam the door behind you and waltz back to your desk, throwing your bag back underneath it and shaking your head.

“Shit.” Max sighs and walks around to your file and flips it open. He had decided to change you, you had been an excellent candidate to change but now….. Max circles your picture with his finger. He doesn’t want to destroy you, but you might just push him to have to do just that. It’s a shame, you’re a sexy woman and he can smell how good you would taste.

You glance over at the picture of you and Jake on your desk, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you're reminded of happier times. It's at this moment you decide that you'll work tirelessly to avoid any interaction with Max possible.

****

It's been a week since the incident in his office. You've avoided him as much as possible, slinking out of the coffee room without as much of a word when he waltzes in, keeping your head down at your desk and refusing to make any eye contact with him when he enters the room.

The only place he has you cornered is the meeting room. Every morning he calls everyone in for one of his signature pep talks and he makes a deal of calling on you every time and attempting to trip you up. Making snide comments or attempting to call you out on something to see if you'll snap, but you refuse. Instead you plaster on a sickly sweet smile and keep yourself as level headed as possible, enjoying the flash of fury that he can't quite keep at bay every time he fails in his attempts to humiliate you.

Max narrows his eyes on the sales report, your numbers are starting to slide and he smirks viciously. Your file is still one that he hasn't dealt with yet, although the changes are starting to happen around the office. He's already turned a few of your co-workers. He picks up his phone and dials your desk.

You sigh out loud when you see his name flash up on your desk phone. "Yes?" you ask into the phone, your annoyance crystal clear.

"Would you come to my office please? We need to discuss your sales figures." Max asks stiffly and then hangs up so you don't even have a chance to deny him.

You take a deep breath and make your way to his office, knocking once before letting yourself in and taking a seat. "How can I help you today, Mr Phillips?"

Max shifts in his seat, straightening up and adjusting his tie. "Please sit, we need to discuss your numbers.

You lower yourself into the seat and shrug your shoulders, "Okay, what do you need to discuss?"

"Your sales have been slipping." Max offers you the report. "Drastically." He leans back and watches as you thumb through the pages.

"Drastically?" you say back with a laugh, "I'm outselling everyone in the office."

"Actually…. Max pulls out the other report and hands it to you. "You're not."

"You?" You yell across the desk at him, "How the hell is someone who's supposedly senior management outselling the sales staff? Clearly you've falsified these documents."

Max smirks at your outrage and purses his lips. "You think I'm lying? How cute." He chuckles quietly. "You can check the system. All verified sales."

"Is your ego really that fragile, Max?" you say with an exaggerated pout, "Little man couldn't handle a woman in first place and had to take on extra duties to change that?"

"Taking on extra sales so the fucking department didn't get shit canned." Max growls. "I don't think you understand what management wants, sweetheart." He flashes a cold grin. "They wanted me to eat half the department the day I arrived."

"Oh is that what it is? You were protecting the department you're claiming you got hired to eat?" You say with a scoff. "Well congratulations, I hope you enjoy rubbing your already overinflated ego tonight as means of celebration. I have work to do."

Max calls your name sternly as you stand and turn to walk towards the door. "Get your numbers up." He cautions you. "Or you won't like the atmosphere come Monday."

"You don't frighten me, Max. I don't need to remind you that your kind has already taken everything that matters from me." You walk out the door, purposely leaving it wide open just so he has to get up and you hold back tears as you make a beeline towards the break room.

Max stands up and instead of closing the door, he marches after you. Tired of your treatment of him in front of the entire sales department.

You pour yourself a large cup of water and take a deep breath, determined not to let him see how much he's gotten under your skin today.

Striding into the room, Max clears his throat. "I'm going to have to write you up for insubordination." He announces, rocking his jaw as he gets more and more angry at the way you have been combative from the start. He didn't kill your fiancé and he's tired of being your whipping boy.

"Whatever makes you feel big, little man," you say before taking a large sip of water.

Max waits a beat to see if you will realize what you've said but you just stare at him. "You're fired." Max spits, fangs springing down from his gums as he glares at you.

"No, I quit." You say as the tears you'd been holding back start to stream down your face. "You can go and fuck yourself, Max Phillips.” You storm past him and grab your coat and bag from your desk and immediately make your way towards the exit. Needing to get out and away from him as quickly as you can.

"Bye sweetheart." Max calls, leaning against the break room door. "Try to have a better attitude with your next boss."

****

It had been five days since you're firing/quitting and you'd managed to convince your brother in law to hire you as temporary bar staff in his dive bar just to keep you afloat until you found something better suited for you. With the cleaning staff long gone and the rest of the bar staff likely tucked up in bed, you finished restocking the beer fridge and replacing the bar towels before calling it a night. It was just past 2am and the streets seemed bare. You set the alarm and hastily locked the side door before making your way towards your car.

Max hums, checking his watch as patting the hip of the human that he had fed from earlier. "I've got to go, babe." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money to tuck in between her tits playfully, "go home and drink some OJ. Gotta replenish that blood for tomorrow." He waggles his brows and winks. She pouts but within minutes Max is stumbling out of the bar un-ironically named Fangs into the cool morning air. The alleyway is dark, but his hearing is better than most and he moves towards the street a few blocks over where he parked his car.

You shiver in the cold as you pick up your pace a little, trying to push down the feeling that you're being watched.

Max hears something. A snickering that is nothing but trouble and he can hear the whispers. "Look at her. Easy target." Vampires. "That's the one - the woman of the other one we drained." That gets his attention, because how many woman's partners were drained in this town? Speeding up, he spots you in the distance, unaware of the danger around you.

You start to rifle through your bag, digging out your keys to feed them through your fingers, just to relieve a little panic rising in your chest. You glance around and don't see anyone, but you can't feel the feeling that you're being watched.

The attack comes suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, but Max sees the two fly in from the darkness. Hissing a curse, he darts down the alleyway far faster than a mortal could run, intent on stopping this sport.

Your cry as you are pushed up against the side of your car pisses Max off. He's close enough to see that it is you. Head yanked back and throat exposed. Making him growl in furious rage, the sound like an angry beast and making the two vampires pause before one sinks his teeth into your jugular. Giving him just enough time to reach you and body slam the two of them and throw them away from you.

Your legs threaten to fail as you attempt to catch your breath, you're not sure whether you find the strength but you push yourself upright and run into the building in front of you. Running past the lines of pews and heading to the confessional to hide.

Once their prey is out of sight, the two vampires focus on Max, snarling and flashing their fangs in a show of anger but they don't attack. Obviously believing that Max has some claim on the human he had protected.

You slide the confessional curtain closed behind you and drop to the floor, your hands shaking with fear as you try to regain some composure.

Only when the two slink off into the shadows where they belong does Max relax, looking around and seeing the door to the church pushed open. Groaning to himself and rolling his eyes, he stares up at the cross over the threshold and grins as he crosses it. "Sweetheart?" He calls out, the low lights are soft and he starts looking through the pews for one very scared human. "Come out."

The sound of his footsteps make you shake even harder, you wrap your arms around your legs and bring them closer to your chest in an attempt to make yourself smaller. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to suppress any sounds that might slip through.

"Where are you?" He demands, freezing so he can listen for the sound of you breathing. "It's safe, come on out, sweetheart."

You refuse to move a muscle, remaining as still and quiet as you possibly can. Knowing that this is all just a trick and the moment he finds you, he's going to kill you.

Your refusal to answer him and it makes him roll his eyes. Of course you would be difficult even when he saves your life. Instead of calling you again, he smirks and picks up a heavy hymnal and drops it on the ground.

The loud bang causes a loud gasp to slip through your lips and immediately gives away your location. You curse yourself as you start to raise up off the ground getting ready to run.

Max chuckles quietly at the sound coming from the confession and opens the dark, heavy curtain. "Hey, sweetheart. You talking to God in there?" He asks. "You could always just talk to me. I'm better."

"Please just leave," you start to beg, your voice almost unrecognizable to yourself as he starts in front of you, "I quit. I don't understand why you're still trying to hurt me."

“Trying to hurt you?” Realization dawns and with it comes the biggest pout. You think he attacked you. Instead of being a decent human being (well, sort of), you think he is playing some sick game. “I scared off the vampires who were going to turn you into human jerky.”

"I'm supposed to believe that? Even after all the threats and passive aggressive comments from you?" You say as a shiver runs through you.

"I've never threatened you." His pout turns into a frown. "Talking to you about the realities of the workforce isn't threatening. Besides like you said- you quit." He shrugs and jerks his head. "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

You figure that pissing him off by refusing or pushing past him isn't your best bet here, so you shrug and take a few small steps forward.

Max steps back, giving you a wide berth and holding his hand out like he is showing you the world. He can still hear your heart galloping in your chest so figures you are still nervous. "See? Everyone's friends here."

You nod your head slightly, still unsure on how to gauge this. But you take a few more steps, picking up the pace a little to increase the distance.

You are anxious to get away from him, he can sense it. His own pace quickens to keep up with you, not wanting you to go outside without him there. Just in case.

The sound of his footsteps speeding up behind you makes your panic levels rise through the roof. You look around for something to protect you with but the only thing that's near you in the font that houses the holy water. You increase your pace once nice more and duck around it.

"Are we playing tag?" He calls out, trying to piss you off enough to make you calm down. "Are you it, or am I?"

"This isn't funny." you stutter as you move further from him. Your fingertips gripping onto the font. "I won't ever bother you again. I'll leave town. Just don't hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart." Max coos, trying to adopt a less playful tone, wanting to soothe your wary emotions. "Come out, I'll get you home safe." He sees you peer around the damn vessel of holy water and holds his hand out. He doesn't want to compel you, but he will.

"No." You say as sternly as possible. "Just leave."

"You want to get eaten?" Max hisses. "Fine." He's trying to help you and you just keep fighting him.

"You say that like you're not going to kill me the first opportunity you get." you snarl, "I know what this stuff does to your kind." You say as you gesture to the water.

Max glances at the water and then back at you, laughing. "Oh sweetheart." He rolls his eyes and spreads his arms wide. "I supposedly shouldn't even be able to walk into this building." He reminds you. "The "church"-" he uses air quotes around the word, "hasn't been Holy since the 1800s."

You shake your head at his words, "No." You watch him take slow steps towards you and without thinking you reach down into bowl and splash a bunch of the holy water in his distraction before scrambling backwards.

"Fuck!" Max is more pissed off about the fact that his wool jacket got wet than you splashing him with holy water. He hates the smell of wet wool but the damn thing is warm, making him feel moderately human for a moment. You dart around the vessel and Max leaps in front of you, grabbing you by both arms. "That wasn't nice!" He hisses, blinking the water out of his eyes.

"You trying to kill me outside this Church wasn't nice," you scream at him as his grip on your arms tightens

"Fucking hell, I was trying to save you." Max's nostrils flare and the bloom of your scent fills them like ambrosia, making him moan and duck his head to bury it against your neck.

"What are you doing?" you gasp as he drags his lips against your neck.

"I- you smell so fucking good." Max groans, holding you tighter and inhaling the gorgeous scent of your blood rushing through your veins. It goes straight to his cock, hardening against your hip as he kisses and licks at your pulse like he is starving. "Even when you're hating me, you always smell good. Skin tastes so sweet." He moans between laps at your skin.

