#did i leave the house with clothes pegs under my top like this? yes
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Stories of Paris
Part 4
Part One Part Three AO3
Masterlist
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Damian was unhappy with the fact that with ‘strangers’ in *his* house their nightly activities would have to carefully navigated. His father nor Pennyworth had not explicitly said anything about it, but he assumed it was because they all knew what was expected. So, being told to line up in the entrance hall by his father went down like a lead balloon.
His pout turned in widening eyes of shock as he witnessed the tall wiry young woman (and a large man he supposed) exiting the car. SHE was his father’s babysitter. This was who oversaw the European branch of W.E. The person who owned the largest portion of shares of W.E (after the Wayne family that is). He was doomed. Damain watched as his father soften as he saw the woman.
“Mari! You never seem to age!” he exclaimed as she gracefully walked up to him and into his embrace.
“Mon cherie! It’s miraculous isn’t it,” she drew back slightly to look over his shoulder, “I see you have taken found family comment to the extreme, but I suppose you were never one to do things in half measures. It’s good to be back here after so long”
Looking at her like he was a child with pleading eyes, “You are staying here, right?”
With a gentle smile with a smirking edge, “Yes. If I tried to leave for a hotel, I’ll end up having the shadows watching me all night. Plus, this place always did feel like my home away from home.”
Damian glancing at his supposed siblings to see that they were also in shock. Probably not for the same reason. Panicking with it all, as he saw his father turn to introduce them to the woman, Damian drew his katana and aimed it at her.
“YOU were fathers' babysitter!!! But... what... you’re younger than him!!!! .... You’re the Grand Lady Guardian... I *refuse* to return.”
Damian vaguely recognised his name being shouted at him, but all his attention was on the Grand Lady Guardian of the Miraculous who stood, rolling her eyes, before him. He could feel her power radiating off, surrounding them all.
“Petit Tresor. I’m not taking you back there. Did you not learn anything from my teachings? Did you not learn to read between the lines? About looking deeper than the surface. You are with *your* found family. THEY are what is important. Bruce may have picked up a lot of my unhealthy habits about vigilantism, but he made a point of understand a good support network and the importance of chosen family. Despite how he enacts the teachings.”
The Monkey with her came to her shoulder and raised his eyebrow at Damian. He finally understood why he was always her bodyguard now rather than the Cat, being that he was her husband.
“You can stand down Petit Tresor. League and Court business will *not* be found here. The League know what will happen if they cross the Court, and I made it very clear after our last encounter when they tried to manipulate us to their advantage.”
Damian assessed the woman before him as he withdrew his katana from her and starting to become aware of the others around him again.
“Why has he got a chaos shard within him Bruce?” The monkey growled looking at him with a dangerous glint in his eye.
Everyone in the entrance hall was frozen in shock and panic. What was meant to be a happy reunion had been derailed but now, suddenly, somehow gained an even sharper edge. Marinette and her husband were aware of their nightly capers, and they also knew of the League, they were involved in something similar and aware of chaos shards.
Damian watched as his father gulped as he looked at the Monkey and the Guardian. It wasn’t often his father showed fear, but it was clear on his face as she arched her eyebrow at him. His siblings all looked on in surprise and uncertain of what to expect. Only Pennyworth and Todd seemed to be handling the situation with any sense of calmness. Surprising for Todd...
“Mari... his mother... the league...”
At the mention of the league the Guardians eye twitch so subtly you’d hardly notice it if not trained and with a minute flicker of her hand, the Monkey flipped his phone out and was walking out back outside to call someone... Damian straining his ears heard Peg and plan 42c being mentioned by the Monkey to whoever he had called.
“They were warned. Tsk, Assassin’s bullheadedness. Kim will sort this out for me for the present moment and we will discuss healing at a later point. Anyway, mon cherie, you were about to introduce me to your children. Petit Tresor I know, and I believe that that is Jason, mon rêveur, in the background though he has grown so much since our last meeting. So, I could guess everyone else, but why don’t you continue?”
The Guardian stated as if the topic of what just happened was over, much to Damian’s surprise. He sheafed his katana but still was wary of the woman and slightly in awe. He had a feeling that the chaos and downfall of his grandfather may have due to her in some way. Slight fear and dread for his mother was building as well. He finally starting to understand the reason for her over protectiveness when she taught him in the league now.
“Right. Mari, this is Dick, Jason who you already met in person? Cass and alongside her Duke, Tim who you meet briefly in the W.E. meeting the other month, Steph who has wormed her way into the family and Damian you who’ve also already met?”
With a polite cough drawing attention to himself, Alfred spoke. “Perhaps, instead of having a mother’s meeting in the entrance hall, we retreat to the drawing room where we can have some refreshments. I am sure that Ms Marinette and Master Kim are exhausted from their travels. It is most unbecoming to stand around loitering, wouldn’t you agree Master Bruce?”
Bruce muttered something as his ears started to tinge red, Marinette turned to Alfred and smiled as she drew him into a hug while Bruce collected himself.
“Yes, right, that sounds like a fantastic idea Alfred. Mari, shall we?”
Bruce offered her an arm which she elegantly took as the took off in the direction of the drawing room delving into conversation with Bruce leaving behind a shocked collection on children in the hall. Alfred slipped off to prepare the refreshments.
Damian cringed as Dick exclaimed, “YOU GUYS KNOW HER?!?!?!!” which echoed around the manor as he finally processed what had just happened.
______________________________________________
Alfred smiled as the atmosphere within the Manor shifted over the last few weeks. It now had a different air about it. Master Bruce became less sullen and slightly less repressed under Marinette’s watch and the Manor started to feel lighter again.
Alfred had found great amusement when he stumbled in on Master Kim lecturing Master Bruce on being dense especially the “I know I’m dense but kwami Bruce! You’re worse than me realising all the competitions I got Mare rigged into was because I wanted to impress her! Let’s start at the beginning, ok?!”.
He hoped that Master Kim might be able to knock a bit of sense into his wayward charge. He knew Ms Marinette, though full of good intentions wouldn’t be able to with Master Bruce’s strange ability to pick up on the wrong message being given.
The highlight of the week was when he entered the family living room to find all his grandchildren looking pale as Master Bruce acted semi child-like in front of Ms Marinette. It was a delight to see Bruce act like the child that he knew he was reawakened again. Even if it terrified the grandchildren.
The whole family discovered that Bruce had been very selective of the stories and information that he had told them about Marinette. She had taken great delight telling them all about what teenage Bruce really was like.
About the time Bruce had a fan induced panic attack on meeting the Jagged Stone. Alfred was slightly aware of something happened but not the details.
About the time Bruce decided to practice parkour in the Manor gardens and ended up stuck halfway up the side of the Manor unable to climb up further or climb down. Alfed was positive he was unaware that Marinette joined him and had to coach Bruce down.
About the series of times that Bruce attempted to prove to Alfred that he had ‘outgrown the kitchen ban’ and had ‘observed Mari’s baking skills sufficiently’ to be able to try again for only the attempts to go south fast. Alfred grimaced at the memories that that bought up. He was glad that he’d got a good working deal with local kitchen fitters and suppliers given the number of fires.
It became a daily breakfast occurrence that Bruce mortified Marinette in his outfit for the day. The breakfast entertainment became watching Marinette tear into his fashion choice of the day, drag up some past clothing or costume disaster. She ended up moaning that he had learnt nothing from her rantings about clothes over the years and stare forlornly into her coffee cup. It was providing the bat boys a wealth of black mail material that Alfred had to on numerous occasions reel Marinette from her tangents.
The only time he let her completely go to town with was letting her regale to everyone about Bruce’s dramatic and insistent argument on fighting crime in Lyca, wearing pants on top of tights and with a cape, that he really insisted that he didn’t need to use Kevlar (that decision didn’t last beyond a few training sessions and one patrol night). Alfred was pleased with her ability to rein that disaster in quickly.
It was in the comfort of the kitchen away from the antics that happened Alfred mused and reflected on his notional niece's visit. Alfred wished he had thought to bring Marinette over sooner as he witnessed that fraught relationships between the Waynes soften. Issues didn’t disappear but Marinettes presence, and ability due to dealing with Akuma, helped mitigate situations which typically would have blown up. Kim always by her side would help soothe, distract, or explain to the puzzled Bruce the techniques Marinette was using to stop the escalation.
She’d slowly began charming and connecting with his grandchildren. Be it by giving Tim pointers on how to manage W.E board members effectively and playing video games. It was eerily like how she warmed Bruce up to her.
By Sitting quietly reading with Jason or playing chess and talking in metaphors about life, death and balance. Slowly having ‘healing sessions to calm the pit madness’ with meditation and grounding sessions.
With Damian she seemed to remind him of alternate grounding techniques which she’d shown him in the league. They seemed to spend time talking in hushed whispers about other stuff that Alfred wasn’t currently privy too.
Duke was with poetry and music. Cass with dance and gymnastics, silent subtle conversations occurred but seeing Cass smile and edge towards being more tactile made Alfred glow with warmth inside. Steph and Marinette commanded the kitchen numerous times baking pastries, waffles and other treats.
Dick took the longest to warm up to the woman, having heard and known about her for over a deacade but never met it was understandable. Alfred wpould never knew what Marinette had done but one day the hostility and coldness disappeared. A joy, childlike smile appeared on Dicks face every time she was in the room, and he’d follow her round like a loat puppy. Watching and mimicking her techniques to calm his brothers down.
How his grandchildren acted with Marinette in the activities brought echoes of memories of her with Bruce to the forefront of Alfred’s mind.
Sighing, in the short time the Manor felt warm and like a family, a home should feel like. Much like before his friends’ death. Schooling his emotions, Alfred set about to serve the family and Parisians last dinner together.
______________________________________________
Bruce tried not to sulk. Tried not to revert to the mind set of when Marinette originally disappeared physically from his life. Especially in front of his children but it was hard. She somehow always managed to take the overwhelming pressure away from him, like he could breathe and be.
Alfred was his father, in all the ways that counted, but the burden of death and saving the world was something Marinette understood at a deeper more personal level. Having her here made it feel safe to feel, that he would always be caught. That she would save him from the consuming darkness. She was the light in the world shining out in the Gotham gloom.
As expected, his children adored her in their unique ways. Following her around like little ducks scrabbling for crumbs of knowledge and titbits of information. Bruce lips twitched as he witnessed them behaving much like he used to. Taking the gems’ she passed on to them and ferreting them away much like he did.
“Master Bruce, I expect better behaviour this leaving gathering than our previous party, please.”
With Alfred’s comments Bruce gave into the feeling of pouting. Why deny how he felt toward the situation where he wasn’t in control. He pointedly ignored the stares that his children were giving him. Again.
“Mon tresor! It’s not like you aren’t going to see or speak to me again. We speak regularly as it is. It’s not the same as it was last time. You know this.”
“But Mari, it's nice having you here. This is your home.”
“Is he always like this Mare, Cupcake? How is it that all the kid’s you’ve looked after end up demanding you live with them?”
Bruce choked at Kim’s statement and the Wayne clan burst into laughter. Alfred let a small smirk grace his face.
“Oui, Mon Amour, He wasn’t happy last time I left at all. Be grateful I learnt to resist kitten eyes or we’d never have reconnected. Manon doesn’t count. She’s practically family as well with how close Maman and Nadja are.”
“What about Elle, Etta and Chris? What about Ivan’s and Mylene’s sproglian? Fang? Jagged’s second round of terrors? Luka and Jules too really.”
“Hush, Mon Amour, circumstantial evidence.”
Bruce observed Kim stare at his wife in disbelief before waving his hand around the room.
“What about these then. Don’t give me that look Cupcake. I’m gonna end up needing to fight the whole batclan at this rate to get you on a plane with me! Maybe I should give Peg’s the heads up that I’ll need his help.”
“I can assure you Master Kim that you *both* are free to leave. The young master's understand that they cannot kidnap you. It would not be becoming of them OR look good for the company for the family to kidnap its own workers.”
Bruce and his family guiltily ducked their heads at Alfred’s comments. When Alfred turned away to start talking to Kim, Tim leant in close to Bruce to whisper to him.
“Do you think we have the power to move her to being director of North America rather than Europe? Mari would be closer then? Plus, the guy in charge isn’t all he’s cracked up to be so the board would likely approve it.”
Bruce stared at his son at the ingenious and simple solution and smiled, before ducking his head when Alfred pointedly looked his way.
“We’ll discuss that concept later.”
Bruce gave Tim a subtle nod as if he was approving the idea. Technically he was but Alfred didn’t need to know that. Nor did Kim really, as he would fight him if he found out and he’d rather not deal with an ex-olympian superhero, even when he pulled his punches they hurt far more than the average persons.
Bruce sat back into his seat and smiled as the conversation and chaos flowed around him. His whole family finally together and he cherished it. He knew it wasn’t going to last much longer with the impending flight looming but for now he had a potential and creative plan to work on. If he framed it right it could also become the prefect family bonding activity that both Marinette and Kim thought he needed to do more of outside of vigilantism. And if the end result was that she moved closer, well, that’s just an added bonus in his eyes.
With that in mind, Bruce joined in with the choas enjoying the moment with his complete family. Nothing could take this away from him.
Tag:
@neakco @corporeal-terrestrial @jayjayspixiepop @lady-bee-fechin @prettylittlebutterflie
#maribat#maribat au#ml crossover#ml x dc#mlb x dc#dc x ml#dc x mlb#marinette x bruce#marinette x alfred#platonic#found family#babysitting#marinette x jason#marinette x dick#marinette x tim#marinette x damian#all platonic#dickinette#jasonette#timari#damianette
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Car Sick P1 ~ Dominic Calvert-Lewin
A/N: This is sort of carried on from this blurb I wrote a while ago, bc I loved the idea and wanted to write more for it, you should probs read that first to catch the vibes. This is for @footballffbarbiex writing challenge based on tv and film. I used this storyline from Modern Family with Gloria and Jay. Once again, no real timeline with this, just made up scenarios. I struggled with the next bit of this so I asked you how you wanted it and you chose 2 parts, here's the 1st. Enjoy :)
Warnings: pregnancy, kids, step parents, injury mention - reader is female
Summary: You thought you were just feeling car sick, turns out it's something else...
gif by @hishairmyweakness - gif by @delstroyer
You were dropping your daughter off at Dele's for a long weekend since he didn't have a match or training to attend. After she had squeezed the biggest hug out of her dad and trudged dirt in his hallway, she perched on the sofa with her ipad and juicebox, leaving you and Dele to catch up.
Dele had been showing you how he redecorated his kitchen so you accepted a drink and decided to stay a little while. Plus you figured the news you had for him should rather be said in person than over the phone.
"Hey, Del, I have something to tell you." You said nervously, leaning your hands on the kitchen island. He turned around and took a sip of the drink he just poured as he walked closer to the other side of the island opposite you. "Go ahead." He replied, his eyebrows knitted in concern at your worried tone.
"Well, remember when we stopped by last Friday since you were playing on her birthday?" you recollected and he nodded along. "And I had one of those herbal teas and a tablet because I was feeling car sick?" "Yeah..." he trailed off quietly, putting his drink on the counter between you. "Turns out I wasn't car sick," he frowned in confusion and looked even more lost than he did a moment ago.
You fiddled your fingers together and took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You knew you could trust Dele with absolutely anything. You'd been close since you were teenagers, grew closer when you started dating and left nothing in the way when you had a baby. Being so young when it happened meant a lot of things turned against you, a lot of people with a lot of opinions trying to dictate your lives and yet you stuck it through. You haven't been together romantically for a while, however your relationship with him never faultered, your connection of trust staying strong.
But it didn't make this any easier to say. It wasn't hard to see when Dele got hit by moments of gloom at the sight of the mini family you were creating with Dominic. While your split years ago was amicable, and neither of you would rekindle that flame again, more than happy with your close friendship, Dele couldn't stop that jealous bubble rising in him when he saw your daughter enjoy spending time with Dom as much as she does with him. Blame his stubbornness but facing change wasn't his strongest suit. This news was going to be a big step away from that picturesque life you both once envisioned together and you desperately didn't want it to drive a wedge between you nor push Dele away. You had settled into a good rhythmic system with him that suited your daughter and your schedules, you'd hate to tarnish that in any way.
So, yes, you hesitated to tell him.
You sighed and picked at your nails, needing to just get it out before it drove you crazy.
"I'm pregnant."
Dele's eyes went wide and his mouth opened a little from shock, the frown lines that creased his forehead disappearing. His breath was taken away. Nothing prepared him to hear those words come from your mouth and know that he wasn't involved. It was bound to happen but it still took him by surprise.
He tilted his head as he looked at you, nervously twiddling your thumbs like you always did, and it only took a few seconds for a smile to slowly grow on his face. "That," he cleared his throat and met your eyes with sincerity, "that's great. Congratulations."
He scuffed his socked feet along the floor as he walked round the counter to wrap you in a warm hug. He squeezed your shoulder and gave your cheek a quick kiss when he pulled away, a genuine smile on his face. No, he wasn't involved this time, but he knew how amazing it was to experience pregnancy and he was certain Dominic would take to it greatly.
"What did Dom say?" He asked, leaning over to grab his glass and take another drink. Your breath caught in your throat and that made Dele side-eye you mid sip. "You haven't told him, have you?" He questioned gently, and you shook your head.
Now it was his turn to sigh.
The glass clinked loudly in the quiet room when he put it back down, and he had a ton of questions he could have asked you and a ton of things he could have told you to do that he thought was right, but it wasn't his place. Not anymore. So he took a moment to think whilst you rubbed your hands down your front to straighten out your t-shirt again.
"Are you going to?" You tutted and looked back up at him incredulously. "Of course I am Del, think it'll be pretty hard to miss when I'll be bursting through my clothes!" You joked and he held his hands up in defence as he chuckled, realising it was a stupid question.
"Are you nervous, then?" He tried again, this time opting for something more reasonable. "More nervous than when I told you for the first time." You admitted. Dele whistled lowly and shook his head with a laugh.
The state you were in a bit under 7 years ago now when you told him you were going to have his child, it was something else. He still insists he hasn't seen someone so frantic, before or since. He could only imagine what was coming Dominic's way.
---
There were plenty of reasons for you to believe Dom would be happy to be a dad. He adored his young brother and truly enjoyed spending time with him when he was back home. He was thoughtful and attentive with all the people he knew so you know he'd be the same, multiplied by a million, when it came to a child that depended on him.
But the way he cared for your daughter above anyone else proved to you, without a doubt, how good he would be. Dom wasn't her biological father, but that never once stopped him loving her the way she deserved. Dom made sacrifices when he needed to and even when he didn't. He'd stay awake if she couldn't sleep, he'd ask to see her on facetime when he was travelling and he always asked her about school, he even did the afternoon pick up with you when he got the chance. If Dom would be such an amazing figure in the life of a little girl he had no obligation to be a part of, just imagine what he'd be like with his own child.
You wouldn't question his want or excitement to have kids with you at any time, having spoken about it before.
Any time except now.
Dom hadn't been himself the last week, and justifiably so. He picked up a knee injury in the Merseyside derby last Saturday that resulted in him hopelessly limping off the pitch with the physio under his arm to hold him up. A torn ACL was the conclusion after a couple hours in the hospital. While an injury was never welcome, a minimum six months out was tough to take. But with the upcoming England tournament he'd been called up for that he will now have to miss, alongside the rest of the Premier League season, it shattered him. His club and his country had important matches this year and it killed him to not be able to help secure some much needed wins for them.
Most of Sunday was spent doting on him, helping him relax and alleviating both his physical and mental pain, offering comfort through his favourite meals and hours of cuddles, something your daughter happily assisted with.
However, by the time Monday rolled around, his rest was stifled by your daughter's birthday party.
Despite how often you'd sat him back down, Dom wasn't used to sitting all day and had helped you decorate the house whilst your girl was at school. The balloons were littered in the front room, the buffet snacks laid out on the dining table, and the banners Dom had pinned on the ceiling blew from the gentle breeze coming in through the back door.
So by the time you pulled into the drive with a car full of young girls eager for sugar, Dom was working on half a bar of energy already. Yet he played along with the party activities and managed to dance, or more shuffle, to some Disney songs on his crutches inbetween sneaking mini sausage rolls and chocolate biscuits.
You could see him getting more tired as each kid left, but "she only turns 6 once, right?", so he persisted on keeping the party lively until your daughter was knocked out in bed, out of her party dress but still wearing the new bracelet she got from Grandma.
You trailed behind Dom with two cups of tea as he hobbled toward the sofa, barely managing to keep himself up despite it only being 9pm. He dropped heavily on the cushions in the corner and let his crutches fall on the carpet, not caring where they landed as long as they stayed within reach. The sigh that left him could have knocked down a tree.
Before you got comfortable, you put his mug on the table and put a random sitcom on the TV. Dom's eyes were closed and his legs were stretched out as best as they could be, his injured knee up on the couch in front of him with a cushion underneath and an ice pack held on top.
"I'm telling you, I feel way too old for this." He muttered just loud enough to hear. "You're only 24." You chuckled a little into your tea at his complaint.
"Yeah," he rolled his head your way, hair falling on his face, "but running after her makes me feel 70, she knocks me out," he spoke quietly but with the last tints of energy in his tone, "and with this peg leg too you gotta change that to 80."
You smiled at him sympathetically and loosely linked your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand as let his eyes close again.
He was joking, it was obvious. But a niggling part of your brain told you that he wasn't just being dramatic.
Admittedly it was a tiring evening with your daughter's friends running around, but with the lack of energy left in Dom, how could a baby be added to that scenario and it not be an issue? Maybe it was the wrong time. Maybe, no definitely, getting pregnant when Dom wasn't shrouded by an injury, when he didn't have frustration on top of frustration on his shoulders, when there wasn't a hyperactive 6 year old that needed attention too - that would definitely be a better time to have a baby. But that wasn't what life had handed you. Life was a little more complicated in its ways than to give you an easy run, you knew that well enough by now.