"Max," you whimper unable to hide from how good it feels, "Are you going t-" You cut yourself off with your own gasp as you feel his rock hard cock press up against you.

"Fuck." Max's head is swimming with lust and feels like his skin is on fire from the inside. Not in the melting, about to die, kind of way that you imagined when you flung Holy water in his face. Instead, it's this need to tear your clothes off and bury his cock into your warm, wet body until you are screaming and cumming around him. "Say it again," he begs. "Say my name just like that again." He pulls your purse off your shoulder and tosses it down, sliding a hand down and gripping your ass to rock you against his hard body.

"Max," you whimper again, unsure how you're suddenly under his spell. The feeling of his body pressing against yours making your pussy drip with arousal. "What are you doing to me?"

He knows he's projecting, compelling you to want him, but he can't stop. "I- fuck, I need to touch you." Max rushes out, sounding breathless even though he technically needs no air in his lungs. "Want to taste every inch of your skin."

Every part of your brain is telling you to push him away, to run as fast as you can but the way he's touching you is like nothing you've ever experienced before. "You hate me," you choke out as he roughly squeezes one of your breasts.

"No I don't." Max groans, loving the heat you are radiating and he wants to curl around it and soak it up. His hand slides under your shirt and he covers your bra with his hand. "Fuck. Fuck I need to be inside you." You're in a church, but he doesn't give a fuck. He would be tugging at your clothes right in front of the Father and do it happily.

His other hand slides around to cup your cunt through your jeans. "You want to stake me through the heart, but I want to make you cum."

"This is a trick," you stammer out, putting up zero resistance to all of his advances. "You're just trying to push down my defenses."

"This feel like a trick?" He rolls his hips forward and pushes his hard cock into your hip even more. "Fuck." He lets go of your breast and reaches up to strip your jacket off your body. Starting to lose control and he doesn't want to rip your clothes if he can help it.

"Fuck," you push him away, shaking your head, "Why are you doing this? You despise me. You can't deny it."

"I can't stop." Max understands you hate him, although he doesn't know why you keep insisting it's him that hates you. He pulls away to push your shirt up and over your head, revealing your pretty bra and groaning. "Fuck, fuck, look at you." He groans, ducking his head down and kissing along your bra, licking your skin.

"You can't stop?" you ask with a raised eyebrow, hating the way you moan as he kisses your skin. "Max," you whimper again as he strong arms you down onto a pew.

"Yes, yes 'Max'" He moans, "Max is going to make you feel so good, baby. I promise you. It'll be so good, soooo good." He nudges your bra down enough with his nose so that he can pop your nipple into his mouth, his fingers working on your jeans. Eager to lay you out bare and quiche this fire in his veins.

You're not sure how or why this is happening. You both despise each other but the way his mouth feels on your skin is electric and instead of moving from him, it's like you're magnetized. "Taste me." You whisper.

Max groans, pulling away so he can pull your clothes off of you. Not caring where the jeans and panties you were wearing land as he throws them behind him. Knees hitting the floors as if in prayer but if he is praying, it's to the cunt he buries his face in.

"MAAAAXXX," you scream as he starts to lap at your folds, eating you like a man starved. Like a man who needs to do this to survive.

Fingers dig into your thighs, breaking capillaries and the smell of fresh blood makes him moan. His tongue flicks over your clit rapidly. He's faster, stronger than a mere human, of course he could eat pussy faster too.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you croak out as he pulls you closer and closer to your high.

Max disagrees wholeheartedly and grumbles against your clit to voice that. Pulling you closer to the edge of the pew and letting go of one of your thighs so he can pull his aching cock out of his pants.

Your mind is clouded with pleasure and all of the thoughts of pushing off you melt away as you start to come undone

Your cunt gets sweeter the closer you are to cumming. Making him growl and double down on how ravenously he licks through your folds. Eager to make your thighs shake and your world spin around on his tongue as he strokes himself.

Your hands find purpose in his hair, pulling it tightly as you rock against his face. "Gonna cum," you say with a groan as everything goes black. White hot pleasure tearing throughout your body as he continues his delicious assault as you start to convulse in pleasure, your thighs squeezing around his head.

You taste better than blood, making him groan as your thighs press around him. If he were human, you'd be suffocating him. His tongue curls up inside you, wanting every drop of your release as his appetizer, earned from the strokes of your clit.

You moan his name as he laps up every drop. The haze after your orgasm slowly begins to clear as his tongue hits something seismic inside of you. You gently push his head away before concentrating on steadying your heaving chest. "Fuck."

Now is the time to pull away with a clear head but there's nothing but lust rushing through Max's veins. The roar of need consumes him and his hands shaking as he rips at his own clothes.

"Fuck me, Max," you mewl, shocking yourself for letting those words fall from your lips.

He knows the way his compulsion is projecting onto you. This lust is nothing more than a mirage. Still, all he can do is nod, finally pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring free. Nearly on his knees from the pain of needing to bury his cock inside you.

"Fuck." you mouth at the sight of it. Thick, the tip an angry shade of red as it begs for release. You clamp down around nothing as he gives it a few languid strokes before lining it up to your entrance.

It's automatic. Not something he can help. His fangs spring down from his gums when he pushes into your velvet hot cunt. Gripping him like a glove as he snarls inhumanly at the sensation and the pure relief of being inside you.

"Oh Max," you moan as he splits you open. It has been a while since you've had sex, and the feeling is almost overwhelming as your walls hug his thick cock.

Your moan makes him lose control. There's nothing slow or tender about the pace that he sets. Nothing forgiving about the way his hips slap forward to feed you his cock again. Lost to everything but the way your wails pitch up and the feeling of pleasure when you squeeze him.

His pace is relentless. Every slam of his hips making you desperately gasp for air, you grip the side of the pew with one hand and roughly squeeze your breast with the other. You're not sure if it's the haze he has you under or the pure pleasure but the words 'bite me' are lingering on the tip of your tongue.

The creaking and groaning of the pew is filling the large, acoustical space. The splintering of wood increases as the drive if his hips ramps up. Baring his teeth as he looks down at you, watching your eyes roll back and flutter. Not tiring even though a human would have already collapsed in exhaustion, Max keeps fucking you like his existence hinges on being inside you.

It's indescribable the way each thrust of his cock feels, it's like everything else in the world have ceased to exist as he fucks into you. "Don't stop," you choke out as he digs his fingernails into your hips.

It's just the permission he needs. Managing to speed up as the slapping of skin echoes throughout the church. Groaning out your name as he pushes you up the pew until you're pinned against the edge.

"I'm gonna c-" You scream, cutting yourself off as you clamp down hard around his cock. Squeezing him so tightly that you feel his pace momentarily stutter.

The force that he had to use to keep moving inside you finally cracks the base of the pew. Pulling it out of the bracket to secure it to the floor and the entire bench lurches forward. Still, he doesn't stop rocking into you, greedy to see you cum again even though you are still cumming around his cock.

You whimper beneath him as he fucks you harder and harder throughout your orgasm. Every ounce of hatred you'd ever felt for him melting as he plucks pleasure from you with nothing but ease. Each slam of his hips finding that pleasure center inside of you like it's all he's ever known.

"Fuck, fuck, of course you would be perfect." Max groans, closing his eyes as he continues to ram into you. "Fu-fuck hate me and it's the best fucking pussy l've ever had." He groans and gives into the need to kiss and lick your skin again. He knows you might struggle since his fangs are out, but he won't bite you. Not unless you wanted him to and there's not a chance in hell of that happening. "Fucking perfect."

"Bet y-you say that to all the g-girls -oh god yes - you fuck," you say with a little smirk. You're still unaware how quickly he pulled you under his spell but you're beyond caring, all you want is to feel him buried deep inside your needy pussy forever. "Cum for me, Max."

He shakes his head, not wanting to cum just yet. "Again." He begs, ducking down and kissing your pulse, letting his fangs brush your skin. "Not until you cum again.”

"I can't," you whimper from beneath him, unsure you have the energy to come apart around his cock again.

"Yes you can." Max groans, feeling your cunt flutter around him. He pulls back and lifts your legs up onto his shoulders. "I know you can, you can give me one more."

"One more," you agree meekly, as he resumes his relentless pace. His hips slapping against you with all his might, "Oh, fuck, Max," you groan as his two of his fingers find their way to your clit and start to circle it.

"That's it baby, fuck." Max hisses, loving how your body is responding to him. The heat licking through his veins is nearly tolerable as he steadily rocks his hips at a frantic speed. "Want you to feel good. So sweet for me like this."

"Feels amazing." You softly breath out as you reach down and grab his free hand. Entwining your fingers with his as you feel yourself start to lose control again.

This time when you come apart, Max is leaning in, groaning praises to you as he watches. "Good girl, fuck, so good for me." He moans. "Soaking my cock so good, fuck you feel how wet you get?"

"So fucking wet." you murmur in response, "Just for you.” His name is all you can manage to say again as the earth shatters around you as your third orgasm is ripped from you.

A growl rumbles out of Max's chest, eyes nearly yellow as his face starts to change. Brow knitting together and turning heavy. Cheek bones growing sharper, jaw wider. Turning into a visage of the monster that he is as you clench down on his cock.

"Bite me," you beg as you feel his cock throb inside of you. "Please, Max, please.”

He wants to, his mouth is watering at the idea of biting you and tasting your sweet blood. But as needy as his body is for yours, he can't. You were compelled to let him fuck you, whatever causing it making you lose your inhibitions. Never allowing him to come near you, let alone biting you. Instead of sinking his fangs into your skin, he digs his nails in and scrapes his fangs over the area lightly, never enough to break skin.

Your pussy aches as you clamp down around him, the feeling of his teeth against your skin somehow intensifying your orgasm as you scream his name. "Please, Max," you beg, unsure what you're really begging for. "Cum for me."

Max shouts your name, his voice rough and several octaves lower from the change he's gone through. Thrusting harshly twice more before he is grinding into you, pumping you full of his useless spend with agonizing slowness. Feeling the frantic need ebbing with every pulse of his cock.

You pass out from exhaustion the second he's finished painting your walls. Delirious from the best fucking you've had in your life, you mumble a small thank you before falling into a deep slumber.

Luckily, whatever madness had come over him was extinguished with his orgasm. Reaching out and caressing your face as you are completely unaware of anything around you. He grins, knowing he's not going to be able to keep from teasing you about this when you wake up. Max pulls out of you with a soft groan, standing up and quickly collecting the clothing so he can dress both you and himself. Since you can't take care of yourself, he'll take care of you himself.

****

You wake up abruptly in an unknown bedroom to muffled yelling in the next room. Sitting up straight you immediately feel the aching sensation in your core, your pussy throbbing from the hard fucking your taken a few hours before as the hazy memories start to flood back to you.

"I don't give a fuck if your busy." Max shouts, believing that you are still passed out. "They are obviously the ones who attacked her fiancé and I don't trust them to not come after her. I want them found and staked!"

You slowly climb out of the unfamiliar bed and make your way towards the door. Noticing that you've been dressed in one of his shirts as you do so. You creep towards the door and slowly open it.

"YES, I meant it when I said destroy them." Max growls into the phone. "They don't deserve to fucking spend another day on the earth. They attacked her. They die." He pulls the phone away from his ear and tosses it down on the counter and sighs dramatically. He had thought to take you back to your home, but then had worried that the two who had attacked you would trace you back to your place. The myth of needing permission to come in was bullshit and so he had carted you back to his place, wanting to keep you safe even though you still believed that he had attacked you.

You clear your throat as you walk towards him, "What happened last night?"

Max's head snaps towards the hallway leading to his bedroom and he finds you staring at him. "Do you want the long version or the short version?" He asks, turning towards the refrigerator that normally holds the blood bags he gets from the clinic. He had some groceries delivered while you were still out. Pulling a bottle of orange juice out and grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

"Short," you say with a shrug, slightly wincing as you lower yourself onto one of the kitchen stools.

Max can't help but smirk as you gingerly sit down. "Two vamps attacked you on your way to your car, I chased them off, you thought I was the one who tried to drink from you so you splashed Holy water in my face and I fucked you until you passed out in God's holy temple."

"Oh," is the only thing you can bring yourself to say as your fingertips tap against the glass he hands you, "Thank you for chasing them off."

Max pauses as he stretches out his hand to offer you the orange juice but he nods and sets it down in front of you. "You're welcome." He says simply. Unsure of what you are going to say now or accuse him of.

"I uh, I remember asking you to taste me," you say barely a register above a whisper, "And then the uh... the sex, but I don't remember anything about that."

"You passed out." Max puffs up with pride. "Came too much." He brags slightly. "I redressed you and carried you out to my car."

You scoff at his cockiness and roll your eyes. "Yeah sure,” you mock. "Definitely had nothing to do with the fact I was exhausted after almost being attacked AND working a 12 hour shift at a shitty bar."

"Small details." Of course you would never give him any kind of credit and he turns back towards the fridge. "Are you hungry? Since you were exhausted and attacked and worked 12 hours at a shitty bar?" He asks, looking over his shoulder.

"Kind of." You admit "But I can get going. I'm pretty sure you'd prefer not to have someone you hate in your bachelor pad."

"Stay." Max orders lightly, but there is no compulsion in his voice this time. "The vamps, the ones that attacked you, I don't - uh, they are being hunted down." He pulls out the food that had been brought and frowns. "After that, you can leave and never see me again

Taking the prepackaged sandwich from his hand you nod your head slightly, unsure what to say. "Thank you," you say with a brief smile, "For the sandwich. The shirt. And for saving my life. Just thanks."

"It's okay, sweetheart." He promises you. " I know that you aren't comfortable around me, so I'll go shower and work in my home office. You're safe here." He knocks on the counter and walks away, needing to get away from you. The urge to touch you again is too strong and he knows you wouldn't want that.

"Oh, okay," you say, unable to disguise your disappointment at him getting away at his first opportunity. "'ll go back to bed for a bit, I guess." You take another bite of the sandwich before disposing of the packaging and making your way back towards the bedroom.

Max sighs as he strips off his clothes and steps into the shower. He wants to think that you were disappointed but he knows you are probably jumping for joy to be away from him. The compulsion to fuck because of an adverse reaction to holy water didn't mean you liked him. "Just forget about it, Phillips."

Boredom gets the better of you after a few minutes. You climb back out of bed after hearing the shower switch on. Taking this as an opportunity to look around his apartment, when curiosity becomes too much to ignore.

Max leans into the hot water, enjoying the warmth on his skin, closing his eyes as he remembers how fucking perfect you felt around him. "Shit." He hisses, knowing that you are still in the kitchen so he doesn't hesitate to wrap his hand around his cock and tug to make himself hard. Wanting to jerk off and take the edge off this need he has.”

You spend a few minutes examining his bookcase and humming in approval at his taste in literature. Some muffled sounds come from the bathroom and you take a few quiet steps and hover outside the door to see what's going on in there. And then you hear it, barely above a whisper, a grunt of your name as it becomes apparent what he's doing in there. Your clit immediately roars to life with need as your thighs clench together.

"Fuck." Max hisses, the image of you under him swirling behind his lids. "Perfect, so fucking perfect." He squeezes his cock like your cunt had, wishing that he was sinking into you rather than fucking his fist in the shower. Rocking onto the balls of his feet as he strokes his cock furiously.

Unable to pull yourself away, you stand and listen before it gets too much. You hastily unbutton his shirt and roll down your panties before reaching for the doorknob, relief that he hadn't locked it sweeping throughout you. Silently you enter the bathroom slipping unnoticed in the shower behind him. Your hand wraps around his waist and the other pulls his hand away from his throbbing cock, and you replace it with your own. Matching the same aggressive speed he was stroking himself with a few seconds before.

Max's stomach muscles coil when you touch him. So lost in the memory of last night that he hadn't even heard you come in. "Fuck." He pants out, hips jerking forward into your grip. "What- fuck, what are you doing?" He grunts, half believing that he is imagining you here.

"You want me to stop?" You ask as you tighten your grip around his cock.

"No, fuck no." He groans, leaning his head against the tile. "You - you hate me." He reminds you. "Why do you want to jerk me off?"

"Maybe I just want to edge you," you tease as you bite down onto his shoulder, "Maybe I want to feel you deep inside me again."

"You're sore." His eyes flutter closed and he jerks his hips forward. "I- you'll hurt."

"I guess you'll just have to be a little less rough this time."

"I- I have a bench." Max pants, smirking slightly. "You could ride me.”

"Mhmmm," you hum as you think about how much bigger he'd feel from that angle. "Take a seat then, Mr Phillips

It's strange how quickly you've gone from hating him to wanting him. Still, he doesn't argue, moving over to the bench and sitting down to spread his legs wide and let his hard cock rest against his stomach. "Come have a seat sweetheart."

You don't know why you're craving him so badly, maybe it's because he still saved your sorry ass after everything, you don't know. You rest your hands on his shoulders as you straddle him, watching as he lines his cock up ready for you to sink down on him. He was right. You're sore but you push past it and get ready to feel the pleasure you know he's capable of giving.

His fingers dig into your hips, trying to keep you from going too fast. Wanting to spare you as much pain as possible "Take it easy baby." He groans. "Not too fast, I'll fuck you like you need."

"Do it then," you demand with a cheeky grin splashed across your face. "Fuck me, Max Phillips."

Max captures your chin in his hand and turns your head towards him. "Kiss me first." He challenges you. "I'll fuck you after you kiss me." Ironic since his cock is buried inside you, but he could live right here and be perfectly fine.

You raise your eyebrow in confusion at him, wondering if he's playing a game right now. And after a few moments of looking directly into those big brown eyes you give in. Your hands come up to grip either side of his head before you press your lips to his. Licking his bottom lip to gain entry before pushing your tongue inside and tasting his mouth.

Max groans, his own tongue sweeping along yours, kissing you for the first time. Sliding his hands up your back and holding you firmly as he lets you explore him, plundering your mouth in return, twitching inside you.

"Max," you moan against his lips, "Please fuck me," you beg before kissing him again and rocking your hips. Grinding slowly on him.

He starts to move, lifting and lowering you on his cock as he continues to kiss you. Keeping it slow so you can not ache as badly right away.

Slowly you start to take control, riding him at a delicious pace, his cock brushing against that spot inside of you. Opening your eyes you see him staring intently at your face, a slight cocky grin on his face as you smash your lips up against his.

Groaning, he tightens his hold on you, leaning forward and bracing his feet on the shower floor while you bounce on his cock. Flicking his tongue inside your mouth as your tits press against him and your walls clench. "Still so good." He pants. "Tight little pussy."

You keen at his praise, loving the way you've somehow gotten under his skin as well. "You like fucking this tight little pussy, Max?" You ask as innocently as you can.

"Fuck." Max leans in and nips the skin on your collar bone. "Love it. Fucking obsessed with it. Took it so well last night."

"Why didn't you bite me?" You ask as his teeth scrape against your soft skin. "Last night... when I asked?"

Max pulls back, his eyes focused on you in a very serious moment. He knows he's a dick, that he comes across as careless, but the majority of that is a facade. "I- I was... projecting my compulsion last night." He admits. “I couldn't stop it. Whatever reaction to that holy water was, it was making you want to fuck me, and I needed to be inside you. But..." he grips your hips harder and relaxes his hold on you to caress the skin. "Biting you was something I thought you would never want. And I - I didn't want you to hate me more than you already did."

"Oh," you say, resuming the soft rocking of your hips, "I uh-I don't hate you. It's just tough for me... I know you don't understand."

"I wasn't always a vampire." Max reminds you, his human days still not too far away that he doesn't remember them. "And maybe you can move on when the vampires who killed your fiancé are destroyed."

"Mhmm," you reply before pressing your lips to his, kissing him long and hard, before playfully teasing him, "Thought you were going to make me cum, Mr Phillips?"

The serious moment has passed it seems and Max groans. Starting to move faster now that you are opened up and not wincing when you are filled with him.

You see the disappointment in his eyes when you change the subject, but something tells you that having a serious conversation when he's buried deep inside your needy pussy isn't the smartest of ideas.

You bounce up and down on his length, the angle making you cry out in pleasure with every slam of hips against you. You feel your walls start to flutter against him and know that you're seconds away from falling off the edge.

"God you're so desperate for it." Max chuckles, deciding if you want him to fuck you, that's what you're going to get. He lets one hand slide out and slap your tit before his thumb presses against your clit. "If I had know that, I would have just kept fucking you while you were passed out. Kept you speared on my cock all night."

"Should have," you choke out with a sob, "Fuck.. Could have woken me up with your fat cock this morning."

Max twitches inside you, enjoying the small gasp and the way your nails dig into his skin. He thrusts up to bounce you harder on him. "I'll remember that." He groans.

"I bet you will," you say with a giggle as you start to grind down harder on him, desperate to fall off that edge and come undone on his cock.

Now all he can hear is the water of the shower and the desperate little sounds you make in the back of your throat. Urging him on and making him rock his hips up faster. "You gonna cum again?" He demands, not growling but his voice is deeper.

"Yes." Every thrust of his cock is harder than the one before, slamming against paradise as his deft fingers continue to play with your bundle of nerves. "Feel... Feel so good, Max," you murmur over and over until you're unable to speak. The only sounds slipping from your tongue are broken moans and sobs as you're thrown spectacularly into another earth shattering orgasm.

Max could keep going, maybe he should since you seem to be the softest towards him when he's buried in your cunt, but he doesn't want to hurt you. Aware that humans have limits to what their bodies can take, Max tightens his hold on your trembling body as he quickens his thrusts to chase his own orgasm.

"Fill me up," you plead as he starts to throb inside of you, "Want you to drip out of me for the rest of the day."

Max hisses, baring his teeth, though his fangs aren't showing. Thrusts steadily getting sloppier until he is crushing you to him, cock planted as deep as he can go as he spills inside you.

"God," you moan with a giggle, "So the secret to shutting Max Phillips up is pussy. Good to know."

Max smirks and winks. "I can multitask if needed." He leans back against the shower wall and relaxes, enjoying the way you shift forward with him.

You let your head forward and nestle your face against his neck, giving yourself a few minutes to catch your breath, before a loud ringing makes him shoot upright. Pushing you off of him before he climbs out of the shower.