What concerned you most was how Dom would handle it. Whilst he had picked up parenting duties well over the past couple years, he hadn't been there when your daughter was a baby, nor had he seen how tough it was on you at the time. The thought of raising another was scaring you, so it would surely terrify Dom, doing it for the first time.
Even before the time came to hold them in your arms, being pregnant was no easy deal. So how could he possibly handle the stress of an upcoming baby, the stress of having to look after 2 kids in the future, the stress of a cranky pregnant girlfriend, the stress of prepping the house and himself, all whilst he's hobbling on crutches and having to watch his teammates from the sidelines too?
You sipped your tea and let the TV fill the room as your brain ran overdrive with questioning thoughts, sitting silent next to your boyfriend who's head seemed full of only the sleep he was dreaming of, oblivious to the changes that were coming his way.
#dominic calvert lewin#dominic calvert lewin imagine#dominic calvert lewin x reader#dele#dele alli#dele imagine#dele x reader#football#football imagine#my fic#oneshot#my og post
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Heyoo so I’ve been thinking about this for a while
✨ maid shigaraki✨
So imagine this ur a successful business woman god knows how many companies u own, u live in this mansion( or whatever house u want) of course u have maids and butlers, u always had liked that one maid shigaraki he was adorable and always blushing and apologizing for any mistakes he made, u always made him clean ur office just to watch him that made him super nervous he thought u were gonna fire him, not to mention every time he bent down u can see that really cute pink lacy panties u oh so love, shigaraki liked u a lot but he knows he doesn’t have a chance with u I mean look at u !!! Ur amazing and gorgeous and him will u know plus he knows he’s only a maid nothing else to u (little does he know how much u adore him), let’s say he was cleaning ur desk and drops something and breaks he panics hard ( he’s almost hyperventilating) he runs to his room to hides he knows this is his last day, u were shocked when u heard glass breaking u thought shigaraki got hurt when u came to check u found him gone ( tbh u couldn’t give a fuck what happened to that glass) u looked everywhere u didn’t find him so u called one of the butlers to get him, they finally found him, poor baby was shaking while talking to u, u were upset why was he that scared of u?? then it hit u the best idea ever he can make it up to u, u started to shush him telling him it’s ok he can make it up, he of course accepted he will do anything for u, u  brought him to ur desk and to sit on ur lap he was blushing like crazy u started to talk about how much u love him, he’s like a precious jewel (ngl that made him emotional he never thought he was that important to u)to u but u were upset that he hates u or ( u thought he didn’t like u) he panicked confessed at this point u couldn’t wait so u bend him over the desk and flapping the skirt of the dress to reveal his cute lacy panties, u wanted to punish him for breaking that glass so u spanked him for bit, at this point shigaraki was a mess moaning and whining for u to fuck him. Let’s say u never were this thankful for a glass to break
♥️Kinks as always sub shigaraki and a dom reader I would say a master kink or a mommy one u can pick and a happy ending since I don’t have it in me , loll I kind of run out of ideas for kinks , OH MAYBE U CAN PEG HIM TOO SINCE U BEND HIM OVER THE DESK, why did i think of that now anyways I hope u liked my idea as always don’t forget to drink water and get plenty of rest ♥️
-🤡
Glass
Warnings: Shiggy gets his ass eaten (as he deserves) MISTRESS KINK?! MY FIRST ONE?! anal fingering, anal penetration with toy.
By the time this is posted, I will be a fully vaccinated queen 😫🤚🏻
tbh I'm back in my mfing zone now that school is over.
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Another day, another dollar. Well, another 10,000 dollars in your case. You were the image of success. You had everything you could ask for, except someone who cared about you. Who really cared about you. Money couldn't buy you love, and even if it did, you're not sure you’d want it. No, you wanted true love—the type of love you see in your home theater. But you'd never have that. Instead, everyone saw you as a walking bag of money. They felt they were guaranteed a new house and car if they kissed you well enough (they never did).
Although, there was one person that you cared about. His name was Tomura Shigaraki. You weren't mean, but truthfully you never made an effort to learn the names of the others. You had a huge crush on him. You knew it was impossible, that kind of love that only worked out in movies, and this wasn't a movie. This was real life, and real-life was harsh. All you could do was admire him, watch him work, and gaze at him lovingly. If only he knew, if only he knew how you got butterflies when you saw him.
He looked so cute when he bent down to get something. When he was hired, you had run out of male uniforms, so he was stuck in a tiny maids dress and the undergarments to match. You never mentioned it to him when you had gotten more uniforms, and he didn't ask for a new one. You were so glad he didn't, the little dress barely covered his cute butt, and the white lacy panties under it peeked out as he cleaned. He was immediately assigned to clean your office every day. No matter how clean it was, he was tasked to come in every day and dust the spotless shelves.
He seemed to hate you, though. He’d come in and clean as fast as he could and leave immediately. It broke your heart; you tried to be kind and make small talk, but he just wasn't interested. Or so it seemed. Secretly he just got so flustered when he was with you that he couldn't stand it. He was just so scared that he'd make a mess and lose his job. You looked so intimidating sitting in your big chair with your expensive clothes.
The first time he made a mistake, he was terrified. He dropped a book and froze. He was close to tears. After that, he repeatedly apologized, offering to pack his things, but you just knelt next to him and put a finger to his lips.
“It’s okay, Tomura, ” you said, “it’s just a book. Please don't worry, ”
The use of his name, his first name, gave him butterflies like never before.
“Th-thank you, ma’am, ” he stuttered.
“No need for formalities, call me y/n, ” you said, standing up to take your seat once again.
“Thank you y/n, ” he whispered.
He was frozen. God, what a beautiful name. It just rolled off his tongue so perfectly. He finished his job quickly and went back to his room. He sat there for hours just saying your name, hearing it, tasting it. You were so beautiful, so powerful in your big leather chair, looking down at the world. Because you were above them all, you were at the top. You had made it in a way no one else could dream of.
What you did next could be considered mean, but...you just had to see more of him, so you made your office a mess. He came in and was quite surprised.
“I'm so sorry, Tomura. I worked late, and things just got...well y’know, ” you said, gesturing to your office.
“Please don't be sorry! It's my job, ma’am. I mean y/n, I'm so sorry!” Shigaraki rambled.
You laughed a little “it’s alright, Tomura. You don't have to apologize for anything, ” you assured him.
“Thank you y/n, ” he said, getting right to work.
Wrappers and bottles were thrown away and recycled; what a good boy saving the earth. For once, he took his time, no longer scared of you but still self-conscious when he bent down. Maybe he should ask you for a new uniform.
“I’ll be right back, ” you said, “you're doing a great job Tomura, ”
He smiled to himself as he worked until he broke a glass. He broke one of your glasses. Oh god, no. His face fell immediately. How could he let this happen? He was doing such a good job, but he...he let you down. This was it. He was fired, and he knew it. He’d never see you again. Never hear your laugh or watch you furrow your eyebrows as you wrote. He couldn't face you. He ran to his room, already beginning to pack his things.
You rushed towards your office at the sound. What happened? Was tomura hurt? Your mind raced as you ran back. What if Tomura stepped in the broken glass? Or it cut him? You'd feel guilty forever. You slammed open the door, but he had already left. You looked in all the rooms of the floor you were currently on to no avail.
“Hey um, you, ” you called to one of the butlers standing in the hall.
“Yes, madam?”
“Could you tell me where Tomura is? Light blue hair, red eyes?” you asked.
“Yes, he ran off to his room. He looked pretty spooked, ” he replied.
You sighed in relief, “thank you, could you fetch him for me?”
“Of course, ” he nodded, walking off.
You sat impatiently in your office, waiting for him. You checked to see what had broken. Oh, the vase your ex-mother-in-law gave you. You'd have to thank him later. He stumbled into your office, crying quietly. He was shaking as he walked up to your desk, barely keeping his balance.
“I'm so sorry, ” he whimpered, “I didn't mean to, I just was cleaning, and it slipped, and I'm so sorry I messed up. I'm already halfway done packing my things. It's ok you don't have to say anything, ”
“It’s okay, ” you soothed, “I know you didn't mean to. I'm not firing you, Tomura. It's alright, ”
“I know I- what?” he stuttered, “you're not firing me?”
“Of course not. It was a harmless mistake. I've meant to get rid of it for a while anyway, ” you said, “but you still broke the glass, and I think you can make it up to me. Would that be ok?”
He nodded with tears still in his eyes, “I’ll do anything, ”
You took his hand and led him over to your desk. You sat down and patted your lap.
“Come sit, ” you said.
He sat in your lap hesitantly, not putting his full weight on you. You pulled him all the way into your lap.
“Dont be shy, ” you said.
You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder.
“Tomura, why don't you like me?” You asked, “you're always so distant. Can you tell me what I did? I won't be mad, ”
“What do you mean?” he asked, head whipping around to face you.
“You never talk to me. You clean so fast that I barely see you for more than five minutes, ” you explained.
You sighed and stroked his cheek, “Tomura, I like you. I like you a lot. I’d never hurt you, or yell at you, or fire you. You're so special to me. The only reason I have you clean my office is so I can see you. You're the best part of my day. I have a lot of expensive things. Jewelry, clothes, cars, but none of them are as valuable as you, ”
“I don't hate you, I promise! I just get so nervous cause you're so pretty and successful, and you probably think I'm pathetic because this is all I'm good for. I'm just a maid, and you're such a powerful woman. I just didn't want to fuck u- I'm so sorry!” he stuttered.
“Tomura, you don't have to apologize for saying fuck. Do you have any idea what I screamed at my last business meeting? It was much worse than fuck, ” you giggled.
He blushed, “thank you. What I'm trying to say is that I really like you, but I get nervous because I might mess everything up, ”
You pecked him on the cheek, “you won't mess anything up, I promise. I feel the same way. How would you like to become my um personal assistant? You could hang out with me all day, pay is good, you won't really have to do any work, ”
“I- I’d love that so much y/n, ” he beamed.
“Yeah? Alright then, but um, I like your uniform as is, ” you teased.
He blushed, covering his face. You chuckled again, leaning down to kiss up and down his neck.
“What do you think about your pretty uniform, sweetie?” you whispered, “do you like it?”
“Yes, ” he whispered back.
“Repeat after me, Tomu: yes, mistress, ” you said, looking into his bright red eyes.
His pupils dilated as he finally whispered out, “yes, mistress,”
You smashed your lips onto his as he groaned. This was his fantasy. He'd lie in bed thinking about his boss’s mistress’s lips on his. Even if it wasn't sexual, he always craved your soft sweet lips. The way you were rubbing your hands up and down his thighs, pushing the hem of his dress higher and higher, made him squirm.
“Mistress, ” he moaned, “mistress please, I want you, ”
“Yeah? You want me? You want your mistress?” you cooed.
“Yes!” he cried, “yes, mistress!”
You shoved him out of your lap and bent him over the desk. You flipped up his skirt and groaned when you saw his panties. They hugged his butt so perfectly. They stopped just under his waist, and we're swallowed up by his ass like a thong.
“Fuck, ” you groaned, “remember that glass you broke, pet?”
He cringed a little at the memory but nodded, “yes, mistress, ”
“Good boy, ” you cooed, “I'm not mad at you, sweetie, no no no, but I’d still like to punish you. Although I think you'll like what I'm going to do to you, ”
“What are you going to do to me, mistress?” he said, looking back at you while bent over your desk.
It was impeccably neat, thanks to his hard work. But, unfortunately, that desk wouldn't remain clean for long.
“I'm gonna spank you, ok, sweetie?” you said, “let me know if it's too much, ”
He nodded, “ok, mistress,”
You brought your hand down, slapping his ass, watching as he gasped but bucked into your hand. Pain and pleasure couldn't be told apart when you spanked him like that. It should hurt. He should be mad, try and get away from the pain you were inflicting on him. But he loved it. He wanted your hands everywhere; it didn't matter if they were tearing him apart or providing unbelievable pleasure. He wanted you. He wanted whatever you gave him. You were perfect. You were everything, and every touch was perfect.
“Mistress, ” he moaned, “more, harder mistress, ”
You spanked him again, this one really stung, and he loved it. All he could do was moan, drool pudding on your desk. Two spanks, and he was gone, so sensitive in the most amazing ways.
“I'm gonna fuck you like an animal Tomura Shigaraki, ” you said, raking your nails down his back, “I hope you're ready, ”
He moaned, “yes, I'm ready. I'm ready, mistress. I want you to touch me. Please don't be gentle, ”
“Oh, I didn't plan on it, sweetie, ” you whispered, spanking him again.
He groaned, thrusting desperately against the air.
“Aw, is my little pet needy?” you cooed, “do you want to feel good, Tomu?”
“Yes, ” he whimpered, “yes please, mistress, ”
“Well, ” you drawled, “since you've been such a good boy for me, I don't see why not, ”
He groaned at the praise, “yes, mistress. I'm a good boy. I'll be your good boy, ”
You reached into a drawer under the desk and pulled out a bottle of lube and a dildo.
“I’ll have to get a strap for this soon and fuck you properly with it, ” you chuckled, “remind me, will you?”
His breath caught in his throat as he saw what you pulled out. Holy fuck, he wanted that inside him immediately. He watched you lather the lube onto your fingers, had you kept your nails short just for this? It wasn't like you had to use your fingers to get yourself off. You could buy as many vibrators as you wanted and get laid whenever you pleased. Had you been fantasizing about him? He was interrupted by a finger circling dangerously close to his hole.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“We haven't even gotten started, Tomura, ” you cooed.
You pushed in slowly, letting him savor this new feeling. You got deeper end deeper, starting to thrust and curl it. It felt amazing, but this was just a warm-up. You added another finger at a sluggish pace, moving them lazily as he finally started to acclimate. Relaxing, he moaned and groaned for you, letting everything else go.
“That's my good boy, ” you muttered more to yourself than him.
He looked back at you with a beautiful expression. His eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth was hanging open as he panted like he was in heat.
“Mistress, ” he slurred, “I'm ready for more, ”
“Yeah? You ready for another finger? ” you asked.
“Want the toy, please, mistress. I'm ready, ” he moaned as you curled your fingers.
“Honey, you need to wait a while longer, okay? I don't want it to hurt, ” you soothed.
“No, I want it!” he snapped.
His eyes immediately filled with fear and yours with anger.
“What did you just say to me, ” you whispered menacingly.
“I'm sorry, ” he whimpered.
You spanked him five times in a row, hard. He cried out, tears dripping down his face. After you were done, you pulled him into your lap. He was still sniffling as you held him.
“You can't talk to me like that, Tomura, ” you said.
“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.
“It’s alright, honey, ” you said, stroking his hair, “everyone makes mistakes, ”
“You're not mad anymore, mistress?” he asked.
“I wasn't mad in the first place, Tomura. I could never get mad at you. But you can't act out like that. You need to be my good boy, remember?” you said.
“I remember, ” he nodded, “if I'm a good boy, can you still use the toy on me? Pretty please?”
“of course, why don't you clean up the desk, sweetie. You drooled all over it, Tomura, ” you said, holding back a laugh.
He blushed but got to work, and in no time, it was spotless.
“Ready to make it messy again, ” you whispered in his ear.
He kissed your neck, “yes, mistress, ”
“See, there's my good boy, ” you praised.
He hugged you, gripping your shirt in his hands. You held him tight. Even though the shirt was close to five hundred dollars, it didn't matter.
“I'm ready, ” he whispered, “for whatever you give me, ”
You let him lean over the desk again, prepping his hole with the original two fingers you had slipped in, adding a third, much to his delight.
“If you had been a good boy, I’d be fucking with my toy right now, ” you reminded him.
“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.
“It's alright, sweetie, this was a good lesson, ” you said, leaning down to kiss his neck.
He shivered; he loved how sweet your kisses were. You were such a kind mistress, and he swore to himself that he would be such a good boy for you. Only for you. You finally pulled out of him, which was a blessing and a curse. He felt so empty but knew he was bout to be filled to the brim. But to his surprise, the next thing to push into him was your tongue. You licked and sucked the sensitive area, listening to him whine and moan shamelessly.
He knew you had your office soundproofed; you had a relatively colorful vocabulary. He was panting, nails scratching down your desk. Your tongue was wet so warm, just so- oh fuck, so perfect. He loved how it felt to grind back on your face. The most powerful woman in the world was pleasuring him, loving him. What had he done to deserve something as wonderful as this? He was interrupted by a harsh slap on his ass.
“I asked you a question, Tomura. Are you ready for my toy?” you said.
“Yes, mistress, I'm ready, ” he nodded frantically.
You pumped two fingers into him a few times before making a show of lubing up the dildo. You ran your hand up and down it, squeezing and smearing the liquid around. You rubbed it up and down his asshole a couple of times before pressing gently. It slid in with ease. He was gasping, legs trembling from being stuffed full.
“Mistress, ” he gasped, “it's so good, ”
“Yeah? I'm glad, ” you laughed, “that was the goal. Would you like me to start moving it, sweetie?”
He nodded frantically, “yes, yes mistress, I want it, ”
You thrusted slowly, dragging it in and out of him. He was moaning shamelessly, wanting you to see to hear to taste to smell to touch every part of him. He trusted you with life. You sped up, and Tomura’s eyes rolled back; he bucked against your hand. He was losing it now, blabbering mindlessly about how good it felt, how pretty you are, and that he'd always be a good boy.
“You're taking it so well, sweetie, ” you praised, “cum whenever you need to. There's no rush, ”
He nodded even though he couldn't really understand what you were saying. He felt himself getting sucked deeper and deeper into a pit of absolute bliss. Then, just as he was about to slip away, the door opened.
“Miss y/n I-” your representative stuttered.
“I'm busy right now. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll notify you when I'm free, ” you smiled calmly.
Meanwhile, Tomura was the absolute opposite of calm as he fought his orgasm. He didn't want a stranger to see him cum like this! But that just served to push him deeper into his pleasure. The deeper the toy fucked him, the more he lost it until he cried out.
“Mistress! I'm c-cumming!” he moaned.
Cum shot out of his cock, splattering on the clean floor. He was panting. He had just came in front of a stranger and loved every second of it.
“Aww, look at the mess you made, honey, ” you cooed, “such a messy boy, ”
You pulled him into your lap.
“As I said, I'll contact you when I'm free, ” you said, looking at your wide-eyed representative.
He stood there in shock.
You cleared your throat, “Um, are you gonna stare or just...?”
“I'm so sorry I’ll be going sorry to interrupt, ” he stammered.
You laughed a little, looking down at Shigaraki.
“Well, someone had fun, ” you teased.
He whined in embarrassment and hid his head in your chest. You laughed again and stroked his hair. You two sat there the rest of the day, getting absolutely no work done.
#mha shiggy#shigaraki smut#shigaraki fluff#mha shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tenko#tomura shiragaki#shigaraki tomura#tomura smut#tenko smut#tomura x reader#mha tomura#tomura imagine
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Fire Meet Gasoline: And I Can Barely Breathe
Part 5. :)
Masterlist
Let’s see — summary and warnings: This starts off fluffy, gets smutty like the video, then gets scary. Mention of food. I think all else is well. Oh! Ezra curses.
I am so sorry this has been so slow.
The quiet rumble of the truck was soothing. You leaned into Ezra, his arm warm and safe around you.
“Do I turn here?” He asked, as the rutted track divided.
“No, that leads to an old farm gate next to the road. Keep going up…we’re almost there.”
There was at the top of the rise. The sunset, peach pink and a hint of purple lay like an abandoned silk veil across the sky. He put the truck in park, and you both stared at the colors for a little bit. It had been a wonderful day, strange, but wonderful. But a tension had been building. Ezra’s cheekiness and gentle seductions had gone to a line. Here, and no more. Not unless you say so.
And he was waiting for you to say so. And you were waiting to gather the courage to say yes.
Yes, come sleep with me. Yes, be my lover. Yes, stay the night. Yes, you never have to leave.
“Let’s go home before we lose too much light,” You say. And then, carefully, “Would you like to stay?” You hold your breath.
“For dinner? I could go pick up something…”
“For breakfast?” You finally look back up at him.
The last of the sun caught the small shards of gold in his eyes. The smile he gives you is somewhere between delighted and tender, as is the kiss he places on your lips.
“You could drive a little slower, Ezra,” You say a moment later, as he speeds down the rise and makes the turn towards your house.
“Nope,” he says, all mischief, though he does take you to the mailbox to check your mail.
“Go slow up the drive, OK?” Your hand is on his arm, and you are looking. Were those tracks there before? Probably Ezra’s truck, right?
He parks and you walk to the door, your excitement tempered by habit. Check the door to make sure it is locked before you unlock it, stop for a second to listen to the silence of the house.
Ezra locks the door behind you both. “You have a choice, my pearl.”
“Hmm?” Did you leave the kitchen light on when you left? Is that the peg where you left your coat?
His arms slip around you, pulling you tight to him. “The bed, or the door?”
You look up, distracted. “Huh?”
That grin of mischief is back and he whirls you around, caging you against the metal of the door, kissing you soundly. Oh. You lose yourself in the moment, the way he kisses you. His lips are warm velvet, his tongue gentle but insistent.
You pull away and drop under his arm, running up the stairs.
“Always wanting me to chase you?”
“Am I not worth it?” You throw back. The windows in your room are open, the curtains blowing in the last warm breath of day. You stand in front of one, breathing on the combination of smells. Dirt. Dead leaves. Cut grass. The sweetness that only fresh air has.