Max walks through his apartment, completely unconcerned with the water dripping off of him as he speeds towards his phone. "Yeah." He demands as he answers it.

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of the towels from the rack, standing awkwardly behind him as he takes the call.

"Both of them?" Max frowns into the phone before he grins. "Good. Thanks. Now make sure that the legal report is completed by Monday."

"Who was that?" You ask sheepishly from behind him.

"Arnold. From legal." Max smirks happily as he drops the phone back down on the counter and looks at you, "if you're going to have vampires destroyed, have the lawyers do it. They are used to getting messy."

"So, they're dead? The vampires who killed my Jake are gone?" You ask, needing to hear it again.

"Dead." Max confirms with a nod. "I heard them talk about him right before they attacked you."

"Dead," you repeat quietly. Unsure why it doesn't feel as good as you'd imagined it would feel. Maybe it's because it would never bring him back to you. "I should go then, I'll get out of your hair."

Max opens his mouth to protest but then he shuts it, knowing that you don't need a vampire around you to process. "Sure, sweetheart." He nods, shuttering his expression. "I went back and got your car, so it's here. Your clothes are in the dryer."

"Thanks," you say, “I uh, I appreciate that you saved me last night and I'm sorry for assuming the worst in you." You give him a small smile before making your way towards the dryer and collecting your things. Dressing as quickly as you can and sneaking out of his apartment without another word.

Max hears the click of the door and closes his eyes. Not understanding why you hating him has him pouting like he's lost a toy. Of course you don't want anything to do with him. He had only been able to touch you because he had compelled you. "Move on, Phillips. Don't let it bother you." Still, for a long time after you have gone, he wonders why he can't stop thinking about how you looked when you smiled at him.

The drive back to your apartment is quick, no mid morning traffic to keep you wallowing in the confused feelings clouding up your mind. The second you're inside you lock the door behind you and run yourself a hot bath, being a little too generous with the epsom salts in the process and stripping yourself down. The ache he left in your core is throbbing and you take two Advil to settle the soreness before climbing into the bath. Your mind drifts back to the previous night in the church and how your body was so receptive to everything he did to you. And despite the fact you know he was projecting his needs onto you, you can't help but think about how you still could have refused him but didn't. And on top of that you followed him into the shower earlier, desperate to feel him in your hands as you pumped his rock hard cock and felt yourself dripping from touching him alone.

Has he gotten under your skin? No. You shake the thought away. There is no way that you like Max Phillips. Absolutely not.

****

He almost calls you, or stops by your apartment. He knows where you live, but he doesn't. You hadn't said a word to him when you left and it spoke volumes of how you wanted to proceed. Instead, Max shuffles through applications for the sales position you had vacated, not finding anyone he wanted to hire to take your place.

It's been three days since you saw Max and you hadn't been able to bring yourself to complete another bar shift. Instead you wake up early and dress yourself as nicely but professionally as you can and make your way back to your old work building. Taking a few moments outside before gathering the strength to go inside and ask for another chance. With your head held high you walk towards your ex-bosses office and knock the door a few times and wait to be invited in.

"Yeah-" Max looks up from the report he had been reading and freezes when he sees you standing in the doorway. "What-" he stands quickly and motions you inside, frowning in confusion when he sees the smart professional outfit you are wearing. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping I could apply for my old job," you say with a sigh. "I just can't afford to live without it."

Max eyebrow ticks up in surprise and he holds his hand out for you to sit in the chair opposite him. "I take it that you would rather not?" He asks, oddly hurt by how resigned you sound.

"I would like my job back," you say with a bit more enthusiasm, "It's just not easy having to ask, ya know?"

Max knows that swallowing your pride is difficult and he can't seem to tease you like he might have before. "Are you going to be able to work for me?" He asks.

"Are you going to tell everyone about what happened?" You ask, feeling your cheeks burn.

"No." Max shakes his head. He hadn't said a word about what had actually happened that night. It was a memory he wanted to keep for himself.

"I just don't want people accusing me of sleeping with to get my job back," you say quietly. "I don't want you to think that either."

Max snorts and sends you an ironic grin. "You and I both know that if it hadn't been for that night, you would have never let me touch you." He spreads his hands out over the resumes that have been lackluster. "I haven't hired anyone for the position."

You laugh at his admission, "You say that as though you would have touched me if I didn't throw holy water at you. And good... So, can I have my job back?"

He's frustrated that you still believe that he has some grudge against you. Leaning back and shaking his head. "Not until you tell me why you think I hate you." He demands. "What reason? What did I do that said that?"

"You hovered over me your entire first day? You made it clear you didn't think I was capable of my job, Max." You sigh. "Look if you'd rather I didn't get my job back that's fine, I haven't quit at the bar yet."

"Oh. Seriously?" Max leans back and shakes his head. "I hovered because you consistently had good numbers. I wanted to see what you were doing differently from the other morons." He rolls his eyes and shrugs. "Then when I saw you didn't like me, I pushed your buttons. I'm an asshole like that. But I never thought you weren't capable of doing your job."

"It was raw." You pull at your sleeve and look down at your lap. "Jake's death wasn't taken seriously, it was just treated like something that was inevitable because we live in a community with vampires. It was hard for me, and you didn't have any issues hiding what you were, not that I think you should. And I'm sorry."

Max shakes his head, aware that he's had some relaxed attitudes about his kind, but he understands where you are coming from. "I'm sorry they didn't treat your fiance's death like it mattered." He hums quietly. "Now, go down to IT, get your logins sorted and i'll deal with HR. I've been sitting on your paperwork anyway." He shrugs causally. "You actually just were on unpaid leave, but since you're back, we can change it to paid."

"Thank you, Mr Phillips. I really appreciate this." It doesn't take long for IT to get you up and running again and you're happy to see that your desk hadn't been cleared out and was still set up how you like it. The rest of the morning is spent taking calls and booking a few big trips.

He makes sure that he doesn't venture too close to you, wanting to make sure you settle in and get back into the routine without him 'hovering'. He has a few performance reviews, changes Phil in accounting and has a snack off the temp secretary, Brenda. Typing up an excerpt in a file when the 5PM alarm sounds and everyone starts to clock out and go home for the night.

The rush around you makes you laugh as you decide to stay and rifle through the emails you'd missed over the last week just to get all caught up. Once everyone's gone and the room has cleared you pick up your coffee cup and make your way to the break room to grab a cup of coffee.

There aren't many nights when Max isn't the only one in the office, the vamps are going out to have fun and the humans are all just ready to go home. He hears someone in the break room and gets up to go investigate.

You hum along to the radio still playing quietly overhead, the cleaners will switched it off later this evening but it's nice to have it on whilst you're all alone. You sway your hips whilst filling up your mug and enjoy having your pick of the cookies without someone trying to grab the best ones.

Max smirks, leaning in the doorway and watching you for a moment. "Happy to be back, huh?"

"Oh shit," you say with a jump, spilling half your coffee over your blouse, "Fuck, I'm so sorry! I thought I was alone.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm enjoying the show." He tells you with a smirk, imagining you naked dancing.

"Mhmm," you say as you blot the burning hot coffee on your now very see-through blouse. You giggle before throwing the cloth at him, "Glad I can entertain you."

Max huffs and snatched the rag. "You didn't burn yourself did you? Don't want a workman's comp claim." He winks at you because he's teasing.

"I'm about to go call my lawyer this minute," you tease back, "Going to take you for everything you have."

"Well damn." He snaps his fingers and pouts. "Don't know what I will do. Maybe I can kiss it and make it better?"

You know you shouldn't be doing this here, but you can't deny the dynamic between you both has changed. And you've been craving him every second since you left his apartment a few days earlier. "That could work." You take a few steps towards him and bite down on your lip. "But wouldn't you rather I do the other thing? Seeing as the other night you kept telling me how good I am at taking it all."

Immediately, Max's cock starts to harden, his teasing grin becoming a bit more lusty. "You want to step into my office, sweetheart? Work overtime?"

"Kiss me first," you order, copying his request from a few days earlier.

Smirking, Max grabs your arms and pulls you down into a low dip that makes you gasp. Tilting you down like the romantic movies of old, his kiss is anything but. His tongue promises nothing but pleasure as he licks through your mouth and pulls you upright again. "Step into my office, right now sweetheart." He growls.

"Fuck," you mouth as he starts to walk towards his office, you follow closely behind on shaky legs. "Am I really about to let you rail me in your office?"

"Yes you are." Max smugly turns in the doorway and motions for you to enter in front of him. "Because you know how good it feels and you want more."

"I remember it being... just okay," you tease, unable to stop yourself from riling him up a little. "Come on then, Phillips. I do not need the cleaners to see this."

Max snorts and closes the door behind him, clicking the lock although he knows the cleaning crew won't just walk into his office. "Happy now? All alone."

Without saying a word you walk around his desk and take a seat on his chair, starting to unbutton your ruined blouse and dropping it on the floor before removing your pants.

He watches, admiring the view and the change of attitude towards him. The last time you had been in this office besides today, you had been angry and argumentative but now..... He smirks. "Get on my desk and spread your legs for me baby."

"Yes, Sir," you say with a smile, still wearing your underwear.

You stand up and take a seat on his desk directly in front of his chair and spread your legs as commanded.

He rolls his eyes and huffs as he shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and moves towards you. "Still such a brat." He grins. "Wanna throw holy water at me again?"

"Do you need it, old man?" You say as you start to unbutton his shirt. "Is that the vampire version of a little blue pill?"

His grin drops into a pout and he blows a raspberry at you. "I don't need a little blue pill. Ever."

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Phillips." You say with a roll of your eyes. "I'd like to get out of here tonight."

"So a quickie?" Max nods and unzips his pants. "That can happen. Even more than you realize." He chuckles. "Turn over. I'm gonna fuck you from behind."

You roll your eyes at the thought of him fucking someone else in here and slowly turn around, "Fuck me then."

"Ohhhh, someone's not happy." He coos, reaching out and slapping your ass. "Why is that, baby?"

"You're taking too long." You lie before rubbing up against him. "It's been days. I need to feel you again."

"Impatient." Max smirks and pulls out his cock to pump it a few times before he shuffles closer and kicks your feet apart so he slides his cock through your folds. "You feel so goddamn good." He hisses at your wetness.

The noise that you make as hell drags his cock through your folds is drenched in sin. You don't want him to stop teasing you but you can't take another second of him not being buried inside of you. "Please, Max."

Instead of easing inside you this time, he decides to notch himself as your dripping entrance and snaps his hips forward and buries his cock deep in one, rough thrust.

The wind is knocked out of you as he fills your tight little cunt. Your walls immediately gripping onto his fat cock as you attempt to catch your breath before he starts to move.

"Feel better sweetheart?" Max coos in your ear, enjoying the way you can barely cry out and he kisses behind your ear before he starts moving at a harsh pace.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you simply nod. Gripping harshly onto the wooden desk as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Fucking you hard and fast without a care in the world.

"Yeah, you feel better." He answers his own question as he snaps his hips forward again and again. Rattling the pen cup on his desk and making it shake. "Should- should just make you sit on my cock all day at work."

You hate how you react to that immediately clamping down around the length of him and gasping at the thought of it. "Fuck," you barely croak out as you start to move your hips.

"That's it baby." Max's body crowds you, wraps around you as he fills you again and again. "Let me know how it feels."