“Absolutely worth it, my star,” he says, and you turn into his arms, and kiss him with everything you have. You pull him to the bed and fall back onto it, dragging him with you.
There is something about the weight of a man on top of you, even when he’s holding himself up a little. The scent of his skin at the crook of his neck. The old softness, here, there, on his throat. You’re halfway between wanting to rip his pants off and get him to bury himself inside you and savoring the moment. The patches of skin where he never needs to shave. (It’s where the angels kissed you, because you were so sweet and so perfect,” you whisper. He chuckles softly. “I think you mean devils, sweetheart.”). How dark with lust and need his eyes are. How suddenly it’s his hands that are more eloquent than his voice. You shimmy out of your clothes until you are just in your bra and underwear, and he is far too dressed.
If you hadn’t already fallen desperately in love, you would be now.
Oh God. Do you really love him, or is it the moment? Is it him kneeling to pull off his shirt and throw it aside, is it him letting you roll him on his back so you can kiss the tall bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin, down his chest and the arch of his ribs, following the trail of hair from his navel to the low band of his jeans.
Is it how he looks ar you, as you hover over the bulge in his jeans, giving him a teasing smile as he stares at you in awe and desperation.
Is it the little sound he makes in the back of his throat when you kiss along the zipper before reaching up and popping the button, kissing the skin as you carefully pull down the zipper. He stops you before you get more than halfway. “You will be the death of me.”
You straddle him and grin down at him. His hands are kneading your thighs. “I hope not. I am getting to really enjoy having you around.” You stroke his stomach with one hand and undo you bra with the other, slowly easing it off one shoulder than the next before throwing it to the side. Your free hand joins the other on his chest and slides up, as you drag your chest over his skin, reveling in how he feels, until his hand buries itself into your hair to pull you in for a kiss.
He rolls you over onto your back, his kisses turning into gentle nips on your chin, your neck, working his way down until his fingers work off your panties and his tounge is working magic without words at your core, licking and sucking and drawing sounds you didn’t know you could make, you arch off the bed and try, so hard, to be quiet, but he’s having none of that. By the time he comes back to give you kisses that taste like you, you’re so feral that you barely can think as you pull at his jeans. He kicks them off as he opens the condom, and you kiss his neck, his shoulders, pulling at him when he finally turns and pins you on the bed again.
He slides inside like he was made for you. The right key for the lock. Every thrust feels like home, every stroke ignites something inside of you, your arms and legs wrapped tight around him, your face in his neck, you feel so good, so whole, that you only hold him tighter when you come undone, chanting his name like a prayer over, and over.
A few more thrusts and he comes, his head thrown back, silent as if the experience had stolen all words and sound from him.
A little while later, laying face to face, you say, “I never knew you could be so quiet.”
His smile is sweet, a little sleepy, as he pushes some hair from your face. “There are very, very few things more important than words. You are one of them, my treasure.”
You kiss his nose to distract herself from the weight of his words, which were practically a declaration of love. “So are you.”
Eventually, though, dark had fallen, and you got up you motion sensing night light lit up, showed you where the clothes were.
“What are you doing, treasure?” Sleepiness laced his voice, and it makes you smile, how soft he sounds.
You pull up your jeans and sit on the edge of the bed. “Time to make dinner, sweetheart.”
He starts to rise. “I’ll come help.” You push him back down gently.
“No. Not tonight. It’s easy…steaks and little potatoes. Nothing fancy. I’ll call you when it’s closer to done.”
“You sure? I like helping…but the pull of this warm bed…” He makes a half hearted attempt to grab you and pull you back down, and you laugh and head for the door. You stop there, looking at him in the soft yellow of the night light. It makes him look candlelit and gentle, his lips curved into a smile, the shadowy edges of his eyelashes. You are overwhelmed with the softness of what you feel, how good and content you feel.
“Come back to bed,”. He whispers softly, without opening his eyes. “Surely we can get a pizza out here, if we order now we will have an hour to do much more pleasant things…”
“Just enjoying the view.” You push off down the hallway, your motion sensing lights blinking on as you go down the stairs and to the kitchen. Can I make brownies and put them on to cook while we eat? Do I even have any mix…it’s probably out of date. Does that even matter? Do mixes really go bad?
Your eyes coast over the kitchen out of habit more than worry. If an axe murderer was lurking, they would have had amble opportunity to take both you and Ezra out.
The bar wasn’t on the cellar door.
You stop.
The bar. Was not. On the cellar. Door.
You back up, and turn and go to the front.
The bar wasn’t on the front door, either, but that made sense…Ezra had distracted you. But you clearly remembered him locking the deadbolt, and it wasn’t locked, not any more.
“Ezra,”. You try and say, your mouth suddenly dry. You turn and stumble back up the stairs. “Ezra?”
Ezra is at the door to your bedroom, pulling on his jeans, his tee shirt between his teeth. He zips up and grabs the offending fabric out of his mouth, not even checking to make sure it’s right side out as he pulls it over his head. “Sweetheart, what…?”
You stand in front of him, hugging yourself. “Someone was here,” his hands come down to your upper arms, and you realize that you are shaking. “Maybe still? But they were. The bar’s not on the cellar and front door…the dead bolt’s not locked. You locked it, yeah?”
He nods. “I did. Do you have any type of weapon?”
You shake your head as he leads you back into the bedroom. You shut the windows while he looks in the closet, in the bathroom, then unplugs the lamp from the table, stripping it of bulb and shade, wrapping the cord almost absently around the base as he thinks. He hands it to you. “Stay here. Lock the door.” He leans to whisper very, very softly kin your ear. “Do not let me in unless I use the word sunset.” He pulls away, looks in her eyes.
“I should go with you, I know this place…”
“Trust me. You don’t want to.” And there is something there, in the back of his eyes.
“Ok.”
You clutch the lamp, and go and wait by the window, standing in the shadows, studying the outside, listening for anything.
Ezra, you think, will start with the other bedroom on this floor. The other, tiny bathroom. The small “craft” room that could be a third bedroom in a pinch if you didn’t mind crawling over a tiny bed to get to your dresser.
She was right.
Ezra had not put back on his shoes. He let the lesser angel take over, and it was almost gleeful. If I catch that bastard I’ll beat him into a pulp and cite the castle doctrine. No one would argue a man defending his woman in her own home, right?
He knew better. That it was much more complicated than that. But he wanted to beat someone senseless for putting that fear in your eyes. Making you live in a house where you have bars on the doors and windows, motion sensing lights illuminating every step, doors between levels…
He kept an eye on the rooms ahead, looking to see if someone else’s movement would trigger a light. He had his knife in his hand, a Swiss Army knife that looked innocent but was not, and he forced himself not to hold it so tight, to keep loose and ready.
The stairs were too fucking noisy.
Library. Empty. Front door — he put the bar on, clicked the deadbolt back into place. He didn’t want them to be able to run. Oh, no.
He worked his way around, listening, looking, until he was in the kitchen. He checked everything — took the bar off the back door to take a look out, breath held in case he was about to get hit — and saw a filthy foot print, fresh dirt on the foot scraper. He filed that away and locked back up.
All that was left was the cellar. He traded the knife for a cast iron skillet. Took a deep breath. Started down.
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Another Life - Chapter 24
Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows
Pairing: Vladislav x Reader
Series Rating: E
Word Count: 3187
Chapter Summary: It’s what we’ve been waiting for, folks. They finally do it.
A/N: Hey, I’m really sorry about the delay. COVID messed up my thesis AGAIN so I’ve been playing catch up at school. I’ll try to be more consistent. As always, this is also on AO3.
You picked at your plate of chips while Vladislav stared intently at you. When insisted on taking you out to dinner despite the fact that he couldn’t eat, you insisted on somewhere simple and affordable, that he wouldn’t hate being. So, you were eating chips at The Big Kumara. If you thought being there would be less awkward than at a fancy restaurant, you were mistaken. It was just plain odd eating while you were being stared down.
But, if you were going to be dating Vladislav, you supposed you should try to get used to it.
“Thanks,” you said again, gesturing to the food in front of you.
He smiled. “They’re just chips.”
You ate another.
“So, the last time you and the guys brought me here, you mentioned you knew the owner,” you began.
“Yes.”
“And when we came in just now, the bouncer said we were ‘welcome.’”
Vladislav grinned, obviously anticipating what you were building to.
You continued, “This is a vampire bar, isn’t it?”
The second the words left your lips, you felt like an idiot. A vampire bar? What the hell was a vampire bar? Why would vampires even need a bar? They didn’t eat or drink.
“It is, yes.”
Oh.
“Why?”
His eyebrows turned down. “Why what?”
“Why would vampires want a bar?”
He shrugged. “To lure in victims.”
You glanced around the bar. You and Vladislav were the only two people there. “And how often does that work out?”
“Every now and then.”
So, not often.
“How many vampires are there? Around here?”
“80 or so around Wellington, I think.”
You shuddered at the thought. How did it not seem like people were going missing all the time?
“Is that normal?”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It just seems like a lot.”
“Not really,” he said. “That’s pretty typical for a city this size.”
That alarmed you. You’d thought vampires were much more rare than that. A part of you was willing to believe that the majority of Wellington’s vampires lived with you. 80 out of the entire population of the city wasn’t a lot really, technically. But how many people must they be eating? How often must they be eating? And the fact that it wasn’t a lot more than usual, that everywhere was like this… And that was just the vampires. There were werewolves, witches, all manner of creatures out there. It was amazing anyone survived long enough to die of old age.
“Y/N?” Vladislav prompted, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’re thinking pretty loudly.”
You returned his smile. “Sorry.”
“I know it seems like a lot, but you weren’t even aware of vampires before moving in with us. We tend to keep a low profile, as a species.”
“I suppose so,” you conceded with a small laugh. He was right, of course. People didn’t just disappear off the streets, not at a higher rate than normal, anyway. Those 80 vampires hadn’t affected your life at all, nor had they affected the lives of most people, it seemed.
Apparently, this was just how the world was.
You went back to eating your fries.
~
Dawn was out of town visiting a relative, so you finally had a chance to do the stupid thing she wouldn’t want you to. It was so stupid, in fact, that you hadn’t even broached the topic with her, knowing how she’d react.
And she’d be right. You shouldn’t do it.
You finished applying your makeup, ready to go out on the town.
Like an idiot.
The disappearances had been slowing, but they certainly hadn’t stopped. Your brain morbidly supplied the suggestion that the disappearances were slowing because there weren’t many women left who matched the description of those missing.
You feared you were one of the last.
All the more reason for you not to go out.
You didn’t know why you were. It’s not like you had a death wish. At least, you thought you didn’t.
Maybe you did.
You grabbed your purse and headed out.
~
You and Vladislav returned home, closing the front door behind you. You turned to look up at him. This part was weird. Generally on a first and second date, and whatever your make out session at Boogie Wonderland could be classified, the members went home separately. It was always abundantly clear what would happen next. Unless someone was invited in, you went to bed alone. And if someone was invited in, that sent a pretty clear message, as well.
The established dating protocols really fell apart when you were flatting with your date.
“So…” you began, desperately hoping he would take over, as you had no idea how to finish.
He obliged. “Let’s go upstairs.”
You faltered. Again, with the lack of clarity. Each of your individual bedrooms were upstairs. He might mean ‘Let’s each go up to our own bedrooms alone.’
But he might not.
He kissed you goodnight after your first date. He kissed you goodnight after you’d walked home from Boogie Wonderland. He wasn’t kissing you goodnight now. Instead, he was giving you an almost predatory smile.
“Your room or mine?” he asked.
Oh. That was clearer.
Is this what you wanted, though? Obviously you were attracted to him. (Very obviously.) But this was only your second date. Well, it could count as a third date if you were being generous. And people definitely hooked up on third dates. That was a whole thing.
You were wearing matching underwear. You’d shaved. Your bedroom was even clean.
Vladislav brought his hand up to rest on your hip, and you suddenly couldn’t think of a reason not to go for it.
“My room,” you said, quickly weighing the benefits of your bed against the drawbacks of his coffin.
And then he was taking your hand, leading you upstairs to your bedroom, guiding you like you were a guest in your own home. He tugged you along, and you had to half jog to keep up with him as he rapidly climbed the stairs.
You swung the bedroom door shut behind you, and it slammed with a loud thud you had no doubt could be heard throughout the house. You barely had time to wonder who of you flatmates were currently home before Vladislav had you pushed up against the door, his lips on yours.
You leaned into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his hands roaming over your clothes before you gently pushed him away.
“Wait a sec?” you said, gesturing over the bathroom door.
He nodded and stepped back, letting you walk into the bathroom, shedding your bag and jacket and kicking off your shoes as you went. You absently pulled the door closed as you entered, but it didn’t latch, leaving a small crack in the doorway. That was fine; you’d just wanted to freshen up.
You wiped any smudged makeup from under your eyes as you swished some mouthwash around. Not that it really mattered. He’d already kissed you with chips on your breath. You spit into the sink and faced your reflection in the mirror, brushing your fingers through your hair in an attempt to re-tame it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him push open the door and step into the bathroom. You managed to suppress an eye roll. He really wasn’t big on boundaries, was he?
Eyes still locked on your own reflection, you said, “It’s been about 60 seconds. Not very patient, are we?”
“You make me very impatient.”
You gasped and jumped in surprise. His voice had come from directly behind you. Being a vampire, though, he wasn’t reflected in the mirror, so you’d had no idea how close he was until he spoke.
“Relax,” he said, bringing his hands up to your hips. “Don’t turn around,” he added as you began to pivot. “Keep looking in the mirror.”
Vladislav bent his head down to kiss the side of your neck. You could just make out his dark form in your peripheral vision, and it took all your willpower to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. An excited chill ran through your body as you gazed into the mirror. You couldn’t see Vladislav, but you could see the evidence of him. The fabric of your shirt was rumpled where his hands rested. Your hair was mussed where he had brushed it out of his way. Your face was flushed already.
Vladislav’s hands lifted from your hips, and you bit the inside of your lower lip in anticipation, bracing your hands against the counter. You couldn’t see his hands and didn’t know what to expect from him until you felt his hands come to rest on your chest.
Your breath hitched when you felt his breath on your ear. “Is this okay?”
You nodded, unable to speak, and his hands began moving, groping. His hands squeezed your chest firmly, strongly, just shy of painful. You couldn’t hide the small moan that escaped your lips. His hands meandered down your body, exploring its curves until they once again reached your hips. His left hand dipped under your shirt, lightly trailing back up your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your bare skin, and settling back on your chest, kneading the flesh there. His right hand stayed lower, deftly unfastening your pants.
“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he said. His hand came up to your face and gently guided it toward the mirror.
Your eyes were wide, pupils blown. Your chest heaved with your deep breathing. You could see the outline of his moving hand under your top, but his other movements remained a mystery. That is, until you felt his hand slide into your pants, reaching downwards until he reached the spot he was looking for. He slid a digit between your folds and you gently gasped at the intimate movement.
“Wet already?” he whispered into your ear. You could hear the teasing smile in his voice.
You wanted to say something clever. Witty. Something that could knock him down a peg. Raise you up a peg. Anything to level the playing field. Instead, you moaned.
Damn him.
“That’s what I thought.” He sounded even smugger than before.
You wondered if there was some sort of vampire-related reason you were so into this so fast. Barely anything had happened yet and you were practically a puddle. You considered asking if this was just a vampire thing. You didn’t, though, for fear of insulting him if the answer was yes, or being humiliated if the answer was no.
A wide finger slipped inside you, altogether halting your train of thought, and you bit your lip to keep from making a pathetic sound. Although you couldn’t see Vladislav in the mirror, he could see you, and brought his other hand from under your shirt to gently pull your lower lip from your teeth.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he gently chided as he began working his finger in and out of you.
You ground your hips against his hand, hyperaware of the cool metal of the ring of his pinky finger pressed against the junction of your thigh. He added a second finger to his ministrations, and you startled momentarily, almost looking down instead of ahead into the mirror. But if your gaze faltered, neither of you noticed.
Vladislav’s chest was pressed against your back, effectively pinning you against the sink. His hair fell forward, brushing against the nape of your neck, and the pendants of the two long necklaces he wore dug almost painfully into your shoulder blade. You could feel his hard cock pressed firmly against your ass as you ground your hips. The glimpses of him you caught out of the corner of your eye- his hair, his nose, his shirtsleeve- were beginning to drive you mad, when he pulled away all at once.
His fingers were gone and so was his presence at your back.
Careful to keep your eyes on the mirror, you asked in a voice breathier than you would have liked, “Vladislav?”
He didn’t answer. At least, not vocally. Instead, you felt his hand at your hips, thumbs dipping into the waistband of your pants. In one swift move, he pulled your pants down to your ankles, and a shiver ran up your now bare legs as the room’s cool air hit them. His hands slowly trailed up the outside of your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until he reached your underwear.
“Do you want me to take these off?” he asked.
That stopped you short. Why would he ask that? Of course you wanted him to take them off. How else were you supposed to proceed? Then you realized that, obviously, that was his way of asking if you still wanted to proceed. He was checking in to make sure you wanted this.
You nodded rapidly, repeatedly, before breathlessly managing a “yes.”
Your underwear was removed and you briefly felt foolish and mildly unattractive, standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your top. Vladislav apparently did not share those doubts about your appeal, however, as you suddenly felt him pressed between your thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him unfasten his pants.
His right hand came up to your sternum, pulling you against him. His left, presumably, was being used to position himself, because you felt the head of his cock slowly press into you.
“Oh fuck,” you exhaled as he slid himself fully into you. His breath was ragged and irregular in your ear, morphing into a deep but quiet moan when he was fully sheathed inside you. That was a sound you could certainly get used to.
You both remained still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation. You felt pleasantly full, stretched, though not to the point of pain. The heat low in your belly demanded movement, friction, but you were pinned between his body and the sink, unable to do much more than squirm.
Before you could say anything, though, Vladislav oh so slowly, teasingly, pulled out, leaving just the head inside of you, before pushing ing back in, only slightly faster. You let out a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, from high in your throat, as he repeated the motion. As he began to rhythmically thrust in and out of you, you rocked your hips back to meet his, both fucking one another against the bathroom sink.
His hands were everywhere, it seemed, a frenzy of motion, on your stomach, your hips, your arms, taking in everything they could, before he returned to your chest. He squeezed, pinching and twisting your nipples through your shirt, pulling whining moans from your throat. With a particularly rough thrust, Vladislav threw your body forwards, and you braced your hands against the mirror to stop yourself from colliding into it. You moaned loudly as he repeated the harsh movement. Whether spurred by your vocalizations or the by the sensations involved, you didn’t know, but he continued with this aggressive pace, and you increased your own thrusting in kind.
Your head was spinning from the delicious feeling of him stretching you open, hitting just too hard, just too deep. The glass of the mirror felt almost like ice under your heated hands. The porcelain of the sink would likely leave bruises on your thighs from where you were being pushed into it on each of his thrusts. You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt his lips brush against your neck.
“Vladislav!” you’d meant it to be a whisper, but it had come out just shy of a shout.
Your own moans, his panting breath punctuated by masculine grunts, the wet sound of your flesh slapping harshly together, the metallic link of his necklaces against one another, the rustle of your shirts against one another… it was so much, almost too much, dizzying.
“Fuck, fuck…” he breathed.
You were close, so close. You could tell he was getting there too. He was picking up speed, losing rhythm.
“Vlad- I-“ you struggled to find words. Your brain felt like mush.
Thankfully, though, he either understood or predicted your request, because he brought a hand down to where you most needed it, rubbing your clit in firm but gentle circles. You feel yourself clench around him hard as you orgasmed, feeling the tingling in your abdomen, your back, spreading upwards and throughout your body until you felt like nothing so much as a pulsation of warmth, of static, of pleasure. He could tell, you realized, as he chuckled deeply in your ear, and you gasped as he followed, coming hard, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan.
As his movements slowed, you finally let yourself fall forward onto the mirror, your forehead leaning on the surface. Your breath left small puffs on condensation on the glass as you tried to regulate your breathing. Vladislav relaxed on top of you, not weighing you down, but leaning against you. You couldn’t quite make out his form where his head rested on your shoulder, but you felt his breath through your shirt.
You stood there in a silence that seemed deafening compared to the noise that had come before, savoring the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back, his softening member still resting inside of you.
Eventually, though, he pulled slowly out of you, and you whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty. He took a step back, and you pushed yourself off of the mirror, noting the smudges now decorating the smooth surface.
You turned to face him, resting your bare ass against the sink as he tucks himself into his pants. You felt spent, physically and emotionally, and very much in need of a good night’s sleep, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips when you caught sight of the wicked grin he’s throwing at you.
“What?” you asked as you bend forward, pulling up your pants. You felt suddenly shy for someone who was just railed to a very intense orgasm.
He shrugged, still smiling. “Nothing, really. You just seemed like you enjoyed yourself quite a bit.”
You considered pointing out that egotistical wasn’t a good look on him, that he also seemed to be having a pretty good time, or that insinuating that he was a good lay actually detracted from how good a lay he was.
Instead, you let him have this one, saying, “Yes, I did.”
“Me too.”
He surged forward, pulling you into a rough kiss, hardly giving you any time to reciprocate before pulling away just as quickly.
“Come to bed with me now?” he asked, the suggestion loaded with innuendo.
You raised an eyebrow, your earlier fatigue fading at his tone, and headed towards your bed, trusting that he’d follow.
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Falling
Author’s Note: Hi guys! Whew, this was a journey! Over 6k words and I am exhausted! It’s been through like ten name changes and five rewrites and I still think it sucks ass but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! x
Summary: You made the mistake of falling for a guy. He broke your heart. Moving on was the easiest thing in the world - until it wasn’t.