"So good," you murmur into the desk. "You feel so fucking good. Too good."

"Never too good." He kisses along your neck and presses his tongue to your pulse. "Never too good, baby. You feel so fucking perfect around my cock. You like it? Getting fucked by a vampire?"

"Nope, I just think I like you fucking me." you say as he hits something glorious inside of you, "Fuck, just there Max," you plead.

Max hums, approving of your answer and concentrating on replicating the angle that makes your toes curl and your cunt clench.

"Make me cum," you start to beg as his thrusts continue to knock the wind out of you, "Let me soak that fat cock."

"Fuck you know how to talk to me." Max groans, sliding his hands up to pinch your nipples while he fucks you into the desk.

You gasp at his harsh treatment of your nipples but he can feel the way it makes you clamp down around him, "Fucking love that big fat cock."

Max chuckles. "So what you are saying is that when you start getting mouthy, I should just shove my cock in it?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'll just sit on your face every time you start to be an annoying asshole."

"Now that's just going to make me be more of an asshole." Max teases, leaning in and biting your shoulder, without the fangs.

"Yeah?" You moan as his teeth graze your neck, "Is that what you need, baby? Need me to sit this tight little pussy on that handsome face of yours?" The position he has you in makes it difficult for you to move, his body boxing yours against his big desk. All you can do is clamp your walls down around him.

"Fuck yes." Max groans. "Especially when you're on your period."

"Fuck." The men you'd been with before refused to touch you during your period, and the idea of him using his mouth on you whilst your bleeding almost sends you over the cliff at that moment.

"Yeah ..you like that." Max huffs in your ear. "You can sit that little bleeding cunt on my mouth all day. I'll just lick you clean until you can't take another orgasm."

"Oh fuck." Your thighs start to shake as he pushes you close to the edge, the way his cock hammers into your g-spot paired with the filth he whispers into your ears is too much. You let go with a breathy moan of his name and everything goes black. Pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cumming around him is something that Max wants to experience every day. You get so tight and wet. Making him snarl out your name as the wet slaps of his cock drilling into you ramp up so he can cum.

You lay against his desk, unable to move as you come down slowly. Waiting to feel him fill you up, the sound of sick slapping against skin bounces off the walls as you lay there in your blissed out haze.

It takes another dozen thrust before Max is cumming, scraping the desk across the carpeted floor as he buries his cock deep, groaning happily as he fills you again. "Thank god my seed is dead." He jokes. "Because I would have definitely just got you pregnant."

You giggle before pushing yourself up a little, his softening cock still buried deep inside of you as you look over your shoulder. "That was incredible. Fuck. How am I supposed to sit a few feet away from your office and fight the urge to come in and ride you everyday?"

"Don't." Max smirks. "Or come over every night to ride it."

"You'd get sick of the sight of me, or start fucking other people as well." He slowly pulls himself out of you and you stand upright on slightly shaky legs before turning around to face him, "And I don't share."

Max snorts and lifts a brow. "Who says I share?" He asks. "If you want it to be causal, that's fine. If you want more...." He tucks himself away and zips up. "Let me know."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow at him as you reach for your panties. "Didn't peg you as the kind of guy that's interested in more?"

Max rolls his eyes and grabs your arm, dragging you close. Your squeal of surprise is masked by his mouth covering yours less than a second later in a needy kiss.

He kisses you for ages, pressing himself against you as his mouth dominates yours in a messy battle. A week ago you wouldn't have dreamed about kissing him but you feel a stab of sadness in your chest at the thought of never kissing him again. You slowly break free of the kiss and rest your forehead against his, "I want more."

"Good." He murmurs softly. "I want more too."

"Good." You finish getting yourself dressed as he tidies up the mess you've made on his desk. "So where do we go from here?"

Max flashes you a grin. "That's up to you, sweetheart. But let's get take out, I'm starving." He chuckles. "How does Chinese sound?"

"As long as you're paying," you say before reaching out for him to take your hand. "Let's go."

****

"What do you want, baby? Hmmmm?" Max kisses as licks along your neck while you grind your hips down on him. One year later, you are still wanting to be with him, which surprises and delights Max. His own need and connection to you grew to the point where he had asked you to give up your apartment since you were always over at his anyway. Living together, or rather, cohabitating since he technically wasn't alive.

"You know what I want, asshole," you say with a groan. He's still a massive tease after a year and loves nothing more than making you beg. "I love you, Max Phillips, I want to spend an eternity with you. Bite me."

"Hmmm, I swear if my heart was still beating it would flutter." He muses, actually really touched by you wanting to become a vampire when you had hated all creatures of the night when he first met you. His nose bumps your pulse. "Are you sure baby?" He pulls back and looks into your eyes seriously. "There's no changing your mind if I do it."

"Yeah? Would I have THE Max Phillips swooning?" You say with a slight poke of his shoulder. "Yes. I am sure. You promised you'd help me and make sure I don't hurt anyone and I trust that you'll do that... Plus I've grown accustomed to that annoyingly handsome face of yours."

"I am handsome, aren't I?" Max preens and grins at you smugly, laughing when you roll your eyes at him. "I love you, baby." He promises, just as serious as he had been when he cautioned you.

"Eh, you're okay." You giggle. "I love you, Max." You press your lips against his and give him a reassuring nod that this is what you want.

"Okay." Max presses his lips to yours one last time as a human. "Close your eyes, baby." He tilts your head to the side and licks your pulse one last time, letting his fangs spring down from his gums. "Let me show you a whole new world." Opening his mouth wide, Max sinks his fangs into your jugular and moans, finally getting to do what he wanted to nearly a year ago when you had flung holy water in his face. Make you his for eternity.

#pedro pascal #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips imagine #max phillips bloodsucking bastards

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enqmind · 3 months

Text

Fic!

This is what happens when you've recently read baby trapping fics and then have a conversation about what foods you can't eat around taking certain medications.

Soap/Female Reader WC: 1.4k 18+ content.

Warnings: Baby trapping, manipulation, tampering with contraceptives, tampering with food, technically poisoning, misuse of a dietary supplement. Noncon, despite containing no actual sex (because baby trapping).

Reader notes: Implied to dislike marmite, probably isn't Scottish, dislikes masks (not a covid denier. they just make her uncomfortable).

Gothmet

Johnny has been cooking a lot lately.

“Trying to take after your compatriot?”

He’d laughed at that.

“I think you’ll find I don’t hit my Boiling Point quite so fast, love.”

You suspected he’d last five minutes in food service, since you’re not actually allowed to explode the sous chef.

But as a home cook? Oh, he was passable.

His latest creation was squid ink ravioli filled with an avant garde bacon and nigella seed concoction.

It was interesting, but good was a different question.

“Do you like it?” He asked, puppy dog enthusiasm radiating off of him in waves.

“… I don’t know,” you confessed. “It’s certainly interesting, but I’m not sure one way or the other.”

You half expected his face to fall, but instead he looked thoughtful as he took a considered bite.

“Aye, I see what you mean. This’ll take some workshopping. You willing to be my taste tester?”

You grinned at him over your wine.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“And that is my top priority, after all.”

He didn’t seem discouraged by the half hearted kick under the table, especially if his enthusiasm for ‘dessert’ was considered.

His new culinary interest expanded to baking.

The next day he presented you with a zebra cake with the highest contrast you’d ever seen. The chocolate stripes were almost jet black.

“I got some o’ that ultra Dutch processed cocoa to try making my own oreos. Ordered one of them special biscuit cutters too, but it hasn’t arrived yet. So I decided to make a very accurate zebra cake.”

“You ordered one for bourbons too, right?”

“What do you take me for, hen? Some kind of godless heathen?”

You raised your hands placatingly.

“Just making sure, Johnno. Gotta check to see if you’ve been replaced by a sexy doppelganger every now and then.”

He squinted at you.

“Yeah, well. You’ll get your bourbons. With bourbon cream, mind.”

“Always trying to ply me with something, aren’t you?”

He looked scandalised when you laughed.

Within the week he had those biscuits ready for you. True to his word the bourbons had bourbon cream and the orefauxs (as he called them) had Baileys cream. Both were as black as the devil’s bottom.

“I might need a new wardrobe soon if you keep this up,” you joked between mouthfuls.

“Ah, I’ll just help you work it off. Or just buy you a new one.”

The look you gave him might not have been as withering as you’d hoped, but he seemed to get the message.

“I’ll try to bake you something healthier next time.”

Something healthier meant a coal black loaf of bread.

“It’s a black bread,” he said cheerily, “it’s got rye in it. Thought might as well go the whole hog and added some activated charcoal to make it as black as you like your coffee.”

It was with a heavy sigh that you turned your eyes to him.

“I can’t eat this.”

His face did fall this time.

“Oh. You allergic to rye? Or are you afraid I’ve slipped some marmite in?”

“My marmite take is neither here nor there. The problem is that I’m on the pill and activated charcoal can make it not work.”

“Oh, shit.”

He looked so crestfallen that you felt even worse.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s my fault. Shoulda considered that.”

You tore off a chunk and slathered it with butter, just to see him light up a little.

“Well, I guess half a loaf over a couple days can’t hurt too much.”

His grin was blinding.

“Ah, but what am I gonna do with all this spare activated charcoal? I cannae eat it all meself.”

You gave him a grin of your own.

“Could live up to your callsign and use it to make soap. Good for the skin and all that.”

“Ah,” he said sagely. “So that’s why they kept showing me that melt and pour stuff. I was starting to think I’d have to assassinate Bezos for knowing too much. How’d he even find out?”

You chuckle as you eat your chunk of bread.

“It’s really good,” you mumbled, delight rendering you mannerless.

Johnny puffed up with pride.

“I’ll try a different colourant next time. Still got that squid ink, after all.”

“How is recipe development, by the way?”

“Can’t complain. I’ll have another plate for you in a couple o’ days.”

“I look forward to it!”

In the meantime you were working your way through the biscuits, cake and that half a loaf.

The second round of ravioli was divine. Exactly what was different was a question, but if Johnny was going to continue to be a magician in the kitchen then he was allowed a few secrets.

He joked that this was the way to your heart, and he wasn’t far wrong. There was something about a handsome and rugged man cooking for you that was so very seductive. So less ‘way to your heart’ and ‘way into your knickers’.

His culinary adventures continued with a squid ink version of the bread (still delicious, barely tasted different) and so much chocolatey goodness.

Despite previously thinking such things impossible, you liked chocolate as much as the next woman, it was getting more than a bit much.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take a break on the old chocolate,” he reassured you over some jjajangmyeon. “I’ve got a few more ideas up my sleeve.”

He bought you a pie.

It was rectangular, but certainly a pie.

“I thought you said you made buns?”

“I did hen, a bun at least. This is a black bun, it’s traditional around Hogmanay.”

When he cut it open you could see why it was called that.

The filling was dark as a moonless night and chock full of dried fruit.

Granted, you were a bit leery, but you gave it a shot and were pleasantly surprised.

“This is good. Remind me to come ‘round yours for New Year’s.”

“It’ll be an invitation, not a reminder, lass.”

You grinned, even with currents stuck in your teeth.

The next thing he bought you was fudge.

You were more dubious about this one than the pie.

“Why is it black?”