Word Count: 6.2k
Your breathing was heavy, ragged as lips trailed across your skin and sucked bruises on your ribs. You gasped as his fingers trailed across your chest, gathering you in his arms when he crawled back up to your lips and crashed into you like a wave breaking against a shore.
You were happy.
So happy.
Your heart swelling with joy as he laced his hands in yours and whispered quiet promises against your lips.
You didn’t know if it was light or dark. Morning or night. All you knew was the fire flooding your veins and the electricity setting your nerves alight.
The ‘I love yous’ and the promises of forever.
And then it all came crashing down.
*three months later*
Lights blared bright in your eyes, music so loud it stung your ears. Your hands were sweaty, wrapped around a beer bottle you’d held for so long it was warm and frothy. But it was the only thing keeping you grounded as you tossed your hair on the dancefloor and moved through the crowd of writhing bodies.
“You know how much trouble we’re in, right?”
You swung around, arms in the air and sight tainted by the haze of vodka. “Stop being such a buzzkill Houdini! Twat isn’t back till Tuesday.”
“Houdini? That’s a new one,” Harry raised an eyebrow and ignored your swipe at his brother, eyeing you warily as you stumbled over his foot. “Maybe cool it with the shots now?”
You cackled, pink and blue strobe lights slicing through your best friend’s body as you twisted and curved in time to the music. “Maybe cool it with the mothering, Harriet.”
“I’m only mothering you because you threw an illegal party in my brother’s house.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, finally stopping dancing when he gave you the ‘I’m serious, you’re an idiot’ look he’d perfected the first time you’d thrown a party. Except that time, it had been in your own house, and not your secret ex…whatever’s.
“Come on, like goodie-two-shoes-Tommy is ever gonna know.”
“He might, Y/n,” Harry shrugged, widening his arms “how are you planning on hiding the fact that three hundred people trashed his house?”
“By not telling him. Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this,” you grinned, moving your hips and dragging him back onto the dance floor “for one night your brother isn’t breathing down your neck, enjoy it and live a little! We can figure the rest out in the morning.”
He started to protest, pushing against your hands, but you strengthened your grip and pulled him into the crowd, ignoring the grunts from the people nearby. You loved Harry, you really did, you’d grown up with his annoying-as-fuck tendency to be a tattle tale, put up with the refusal to go out on a school night for years, and until you’d gotten involved with Tom you’d never questioned it.
But one night was all it took for everything you thought you’d known about your best friend’s brother to be completely shattered. And since then? Well, you didn’t exactly give a shit someone had smashed his Rolex tonight.
“You realise you could just admit the break-up upset you, right?” Harry laughed as you forced him to move “you don’t need to go full on Wild Child instead of talking about your emotions.”
“It was one night, there wasn’t a break-up, and your brother can get fucked,” you replied a little too quickly, wishing you were talking about anything else.
“I’m just saying, there are healthier ways to deal with getting your heart broken than destroying his house.”
You snorted and took a sip of your beer, almost gagging at the staleness. “The bloke already hates me, what’s a little property damage between enemies?”
“About £50,000 worth of legal fees.”
“Wow, you’re really bringing the heat tonight, aren’t you Holland?” you smirked, widening your eyes “almost like you learned from the best.”
“Yeah, Sam’s really good at one-liners,” he grinned in reply, and you punched his shoulder playfully.
Suddenly, you felt eyes on you, the unmistakable sensation of someone looking you over. You spun in a circle, zeroing in on every distracted party goer until you found the bright blue eyes burrowing under your skin and making you burn all over.
Nudging Harry, you pointed over his shoulder and forced him to turn around. “Hey, who’s that?”
“Err…I think his name’s Josh?” he gave you a funny look, like he couldn’t quite figure out the sudden change of topic. “He’s one of Sam’s mates from catering.”
“Is he single?”
Harry sighed at your smirk, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Jesus, Y/n, why would I know? If you’re so determined to get over Tom, go snog him or something.”
“For your information,” you grinned, starting to back away through the crowd “I’m completely over the heathen, but if it takes me snogging a cute guy to prove that to you, I guess I won’t complain.”
Harry had all but disappeared by the time you finished your sentence, but you knew he’d heard you when his middle finger shot up from somewhere in the middle of the heaving mass of partygoers, and you chuckled to yourself. You needed a distraction tonight, anything to not have to think about Tom and the trail of broken hearts he’d left in his wake three months ago.
Turning around, you were fully prepared to go and find Josh and put this whole mess behind you, when you slammed into a chest so hard you would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for strong arms pulling you back up.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, spotting the sandy blond hair and cocky smirk “actually, you know what? I totally did mean to do that.”
“Just like you totally meant to loudly shout your intentions to make out with me?” Josh raised an eyebrow, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Thank God for foundation.
“Obviously, how else would you have known?”
Before he could answer, you’d pulled him down to your height and slammed your lips against his, surprise jolting through your body when you realised he was actually a good kisser. You were just getting into it, letting your hands slide into his hair, when a loud shout brought the room to a standstill and silenced the music.
“What the FUCK is going on?”
You jerked away from Josh, you’d recognise that voice anywhere, and spun towards the kitchen table. Tom was on top of it, his face livid and full of thunder, his eyes searching the room for an explanation. “Well?”
You gulped, goosebumps erupting across your body as the realisation of what you’d done set in. But then you remembered, Tom wasn’t even meant to be back from filming for another three days - why the hell was he here?
“It’s just a party, man,” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Yes, I’m aware of what it is,” Tom replied drily, his eyes finally landing on you “and I know exactly who’s responsible for it.”
His words sent a chill down your spine, the eye contact more than you’d had in three months from him. It felt funny finally seeing him after all this time, like you’d found a missing piece to a puzzle you couldn’t finish, but the cold look he was giving you was barely any different to how you’d left him.
He was looking between you and Josh, his tongue pressed against his cheek, and for some inexplicable reason you felt guilty. Like you’d been caught doing something illegal instead of just exercising your right to kiss as many damn people you fancied.
Finally, Tom set his jaw and tore his eyes away from you, the loss leaving you empty.
His voice dropped dangerously. “All of you – get the fuck out of my house.”
***
A few days later, you were hanging your clothes out to dry when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pushed a peg into your mouth and dragged it out cack-handed, juggling the pile of washing and the box of clean clothes as you struggled to read the caller ID.
“Have you heard from him?” you asked earnestly into the phone, barely breathing as you waited for a response.
“Nice to talk to you too, cheery,” Harry grumbled, the sound of sleep clogging his voice.
“Are you seriously just waking up? It’s eleven o’clock!”
“Did you forget I was twenty-one yesterday?” he replied “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t in bed until six am.”
“Oh, right, yeah I saw those pictures.”
“Yeah so you’ll forgive me if I’m not completely awake yet.”
You ran a thumb over your lip, your eyes dropping to the pile of crinkled washing on the grass. You’d only meant to put it there for a second, but you’d forgotten how much it had rained last night and now the edges were stained with mud and your once clean bedsheets were stained green.
“Typical,” you muttered, trying to dust some of it off. Why did it always feel like this? Like when you were finally taking a step forward, something else was dragging you back two. It was only a minor thing, you could always just rewash them - but it wasn’t just the sheets, was it? Ever since…that night, you’d felt like you were walking through treacle, balancing on a knife’s edge you hadn’t seen before stepping into the unknown.
“What was that?” Harry asked, the sound of pots clanging in the background jerking you back to your conversation.
“Oh nothing, I just um, I just dropped some washing. Are you cooking?”
“Um…yeah, sure that sounds good – oh, Tom, hey.” Your best friend’s tone suddenly flipped like a switch, the audible gulp ringing through the handset. You barely had time to wonder why he was acting so cagey about cooking when a rugged voice began muttering in the background. You froze, your grip on your basket loosening as you stepped through the door.
You could barely hear what they were saying, but then Harry’s voice reappeared on the other end of the receiver, a slight nervous wobble creeping in. “Hey, err Y/n?”
“Yeah?” you replied, shaking off your shock and beginning to throw the ruined sheets back into the wash.
“Tom wants to talk to you.”
“Well tell him that-”
“He’s not an owl, Y/n,” Tom cut you off. “He doesn’t have to pass messages back and forth.”
Heat rose in your cheeks, frustration flowing through your veins as you balled your hands into fists and raked them through your hair. Somehow his voice was even more annoying than before. “Don’t quote Harry Potter at me, Thomas, especially when you’re just as guilty of doing it.”
“Doing what, exactly? You’re the one that trashed my house.”
“Passing messages through Harry! You didn’t exactly have the balls to tell me yourself you were running off to Colorado for three months.”
“Because you blocked my number!”
You sighed, eyes flicking towards the timer on the washing machine. It was true you’d blocked Tom’s number, but three months ago you’d been lying in his bed talking about how you felt and finally, finally admitting everything you’d kept bottled up since you were fourteen.
And then the next day he’d told you it was a mistake.
Went running off to America like a coward.
Leaving Harry to pick up the pieces and you to realise that everything you thought you could’ve had was pure fantasy.
So yes, you’d blocked his number. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t had a reason, and he had to know that. There was no way he could be that thick.
“What do you want, Tom?” you said at last, leaning against the machines. Maybe if you just let him say what he had to say this would all be over and you could go back to not giving a fuck.
Suddenly, the line clicked and the monotonous hum of the phone shutting down rang in your ear.
“What the…?” you trailed off, pulling the phone away from your ear to stare at it in shock. Had he…just called you…to argue with you…and then hung up on you?
Beside you, the door began to creak open and you jumped into the air, your phone flying across the room and landing face up on the tiles. You swore under your breath, bending down to retrieve it just as you felt someone else step into the room behind you.
“Sorry, I’ll just be a- Tom? Your mouth fell open at the sight of the boy stood in front of you, the brown curls you’d run your hands through only months ago gone, the light you’d known in his eyes dead and scattered amongst the ashes.
“I think we need to talk,” he said slowly, holding his hands up as if you were going to shoot him “about everything.”
Your mouth began to move, words flying around in your brain, but no sound came out as you struggled to piece together any semblance of thought. “What are you doing here?”
“I just…after the other night I figured we needed to talk. Properly talk.” He reached for your hand but you snatched it away, your heart beating loudly in your ears.
“Y/n, I know…I know what I did was shitty. But I just need you to hear me out.”
You scoffed, backing away from him until you were pressed against the garden door. “You think now’s a good time for this?”
“I think the best time was three months ago when you were next to me in bed,” he bit his lip, and this time you looked at him. Like, really looked at him.
His jeans were stained in all manner of dodgy areas, his shirt the old Tesco one you’d got him as a joke for his birthday. He had huge, purple bags beneath his eyes, and his socks were two different colours, like he’d been in such a rush he’d forgotten to check; you didn’t even bother to ask about the crocs.
“Well,” you whispered, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “At least you finally realised that.”
He nodded earnestly, moving towards you and freezing when you threw up your hand to stop him. “I did. Oh God, I did. I spent three months feeling like the shittest person in the world and I didn’t know how to call you to explain.”
“So you thought you’d accost me in my laundry room?”
“It…wasn’t my best plan. But you didn’t exactly make it easy for me to contact you.”
Your mouth fell open, your hand flying to your chest. “Watch it, Holland, or I might think you just tried to blame me for this whole mess.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, it sure as hell sounded like that was what you meant!” He flinched as you raised your voice and your arms, but you didn’t feel sorry for it. You’d spent months feeling like a complete idiot, wishing you’d never even told him how you felt. And here he was, trying you blame you for the mess he caused. “So tell me, Tom, just what exactly you think you’re doing here.
“I came to apologise-”
“That’s a good start.”
“And to say that I meant what I said…y’know, before I left.”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame with your arms crossed. Tom was halfway across the room now, his hands curled in front of him as he swiped them on his jeans. He was biting his lip, the glasses he didn’t need halfway down the bridge of his nose and it took every inch of you not to break and run to him, fall into the arms you knew so well and forget it had all happened.
You knew what it was like, the vanilla and the cinnamon that would waft up your nose and remind you that you were home. The strength of the arms that would ground you and hold you to Earth. It was so tempting, so inviting to just go back - but where would that get you?
No, going back wasn’t an option anymore. There was only forwards, where the path behind you was well trodden and full of tears.
“That’s nice,” you said at last, shaking your head. “But you can’t really expect me to believe you.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping when he realised you weren’t giving in. You wondered if he knew how deep he’d cut you, what those words had meant to you and how you’d felt when he’d snatched them away. You wondered if Harry had told him everything that happened over the next few months, how you’d almost broken and yet from the outside you looked happier than ever. You almost hoped he knew how you’d bounced back. How you were fine now.
Or at least, how you pretended to be fine.
“Maybe this isn’t the best place to do this,” he cast an eye round the room warily, and your skin bristled when his gaze finally landed on you. “Can we go up to your place?”
“Absolutely not.”
The words were out of your mouth before you could think, shocking yourself more than you shocked Tom.
“Well…will you come to mine?”
“Sure, if I need to see Harry,” you responded as the washing machine pinged “is there anything else? My laundry’s done.”
“Y/n, we need to talk about this,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper “you can’t just ignore me.”
You fixed him with a look, throwing the clean sheets into your basket with more force than necessary and walking towards him. You were so close you could smell his aftershave, different from his normal, more minty than you would have liked. You could see every hair, every line on his face, but it was the look in his eyes that broke you, the sadness that you’d felt for so many months hovering just within him too.
“No, Tom, we don’t,” your voice broke and fresh hot tears began to stream down your face. “The time for talking about it was before you left for Colorado. Now…now’s the time for me to move on, because you broke my heart Tom, you broke it.”
You were full on sobbing now, choking on your words as you spluttered through them. “You smashed it into so many pieces that I couldn’t find them all. And now you’re trying to smash it again, but I won’t allow it. I won’t allow you to take anymore of my heart than you already have.”
“I didn’t-”
“I don’t care Tom!” you screamed, but he barely flinched. You threw the basket down so hard it bounced on the floor and spilt the sheets again. “You had all that time to find out, all that time to do something about it, and you didn’t! So you’ll have to forgive me when I say I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“So that’s it then? Everything you said all those nights ago means nothing any more?” his voice was filled with a pain that cut you to the core, the wobble in his throat making your heart ache more than you expected.
“It means everything, and that’s the problem,” you sniffed, dropping your head to the floor.
You felt Tom draw closer, his body so close to yours that you could feel his heat. He lifted his fingers to your chin, catching your jaw and raising your head so your eyes met his.
“Why does it have to be a problem?”
You paused, almost not saying it. “Because I can’t let you break me again.”
He nodded, backing away, his fingers leaving your chin and you felt empty from the loss. “I’m sorry.”
It was barely a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear but not quite deep enough for it to mean anything. He turned and started walking away, pausing at the door to look back at you. He opened his mouth to say something, his bottom lip wobbling, but he shut it again before any words came out.
Then he disappeared and let the door bang shut behind him.
Relief flooded your body, seeping through every crack in your bones and every fragment of your heart. You were done with the excuses, the comments, the desperate pleas from Harry that his brother was an idiot and too caught up with work to realise what he’d done wrong. You were busy too, but that hadn’t ever made you spew a bunch of crap about loving someone since you’d seen them in the lunch room. It had never made you fill somebody’s heart with hope only to crush it in the morning with just a few simple words and excuses blamed on alcohol.
The final click of the lock was enough to make you slide against the door. Sink down to the floor. Bury your head in your hands.
It was relief, that was what it was. That was what you had to tell yourself. So you could get back up again and walk back to your flat and make everything okay again.
It wasn’t sadness.
It couldn’t ever feel like sadness.
So why did it feel like it was?
***
“Are you sure you want to go tonight?” Harry asked as he watched you smudge your lips with red. “Nobody will notice if you’re not there.”
You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, capping the lipstick tube with a satisfying click and spinning on your heel. “Oh please, it’s a party – we’re not storming off to war.”
“Yeah but it’s…Tom’s party.”
“And last I checked we weren’t exactly on speaking terms,” you shrugged, grabbing your bag from your bed. “He’s not likely to come anywhere near me, there’s going to be hundreds of people there.”
Harry shook his head and pushed himself off the door frame, fixing you with the look you were tired of getting. It had been two weeks since Tom had come to your flat and you were still nowhere near over it; not that you’d ever admit it, but you’d never been over it in the first place.
When Harry had mentioned that Tom was throwing a party to celebrate the release of his new movie, your immediate reaction had been words you couldn’t repeat in front of a three year old. But then he’d turned on the puppy dog eyes and you were suddenly feeling bad about making him go it alone.
“You could make friends with a plant pot, what do you need me there for?” you’d asked.
“Yeaaahhhh, but who’s going to stop me falling face first into that plant pot when I’m pissed?” Harry had replied, grinning at your annoyed face.
“Fine, but I’m drinking the first thing in sight and you’re keeping Tom away from me.”
“What is it with you two? You spend half your time acting like you hate each other. Wouldn’t it just be easier to, I don’t know, suck it up and get together already?” Harry interrupted your thoughts, jerking you back to reality with a flick of his wrist.
You snorted. “We tried that, didn’t exactly work that well.”
“Well it might work a lot better if you actually talked to the guy.”
“Damn it Harry,” you slammed your palm against the door. “I don’t want to talk to someone who told me he loved me and then ran three thousand miles away the next day!”
You could feel the sob building up in your chest, the one you’d buried so deep you’d forgotten it was even there. The walls seemed to tilt towards you as you stumbled into the hall, barely noticing as you slid against the kitchen door frame and forced air into your lungs. God you didn’t want to talk about this, not now when everything you’d done to bury this had worked so well.
“But you do want to talk to Tom! Maybe not the guy that broke your heart, but the guy you’ve been in love with since we were fourteen,” Harry said, exasperated. “You’re going around pretending like you’re over him, like you haven’t thought about him in months. But you threw that party for the same reason you kissed that bloke for, and you know it!”
“Are we seriously fighting over your brother right now? Are you back to being the damn messenger, because I can’t…I can’t keep…” tears were spilling over your cheeks, searing your eyes and stinging the familiar patches of skin that had been stained with the same tears only a few months ago. You tried to breathe, tried to refocus your mind but the world was swimming and you could hardly see anymore through the blurry glass of your tears.
Before you could think, Harry had pulled you into his arms and smothered you against his chest, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Sod the party, let’s just watch a movie and get some pizza.”
“No, no, I want to go,” you mumbled against his chest “I need this…I think. Just to see him and know that it’s all done, so I can move on and forget it ever happened.”
“Fuck that, Y/n, let’s just stay here.”
“Please? I really need this.”
Harry pushed you back gently, running a finger under your mascara stained eyes as he took a deep breath. You could see the indecision, the uncertainty at letting you step into the unknown written across his face. In this moment, it was you or his brother, and you hoped to God it was the latter. “This is the last time?”
“The last time,” you promised.
“Well,” he sighed, checking his watch, the long moment fading and passing into the night “I guess we have a party to get to.”
***
When you pulled up to Tom’s house, the lights were out and the curtains were drawn. You threw Harry a look, surprised that there was nobody spilling out of the doors and no music shaking the walls, but he didn’t seem to notice it.
“Err, where is everybody?” you asked, peering out of the window for signs of life.
“Haven’t the faintest,” Harry replied, pulling the handbrake on and reaching over you to open the door. “Do you wanna go in and I’ll catch up? I need to sort something quickly.”
You rolled your eyes and gathered your things from the backseat, feeling uneasy about the lack of people. “I can’t believe you’re sending me in there alone.”
“It’s just for five minutes, you’ll survive.”
“Or maybe I won’t and you’ll be reading my eulogy.”
“I look forward to it,” Harry smirked “I can finally tell people how nasty you are.”
You punched him in the shoulder and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath before starting towards the house. You felt stupid in the heels, the red lipstick suddenly feeling to garish and over the top.
You rolled your shoulders and set your jaw, running a hand nervously through your hair whilst the other clung tightly to your bag. The clack of your shoes against Tom’s gravel set your teeth on edge, and on impulse you reached down and pulled them off, enjoying the bite of the winter air against your hot feet.
By the time you reached the door, your confusion had only grown, because the house was completely silent and there were certainly no signs of a party. You spun around to find Harry and demand that he take you home, because it was nine o’clock, there was obviously no party, and you weren’t facing Tom alone.
Except his car was gone.
You bit your lip in surprise, looking up and down the street in case he’d just moved the car to park it somewhere safer. But he was nowhere to be seen - the road was empty save for a man running to his van at the bottom. You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone, realising the guy was taking the piss and figuring that if you called him before you saw him again you might not actually murder him.
But your phone was gone and come to think of it Harry hadn’t even been dressed for a party. What the hell was going on?
You debated knocking on another house’s door and asking to borrow the phone, call for a cab and just go home. But it was late and you felt bad about disturbing people that were probably sleeping, all because your best friend was an arsehole and you were too much of a coward to knock on Tom’s door. At last, you gave in and walked back up the drive, pausing at the front door and bracing yourself to see him.
How the hell were you going to explain it? “Oh sorry Tom, no I didn’t actually mean to come here, Harry just thought it would be funny to play a prank and don’t worry I’ll kill him myself the next time I see him.”
At least you looked nice, you thought, raising your hand to knock. At least he wouldn’t think you were ugly and a bitch.
As you moved your hand towards the door, it suddenly swung inwards, the hallway dark and unlit. You gasped, stumbling backwards, peering fearfully into the house in case some burglar was about to come running straight past you. But as your eyes began adjusting to the light, you noticed something strange about the floor.
It was covered in rose petals.
“Tom?” you called out nervously, stepping into the house. “Tom? It’s Y/n. Your front door is open…?”
You moved deeper into the house, quietly closing the door behind you so you didn’t wake him if he was sleeping. Keeping your hands against the wall in case you slipped, you made your way down the hall, noticing a soft glow coming from the kitchen. You paused when you reached the doorway, wondering if you should’ve grabbed your keys or a weapon in case there really was a burglar in here.
But at the last second, you lost your footing and stumbled through the doorway, falling into the kitchen with a soft thud and gasp.
It took a second for you to process it all, but when you finally did you almost felt your heart stop. Fairy lights glittered over every inch of the wall, the floor here too covered with rose petals and flowers. The kitchen table, bowing in the middle just like everything else Tom had made on that bloody wood work course, was covered in a cloth, two plates and a single candle decorating the surface. You stared transfixed at the setup, your mouth falling open in shock.
And then Tom appeared.
Clutching the biggest bouquet of daisies you’d ever seen in your life.
“You like it?” he whispered “I know daisies are your favourite.”
“What…what is all this?” you breathed, still gobsmacked by the softly glowing room.
Tom smiled, moving closer to you and setting the flowers on the table. “A really over the top apology.”
“This is for me?”
“Obviously, dummy,” he laughed, flinching when you smacked his arm. “Hey! I spent money on these flowers, I’ll have you know!”
“And what a dreadful waste, Holland, don’t you care about our environment?” You were joking but your breath was still caught, your brain trying to play catch up as the scene played in front of you, like you were watching this all happen to someone else. Someone luckier.
“I care more about you,” he replied, and somehow he was even closer than before. “I care more about you than anything else in my life. And I couldn’t quite figure out how to explain that three months ago.”
“And you know now?”
He nodded, pulling you towards him. “I think I do, yes.”
“Then say it.”
His lips parted, his eyes caught on yours as he reached to cup your cheek. A waft of his aftershave made its way towards you, the mintiness of before replaced with the warm vanilla you remembered so well. The glasses were gone and he was wearing the burgundy suit you’d had too many dreams about to remember.
But in that moment, none of that mattered.
All you could think about in that moment was the way he was staring at you.
Like you were the most precious thing on Earth.
“Three months ago I told you how I wanted to spend forever with you, how you’re all I’ve thought about for years. How you consume every part of me, spend your days dancing in my mind and reminding me of everything we could have. But what I didn’t tell you was why.
“Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know why it is that I love you so much, and that’s what scared me – the fact that I could feel something so deeply for you and have no rational explanation for it. So I thought the logical thing was that the feelings weren’t real and they weren’t that powerful, that if I tried to move on then we’d eventually forget and nothing would be lost.
“Those months away from you were torture, not knowing how badly you were hurting and why you’d blocked my number. I didn’t realise how much of an ass I was until Harry flew out to America and practically beat down my door.”
“Harry went to America?” you interrupted him “when?”
Tom smiled, his thumb rubbing your cheek in slow circles. “That weekend you thought he had that photography competition. He flew out to kick my ass and ask what the hell happened.”
“I wondered how he knew so much,” you chuckled quietly “it was like he came back from that weekend and he knew exactly what to say.”
“Because that’s Harry, he always knows exactly what to do,” Tom shrugged.
“Tonight was his idea, wasn’t it?” you grinned, watching as he blushed fuchsia.
“Well, the idea was. But I take full credit for putting it together!”
You laughed at his face, the crinkles in his smile and the dimples in his cheeks so familiar you could have drawn them blindfolded. You reached up to trace them, still not quite believing this was real, when just two weeks ago you thought he’d left that laundry room and walked out of your life forever.
“Hey Tom?” you murmured, wrapping your fingers around his. “Two weeks ago when you came to see me…how did you get there?”
He frowned and looked at you like you’d gone insane. “Harry dropped me.”
“So he wasn’t cooking?”
“If Harry was cooking the fire brigade would’ve been called.”
You giggled, knowing it was true. He’d tried to cook pancakes for you last year and you’d had to throw out the pan because you couldn’t scrape it off.
“Why would you think he was?” Tom asked, smiling softly in the dim light.
“Well, it sounded like there were pans clanging in the background,” you said “I just figured he was making breakfast.”
“I told him to say that,” Tom admitted, his cheeks still red “I actually bought you a present back from Colorado but I broke it in the car.”
“You never were very careful, were you Tommy?” you smiled, reaching up instinctively to brush his curls behind his ears. When all your fingers found was stubble, your hand settled in the curve of his neck, cupping his cheek as you tried to find the words to explain what would happen next.
“All I know is that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you “and if getting you back took Harry lying about making breakfast? Then I’m not going to complain. I don’t want to waste another second that I could be spending on you.”
You laughed, nestling your head into the crook of his neck as he drew you closer. Vanilla overwhelmed your senses as you sank into his familiarity, overcome by the sweetness and homeliness. You’d had so many questions, and so little time to ask them, but after it all there was still just one that remained answered.
“Why me?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes “why me when you could have literally anyone else?”
“I-” he stopped himself, stumbling over the knee-jerk reaction as he took a deep breath. “Because there’s never been anyone but you.”
“And this is real?” you whispered, feeling the unknown stretch in front of you as your heart skipped a beat. “Because if you say it is, that you want this, I can’t go back again. I’ll be jumping without a parachute.”
Tom smiled, tilting his head to the side. He caught your gaze, his hands wandering to your waist and pulling you closer whilst your heart beat faster than it ever had before. You held your breath as he leant forward, catching your lips with his.
The moment they touched was like he’d lit a bonfire inside you; your skin burned and your lungs filled with the smoke. You could hardly breathe, feeling your nerves spark alight and race with electricity, every touch bringing you closer to how you’d been three months ago. Memories of that night danced across your vision, playing like a record you’d longed to open – every kiss, every touch, every whisper on replay in front of you.
At last, he pulled away, taking the fire with him while electricity crackled in your veins.
“Then I guess, darling,” he whispered, hushed under his breath “I’ll simply have to catch you.”
taglist:
@zabdisamor @jinxfanfics @jillanaholland @enjoymyloves @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @averyfosterthoughts @ziggyspurplehaze
#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland smut#tom holland#tom holland fanfic#tom holland oneshot#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman smut
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Can you use the prompt “Can I kiss you?” with your favorite ship?
omg literally thank you sm anon because this was so much fun to write!! i got this ask and immediately started writing!!! i did blackdale which is not my fav ship ever but i just was so inspired so i hope u like
i also posted on ao3 since it ended up being so long
“Can I kiss you?”
Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn
Lucie Herondale should be happy.
For the first time in over a year, everything was going well. They had defeated Belial and Tatiana. Her brother and her parabatai were happily married. Matthew had quit drinking and was beginning to heal. She and Grace had successfully returned Jesse back to life and convinced the Clave it was done by Belial, not by their own involvement in black magic. She still had her family, her friends, her Marks, and was learning more about her powers with the help of her Uncle Jem.
Yet there was still something missing.
Upon his return to life, the Clave - in an uncharacteristic act of generosity - had given Chiswick House to Jesse. For the past three months, he had holed himself up in the great stone pile, working to attempt to return the grand house to its former glory.
The first month after she and Grace brought Jesse back, Bridget had begrudgingly driven Lucie out to Chiswick House every day. She would bring all sorts of offerings - new books; freshly baked jam tarts; perfectly sharpened daggers and even a brand new sword, the blade stamped with a ring of thorns that matched the pattern on his locket, which she had ordered in from Idris. Jesse would always meet her at the front door, attempt to refuse the gift, finally accept and then bid her goodbye. That first month, he never once invited her in.
But Lucie Herondale was nothing if not persistent.
The second month, he continued his work on Chiswick House. One day, the carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a newly installed wrought-iron gate. “Well, this is new,” Lucie heard Bridget drawl from the driver’s seat. Hopping down from the carriage, Lucie took in the new gate, black metal soaring up into the gray London sky. On the very top of the gate, curving bars formed the words ‘Blackthorn Hall.’
“I’ll walk up from here, Bridget,” Lucie called over, while quickly scribbling an open rune on the metal. Slipping through the gate, she made her way up the stone drive, her boots lightly crunching the rock under her foot.
Looking around, Lucie could tell that Jesse had already made wonderful progress with the house. The front lawn was manicured and free of the overgrown weeds that had overtaken the hedges along the drive. Despite it being a dreary day, the white stone facade of the house even seemed to shine brighter.
Lucie had made it to the door and before she could take the knocker in her hand, it swung open. Jesse stood on the threshold, black hair tumbling in front of his eyes. He was in shirtsleeves, as he nearly always was when Lucie visited. Lucie couldn't bring herself to be scandalized, since she had grown so used to seeing him in shirtsleeves in his ghostly form. He wore no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing the entire curve of his throat and his un-Marked skin. “I was in the study and I saw you walking up the drive…” he began, and then wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Where’s your carriage?”
“At the front gate. Bridget and I stopped to admire the new gate you installed. ‘Blackthorn Hall?’” She asked, to which a blush rose up on his cheeks. It still startled her to see him with colour on his face.
With a small smile, he nodded, “yes. Do you like it?”
“I do,” she grinned and then held up the basket she had carried up. “I brought you scones.”
“Oh,” he said, flatly. Lucie’s smile fell, and he hurriedly added, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a scone.”
“You’ve never had a scone?” She exclaimed. “How can you even consider yourself an Englishman?”
He laughed - a beautiful, sonorous laugh - and then looked at her for a moment. “Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally asked.
“I would love that,” she smiled. Jesse stepped aside to let her and the scones into the house, closing the door behind her.
Jesse led her through the foyer and up the staircase, then down a hall and into a drawing room. Although the wallpaper and decor in the room were dated, the wood of the furniture was polished to a shine, and the dust that had previously coated the walls had been cleaned away. A fire was roaring in the hearth, battling away the dampness of the cool, November day. Above the mantle, the sword she had brought Jesse was balanced on two pegs.
“Oh,” she breathed when her eyes caught the blade. Noticing what she was looking at, a flush traveled up his exposed neck and settled on his cheeks. “I am so glad that you like it.”
“I-” he began and abruptly stopped, his face morphing into an expression she was unable to identify. “Maybe you should go,” he said suddenly. Lucie’s face scrunched up in confusion as he stepped back from her. “If anyone found out you were here, just the two of us… you would be ruined.”
Lucie huffed. “Not like there are hordes of men knocking down the doors of the Institute asking for my hand in marriage anyways, Jesse.”
Watching his shoes intently, he took another step backward. “Please, Lucie, just go.”
“Fine,” she replied sharply, dropping the basket of scones on the conversation table on her way out.
After that, Lucie did not return to Blackthorn Hall. She hadn’t heard from Jesse in nearly two months. Now, Lucie watched from across the ballroom as her parents greeted the families arriving for the annual Christmas ball. Faces seemed to blur by her - the Wentworths, the Townsends, the Pouncebys.
Then Jesse Blackthorn walked through the ballroom doors. Lucie was convinced her heart truly stopped beating. He was dressed immaculately; all his clothes were obviously new and flawlessly tailored. His dancing oxfords were unscuffed and the black of his tailcoat was balanced by the crisp white of his waistcoat. He was a perfect picture in black and white, the only color in the entire image being the green of his eyes - which were fixed on Lucie.
When their eyes met, Lucie’s heart restarted at triple-time. All but ignoring her parents’ greetings, he moved across the room to Lucie with purpose. Too fast and not soon enough, he was standing close enough for her to reach out and touch him. But the memory of the way he had told her to leave flickered in the back of her mind. “What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms across the red bodice of her gown.
“Well, the entire Enclave is invited to the Christmas ball, and I am a member of the Enclave.” He pointed out, to which Lucie rolled her eyes. He took a small step closer to her and continued, “is there a place we can talk, privately?”
Lucie looked around. Many were watching them, as Jesse wasn’t exactly covert in making his way over to her. A small voice in her brain was screaming no, you will be absolutely ruined! You will never be married as is, you are only making it harder for yourself! But her heart was thumping out the sound of Jesse’s name. She nodded, “yes. Follow me.”
With a relieved smile, Jesse followed her down the same hall that led to the games room and into one of the lesser-used withdrawing rooms. A fire had not yet been started in the room and the air was frigid, causing goosebumps to rise up on Lucie’s arms. After closing the door, Jesse turned to face her. In the witchlight that illuminated the room, the green of his eyes was the same colour as the canopy of trees in Brocelind Forest. “I’m sorry,” he started, moving closer to her. “I am truly sorry for the way I acted these past few months, and especially the last time you came to visit me. May I be frank with you, Miss Herondale?”
Lucie swallowed and nodded, unable to form words.
He took another small step closer to her. “You have permeated every inch of my mind. I see the colour of your eyes in the sky and the curl of your hair in the branches of trees. I hear your voice narrating the books I read. When I try a new food, I find myself wondering if you like it. When I manage to sleep, I dream of you. That first month… every day you came to my door and it was all I could do to not gather you in my arms, to feel your warmth. You risked everything for me - you could’ve had your marks stripped! I am not worth what you could’ve lost.”
She stared up to him, blue eyes wide. “I knew exactly what could’ve happened to me and I chose to take the risk. Because I care about you. I care for you in a way I have never cared for anyone else.” Gathering her red skirts, she moved towards him. “I, of course, would have done the same thing for my family or my parabatai; but I feel for you in a different kind of way. I can’t explain it, but some part of me just longed to have you beside me - to be able to reach out and touch you.” Tentatively, Lucie extended her arm across what little space was left between them. Laying her hand gently over his shirt-clad chest, she felt his newfound warmth for the first time. She remembered how cold he had been when he had been a ghost. But now, the heat from his skin radiated from under his shirt, warming the chill from her skin in the frosty room. “Is this okay?” She asked, and he nodded slowly.
“Lucie…” He began, searching her blue eyes with his own green pair. “I just fear I will never be what you deserve. I am not a man with any sort of honor. I live in a house tainted by years of demonic activity. I cannot even bear marks like a real Shadowhunter.”
“It is not up to you to decide what I deserve,” she said. She meant to sound menacing, but her voice came out as barely above a whisper. Unblinking, Jesse reached up and caressed her cheek.
The heat from his hand on her cheekbone sent sparks of fire all the way down to her toes. Lucie let her eyes flutter close and leaned further into his touch. He was warm, so so warm, almost burning hot. She quickly forgot the lack of fire in the room. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, thumb drifting over her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed, and in an instant, she was gathered up in his arms. The hand that had been resting on her cheek moved to cup her neck, sending jolts of lightning down her spine. Jesse partially bent down and partially pulled her up to him, connecting their lips. Lucie’s mind whirred with the softness of Jesse’s lips on hers, his hand on her neck, his other hand grasping at the silk bodice of her dress. I can finally write the perfect kissing scene! She thought with joy, then realized, wait… am I supposed to be doing something?
Slowly, she lifted her arms up around Jesse’s neck, coming to rest at the edge of the collar of his tailcoat. Wisps of his black hair brushed against her fingers. She turned her head slightly, allowing herself better access to move her lips gently against Jesse’s without clacking their teeth together.
Raising herself further on her tip-toes, she brought herself closer to Jesse. His hand at her waist encircled her tighter, bringing her body flush against his. Every one of her nerves was alight with the feeling of him surrounding her. His scent, his warmth, his taste. Lucie had never even considered that you would taste the person you were kissing! She had never liked the flavor of mint tea before, but she loved the way it tasted on Jesse’s lips.
Unexpectedly, Jesse removed his lips from hers. Dipping his head down, he laid kisses along her exposed collarbone. “You are my shining light,” she felt him murmur against her skin, his breath hot and his body alive.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought if she tried hard enough, maybe she could just melt into his touch and completely lose herself in the warmth of his embrace.
A quick rap at the door of the withdrawing room caused them to spring apart from each other. “Lulu?” her father’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you in here?”
She looked to Jesse in panic and then quickly remembered that Jesse was very much visible to everyone now. However, if Will walked in and saw the state they were in, Jesse was very likely to return to his previous ghostly mode of being. “Yes, I’m here! I just came in to… fix my shoe.”
“Cariad…” He sighed, and she could picture her father pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you come back here with Jesse Blackthorn.”
“Jesse Blackthorn? I led him to the games room, you could see if he is there if you need him.”
The door handle jiggled. “Open this door or I will.”
Lucie looked to Jesse with a sheepish smile. He had an unreadable look on his face as he reached out to gently stroke her cheek before turning and moving towards the door. Lucie watched him brace himself as he pulled the door open, expecting to face the pure fury of William Herondale.
Instead, her father was grinning from ear to ear, with Tessa by his side. “See, Tess, I told you! She was not visiting Chiswick House every day just to ‘lend the support of the London Institute.’”
“Papa!” Lucie threw her hands up. Jesse looked as if he was about to faint.
Tessa rolled her eyes and waived off her husband. “Yes, yes. I always thought it would be Matthew, but you were right, as always.”
Lucie gaped at her parents. “Were you two betting on who I would marry?”
“Yes,” Will shrugged nonchalantly. Tessa nodded in agreement
Taking her husband by the arm, Tessa began to drag Will back towards the main ballroom. “Come along then, dear. I left Gabriel in charge of greeting the guests.”
Will looked at his wife, completely dismayed, and then the two dashed down the hall and back towards the ballroom.
Jesse turned to her, still frightfully pale. “Marry?”
Her mouth went dry. “I… I didn’t mean - I don’t expect -” she stammered, fidgeting under his green gaze.
Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “It would be my absolute honor.”
#blackdale#lucie herondale#jesse blackthorn#wessa#will herondale#tessa gray#the shadowhunter chronicles#tsc#the last hours#tlh#carley writes
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Unwind.
A/N: After writing this, I have a seat reserved in hell with my name on it. This is pure filth and I had this idea stuck in my head for quite some time; I remember seeing someone talk about it here on tumblr but I can’t remember who (please message me if you have written something about Miguel getting pegged, so I can give you credit). Also, thank to these wonderful people @thickemadame @woahitslucyylu who gave me some ideas on the group chat, you guys rock!♥️
/ Masterlist
Warnings: unprotected sexual intercourse, oral sex (f receiving and m receiving), pegging
Summary: Miguel has been busy with work, and you force him to take a break
Miguel didn’t exactly have an ordinary job, he worked odd hours, sometimes he had to be away for days, even weeks, but you understood. You knew what you were getting into by dating him, and you didn’t mind… but your patience was wearing thin. Miguel always made sure to spend time with you, his wife, because he loved you and he felt himself with you, and he could unwind from his duties. Being a cartel leader was though. Usually, Miguel would close a deal, solve a problem, whatever he had to do, and then come back home, but not this time. It had started with a couple of days on the other side, for business, and then he started working at al hours of the day, his only focus was his work. You let it be for a week, figuring that this was something important, and that it would eventually end, and you’d have Miguel back for yourself… were you wrong. It had currently been 2 weeks since you spent more than 10 minutes with your husband. You rarely saw him anymore and it was driving you crazy. He had promised to always put you before work, and not only was he breaking that promise, but every time you saw him, he was more and more worried, worn out, tired. You were sure that he was overworking himself and you needed to put some sense back into him, whatever he had to deal with wasn’t worth all this energy, he had to take a break.
One morning, you tried to keep him in bed for 10 more minutes and he almost snapped at you, telling you that he had to work and he would be home late, and you had enough. As soon as he was out of the house, you started planning the day: you went out and bought some new lingerie, smiling as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a nice black lace set, consisting of a bra, a pair of crotchless panties, a garter belt and stockings. Then you went back home and dug into the drawer, where you and Miguel kept your sex toys. Most of them were vibrators, wands, and dildos, but you had some anal plugs, which both you and Miguel enjoyed. It was actually his idea, he talked you into trying anal sex and then he tried it. He only ever used the anal plugs, you had them in different sizes to get used to it before moving to the real thing, but sometimes he enjoyed fucking you with a plug on, and you liked seeing him trying to control himself as not to cum too fast. Today you wanted to get back at him, but you also wanted to take care of him and him only.
When Miguel came home, you were waiting for him in the living room, dressed in comfortable clothes; as soon as the door opened, you went near him and greeted him with a small kiss, as Nestor stood outside. “I got it from here, Nestor, thank you”, you smiled at him and he nodded, both of you watching as Miguel went straight for the bedroom. “Tomorrow I want him to have the morning off, so postpone everything he has to do, he needs to rest”, you said, and Nestor agreed. You bid him goodnight and he left; you made your way to the bedroom, where your husband was, sat on the edge of the bed, his jacket off and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He had his elbows on his knees, he was hunched over and you could see how tense his body was.
“Miguel, mi amor”, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he looked at you as you made your way over to where he was, getting on your knees in front of him, to look him in the eyes. “I know you had a hard day, just let me take are of you”, you put your hands on his cheeks and he furrowed his brows. “I can’t I have to work tomorrow”. “No, I cancelled everything for tomorrow morning, so you can rest”. His eyes grew hard in a second, his expression firm as he grabbed your wrists. “You don’t decide what I do and don’t do. I have a job and if I need to work, I will work”, you were really trying to keep your cool, but it was becoming hard. “Yeah? And tell me, is your work more important than me? Because it feels like it. We barely see each other, now, it’s been like this for two weeks. I know you’re a busy man and I accept it, but you’re acting as if I’m not here! When was the last time you told me you loved me?”, your voice was angry, loud and as soon as you finished speaking, you saw the sorrow in his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips and he hung his head, his hands letting go of your wrists and going to cover his face. You sat beside him on the bed, a hand on the back of his head, stroking his scalp. “I am not pissed because you have to work, but because I can see how tired you are, how all this is wearing you out… you need a break, mi vida, let me take care of you”, you kissed his shoulder and he looked at you, a small smile on his face. “I’m so glad I married you, you know me more than anyone else…”, he took one of your hands in his and squeezed it. “What did you wanna do, amor?”, you smiled and got up, starting to undress before him and revealing the lingerie you had under your clothes. His eyes became hungry the second they saw the lace on your skin, the lack of physical contact becoming evident to him, too.