“It’s liquorice flavoured. Me mam asked me to make some, thought I’d let you try it too.”

Maybe you could deal with the dried fruit, but the liquorice was a bit much. All sorts were one thing, but this flavour and this texture? It was weird and gritty and didn’t go. No thank you.

“Well, you win some you lose some,” he grinned, “they can’t all be winners.”

The liquorice might not have been, but the black sesame seed mochi certainly was.

“It’s good in a porridge too, they use rice starch to thicken it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Porridge without oats? Do your countrymen know you’re speaking such blasphemy?”

“Aye, aye. Fair point. You keep this schtumm and I'll work on some fusion cuisine so they don’t burn me in Parliament square.”

It took a few days, but the proper black sesame seed porridge was welcome. You’d been feeling a little under the weather lately.

“So what do we call this? Scorean? Kortish?”

“Please stop.”

“You’re no fun.”

Johnny pouted.

“Oh right. Before I forget; what happened to that soap making? Or am I just not getting any?” It was your turn to pout.

“Ah, I decided to go cold process. So it’ll be ready when I get back from deployment.”

You nodded.

“Do you want me to bring some down when I come pick you up so we can throw it at Simon? ‘Cause he’s gonna need it with that fucking mask he’s always wearing.”

Johnny’s eyebrow’s rose.

“I still don’t get why you hate it so much.”

“I swear he’s making faces at me under that thing.”

“Really?” He asked dubiously.

“I just don’t like it. He gives me a weird vibe.”

Johnny looked affronted.

“Hey-“

“Because of the mask. Hated it during the pandemic, too. I’d last three minutes in Japan in the winter.”

“I’ll take you in the summer then,” he smiled softly, placated.

You rolled your eyes affectionately.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

As ever, it was with a heavy heart that you saw him off the next day.

He did leave you with some treats to tide you over. Another black bun, some biscuits (chocolate was back on the menu) and a box of lovely dark parkin. Altogether, it should last most of the time he was away.

It didn’t.

You stress ate most of it when you found out you were pregnant.

#tw: dark fic #tw: baby trapping #tw: food tampering #cod fic #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #dead dove do not eat

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toxinellebug · 4 months

Text

Shadybug’s Taste of Revenge- A Menu of Miraculous Misuse

What was that old saying about revenge and a cold dish?

That sounded too much like a single serving.

After YEARS of torture, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was planning on serving Chloe Bourgeois an entire buffet!

Thanks to The Supreme’s generous gift, she was finally able to put the meal plan in motion.

That evil, selfish, racist brat would FINALLY get what’s coming to her, and Marinette would savor every moment…

After receiving her Miraculous, kwami servant, and a tablet listing rules she needed to follow,

(See this post here) Marinette had spent the days of her weekend compiling a list of everything Chloe had ever done, and how she wanted to pay her back.

She spent the nights testing her transformation and the abilities that came with it:

Standing still, she didn’t really feel any different. But as she moved, she noticed her body felt lighter, took far less effort for motion, and required little stamina.

Having a room with roof access made sneaking out easy. Still, she had to really hype herself up to make that first jump.

But it was worth it!

Parkour was as simple as a video-game; as if the suit could somehow sense what she wanted to do- leaping from roof to roof was a piece of cake, there wasn’t even any strain on her muscles. It was insane how fast she could run without feeling out of breath. Plus, for the first time in her life, instead of being a klutz who could trip over air, she was nimble and sure-footed as anyone in Les championnats de France Elite de gymnastique!

The Yo-yo had been trickier to get the hang of; she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed- The Supreme, most powerful force on earth, gives her magic earring that grant her super-human strength and agility… and a yo-yo? Based on its use, a grappling hook would’ve made more sense.

Maybe The Supreme had a weird aesthetic?

Whatever.

The Lucky Charm feature was far more interesting…

The first time she summoned it, it granted her a small, red and black polka-dotted, hand-held device with a green screen showing a grid map of Paris, and dozens of blinking dots that seemed to move around the arrondissements in a pattern.

After zooming in to look at specific streets it clicked in… This was radar. It was showing her the real-time Enforcer patrol routes!

Being caught outside of your residence after curfew was a serious violation for all citizens.

Enforcers diligently policed the city-keeping an eye out for deviants, vandals, and other would-be criminals who would dare leave their homes after dark.

In the list of rules The Supreme had sent her, it was made clear that she was NOT to be seen.

Rooftop travel would make it easy to avoid most of them, but if she wanted to scope out the layout and security features of both the school and the Grand Paris Hotel, it would be better to do so after Enforcers had already passed those areas, and leave before they came back.

The Hotel had pretty tight security, and not knowing to limits of her Lucky Charm, she decided the School was the best option to start, at least until she was more proficient with her powers.

———————

That 2nd week of school is dedicated to research and spying, and by Thursday, Marinette has a better grasp of Chloe’s schedule than her underling, Sabrina.

(C’mon, if Marinette in the Prime universe can have a pull down chart in her room with the schedule of the boy she likes- a boy who has a bodyguard and an overprotective father- then emoMarinette could easily figure out the schedules of people she hates.)

Friday morning she is up before dawn; she needs to get to school before it opens to put her plan in motion, then back home again in time to “wake-up” as Marinette to avoid raising suspicions.

(She does not have a super-villain name yet, since she believes no one will see her or talk to her, why would she need to give her transformed look a name?)

Transforming and swinging from rooftop to rooftop with her yo-yo means she can get to the school in less than 3 minutes.

Just in time; Custodian M. Haprèle has just arrived and is making his rounds to get Francois Dupont ready before the rest of the faculty arrives.

Avoiding a single man is easier than trying to sneak past several teachers and students.

She waits until he exits the door leading to the boiler room, his first task of the day- she knows that now he will go to unlock each room, turn on the lights and radiators, before he does a sweep of the main courtyard.

Being a private school, those tasks won’t take long, so she knows she must move quickly.

Even though M. Haprèle is unlikely to return to the boiler room until his routine inspection at the end of the day, she can’t risk being noticed leaving the room if he happens to be passing by.

The stairs lead to an eerie hallway that is thankfully lit, but only just so.

Her heart races when she spots the aqua glow of her prize; the school boiler.

Responsible for heating not only water, but regulating the temperature of every classroom.

It was like a big pressure-cooker, and she would use it to prepare the apéritifs of her revenge.

Pulling up her yo-yo and activating the smartphone feature (which was odd because who would she even call??) she did a quick internet image search for comparison in order to identify the expansion tank and the pressure valve.

Summoning her Lucky Charm gave her a red and black polka-dotted pipe-wrench.

Normal Marinette was weak, but with the strength her transformation gave her, she was able to turn the filling loop all the way on, and shut the pressure release valve off, and twist it impossibly tight.

She couldn’t help her self-satisfactory smirk; she’d just turned the school’s heating system into a ticking time bomb.

Step one was complete. Now to go home so Marinette could get ready for a very exciting day of school.

——————————-

It is in the middle of second class when it happens…

The classroom radiator whistles and hisses violently, releasing scalding hot steam into the room that fogs Mme. Mendeleiev’s glasses.

Shrieks can be heard from nearby classrooms, but they are soon drowned out by what could be mistaken as a crash of thunder.

Directeur Damocles activates the intercom system and orders to evacuate all students immediately!

Despite teachers insisting that everyone remain calm and to leave in an orderly fashion, there is panic; sobbing over steam burns, anxious questions over what’s happening, students shoving to get through the door first, either out of fear or excitement to get out of class, and over all the din there is a distinct banshee wail of a certain blonde threatening to have her daddy sue the school over what the burst of steam has done to her hair!

…No one notices Marinette slipping away to the locker room.

Confident she is alone, she transforms.

She knows she has to act quickly, so she starts with the easiest target; Sabrina Raincomprix’ locker.

C’est du gâteau! Sabrina is completely brainwashed into being Chloe’s slave, so naturally her locker combination is that witch’s birthdate.

(A day EVERYONE knows by heart since every year Chloe makes a big spectacle of bragging how amazing her party will be since she is so rich.

Naturally, anyone foolish enough to ask if they could be invited was laughed at and insulted for having such audacity.)

Chloe Bourgeois had never done her own homework in her life. That’s what underlings were for…

In Sabrina’s locker sat an entire weeks worth of homework for both her and Chloe, including a science report they needed to present to Mme. Mendeleiev- the most unforgiving teacher in school- and it was all due TODAY.

There was no time for Sabrina to re-do all of it for herself, let alone a separate, slightly different set for Chloe.

Not only would the teachers be upset over so much missing work, but even an airhead like Mme. Bustier would have to be a little suspicious that both girls claim to have lost all their homework.

How many times had Marinette’s grades suffered because those two stole her notes, vandalized her locker and its contents, or dropped her textbook into a toilet?

How many times did the teachers blame her for not paying attention in class, forgetting to do her work, or just being a total klutz because anytime she tried to tell them who was really at fault, it was always her word against Chloe and Sabrina’s?

How many times did everyone decide that Marinette’s word meant nothing?

There was no time to count.

Marinette had one more fish she wanted to frire for this course; Lê Chiến Kim.

Summoning her Lucky Charm this time got her a red and black polka-dotted stethoscope.

It had to be magic. That was the only way she could explain being able to use it to crack the combination on Kim’s locker even quicker than what Marinette had seen in movies.

The school swim team had a meet after school today, and Kim was prepared with all his gear in his locker, including his goggles which just so happened to have his name printed on the waterproof label on the strap.

The only thing Kim loved more than swimming was practical jokes.

Let’s see who will have the last laugh~

———————————

Directeur Damocles is NOT happy.

He’d had to call in both the Enforcers AND the Fire Department, and the school budget was going to suffer a major cut in order to pay for it.

(Remember, under The Supreme there is no socialism, so receiving any kind of service from the Fire Department or law enforcement will cost you, as mentioned here.)

The Boiler had over-pressurized and exploded.

Not only would it have to be replaced, but there was sure to be a lawsuit or two from the angry parents of students who had been unfortunate enough to be seated close to their classroom’s radiator.

Thankfully, any burns were superficial at worst, and after some quick first aid, Captain Hessenpy had assured them that a simple store bought ointment would be enough and redness would fade in a couple days.

Though that assurance would probably do little to appease the ire of some parents.

The drawbacks of being principal of a private school were undoubtedly all related to the students’ parents.

Everyone enrolled came from a family that was well off, and a good deal even had family’s with a degree of influence.

Even worse, nearly every student’s parents believed their child deserved only the very best, which is why they enrolled in Collège Françoise Dupont in the first place.

As such, an incident as large as this was unacceptable.

People would demand answers and for someone to be held responsible… Which could lead to the school being shut down!

Never mind losing his job, at this rate, Denis Damoclés would never find work in the field of education again!!

What if he was arrested for gross negligence? What if the debt for property damage and personal lawsuits was so overwhelming he had to spend the rest of his life in a penitentiary labor camp to work it off?!

No, this wasn’t his fault…

Fred Haprèle; HE was Gardien d'école!

It was HIS job to inspect the boiler before and after school.

If anyone should be held accountable for this disaster, it was him.

M. Damocles interrogates M. Haprèle without mercy; He checked the Boiler room this morning and everything was fine? HA! A likely story! As if he’d believe-

But he is interrupted by Enforcer Raincomprix;

After some investigation, a suspicious item was discovered at the scene of the explosion.