“Fuck me, mi reina, is this all for me?”, his eyes watched your every move and he was completely captivated by you. You hummed in agreement and smiled at him, getting onto his lap and starting to unbutton his shirt, his hands grabbing your thighs as a reflex. “I’m gonna be in charge tonight, baby, finish stripping and get on all fours on the bed”, he started doing as he was told, his eyes trained on you, seeing you pull out the plugs, the lube… And the strapless dildo. You noticed the look on his face, and turned towards him, “Do you trust me?”. “Yeah”, his answer came immediately, and you smiled. “Then let me worship you”, you put a hand on his growing erection, stroking it softly on top of his briefs. He finished stripping and he settled on the bed, just like you asked, on all fours and completely naked. You grabbed one of the plugs and showed it to him. “Is this okay?”, once he nodded, you took the lube and went to kneel behind him. You softly trailed your hands up the back of thighs, until you reached his ass, and spread his cheeks. Your tongue traced the way from his balls to his hole, he hissed and arched his back a bit, pushing his hips towards you. “Patience, baby”, you smiled as you coated the plug in lube, putting extra lube on his ass, wanting everything to be as smooth as possible, not wanting it to be uncomfortable for him. When you slid the plug into him, he closed his eyes and let out a whine, his muscles relaxing under your hands, and you kissed the skin all around the plug. You stood up and asked him to do the same, your hands in his, making him lay back on the bed; you started to kiss him, moving to his neck next, and then his nipples, his stomach, his pelvis and, lastly, the head of his cock. He whined again and you couldn’t wait to hear more of him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard, I’m gonna ride your face, your cock and then I’m gonna fuck you with the strap-on, what do you say? Sounds good?”, your right hand was stroking his thigh and the other kept his cock near your mouth, your breath fanning over him. “Yes”, he answered, eyes closed. “Yes what?” “Yes, mistress”. “Good boy”, you praised him and let go of his dick, grabbing the ropes that were sitting at the end of the bed.
Once his hands were tied, you checked with him if they were too tight, and he answered that they were fine. You climbed onto the bed, settling on top of his head, and lowered yourself. “Eat me out, mi amor, show me how good you are with your mouth”. He started to lick into you right away, his saliva and you juices making sloppy sounds every time he did something. The way your hips were moving, his small moans and your clit bumping against his nose had you cumming in minutes, his mouth never disappointing. “Good job, baby – you moved down and kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue – you were so good, now I’m gonna ride you, but you’re not allowed to cum, okay?”. His lips parted and he was about to answer, but he hadn’t had sex in weeks and he decided he was going to take whatever you gave him. “Yes, mistress”, he said. You put a pillow under his head and kissed his forehead before scooting down on his body, his cock was rock hard now and with the way he ate you out, you slipped him inside you easily; his hips jerked upwards and his hands tugged at the restraints. “I know, baby, I know it feels good, just take it”, you started riding him and your mouth hung open. After all this time of being with Miguel, you always marvelled at how thick he was, his slight curve bumping your g-spot deliciously; with your hands on his chest, you started riding him faster, and you slowed down just when he was about to cum. You picked up and slowed your pace a couple of times, edging him, and he was going crazy, whining all along. When you stopped again, his eyes shot open and he begged, “No, don’t stop, please keep going, please”. You bit your lip and looked at him, your pussy was drenched with the way he was whining, moreover, you had Miguel Galindo, El Diablo, the most powerful man in Santo Padre, tied to the bed, begging you to let him cum. It was an intoxicating feeling, knowing you had all this power over him.
When you removed yourself from him, you adjusted your garter belt and went to where the other toys were; grabbing the strapless dildo, you brought it back to the bed, sitting down next to your husband, who was getting antsy to get out of the ties around his wrists. His eyes locked onto the toy in your hand, recognizing it immediately. It was a custom dildo, the part that went inside of you was moulded after Miguel’s cock (you also had a regular dildo shaped like him) and then it had another phallus, so it could be used on him. Money can buy lots of things. Your fingers traced the shape of the toy, smiling as you saw his eyes watching you. “Would you like to get this wet for me?”, you offered him the part that was shaped after him, watching him take it in his mouth and getting it ready for you. Watching Miguel suck a cock, even if it was fake, was one of the hottest things you ever saw. Licking your lips, you placed yourself on his lap, making a show of spreading your legs and inserting the dildo inside you; your head was lulled back, mouth open as small gasps came out of it as you experimentally moved the dildo in and out of you. “Fuck, it feels so good, I love your cock”, your hands pushed the toy back inside and you got on your knees, settling in between his legs. You reached down and kissed him, his mouth eager against yours, you were getting lost in the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, pecking his nose with your lips. “Are you sure about this? We can stop, if you want”, you told him, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m okay, mi amor, go for it”, he answered and leaned up to kiss your forehead.
You put a finger on the plug that was sticking out his ass. “I’m going to take this out”, you said, and when he nodded, you carefully started pulling it towards you, successfully getting it out of him, your cunt clenching around the dildo inside you at his gasp. Then, you grabbed the lubricant and started spreading it in generous amounts, first on the strap-on and then onto his puckered hole, you wanted this to be comfortable and safe. You lined the toy up to Miguel’s ass, putting the tip right against his skin, using your hand to spread his legs wide and push them towards his chest. “Tell me if I have to stop”, he nodded and you started to push in. the strap-on wasn’t that big but it was a bit bigger than the plugs he was used to. You gave him a moment to adjust, and you started to move when his hips squirmed on the bed. His head was turned on the side, his eyes wide shut as your hips started moving faster inside him, your core throbbing at the sight in front of you.
His hands were still tied to the headboard, and you knew that for how good you were fucking him, he needed stimulation on his cock, too. “Do you want me to touch you, amor?”, he nodded frantically while panting and you smiled, angling your thrusts better to reach his prostate. “Let me hear you say it”, you demanded. His skin felt hot and Miguel felt as if he was about to burst. “Please, mistress, touch me”, he whined, and it was music to your ears. “Where do you want me to touch you?”. “My cock, please”. “Good boy”. You adjusted your position, sitting on your heels and moving a bit faster, as well as gripping his cock in your hand, stroking it painfully slow. His panting became more frequent and you were sure that if you kept your rhythm, he would come soon, and you would come soon, too. “I can feel your cock twitching – you said and gripped him a bit tighter when you reached the head – should I make you cum?”, he whined again and tugged at the restrains with his wrists. “Yes, I’ve been good, please let me cum”, he groaned. It was getting hard for you to keep your rhythm, the dildo inside you causing you too much pleasure, and you wanted to come, badly. “Not yet, hold it”, you spoke as you tried to make your orgasms subside; the harder you thrusted into him, the harder you stimulated yourself. “Look at you, taking this cock so good, hm?”, you said and he whined at your words, squirming around to try and get more friction. “Just a little longer, mi amor, then I promise I’ll make you cum”, you said as you kept stroking his dick slowly, you kind of felt bad about not letting him cum straight away, but then again, he had edged you so many times, it only seemed fair to do the same to him.
You kept fucking him for another 10 minutes, his gasps becoming louder and louder, “Please, mistress, I can’t take it anymore, please just let me cum”. Hearing this you decided you had denied him enough, he had been good, and he deserved to cum. So you bent down, your hips slowing just a little and your mouth wrapping around the head of his cock. It was bright red and pulsing, just beggin for an orgasm. He almost yelled at the feeling, his hips bucking up into your mouth and you let him be, you had denied him enough. You removed your mouth, the precum that was all over your hand could help you lubricate his whole cock, but you decided to spit on it and then wraped a hand around him again, starting to stroke him faster. The slick sounds coming from your hand on his dick brought you near your orgasm and you couldn’t wait to let go. “Eres mi rey. Cum for me”, your words triggered his orgasm, thick white ropes of cum coming out of him and getting all over his chest and stomach, his hips were bucking into your hand and just the sight of him coming undone had you on the edge. You slid a hand down to play with your clit and you were there, leaning forward as you put a hand beside him to support your body. You rode out your high as best as you could, then opened your eyes. Both of you still had to control your breathing, but you could see from his eyes that he was satisfied, and tired.
You slowly pulled out of him, stroking his thigh gently as he hissed at your movements. You undressed completely, getting out of your lingerie and letting it pool on the floor, not really caring about anything else other than Miguel. You got the wipes out of the nightstand and cleaned his skin from his cum. All the while, he was looking at you taking care of him, his eyes were filled with love and adoration. “Te amo, mi amor”, he whispered. His eyes met yours and you smiled “Te amo”, you leaned down to kiss him, and he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you onto him. You moved yourself so that you were with your back against the bed and he was lying his head on your chest, while you stroked his hair. “I’m sorry for these past weeks, I didn’t realize that it was hurting you”, he whispered. “What hurt me the most was seeing you overwork yourself. You have to take a break sometimes, work will still be there waiting”. He nodded and kissed your collarbone, he sighed and nuzzled against your bare skin. “I love you, I really do”. “I love you, too”, you answered and kissed his head, continuing to stroke his head until he fell asleep.
The next morning, you let him sleep in. You dug out one of his shirts and put it on yourself, kissing his temple while he slept. Crawling downstairs, you made him breakfast, and made some extra coffee, in case he wanted some more. You put everything on a tray and brought it back upstairs, smiling at his sleeping frame as you entered the room again. Setting the tray on the nightstand, you got back on the bed and felt Miguel stretch, signalling he was awake, now. His arms wrapped around your waist, his head snuggled into your lower abdomen as he breathed in your scent. “Good morning”, his voice was groggy, he was still completely naked and his hair was a mess, but he was the most beautiful man ever. You smiled at him and started stroking his back, “Good morning, mi amor, how’d you sleep?”. He hummed and his lips stretched into a lazy smile. “You know I always sleep good when I’m with you”, he said. “Hope you’re hungry, I made breakfast”, you said and his eyes opened and locked with yours. “I’m hungry for something else, let me thank you for yesterday night”, he sat up, exposing his body to you and you couldn’t help but stare. He smirked and grabbed your ankles, pulling you flush on the bed before hovering over you. By the time you ate breakfast, everything had gone cold, but you didn’t mind, as long as you were with Miguel.
taglist @scuzmunkie @elcococruz @starrynite7114 @gemini0410 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamoured-x @justahopelessssromantic @claytoncardenasbabymama i tagged a bunch of people lol sorry🤷🏼♀️
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One Clear Moment
Am I a cheese-fucker or am I confused? Is it just a phase? I DON’T KNOW SO DON’T COME FOR ME!
WARNING! Some HEAVILY suggestive content up ahead- never expanded on or detailed but it is way too obvious to not put the warning out there. Possible disordered eating (mention), mention towards trauma but not expanded on.
Consider this a ‘post- vento aureo’ timeline where you and Formaggio escape your deaths and decide to elope. Yes, some real fluffy domestic romance shit.
@lasquadraweek2020, @risottoneroo, @giogio-gucci-gangstar.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I promise I’ll stop annoying ya’ll with the tags when this week is over
1,8 K words and a gender neutral reader- good luck
“You up yet, sugar?” You heard Formaggio whisper in your ear.
You wanted to answer no, just be content to press yourself back into his chest with a sigh. Just so he can hold you a bit longer. But you only grumbled a soft no.
He laughed against the back of your neck, wrapping an arm around you softly and turning you to face him. “Baaaabe-“ he whined softly. “Forget breakfast at home- let’s go out to eat for breakfast.”
You stretched out in his arms, hooking your one leg over his hip. “You said that we’d go out for dinner tonight.”
A rough laugh vibrated in his chest as you turned to face him. “Why not both?”
“Or all day?”
He laughed pulling you in tighter. “Come on, you know I don’t get days off very often. I just want to get out of the house with my love.” He drummed his fingers on your back gently then perked you with a bright smile. “Beach day.”
You raised an eyebrow at him- “You just want me in the least amount of clothes possible.”
“Not my fault your ssooo hot angel face.” His forehead touched against yours, his hand running down your exposed side before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. “Ohhh honey buns.” He groaned against your lips- hand slipping from your hip to your backside.
“Sweetie, be gentle with me.” He nearly pleaded as you rolled him onto his back with you on top, running your hands up his bare chest. A whine came from his lips as you leaned forward, giving him just enough friction as you leaned down to kiss his neck.
“Beach day right?”
You rolled off of him before his hands could find purchase on your body and head straight to the closet for your swimwear.
“Baby!” He called from the bed as you head towards the kitchen to prepare snacks.
“Yeah?” You turned to stand at your bedroom door, leaning against the frame.
“Your teasing is gonna get you in trouble.”
“Ohhh I can’t wait to see where that trouble leads.”
You spun around and continued on your own mission.
You had gone to the trouble to prepare two cold salads, some finger quesadillas (a family favorite of Formaggio’s) and some muffins you had left in the cupboard but the second Formaggio slipped into the kitchen, he simply nodded at the packed bag, nodded and added the bags of cookies and chips and some bottles of water before zipping it up and giving you a kiss. “I’ll get these in the car. Would you bring the towels and sunscreen in your bag?”
“You got the umbrella?”
“Yeah, sugar.”
It was only after he had disappeared into the garage that you felt your heart swell with the cute domesticity- the two of you had been through hell and back against Bucciarati but the day after Formaggio could sneak away out of the explosion that day, he faked his death and soon the two of you eloped and never looked back. You had new names and new lives- you worked as a nurse at a pediatric clinic and he was working as a bar manager at a club nearby. Things were good- so impossibly good you were sure that by some way you had made it to heaven or that it was all just a dream.
You threw on a light shirt and some jean shorts and hopped into the car with your husband.
True to his word you had stopped at a beach front restaurant for a proper breakfast before deciding to rent some surf boards.
You’d been living so close to the beach for so long that surfing had definitely become a nearly mastered feat. With a smile on your face you sat up on your board and waited for your husband to paddle by. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve worked off breakfast?” He laughed.
You gazed up at the sun- it was probably around noon. “I believe you- it’s past noon. Need to reapply some sun screen too.”
You paddled back and tailgated in the trunk of your car- finishing half the water before setting up under the umbrella in the pristine white sand. The people started filling in the open spots on the beaches, the two of you leaning back and watching families and more couples than you could count. Formaggio looked up at you as you leaned over your own legs to get sunscreen over your feet.
“You ever wonder if we made a mistake picking this place?”
“Oh? And what would stop us from relocating?” You moved over to whisper in your ear. “Did you forget we’re not being watched anymore?”
Formaggio laughed, turning his head to steal a kiss on your cheek. “So we’ll talk where to next when we get home.”
You laughed at that. Was this what freedom felt like? At least you could admit that you forgot yourself but it was moments like this- that you could bask in the sunlight without the weight of the gang on your shoulders.
You had just finished the water in your hand when Formaggio leaned forward and kissed your jaw softly. You practically melted into him, leaning in closer, turning your head to kiss him properly.
But after a moment you stopped him and with a smile said. “We’re not going home.”
He gave an audible groan as he laid back into the trunk. “Doll face you can’t kiss me like that and expect me to behave.”
You turned back and hovered your upper body over him, with a pout you ran a hand over his chest. “But you promised.”
Formaggio ran a hand up your arm and sighed. “How am I supposed to say no to you sweet cheeks?”
You shot back up and got going again, making sure to massage the sunscreen into his back properly before you packed away the stuff back into the car and started your hand-in-hand walk along the boardwalk
You had occasionally indulged in some ice cream or a slushy together before heading through the supermarket closer to where you parked. You hopped into the car- exhausted by the day and head home. You had just packed the groceries away when Formaggio came to pick you up over his shoulder.
“Babe!” You laughed as he purposefully took wide steps to make you swing left and right over his shoulder. “Babe what are you doing?”
He gently put you down on the floor of the bathroom with a smile and were greeted with a filled up bubble bath and lit candles.
“I know you’re not really into this stuff but I thought you’d like to properly soak off the day.”
You turned around and kissed him eagerly, unable to stop yourself. “Join me?” You asked as soon as you broke away.
“Ohhh sweetums, I will.” He growled against your lips. “But I wanna get the pasta dough started for tonight first.”
You nodded eagerly and then slowly sunk into the water for a good soak.
Through the wall you heard your him put on the game for tonight- lucky for him it would be over before dinner, you just knew he liked some noise as he was kneading the dough.
You leaned your arms against the cool edge of the bath, wondering how you ended up with an Italian that liked making food from scratch- hard to imagine the bastard that would call and collect pizza and pasta at the restaurant near the squad base now refused to eat out. Sometimes you wondered if it was about his new identity he was so desperately trying to hide or if he genuinely liked making food from scratch.
The ten minutes of kneading passed and to your surprise Formaggio showed up into the bathroom with an anti pasta plate.
“You never stop eating, do you?” You laughed as he placed the platter on the lid of the empty laundry basket.
“I’m a growing boy, amore. I need to take care of myself.”
He poured you a glass of wine and joined you in the bath with a bottle of beer. One thing quite un-Italian of him but it was a little quirk you’d grown to love. “How’s the game going?”
You asked as you leaned out of the bath just enough to smeer two crackers with the sweet chilli cream cheese.
“Huh? How’d you know?”
You gave him his snack and smiled at his innocent surprise. “I’ve been living with you for four years, darling. I know you just want some noise while you’re kneading. Just like I know you hide the chocolate above the fridge so that I can’t reach it.”
He laughed at that, pulling you to face him on his lap. “And I know you sneak a cigarette after a nightmare but hate the smell of it on your hands so you hold the filter with a clothes peg.”
Your arm slid over one of his shoulders wrapping around him to bring him closer. “And I know you wash my smoking sweatshirt I leave outside once a week.”
“And I know you freeze the bread I bring home sometimes because you can’t eat it, which is bullshit by the way. If you wanna work off some extra calories, I’m sure you and I can figure something out.”
That mischievous grin slid over hid face as he brought his face closer to yours, noses touching as he pulled you close.
“Not in the bathtub, sweetie.” You groaned as he kissed up your shoulder to your neck.
He put his beer bottle down in the corner, not minding your warning so you put your wine glass down on the floor outside the bathtub.
“You’ve been denying me all day, baby. Please, honey. I’m so pent up.”
Oh how badly you wanted to give him what he wanted but if there was one thing you loved giving Formaggio, it was delayed gratification. So just as he had gotten handsy with your backside you stood up and stepped out of the bath.
He let out a strangled whine. “Hoonneey! I asked nicely.”
You sat on the edge of the bath with the towel. “Soon, babe. Trust me.” You gave him a kiss to the temple and got back up.
You picked up the plate he had brought- that was only finished halfway- and popped an olive in your mouth as you left.
He had often called you cruel for the way you teased but it had taken you a long time to realize how much he adored it- the suspense and the gratification made for a combo he couldn’t get enough of. You let him do the cooking for the dinner, sitting on the countertop in shorts with a glass of wine. You’d attempted to help him before and although he didn’t chase you out of the kitchen while he was working- but when you took a close enough step to his work, he littered kisses all over your face, stepping you away with a whispered. “No no no, my turn tonight.”
So you perched yourself on the countertop with your second glass of wine- every few minutes he’d come over, run his hands over the top of your thighs and settling himself between them nearing the end of his prep- alternating between gazing up at you with that stupid grin of his and peering around your waist to look at the soccer score on TV.
You sat cross-legged on the couch with your bowl of food and Formaggio next you as you watched the stupid soap story. Initially you two had laughed at the thought of being so domesticated you finished dinner on time for the soul purpose of having time to watch a stupid show on TV but at the same time it was comforting. To be side-by-side with each other when it seemed like you’d never have reached this point.
It was maybe also a distraction, perhaps a reminder to act normal under your new jobs and new names. His past was buried and burned in the street he had nearly died at and yours was buried under the blown up squad base.
Now you were simply a newlywed couple living a quiet life.
You packed in the dishes into the dishwasher and started the machine before cuddling up under Formaggio’s waiting arm until your show came to another boring end.
You lined kisses up his jaw, feeling low over his abdomen with your fingertips.
“Ohhhh sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re teasing.”
You weren’t- he had waited long enough, so you silently felt him up just a bit more to see how well he’d restrain himself. When he let you do as you pleased without so much as making a move or whining you slipped down between his legs....
“I’m not teasing, sweetheart.”
#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure#Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken#jojo part 5#jojo golden wind#la squadra#lasquadraweek2020#formaggio#formaggio x reader
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Lilith Head Cannons
Just some random headcannons I have about Lilith and her personality and interactions with the other characters. Might do a part two if I can come up with more. Sorry if they're all scrambled I literally was like "thought. Thumbs. Post." Djdjjdjd enjoy. Also!!! If you want to add more to the post feel free and remember that this is not cannon, just my opinion on her character, or really her absence of one.
General Head Cannons
I like to think she also was an artist, especially sculpting and painting. She loved the statues of the ancient Greek Gods and would often try to mimic them to look like her father or her brothers. She was also there for the renaissance and fell in love with the style of the time and would paint beautiful portraits of her family that would hang on the walls. In her room dedicated to her in Devildom, there are paintings of flowers that I would like to believe that she painted.
A master storyteller. She would tell all the brothers stories that she would make up on spot before bed. It started as a cute toddler thing, her babbling nonsense for hours before they all went to sleep, but it soon became a thing that neither of the brothers could fall asleep properly without having a story told to them. Soon the useless babbling told into brave and riveting tales that would take hours to tell, and by then Belphie was guaranteed to be the first to fall asleep.