A pair of swimming goggles.

——————

What a beautiful day.

The kind of day that left you feeling nostalgic;

Marinette remembers that day last year all too clearly…

She had mustered all the courage she could wring out of her tiny body to ask Kim out.

She steeled herself for rejection.

She wouldn’t blame him- she was the biggest loser in school.

She expected him to say “hard pass”.

She hoped he would turn her down gently.

She thought he’d think it was a joke.

She never dreamed he’d say “yes”.

But he did, and she was on cloud nine!

On the bus she couldn’t help but imagine all the dates they would go on once the school year was over.

In her head, she was already designing the gift she would make for Kim’s next Birthday, and the gift she would make him for Valentine’s day, for Christmas, for his next next Birthday…

Not that she didn’t still have some jitters- there was always the chance that Kim would change his mind and she would be stood up. Or maybe he never intended to show up in the first place but had felt too awkward and put on the spot to say “no” to her face??

But all that anxiety melted away when she arrived at the pool and Kim was waiting for her with a smile.

They’d had so much fun! The most fun she’d had in a long time.

They played pool games, and Kim showed off his dives and made her laugh.

Marinette felt so comfortable with him.

He was so nice… In fact, he was the only one who’d ever been nice to her.

It seemed so perfect, she’d been so happy that she couldn’t help herself-

She let the words slip out;

“Je t'aime.”

Those words came back to bite her in the form of dozens of spiders, crawling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, even down inside her swimsuit, and they were actually biting her!!

She screamed and flailed about, hopping like some kind of panicked chicken, swatting madly at her limbs and torso while Kim laughed hysterically, before she fell backwards into the pool.

Even as she sputtered and swallowed a mouthful of chlorinated pool water, she still instinctively clawed at her own body, still feeling dozens of tiny, itchy, little legs crawling all over her.

When she finally came up for air, Kim was still laughing, and he wasn’t alone- Chloe and Sabrina were there, snickering and recording the whole thing.

All Marinette could do was crawl out of the pool like a wounded animal and scurry away to the changing rooms to pray the earth would split open and swallow her up.

It didn’t.

Chloe posted the video online, and by the time Marinette managed to get home, it had already gone viral.

The last two weeks of school were filled with new nasty names and insults, there was even a contest where boys tried to see who could do the best impersonation of her freak-out.

Someone took the original video and made a remix, complete with clownish sound effects.

She was a walking meme.

She cried herself to sleep every night, wishing that she had drowned in that pool.

Not that anyone would care, but with enough bad press, they’d have to at least pretend like they were sorry.

Which is why Marinette wasn’t sorry at all when M. Damocles expelled Kim in front of the entire school.

The moment Enforcer Raincomprix read aloud the name on the strap of those goggles, students began to whisper.

Kim was well known for stupid dares and obnoxious pranks.

As far as everyone was concerned, the evidence was incriminating enough to justify M. Damocles decision and have Enforcers escort Kim off school grounds.

Whether it was enough to have Kim sent to maison de correction and have his family foot the bill for property damages, who could say?

It didn’t matter if it was enough to convict him or not; the accusation alone would tarnish his reputation forever.

Forget getting accepted into a University, no job would be willing to hire him, considering how many kids had important families who loved to gossip.

Kim would have to move to another city, maybe even another country!

(Marinette also couldn’t help but notice that a few of the students complaining of burns were the same who gave her particularly nasty nicknames last year, including “water-phobic retard.” That had to be the power of the Lucky Charm, right?)

It was savory and satisfying.

But Lê Chiến Kim was nothing more than a hors d'oeuvres, and Marinette was far from feeling full.

With Kim out of the way, she could now devote her time and extra care to people who really mattered.

Speaking of which….

Despite needing to get back home to run the register at the Bakery, Marinette was willing to risk her mother’s lecture in order to hang back after school to catch a lovely show-

After determining the premises was safe, students were allowed to return to classes, and the fruits of Marinette’s labor paid off.

Now, Chloe was screaming at Sabrina, actually smacking the ginger haired girl’s head with her designer purse, and accusing her of being useless, utterly useless!

Not only was Mme. Mendeleiev unwilling to extend the deadline for the science report, she was planning to call their parents to let them know their daughters have been slacking off in school.

AND IT WAS ALL SABRINA’S FAULT! How could she forget to bring their homework?! Why does she even bother to keep her around?!

(Mme. Bustier was also very disappointed, and concerned that both girls somehow forgot an entire week of homework. She is willing to extend her deadlines, but she will have to deduct points away from their grade for being tardy.)

Sabrina insists she didn’t forget! She had everything done and ready to be turned in! She had it all in her locker this morning!

Chloe isn’t interested in excuses, and says that if Sabrina is going to be this incompetent, she can easily be replaced.

This leaves the other girl sobbing, begging on her knees for another chance, swearing she’ll do better!

Yes, this was what would make it all worth it, and it was only the beginning!

These two had done far too much for their punishment to be a one-and-done.

They deserved to suffer slowly, steadily, having their misery increase little by little until they were the ones crying till their eyes were swollen shut, wishing they were dead.

The very thought made Marinette’s mouth water.

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boyrobott · 2 months

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i had the best day with you today

"You guys—?" Astro stares around the penthouse kitchen in total disbelief, turning slowly on the spot to try and take in everything at once — colorful streamers draped haphazardly over every available surface, and a paper banner clumsily tacked up over the arched entryway, one side noticeably lower than the other, and a cake on the table, topped with white icing and blue sprinkles and flickering candles, a handful of presents wrapped in bright yellow gift paper beside it. "You guys threw me a birthday party?"

Read on AO3.

Astro knows it's been a year since his fight with the Peacekeeper, because everybody is talking about it again, and the reminders are everywhere he goes — President Logan wants him to make a speech about the whole thing, for crying out loud, and he knows the guy means well, but he really wants to say no, except he's not sure if he can do that politely, and he's not sure if he can do it at all, actually, because this is the president he's talking about, and the last time he said no to the president, he died twice in as many hours, and he'd prefer not to repeat that experience, please and thank you.

On top of that, every reporter in the entire city is trying to corner him for an impromptu interview about the year-old battle, armed with cameras and microphones and notepads, and he doesn't want to be rude to them when he knows they're just doing their job, but he doesn't want to relive that day again, either, so lately he's been taking every backroad and byway he knows to avoid them.

Things aren't much better at school, either, where it's an even fifty-fifty split between the classmates who pepper him with way more invasive, uncomfortable questions about the Peacekeeper than the reporters ever have, and the classmates who never wanted a robot around in the first place, and now they're seething about all the renewed interest in the fight, which means they're being twice as nasty as usual — TJ Porter, the unofficial ringleader of that second group, had a "conversation" with his friends in the school cafeteria yesterday about Astro's "future career" as a worthless pile of rusted, used-up metal in the junkyard.

(Astro tried his hardest to pretend he didn't hear TJ at all, and tried even harder than that to not think about this time last year, when he actually was facing a future as a worthless pile of rusted, used-up scrap metal in the junkyard.)

The HRA just recently published a brand-new and characteristically scathing article about the upcoming anniversary, too, and Astro knows he probably shouldn't have read it, but morbid curiosity can be very persuasive when it wants to be, so he knows exactly what they said about him, and he knows it went like this: A year has gone by since the combat robot known as Astro Boy caused all manner of property damage, supposedly in the name of "helping" the city, and still, the wider community continues to passively accept its presence in our skies and streets, even allowing it to attend public junior high school with our children. When will the proud people of this great nation come to their senses, and realize how deceiving appearances can truly be? This "Astro Boy" is no more a child than your local bank-teller, and it experiences no more emotion than the average vacuum cleaner.

(Astro turned off his phone for the next forty-eight hours after that, and tried not to think about this time last year, when the HRA was publishing articles about him in the immediate aftermath of the Peacekeeper fiasco, saying perhaps the former President Stone was correct in his opinions, if not his execution, of what to do about this blatant misuse of Ministry technology and we must hope that Dr. Tenma intends to eliminate this danger to the public before it can do any further damage to our city.)

Astro knows it's been a year since his fight with the Peacekeeper.

That doesn't mean he wants to think about it.

But the reminders are everywhere he goes, and everyone is talking about it, and everyone wants to hear him talk about it, too, and President Logan wants him to stand up in front of the city and make a whole speech about it, talk about the week when the whole world wanted him dead, and he was all alone and nobody wanted him and he didn't know who he was, and he barely even knew what he was, really, except that he wasn't human and he wasn't Tobi so he wasn't good enough and nobody wanted him and he was all alone and Dr. Elefun had lied when he said there's a place for you, you just have to find it, and he can't stop waking up in the middle of the night with panicked apologies spilling from his lips, saying I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry Dad I'm so sorry I'm so sorry Dad please I'm sorry I'm sorry I swear I swear I'll do better I swear I'll do everything right I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry please Dad please don't kill me—

Yeah, Astro knows it's been a year since the Peacekeeper.

How could he forget?

But he's so busy thinking about it, and trying not to, that he actually does forget something else that also happened in the same week — something that isn't the Peacekeeper, something that isn't the ice-cold grief and crushing loneliness of waking up on his own in the junkyard, in a pile of robots that were just as unwanted as him, or the burning fury of the Robot Games, the bone-deep humiliation as Hamegg treated him like a monkey in a circus, the iron-heavy guilt of murdering all those other robots, the choking sorrow of knowing he'd just lost the best and only friends he'd ever had, and the devastation and despair of realizing he was going to die when he'd barely begun to live, the devastation and despair of realizing he had nothing left to live for.

Something else also happened in the same week.

But he's so busy trying not to think about anything from that week he completely forgets all about it.

Everyone else remembers, though.

He's been so wrapped up in everything, trying to come up with a polite way to decline President Logan's request without accidentally alienating another elected official so soon after the last one, and trying to avoid the overzealous journalists around every corner, and trying not to think about this time last year, trying not to get lost in the memories, crystal-clear like it all happened just yesterday, that he didn't remember or even really know it was his birthday today, but it is, isn't it?

On this day last year, he wasn't waking up on his own in the junkyard — he was waking up in his father's lab at the Ministry of Science in the dead of night, his systems coming online and the cameras behind his eyes pulling the world into sharper and sharper and sharper focus until all the pixels suddenly coalesced together, and he saw his dad and Dr. Elefun for the first time. On this day last year, his artificial lungs were expanding with his first breath, and the synthetic vocal cords in his throat were vibrating with his first words, and the joints in his knees were whirring with his first steps.

On this day last year, he wasn't dying on a cold metal table with his father's grief-stricken apologies still ringing in his ears — he was coming alive.

He can't believe he forgot.

But everyone else remembered, and they're throwing him a whole party for it, even though it's technically an activation day, and not a birthday, and robots don't actually celebrate their activation days, anyway.

He wants to thank them. He wants to tell them they didn't have to do all this just for him, and he wants to tell them he can't believe they did do all this just for him, and he wants to tell them it's totally amazing, and he loves it, and he's sorry he's being so weird about it but as soon as he can wrap his mind around it, he's going to be really, really happy.

But his brain is frozen, and he's not sure he could push everything he wants to say past the lump in his throat, anyway.