After the fall, all of the brothers could not go to sleep, not because of persisting nightmares, but because their little sister was not there to tell them a story
She's a great fighter. At first she learned basics in case her overprotective big brothers werent there to protect her, but soon she was on par with some of the top fighters in all of the Celestial Realm. She even managed to knock Lucifer down in mid air combat, despite being the strongest physically. This came in handy when her brothers would get into fights and she would often play middle man and have to physically pull them apart and toss them across the room.
She was the fastest out of all of them. Mammon is canonically the fastest out of the current demon bros, but when him and Lilith played tag, you could barely see anything besides the blur of wings. She has outran him several times and often managed to duck out of lectures from her oldest brother simply by just taking off.
She loved to bake and cook for her brothers a lot and often taught some of the newer apprentices the archangels favorite recipies so that they can prepare it for them. She loved teaching them because she would often fill the waiting time with embarrassing stories about her brothers and the archangels. ("No Luci I dont know where they learned that your drool in your sleep...")
Fiery personality, which was often her savior and her doom. She took no nonsense from anyone, rather they be a random demon, an archangel, her own brothers, or even her father. If she didn't like something that was said or a decision that was being made she would not hesitate to speak her mind no matter what the consequences were.
Insanely smart because of all the times she would spend in the Celestial Realms many libraries. No one would peg her to be the studious one out of the bunch, but she just found all the information fascinating. However, just because she is book smart she lacks common sense and street smarts which proves itself when she placed her hand in fire because "she wanted to see what it felt like". Many people think the scars on her body are from battles, but in reality its because she decided she wanted to be her own personal test subject, no matter how dangerous they would be. ("Hey Luci do you think I could bite through selenite?" "Lilith nO-" )
Asks "Can this kill a human?" a lot and to newer angel's it sounds like shes plotting to take a humans life, but to those used to her antics they would just sigh and respond with a "Yes Lilith" or "No Lilith that can not kill a human."
Snorts when she laughs. Theres no other explanation I just feel that she does. Full belly laughs in private, sweet delicate laugh in public to play up her delicate fragile flower persona that she hated so much.
Just like how I feel like she scrunches her nose up when she gets angry and how she will literally get right up in Lucifers face whenever he pisses her off, no matter what protests she hears from her brothers.
Lucifer
I like to believe that, like Lucifer, she was attracted to the piano. Lucifer would often be playing melodies in the sun room in the Celestial Realm and Lilith would always be the one to find him first. He taught her how to play and even if she just banged on the keys, Lucifer still found her endearing. As she grew older though, the two of them became the best piano players in all of the realm. Didn’t help that she was also regarded as one of the best singers in the entire realm too.
Loved helping Lucifer and Belphie in organizing and categorizing notes from their father that day. She would often make it a game where they would pick their favorite event from that day both as a way to see if they were actually reading the documents being given to them, and as a way to discuss her and Belphies favorite subject with their big brother.
Her and Lucifer were often regarded as the Jewel and Flower of the Celestial Realm. They were both undeniably gorgeous, not that her brothers werent all gorgeous, but her and Lucifer were often pegged as the most beautiful out of all the siblings.
Both put under undeniable amounts of stress and would often seek to reconcile each other because of it. Lucifer was an archangel and their fathers right hand man, and with Lilith being the only daughter fromt heir father and because of that also having a reputation to uphold as being a mediator, the two of them would often find one another in the arms of each other after a particularly bad day, whether that be Lilith just hugging Lucifer and stroking his hair or Lucifer just having Lilith lay on him as she took a nap.
However their titles came with double edged swords. He often was found reprimanding her for possibly tarnishing her reputation because she would often get caught up in her brothers tricks and pranks. They would often butt heads, but as much as he hated to admit it sometimes, most of the time she was right. She was the only one who could wrangle apologies out of him.
Lucifer often treated Lucifer like she was fragile and that really pissed her off. Whenever she would come back with new scratches and bruises he would often reprimand her for tarnishing her beauty and would have to convince their father to not punish her because of it. She hates being treated like that but knows better than to tell Lucifer that he was being overbearing.
Mammon
Mammon was 100% the brother who didnt want a little sister until he got one.
Super cuddly with Mammon. In her early years Mammon was often the one who who she would just snuggle up into and fall asleep on, besides when she went to bed at night with Beel and Belphie. He would just be chilling on a couch after a days worth of work and suddenly would have a tiny baby foot stepping on his cheeks trying to get comfortable on his chest. Soon that's just how they would fall asleep together. Although Mammon would always deny that she wasnt cute whenever his brothers would catch them napping together and how he protectively held her.
Mammon was also the brother to try to use Lilith’s cuteness to woo people and definitely had her in those chest baby carriers whenever he went out of the house.
Lilith was really the only one would dote on him and treat him like a role model and he lived for every second of it. "The Great Mammon" nickname actually came from Lilith whenever she and Mammon would be playing with some dolls whenever she was younger and she called him that after her other brothers refused to play with her.
Mammon and her were the mischief causing duo. Lucifer quickly learned not to leave those two alone after her came home one day and found the two of them covered in flour and melted chocolate after they attempted to make cookies together. The mess was not what concerned Lucifer the most, but rather the fact that the oven looked like it caught on fire in the process.
Her favorite person to play with because he was rough with her and almost as quick as she was, so games like tag and duck duck goose always melted into a high speed chase between the both of them. They were also highly competitive with each other and would often try to one up each other.
Can’t beat the one time Mammon managed to swipe the spell to make animals and decided to make one of toddler Lilith’s funny looking animal drawings an actual animal for her. Both Lucifer and God did not appreciate the sudden swarms of what Lilith dubbed “Platypus” running around the Earth, but God is a weak man and when he tried to chastise Mammon, she started crying about how he was a good older brother for making her drawing come to life and God let them stay.
He was probably the one she was closest to besides Beel and Belphie. Even though she would go to Lucifer for more deeper philosophical conversations, it was rare to see her not in Mammons room after a stressful day. He and Asmo were the dedicated ranting brothers because both of them would hype her up. Mammon was still her favorite person to snuggle up to and nap on. She would never admit that to Belphie but it was true. Mammon was just always so warm and comforting that she would go out of her way to snuggle up and watch movies with him.
Of course she was also the kind of sister who would throw popcorn at him from across the room, steal his clothes while he was showering, and blame petty things like stealing cookies on him. Their fights were never more than senseless bickering that would often lead to them calling each other names, but god forbid if any other angel agreed with the insults. The chances of having a fist connect with their face just increased, especially if it's one of their other brothers.
Levi
Levi probably was the one with the weakest bond with her out of all his brothers. He felt jealous how she would usually seek out the others before she came to him, but on the days where she would seek him out they would waste the entire day together. Levi’s tendency to love games started when he and Lilith would pass time playing chess and checkers. They would constantly challenge each other and every game had new tricks.
Levi always had an obsessive personality and Lilith was always the one to stand up for him and even got him things to help with it, for example he was really into sea creatures at the time and so Lilith made him a clay sculpture of a whale and the boy nearly lost his mind. She never made fun of him.
Most people who knew him as the crazy otaku would never peg him to be the chess mastermind but he could beat Lucifer ten times over from across the House of Lamentation with his eyes closed because of her.
Her and Levi also were master strategists. She and Levi's pranks were so elaborate and so well thought out that Lucifer himself would be caught off guard. Sometimes it would be something as simply as moving everything in Lucifers room an inch to the right so he could stub his toe on his furniture and other times it would be slowly replacing people in the intricate paintings on the ceilings in the Celestial Realms cathedrals with poorly paintings of rubber ducks. Simeon when he came to Devildom still talks about how hes still finding some to this day.
Loves making Levi laugh. She would play whatever games with him to make him laugh. He would actually be the one to bathe baby Lilith because he would constantly make shapes and creatures in the water to entertain her. He treasures those moments in the giant bathtub just making horses and other animals out of water.
As she got older, it went from the bathtub to fountains. Lilith could be found tending the garden and suddenly would feel something wet by her hand and realize that an animal made of water just brushed against her and it always made her smile because it meant that Levi was near.
Because he was in charge of the Earths oceans, he was rarely home. When his father said that they have to keep an eye out on all creatures he didn't realize he meant ALL creatures. On particularly bad days where he was missing his family, he would always contact Lilith. Lilith always had time for Levi and even if she didnt she would make the time. He would tell her all about the marine life and how the water felt and Lilith always made sure to keep track of his discoveries in her various notebooks. Because their time together was often limited, Levi couldnt help but feel a tinge of bitterness towards his brothers.
Satan
Even though Satan never physically met Lilith, she was quite troublesome for him. Whenever Lucifer was about to go on a rampage, Lilith was always the one to calm Lucifer down. Even if the rage was directed at her, she always managed to calm Lucifer down and have him think rationally.
Satan knows the most about humans only because of the distant memories of Lilith talking Lucifers ear off about humans.
Even though he never physically learned to play the piano, he knows how to play both Lucifers and Liliths melodies by heart from hearing them both so much. Whenever Satan is restless he'll often play Liliths melodies on the piano to calm him down.
The only thoughtful gift he ever gave his brothers was a book of all the stories he could remember Lilith telling them. He claims it's because he wanted Lucifer to feel irreconcilable sadness when reading them, but its truly because whenever he was having a flare up of wrath he would go out of his way to find the book and read the stories to calm down.
Even after her death and after he sprang to creation, Lilith was still one of the only people to calm him down.
Asmo
She loved to play princess with Asmo. She would be a little bossy towards him, but he just adored the fact that he was the one who would braid her hair and blush her cheeks.
He always made sure to be front row for her “fashion” shows and as she got older and more interested in art, he was always the first to volunteer for her to practice anatomy.
He would always take the time out of his day to paint her nails all sorts of pretty colors, her favorite shade being lavender. He was in charge of keeping the Celestial Realm beautiful, and he couldnt let one of his fathers treasures be nothing short of beautiful at all times. Lilith didnt mind because it just meant that her and Asmo could vent together.
Asmo and Lilith have a garden in the Celestial Realm. Technically, they're in charge of all the gardens, but the two of them have a very specific garden dedicated just to the two of them. Their father has very strict rules about what flowers grew where in the realm, but Lilith and Asmo's garden had pink and yellow roses, amaryllis's, tulips, blue bonnets, fox gloves, hibiscus's you named them they had them all in their garden. There were several statues made by Lilith and Asmo even risked getting his fingernails dirty in order to install a beautiful stone archway with a bench. It was like their own oasis just for them. They would have afternoon tea in their garden, gossip about the archangels, even talk about how cute some of the angels are turning out as they grew up.
Like Levi, he also rarely got chances to spend time with Lilith, and if they did have time together it was only for about an hour before one of the angels would just whisk her away to finish a task, but sometimes late at night he would find her in the garden reading a book or tending to the plants.
Would design most of her Celestial Realm outfits or put together her outfits for the day. Paint her nails and do her makeup the whole nine yards, seeing as she and her brother were the face of the Celestial Realm.
Beel & Belphie
They were probably the ones who saw Lilith the most. Not "The Delicate Flower of The Celestial Realm" Lilith, but Lilith herself, with her arms freshly covered in open wounds from combat training, dried paint streaked across her forehead, hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and hands shaking and covered in blisters and bandages from her gripping her sword too tight.
They'd be the first of the brothers to know about her training, mainly because they caught her trying to tend to a wound on her shoulder blade and they would help her tend to the wound, mentally cursing Simeon for getting too close to her wings.
She was the most comfortable around those two. She would dress casually around them and would often indulge in her more unladylike tendencies because she knew they wouldnt judge her. In fact, Beel was often the one to lug her completed sculptures around the Celestial Realm and Belphie was always in her studio to watch her paint and sculpt.
Her and Belphie would often spend countless hours under the stars of the Celestial Realm just watching and observing the humans below. Her and Belphie would even disguise themselves to get more up close and personal with them.
Loved lazy afternoons where they would all fall asleep on top of each other with the warmth of the sun on their faces. Especially loved the post nap snacks and baked goods afterwards.
Favorite sparring partner was Beel because he knew he could give her his all and shed be able to strike him down. In fact how the rest of her brothers found out about Lilith being a skilled fighter is when they all rushed into the battle chambers and saw Lilith soar over Beel and then full force swing her leg around onto Beels stomach, sending him plummeting to the ground with a loud crash, followed by Lilith hovering in midair, blood trickling from her lips and her arms covered in fresh bruises. That was the first time she ever landed a hit on Beel and her brothers were there to realize that the Flower of The Celestial Realm was a double edged sword. Soon she was having routine sparring matches with her brothers, Simeon being her coach on how to take them down.
Her, Belphie, and Beel all shared a bedroom. Lilith had her own bedroom with her own bathroom, but spent more of her time with Beel and Belphie because that's where she felt the most comfortable. Belphie especially specialized in making sure she didnt have nightmares that night.
#my works#writing#obey me#obey me shall we date#obeyme#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belpbie#lucifer#mammon#levi#satan#asmo#beel#belphie#obey me lilith
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Bun in the Oven
This is an abandoned plot point from my A/B/O verse. It ended up not fitting in the continuity of the fic, but it’s been kicking around my hard drive for months so I thought I’d pull it out and finish it up.
No prior knowledge of my A/B/O verse is needed, it’s just a deleted scene and strays pretty far from the plot of the other story. Although if you have read my other fic you may recognize a few bits that ended up getting reworked and used for other things
Tags: Past Rape/Non-Con
Read on AO3
Another successful contract finished, and Geralt headed to Novigrad. It wasn’t a city he frequented often, but there were a great many things to look forward to there: an inn with a proper bed, a tailor for a new set of clothing, and (more likely than not) Dandelion.
His friend enjoyed the city, and if he wasn’t in Oxenfurt, stirring up trouble at his alma mater, he was most likely in Novigrad (when he wasn’t with the Witcher, that was). They’d not seen each other since Geralt had headed north the previous fall, and after spending the winter in Kaer Morhen he’d returned south and had yet to stumble across Dandelion.
Since fate was misbehaving, he’d have to give it a bit of a nudge.
Once in the city, he easily found the inn where the bard was staying, although he was surprised to be told that he hadn’t been seen in several days. No matter, thought the Witcher, he’s most likely in a creative funk, only allowing prostitutes in to see him. He would let Geralt in though, he always did, and the Witcher could regale him with stories of monsters, and Dandelion will fill him in on whatever absurd gossip was going around at the time. The poet would also know a tailor where he could get a new jacket, and then, perhaps, they’d head out on the Path together.
A coin tossed at the innkeeper got him the location of Dandelion’s room, and an order to tell his friend that he only had a day left on the coin he’d paid so far. Geralt nodded, handed over another day’s rent, and walked upstairs.
He pushed open the door to Dandelion’s room without thinking, because he never bothered to knock, the worst that could happen was finding Dandelion in bed with some woman, but he was caught off guard by a shoe hitting him in the face.
Geralt stumbled backwards, swearing and cursing, bringing his hand to his nose. It seemed Dandelion’s bedfellow hadn’t taken well to being intruded upon.
But when he looked up, Dandelion was alone, standing in the middle of the room with his other shoe in hand, dressed in a silken robe that hung loosely around him. “Dandelion-”
“Geralt?” The shoe dropped from his hand, hitting the ground as he stared at Geralt in shock. It seemed that the Witcher wasn’t the person he had been expecting, but somehow he didn’t seem exactly pleased to see him.
Geralt took a step forward. Dandelion took two steps back. “What is it?” he asked. The room reeked of perfumed oils and candles, several different ones all layered on top of one another, competing for attention.
“Dandelion?” he asked again.
The bard was just staring at him, his eyes wide with fright. “Ger- Geralt- I- You should leave.”
“No.”
The bard’s pupils were blown wide, as though frightened, but the tremor in his hands made Geralt think more of someone coming down from a drug high. “What happened?” Geralt asked.
“I- I-” Dandelion shook his head. “I’m a whore.”
Geralt’s first thought was to say that everyone knew of Dandelion’s promiscuity, but something told him that wouldn’t be well received at the moment. He slowly removed his swords, hanging them from a peg by the door, and continued to study Dandelion in silence.
A strange scent seemed to be wafting from Dandelion, but he couldn’t quite place it, not under all the other smells in the room. It smelled almost like sex, and Geralt asked, “Are you in heat?”
“I was.”
That caught him off guard. Dandelion took enough suppressants to tranquilize a rhinoceros, for him to have been in heat- “Did something happen?”
“I was tricked. I- I took poppy instead of my suppressants.”
“But you aren’t in heat now?” Geralt asked slowly.
Dandelion’s entire demeanor suddenly changed. Bending over he grabbed the shoe he’d dropped earlier and hurled it at Geralt. “Get out!” he shouted, his face twisted with anger.
The shoe bounced harmlessly off Geralt’s chest. “No.”
The bard lunged at him, his fists banging against Geralt’s chest as he shouted, something about Alphas and their innate cruelty, he was speaking too quickly for Geralt to catch it.
But with Dandelion as close as he was, Geralt realized what he was smelling. Shit.
“Hit me again,” said quietly. “I mean it, Dandelion, if it will help-”
“Damn it, Geralt! Protect yourself!” Dandelion swung at him again, but he barely felt it.
“You can’t provoke me into attacking you!”
“You’re an Alpha! That’s what you do!”
“If you want someone to kill you, you’ll have to find someone else,” Geralt said quietly. “Lambert perhaps, he hates you enough.” It didn’t make Dandelion laugh.
“I don’t need you to kill me, just- just this parasite-” He gestured to his stomach. “I thought you might stab it, actually.”
“You’re pregnant.”
It was as if Geralt’s words took the wind out of him, and Dandelion collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. “Yes,” he said weakly, then began to sob.
Geralt sat beside him slowly, studying his body language for any sign that he was uncomfortable with the Witcher’s presence. But he seemed to have lost the earlier anger, settling instead into loathing and self pity.
“What happened?”
Dandelion looked up, and in such close quarters Geralt could see the lines of exhaustion on his face. “What the fuck do you think, Geralt? I was sold poppy instead of my medication and- well, I was attacked.” A shiver ran through him and he pulled his robe more tightly around himself. “I- I- Geralt they took me somewhere, to their house or something, I honestly don’t know, but I do know it was the worst time of my life, and then, on top of it all, by the time I got away I- I suppose it was too late.”
“Have you seen a doctor-”
“No,” Dandelion snapped. “I don’t need one to know I’m pregnant-”
“I meant- were you harmed-”
“A few bruises was all, they’ve faded.” Dandelion rubbed his face. “Childbirth is hell on male Omegas, Geralt, did you know that? We don’t have a proper birth canal, so it just sort of rips open.”
“I thought about giving it to Yennefer,” Dandelion sneered. “But she doesn’t want just any child, she wants one out of her own cunt.” Geralt doubted he’d ever actually considered it, it just seemed to be someone he could be angry about (which he deserved at the moment).
“We can find an abortionist.”
“I tried,” grumbled Dandelion. “They’ll sell an Omega nightshade but not an abortifactant, did you know that?”
Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Did you buy nightshade?”
“It’s in the dresser,” said the bard calmly. “I was too much of a coward to take it.”
Geralt’s hands itched to pull him into a hug, but he knew better than to grab him. One of us has to remain rational, he decided, and it won’t be Dandelion, understandably.
He bit his lip and studied Dandelion. It was hard to make anything out with the loose robe hiding his form. “How far along are you?”
“Two months. I- I’ve been living here- thank the gods my half brother gave me a bit of coin the last time I saw him and I hadn’t spent it yet, otherwise I wouldn’t even have managed to stay here.” Geralt’s chest twinged at the thought of Dandelion being alone and vulnerable for so long.
“I’m an Alpha,” Geralt said quietly. “I can get you an abortion, if that’s what you want.”
“Of course that’s what I fucking want!”
“It’s getting late,” Geralt said softly. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. May I stay with you?”
“Please do,” Dandelion whispered pathetically. “I- don’t leave.”
“I won’t.” Geralt swallowed, knowing what he needed to do. “May I look you over?”
Dandelion eyed him warily. He knew there were horrors in the bard’s past, something to do with his status as an Omega, but he didn’t ask about them. It was understandable that Dandelion wouldn’t want anyone - let alone an Alpha, to touch him.
“You smell of pain,” he explained gently.
“I- my body is ripping apart, Geralt. Male Omegas aren’t meant to have pleasant pregnancies.”
Geralt nodded. “I know,” he said gently. “And I know there are treatments that meant to be done, and I suppose you haven’t done them, so I’d like to make sure you aren’t falling apart on me.”
Dandelion nodded slowly. “Alright,” he whispered. “I- I haven’t looked, I- I just know, well, there was blood the other day…”
Geralt stood. “Robe off,” he said. “Lay on your back.”
Dandelion shrugged it aside and Geralt immediately knew why he’d been wearing it. His stomach had only a small swell, since the baby wasn’t too far along, but his nipples were angry and red.
Geralt winced sympathetically.
Dandelion squeezed his eyes shut as he laid back, letting Geralt rub his hand over his stomach, then to his hips.
When Geralt pushed his legs apart, he whined. “Easy,” the Witcher soothed, rubbing his side.
“Fuck it all,” moaned Dandelion. “Just kill me.”
“No, Dandelion, I won’t hurt you.”
Dandelion’s entire crotch was red and inflamed, more than he’d been expecting, and the strange patterning in the inflammation made it look as though fingers had rubbed over it. “What did you put on yourself?” Geralt asked sharply.
“An herbal mixture,” the bard said. “I- I was panicking, I thought it might help...”
“I think you’re allergic to it.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I’m going to wipe you down,” Geralt said.
Dandelion groaned but didn’t argue.
Geralt found a basin of water and a rag and brought them back to the bed. He dipped the rag in the water then carefully pressed it against Dandelion’s thigh. He wiped him down as quickly as he could,
“I fought a Katakan last week,” Geralt said, hoping to distract Dandelion.