"You really don't have to pretend you didn't see this coming, Astro," Cora shakes her head, but she's laughing as she does. "Widget and Sludge gave it away, like, a thousand times all week. It's okay. We know you already knew."

"Everyone expects a surprise party on their birthday, Cora!" Widget counters immediately, with the air of somebody who's already had this argument on several previous occasions. "And if they expect it, then it's not really a surprise! So you've got to make it super-duper clear to them that you are throwing them a party, because then they think it's going to be something totally different, and then it's not! Which means it really is a surprise! And! Look at him! He is very obviously surprised! Check and mate!"

Sludge nods proudly, standing up as tall as he can and puffing out his chest. "It was a double submersion!"

Dr. Elefun chuckles. "That's called a double subversion, Sludge."

"Same difference," Sludge rolls his eyes.

"It's really not," Orrin says.

"I-I didn't even know you guys knew my birthday," Astro stammers, awkward and uncertain, because it's honestly the only thing he can think to say. "Did I tell you, and then just… forget?" Come to think of it, he's not actually sure if that's even possible — with such an advanced artificial intelligence installed in his system, he can easily remember everything that's ever happened to him in precise, pin-sharp detail — but it also sounds exactly like the kind of thing he'd do.

"Oh, no, your dad gave us a heads-up, actually," Widget tells him. "He… what did you call it, Zane? 'Came through in the clutch'?"

Zane gives her a thumbs-up. "You got it."

I didn't know my dad knew my birthday, either, Astro thinks, but he catches himself a second before he actually says it out loud, biting his tongue against the instinctive response. "Oh."

"Yeah, four days ago," Cora huffs, rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest. "We had four days to get everything together for this. And your dad totally sucks at parties, by the way, so he was zero help. He was just like—" she pushes her voice down to a much deeper octave, in an obvious imitation of his dad's low, gruff tone, "—oh, yeah, it's Astro's birthday on Sunday, haha, isn't it crazy how time flies! And then he was gone!"

"Guilty as charged," Dad says mildly, without so much as a trace of said guilt in his voice, and a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he's trying his best not to laugh. "I've been persona non grata with everyone since then."

"Anyway," Cora jumps in again, pulling the conversation back on-track, "that's why this isn't as awesome as the birthday party you guys put together for me in February. We just didn't have enough time to do everything we wanted — we'll do something way cooler next year, though, trust me. It'll blow this one right out of the water, you'll see."

Astro can't believe she honestly thinks there could ever be anything better than this — the people he loves more than anything in the world all gathered together in the same room, safe and smiling and happy, and here just for him. He can't believe they did all of this just for him. He can't even begin to imagine what Cora thinks could top this.

"No, no, this is—this is perfect," he chokes out, his vision getting suspiciously blurry all of a sudden, but he's also smiling so wide it's hurting his face. "Seriously, guys, I love this. It's perfect. Thank you so much for doing this for me."

"Of course!" Orrin chirps cheerfully, like it's totally unthinkable that they wouldn't do all this just for him, and he rolls forward a little to wrap Astro in a hug. "We love you! You're such a wonderful person, and a great friend, and we're so excited to celebrate your birthday with oh my god the cake is on fire!"

"What?!"

Everybody immediately abandons their positions to scramble over to the table and stare down at the confection — which is, in fact, very much on fire, a bright orange-gold flame about the size of a grown man's hand dancing wildly atop the buttercream frosting.

"Holy crap!" Zane screeches. "What the heck kinda birthday candles do that?! Birthday candles should not do that!"

"You lit them too early!" Dad turns on him a little too quickly for this to be a brand-new argument. "I told you that we should have waited for him to get here before we lit the candles! Why didn't you just listen to me?!"

"Who cares why it happened?! The cake is on fire!" Cora yells at the pair of them as she dashes over to the sink, fills a glass with water straight from the faucet, and races back to the table with the cup clutched in her hand, clear fluid spilling out the sides and splashing over her fingers. Of course she's already three steps ahead of the rest of them — she always is, even in situations as unexpected as this.

But before she can douse the flame, Orrin throws himself in front of the cake with his arms spread wide in the universal pose of Fearless Action Hero Taking A Bullet For Another Character. "No, no, wait! Don't do that! The cake will get soggy! And then it'll be ruined!"

Cora grinds to a dead halt, the water still swirling violently around inside the glass, and gapes at Orrin like she's never properly seen him before. "Are you being for real?! Are you actually being for real right now?! The cake is on fire!"

"I know, but I worked so hard on it!" Orrin wails miserably. "And it's perfect! Astro is going to love it!"

"I-It's fine, Orrin," Astro rushes to reassure him, but he's way more focused on the miniature bonfire in the center of the table than the cake beneath it. "Seriously, it's totally okay. Let's just—"

"Salt!" Sludge hollers, waving his arms around in the air like a traffic controller. "Salt won't make the cake soggy, and it'll put out the fire, too, right? We can use some salt!"

Poor Orrin looks like he's about to cry. "But that'll ruin it, too!"

"We don't have a whole lot of other options here, Orrin!" Dad barks at him. "We have to take care of that fire now! It's going to get out of control!"

"This is not my fault!" Zane declares, despite the fact that no one is directly accusing him anymore. "You know what? It's your fault!" He jabs an accusatory finger at Tenma. "Yeah! It's your fault for having such crappy birthday candles that they can't even burn for—!"

"The birthday candles were perfectly fine!"

"Then why the heck are they burning so quickly?! Answer me that, Science Man!"

"Because they're birthday candles! They're not supposed to burn for long periods of time! That's why I told you not to light them until Astro actually got here, but—"

"Orrin," Cora seethes, in that dangerous voice she always uses when she's about to explode with sheer rage. "If you don't get out of my way in the next ten seconds, I swear I'm going to—"

"Oh, for the love of God!" Apparently, even Dr. Elefun has lost all patience. "Somebody just blow it out!"

Everyone goes dead silent and statue-still for a long, loaded second, gawking at Dr. Elefun like they've never even considered the concept of blowing out birthday candles before. Honestly, Astro is kind of embarrassed no one else came up with it first.

"…Huh," Zane says finally. "Probably should have thought of that one sooner, yeah."

"No, no, wait! Astro has to do it!" Widget pipes up, as Cora skirts around Orrin and bends down over the cake to follow Dr. Elefun's orders. "It's his birthday! He has to blow out the candles, doesn't he?"

"Guys, I think the fire might be kind of a bigger problem than who blows out the—okay, okay," Astro gives up the fight barely a second later, because Cora has backed off again to clear a path for him, and Sludge is trying to physically haul him over to the table with a hand on his leg, tugging on the excess denim at the knee of his jeans. He quickly steps around Cora and Orrin, leaning in close (somewhere in the background, he hears his dad mutter a quick be careful, son, like he doesn't face off against mad scientists and evil robots and convicted murderers and god only knows what else on a daily basis) to extinguish the fire in a single breath.

The whole group instantly clusters around him to inspect the huge black scorch mark on top of the cake. Poor Orrin looks absolutely devastated.

"I'm sure it still tastes okay," Astro pats him on the shoulder. "We can just cut that piece off, or something. It's really no big deal." He reaches to pull out a couple of the burnt candles — the lingering heat will sting, of course, but not as badly as it would if he had human skin — but he freezes halfway there, because the burnt candles… are not candles, actually. "Uh… Zane… w-why did you use… matchsticks?"

"You did what?" Dad wheels around to fix Zane with the Minister of Science Death Glare that has left lesser men (including Astro) fleeing the room in terror.

"Oh, man, that's what those things were?" Zane pushes past Cora and the twins to get a closer look. "I thought they were just really crappy candles! Sorry, Science Man, that's my bad." He even has the guts to reach up and pat Dad on the back, despite the fact that Tenma looks two seconds away from picking him up and bodily throwing him out of the penthouse.

"How did you even light these?" Astro asks, to defuse the impending argument (and also because, now that he's thinking about it, he actually really wants to know) as he hastily plucks the smoldering sticks out of the cake. "I mean, since you thought the matches were birthday candles…"

Zane puts a hand in the pocket of his shabby brown jacket and pulls it back out again a minute later to show off a silver cigarette lighter. "Duh. How do you think?"

"Oh, my god!" Tenma snatches it straight out of Zane's open palm before anyone else can react. "Why on earth do you have a lighter?! Who gave you a lighter?!"

"Hey!" Zane makes a wild grab for it, but Dad has at least six inches on him, and easily holds it out of his reach. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you guys don't carry them around, too! I mean, you never know when you need to set something on fire, am I right?"

"Um," Dr. Elefun says. "How many times have you needed to set something on fire, exactly?"

There's a suspiciously long second of silence after that, wherein Dad looks like he's having a few dozen heart attacks right there in the middle of the kitchen, and Zane wrinkles his brow in an expression of deep concentration. Astro has a terrible feeling that he's counting the various occasions in his head.

"You know what!" Orrin says, all of a sudden, and very loudly, in an excruciatingly obvious effort to break the tension, and redirect the conversation. "Why don't we have some cake! Who wants cake? Everyone wants cake, right? Everyone loves cake! Can't go wrong with cake!"

"Uh, yeah, let me help you with that," Astro gratefully latches onto the excuse to escape whatever kind of chaos is inevitably going to happen next, hurrying after Orrin into the kitchen proper. He grabs a handful of forks from the cutlery drawer, and pulls down a stack of plates from the cupboard, piling it all together to make it easier to carry before he heads back over to the dining table.

Orrin is already there, patiently removing a few of the matchsticks he missed in his shock over Zane's cigarette lighter, and carefully cutting the blackened section away from the rest with a large knife, while Cora and Zane are arguing vehemently over whether arson can really be considered a hobby or not. Widget and Sludge are arguing even more vehemently about which one of them did a better job of keeping the surprise party under wraps all week, while Tenma and Elefun are talking with their heads together, probably trying to decide how to tell Zane's foster parents that their twelve-year-old charge has a lighter.

(Astro really can't believe Cora thinks there's anything that could be better than this — the people he loves more than anything in the world all gathered together in the same room, even if they're all a little frazzled from the fire, and the cuff of Widget's sleeve looks a bit singed.)

Right at that moment, Dad glances up and locks eyes with Astro, still lingering on the edge of the group with the plates in his hands, and waves him over. Astro quickly deposits the dishes on the table and makes his way over to his dad — who, to his intense surprise, puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close in a kind of side-hug.

Astro thinks about this time last year — waking up on his own in the junkyard, standing in the arena under the blinding sun as the Robot Games raged on and on, realizing he had nothing left to live for, realizing the whole world would be better and happier if he wasn't in it anymore, dying on a cold metal table with his father's grief-stricken apologies still ringing in his ears — and he realizes, with a funny kind of jolt in the pit of his stomach, that his life really could not be any more different now: he's alive, making a tangible positive difference in the city, surrounded by people who love him just as much as he loves them, and he's so happy he feels like he must be overflowing with it.

(He's not alone anymore.)

"I'm sorry about all this," his dad murmurs, pulling him suddenly out of his thoughts. "I know this has gotten off to a… rough start."

Astro thinks about this time last year, and shrugs it off, his mind finally calm for the first time in a week. "That's okay. The best things usually do."

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