“That’s a vampire? Isn’t it?”
“Lesser Vampire,” Geralt explained. “It had been terrorizing a small village to the north of here.” He lifted Dandelion’s cock, peering under it to see the inflammation between his balls and anus. He appeared to be mostly intact and there was no sign of blood, so Geralt set the cloth aside and stood.
“Did you kill it?”
“What else would I do with it?”
Dandelion wrapped himself back up in his robe, shivering slightly. “I’d like details,” he muttered.
“Sleep,” Geralt pleaded. “And then I’ll tell you more once we’ve gotten you to a doctor.”
#jaskier#dandelion#geralt#geralt of rivia#Witcher Fanfiction#Witcher Fanfic#The Witcher#Wiedźmin#My Writing
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Blue Eyes Part 6
Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.
Part 6: Ella grieves the loss of what she once had. Tommy tries to burn any remnants of it.
“She won’t eat.” Ada came downstairs and placed the untouched plate of food on the table. It had been three days since Tommy caught Ella and Alfie together. The Shelby girl refused to leave her old bedroom. “She won’t even open the door.”
Her brothers were all sat in the kitchen, Polly putting on the kettle. Tommy was on his third cigarette of the morning and he hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. “Are you pleased with yourself?” Their aunt put her hands on her hips and glared at Tommy.
“Pol, not now.” He muttered and rubbed his eyes. He was still trying to get the image of Alfie kissing his sister out of his mind. Trying to forget the sound of her crying every night in the room next to his. It made him conflicted, pulling him in two different trains of thought. He wanted to apologize and yet he wanted to scold her for being so careless and lying.
“You could’ve taken her aside and asked her about it.” His aunt ignored his weary request. "You didn't have to have her followed. I'm sure it would've gone better if you just asked about her in private.
“So she could just lie to me again?” Tommy retorted sharply. "Pol, I gave her plenty of opportunities to admit it to me and she just looked me right in the eyes and lied."
“I’m just upset you didn’t fucking shoot him,” Arthur spoke up. "Fucking deserves it didn't he?"
Tommy wanted to say yes, he did deserve it, but there was a matter of policy. “He didn’t know. Was just as surprised as I was when he found out. If he does it again I will shoot him.” He promised.
“What in the fucking world does she see in him?” John asked in disbelief. He’d nearly keeled over when he heard what happened from Arthur. Never in a million years did he expect it, even after what happened at Tommy's wedding. "I mean honestly? He's just a fucking psychopath, ain't he? She's not crazy enough to fall for someone like that."
Ada leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe you should all be a bit kinder to her. She was hysterical when she came home.” She scolded her brothers. “Maybe she knows him better than you lot do.”
“Oh, pardon me, Ada, shall I tell you ‘bout the time he shot Billy Kitchen and had me nicked?” Arthur retorted. “’Cause the entire fucking time I was thinking, ‘what a nice bloke he is, yeah, wish he’d kiss me fucking baby sister!’.”
“Don’t speak to me that way!” Ada snapped.
Suddenly, Tommy held a hand out. “Sh, shut up!” He smacked his brother upside the head when he wouldn't hush. “Shut your fucking mouths and listen.” The kitchen went quiet and finally, everyone heard what he did. Footsteps on the roof. John and Arthur withdrew their guns, thinking it was an enemy or some intruder, but Tommy knew better. “She’s making a run for it.” He jumped up and rushed out of the apartment. “Ella!” He came out onto the street and caught his sister traversing across the top of Watery Lane. He cursed himself for teaching her how to escape via the roof. “Get down here now.”
His sister ignored him, instead carefully picking her way over the shingles towards the back of the building. There, she had enough wires, balconies, and window ledges to safely make it down.
Tommy cursed and went back inside, pushing past his family and running through the apartment out to the back alleyway. He caught sight of her disappearing through the narrow alley, hidden by clothes and sheets on laundry lines. “El!” He shouted and chased her.
It was a pretty even match. Both of them knew Watery lane like the back of their hand, Tommy was fit but Ella was petite and could slip easily between the gaps of the cramped buildings. Still, Tommy was always a bit sharper and he took a shorter way to cut her off.
Ella screeched to a halt and faced off with him, breathing heavily from running. “Tommy, I’m going back to London.” She warned in a low voice. “You can’t keep me here against me will.”
“You think I’m trying to punish you?” Tommy made sure he was close enough to grab her if she decided to take off again. “I’m doing this for your own fucking good, El.”
“Really?” She scoffed. “Is that what you call it?”
“You’re playing with fire, you don’t even know.” He cleared his throat to catch his breath. “Do you know what he would’ve done if he found out and I wasn’t there?” He demanded.
Ella’s chest tightened when he even hinted at the idea. “He would never hurt me.”
“You being so naïve tells me that you’re not ready to live alone in London. Now he could have people looking for you. You’re staying here. I'm making sure he doesn't get revenge for what you did to him.”
“He would never hurt me!” She repeated herself louder. “You don’t know him like I do, he cares about me.”
“Didn’t look like it to me!” Tommy raised his voice to meet her volume.
“The only reason he left was because of my family. Because of you! The one thing in my life I can’t choose. But I’m going to make it up to him. I never want to see you again. Not after the shit you pulled.”
“If you go back there, he’ll kill you.” Tommy was so sure of it. Someone who deceived Alfie Solomons didn’t have a good chance of survival. He'd only narrowly avoided such a fate so many times.
“He’s not some monster.” Her hands curled into fists. “He was kind and sweet and for the first time in my fucking life I had someone listen to me.” Tears formed again in her ice-blue eyes. “He listened to me and he cared about me more than you lot ever did. A-And I lied to him, but I know he still cares for me.”
Tommy could see in his sister’s eyes that she truly believed the words she spoke. The pain on her face was undeniable. She truly had fallen for that man. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
“I’m not staying here.” Ella asserted again. “I have a life in London. And if Alfie never wants to see me again, then so be it. But I’m not rotting away in Birmingham. I’d rather be heartbroken in London.”
He couldn’t imagine the weeks of hell he’d have to go through if he attempted to keep her there. Endless amounts of escape attempts crossed his mind. It sounded like a nightmare. His sister was an adult. Ada and Polly wouldn’t let him get away with locking her in her room for the rest of her life no matter how much he might want to. “Stay at Arrow House for a week.” He tried to bargain.
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Just until I know that you’re safe.”
“No.”
“Ella…” He groaned and raised his head to the small sliver of gray sky poking out between the gaps in the buildings. “Just one week and I’ll pay your rent in London for the rest of your life.”
She pursed her lips. “And I can have the dapple whenever I visit Warwickshire.”
“Fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Tommy was getting used to the stares he got when he walked through Camden Town. But this time, it was as if he’d grown three heads. Everyone stopped to watch him walk towards the bakery. He did his best to ignore it and went straight for Ollie who was by the heavy double doors.
The curly-haired man looked up. A nervous look crossed his face. “Alfie’s not seeing anyone right now.”
To say the Jewish gangster was in a foul mood was an understatement. After his heart was broken, Alfie raged through the bakery. He shouted at anyone who even remotely stepped in his path, threatened anyone slacking off, and knocked out at least five men. No one knew what had set the man off, but it had something to do with the Blinders because he kept mumbling about ‘fucking Shelbys’ under his breath.
“I don’t care,” Tommy replied. He was angry with the man as well. Angry that he’d been so foolish with his sister, traipsing about London with her on his arm. Putting a target on her back for the Italians, the Titanic, anyone who decided Alfie Solomons needed to be knocked down a few pegs.
Ollie chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded slowly. “Let me ask, wait out here.”
Alfie had barked out a laugh when his assistant said Tommy was waiting outside. A storm formed in his eyes when he allowed him to pass through. Ollie searched the Blinder and let him into the office.
“Morning, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy took a seat across from the man’s desk.
“Cut the shit, Tommy, whatdya want?” Alfie demanded. “M’very fucking busy.”
He calmly took out a cigarette and lit it. “My sister lied to the both of us. I understand you’re upset. But I want to know that her life isn’t in danger.”
“She’s a fucking Shelby innit she? Her life is always in danger.” Alfie didn’t want to even speak her name. He felt so scorned and yet, he couldn’t get the image of her out of his head. To think only her last name kept him away from her.
“I was talking about you.”
He scoffed. “Mate, you don’t hafta worry ‘bout me, right, ‘cause I never want to see her again. She ain’t worth the trouble, already wasted enough of me time on her.” He tried convincing himself that everything they shared was nothing more than a farce. It was meaningless. But he was tormented with the memories of her smiling at him, speaking tenderly to him, making him laugh, and touching him without flinching. How could she appear so genuine when she was keeping such a big lie?
“Then we’re settled.” Tommy stood and took another drag of his cigarette. “As long as you stay away from her, we won’t have an issue.”
Alfie stared off into space, his fingers grazing over his beard. “Just fuck off, Tom, I’ve had fucking enough of your gypsy family.” He snarled.
Tommy lingered just to remind the man that he would return if so much as a finger was laid on Ella. “Don’t make me come back.”
That was enough to make him snap. He rose with such a fury, his hands slamming down on the desk. “You fucking threatening me?” He shouted. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you right now, mate!”
“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you the other day,” Tommy replied coolly. “You’re lucky me brothers weren’t with me because they wouldn't have even let you get a word in.”
Alfie’s eyes narrowed and he pulled out his gun from his waistband. With a click, he pointed it at the Blinder’s forehead.
Tommy merely flicked his cigarette to the ground and calmly walked back over to the desk. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the barrel of the gun. “Do it.” He prompted casually. “Then she’ll finally see what a fucking monster you are. She’ll never go back to you.”
Fire raged in Alfie. He wanted so desperately to pull the trigger. His shoulders heaved and he glared right at the man. But then Ella’s touch returned to him. The way she clung to him, buried in the crook of his neck. What she said to him when they swayed together in the crowded club.
I want my family to like you.
Alfie’s hand shook as he slowly lowered the gun. No matter how angry he was with her, he could never do that to her. “Get out of me fucking office.” He growled.
Tommy waited for a breath before turning and leaving without another word.
~~~~~~~~
Ella returned to London after a week of staying at Warwickshire. She didn’t enjoy the little break from the city air. She was still thinking about how she’d hurt Alfie. How there was little to nothing she could do to make it up to him. She attempted calling him late at night when no one was awake in the large estate. But he never answered.
When she returned to her apartment, she felt lost. The established life she had made for herself in the city was suddenly lacking the appeal it once had. She realized she didn’t have a place anywhere anymore. Not in Birmingham, not in Warwickshire, not in London. Alfie had made her feel so at home and so assured in herself as a person. But she had lied. Now she felt fake and undeserving of anything. Certainly, she didn’t deserve Alfie’s affection. He had trusted her and she had taken that trust and tossed it aside.
It kept her up at night, her conscience admonishing her for being so cruel to a man that had treated her so well. But her heart still longed for him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him even if there was little to no chance that they would ever be together again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alcohol was a vital medication for Shelbys. The cure for anything. Everything from general pain, headache, insomnia, to heartaches. Ella told herself she would never turn out to be the drunkard her father was. The angry man who she only had memories of how he always stunk of gin and whiskey. She never drank like her brothers did. Usually only accepting a glass or two when they were celebrating. The rest of them seemed to turn to liquor at every viable opportunity.
Now, she knew why. It alleviated so many of her pain. So every night after work, she kept a bottle of wine close. Every weekend she went out to the club with friends. Every morning, she woke up with a massive hangover that she was slowly growing used to. Every morning, she wanted to cry when she saw herself in the mirror. The face of a woman who had shattered the only man she loved.
To cope, she simply found comfort at the bottom of a bottle.
Ada became worried and called every night and every morning to check in with her, making sure she arrived safely home and hadn’t drunk herself to death. She voiced her concerns to her brothers but they couldn’t get close enough to talk with Ella. Polly tried showing up multiple times but her niece was always out.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It all came to a head one Saturday night, but no Shelby was there to save her from herself and the world around her.
“El, think you’ve had enough.” Even Amelia, who was used to partying, was growing uneasy from her friend’s reckless behavior.
Ella ignored her and took the glass of gin from the bartender. “Nonsense,” she giggled and shrugged her friend off. “It’s still so early, we've got the entire night ahead of us!”
Amelia’s forehead wrinkled. “El…”
She threw back the drink, hardly affected by the bitter taste anymore. “I’m going to go dance, don’t wait up.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alcohol was a vital medication for Shelbys. The cure for anything. Everything from general pain, headache, insomnia, to heartaches. Ella told herself she would never turn out to be the drunkard her father was. The angry man who she only had memories of how he always stunk of gin and whiskey. She never drank like her brothers did. Usually only accepting a glass or two when they were celebrating. The rest of them seemed to turn to liquor at every viable opportunity.
Now, she knew why. It alleviated so many of her pain. So every night after work, she kept a bottle of wine close. Every weekend she went out to the club with friends. Every morning, she woke up with a massive hangover that she was slowly growing used to. Every morning, she wanted to cry when she saw herself in the mirror. The face of a woman who had shattered the only man she loved.
To cope, she simply found comfort at the bottom of a bottle.
Ada became worried and called every night and every morning to check in with her, making sure she arrived safely home and hadn’t drunk herself to death. She voiced her concerns to her brothers but they couldn’t get close enough to talk with Ella. Polly tried showing up multiple times but her niece was always out.
~~~~~~~~~~~`
It all came to a head one Saturday night, but no Shelby was there to save her.
“El, think you’ve had enough.” Even Amelia, who was used to partying, was growing uneasy from her friend’s reckless behavior.
Ella ignored her and took the glass of gin from the bartender. “Nonsense,” she giggled and shrugged her friend off. “It’s still so early!”
Amelia’s forehead wrinkled. “El…”
She threw back the drink. “I’m going to go dance, don’t wait up.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alfie did not like going to clubs anymore. He’d gone back to despising the loud, crowded spaces. It reminded him of the times he would take Ella dancing. How they would have intimate conversations on the dance floor, the way she clung to him while they swayed.
He grumpily shoved his way through the crowds to get to the bar. He had debts that were owed by the owner. Now he was in a terrible mood that he had to be there himself instead of sending one of his men. The last time he’d done that, the owner threatened them. So Alfie had to go himself.
Ella was oblivious to the Jewish gangster’s entrance. She was dancing with a man who was a complete stranger to her, but simply the first open arms. She was having the time of her life, buzzed on the gin she’d consumed, and so happy to be distracted by her heartache.
But she wasn’t too keen on the man letting his hands wander. She was just clear-headed enough to push him away.
“Fuck off.” She slurred and tried to pull away from the man.
“C’mon, love.” He kept an iron grip on her and grabbed at her.
“Ow, stop!” She shouted and stomped down on his foot with her heel. “I said fuck off!”
He cursed and raised a hand to backhand her across the face.
Unfortunately, his wrist was caught by Alfie Solomons. The gangster looked livid with the seedy man trying to assault the woman.
Ella froze and for a moment thought she had drunkenly conjured up an image of Alfie.
“Mate, I suggest you fucking step away from the lady.”
The man went a little pale at the sight of the notorious baker. “Mr. Solomons…I weren’t…she started it.” He stammered.
Not looking amused, Alfie laughed. “Oh fucking hell, you should be thanking me for stepping in when I did, mate. That girl right there was ‘bout to fucking gut you like a pig. Yeah, keeps a blade on her. Then, ‘course, I couldn’t help you after that, wouldn’t be Kosher, would it?”
“I-” The man backed away with wide eyes. “I’m sorry…” He spluttered before disappearing into the crowd of dancers.
Alfie and Ella stood face to face on the dance floor. She was swaying slightly from the alcohol.
“You need to be careful, love.”
“Oh fuck off.” She spat back at him. “Don’ pretend like you’re some knight in fuckin’ shinin’ armor.” Her accent became thicker and she was only another drink from being completely incomprehensible or reverting back to Shelta.
“You’ve been drinking too much.” He grabbed her by the upper arm but she fought him off.
“So what? Can do whatever I want.” She retorted and nearly fell backward when she tried to rip away from him. “M’just a fuckin’ Shelby to you anyway. You never cared ‘bout me.”
Alfie rolled his eyes. “C’mere, I’m taking you home.” He’d deal with the club owner and the bartender who had over-served Ella, later.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere with you!” She ripped her arm away from him. “You stand there, thinkin’ you can boss me ‘round?”
“Not arguing with you here.” He asserted firmly and continued ushering her to the door, ignoring her attempts to shove him off. Eventually, he got her out of the club and onto the street. She scratched his hand a few times but he felt like she was going very easy on him.
Still, she got one more shove in, but it backfired. Ella leaned forward too far and toppled over. She caught herself before she face-planted into the curb but scraped up her hands. A drunken mess, she sat on the ground for a moment, holding her scratched up palms in front of her.
Alfie sighed and held out a hand to help her up. Yes, he was still upset but decided he’d feel worse if he left her there.
Tears sprung from Ella’s blue eyes as she slapped his hand away. “G’off.” She snapped and tried to get up by herself. “Don’t need you…don’t need my bloody family…don’t need any man.” She staggered to her feet and pointed at Alfie. “You. You just turned away from me like I weren’t worth anythin’ to you.”
His brow wrinkled at the accusation. “S’cuse me, but did you or did you not lie to me?” He retorted.
“What’d you want me to tell you, aye?” She held out her arms wide. “I’m a fuckin’ Shelby? I’m a gypsy girl? What difference does it make? Thought you liked me for me!”
Her words were like thin blades of ice, stabbing through Alfie’s chest and piercing right through the armor he’d formed over his heart. He stared at her and merely listened, taking on the verbal abuse without so much as flinching. But deep down he felt like he was being brought to his knees.
Ella wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her makeup smudged and she looked to be in some state. Her dress was dirty from her tumble and a trickle of blood began to travel down the lines in her palms and drip from the tips of her fingers. She emulated the wild girl she once was. The Shelby girl who always was quick to roughhouse with her brothers to prove herself. Now she was proving her worth to Alfie. She was proving how hurt she was.
“Amelia told me all ‘bout you ‘fore we even spoke.” She continued on. Her voice thick with tears and words slurring from the gin. “But still I talked to you because I saw somethin’ different. I saw the man behind that fuckin’ reputation. Because I know people think me brothers are monsters. But I know that they aren’t. You’re the same fuckin’ way. You want people to fear you but deep down, you’re just as fuckin’ scared as the rest of us.” She approached him, invading his space, and getting right up to his face. Her blue eyes narrowed as she glared at him dead on. “You’re afraid of dying just like everyone. ‘N you’re afraid of people forgettin’ the name, Alfie Fuckin’ Solomons.”
Alfie wondered if he’d forgotten how to breathe or Ella had somehow stolen the air right out of his lungs. For a split second, he wasn’t sure whether to be angry or to apologize. Apologize for being lied to? He scoffed at his own thoughts and shook his head. “Your brothers are monsters, love.” He sealed himself off from any feelings. Numbed himself up like an anesthetic and shoved away all the desperate thoughts he had for her. “And you’re their kin, ain’t ya? You lie just like them.”
Ella’s jaw clenched and she gritted her teeth. The alcohol in her system wasn’t doing her any favors and shut off any rational thoughts. She slapped him hard.
He should’ve been expecting it. After all, she’d been denied hitting the man in the club and Alfie was winding her up. But it was still another sharp blow to his ego and his heart. He couldn’t even react.
She spat at his feet and cursed at him in Shelta before storming away.
So he watched. Watched the only woman he ever loved walking away from him. Just like he had walked away from her. Her slap still stinging his cheek as she disappeared into the night.
Disgruntled, angry at the world, and possibly under some gypsy curse, Alfie decided it was a good time to go home.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ada had the only spare key to Ella’s apartment. After the run-in with Alfie and Tommy, the Shelby woman had to use it much more often. She received a frantic call the next morning from Amelia saying she had no clue where Ella went the night before.
So, Ada walked over at the break of dawn and used the key to let herself in. She found a few dishes shattered across the kitchen floor and it caused her stomach to drop in fear. Had her sister been robbed?
She ran upstairs shouting for Ella. Down the hall, the door creaked open. Her younger sister stood in the doorway in a complete mess.
The rough night lingered on Ella like bad perfume. Her hair was still tangled in some pins, her hands were stained with dried blood that she hadn’t cared to tend to, and her entire face was blotchy from crying. Dark circles lingered under her bloodshot eyes and she still stunk of gin.
“El…” Ada sighed partly in relief. At least she knew her sister was somewhat okay, albeit a little worse for the wear. “What happened to you? Amelia called me in such a fright.”
“Sh, don’t talk so loud.” Ella closed her eyes and ushered her sister into the darker bedroom. She collapsed on her bed and moaned. “Ada, I feel like me whole life is falling apart.”
Ada frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened last night?”
“Alfie was at the club.” There was no use in lying anymore. She was too tired and didn’t care what her family knew anymore. It didn’t matter as far as she was concerned.
The mention of the Jewish gangster’s name was enough for Ada to need a seat. “Good God…”
“I got so angry.” Her younger sister continued, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “I just-I want to hate him but I can’t. I cared so much ‘bout him and I thought he felt the same way.” Fresh tears began to flow and she hiccupped helplessly. “Ada, it hurts so much.” She wailed.
Ada’s shoulders fell and she stood up to comfort her sister. “Sh, c’mon.” She sat on the bed and let Ella rest her head in her lap. “I know you’re hurting. I wish I could make it better for you.”
“I want him back.” It was a harsh realization to arrive at.
Her older sister gently stroked back Ella’s dark hair. She had said the exact same words when she lost Freddie. The world was falling apart around her as she gripped onto Polly for support. The fierce denial had driven her into a manic state. ‘I want him back! I want him back! Bring him back!’ She had screamed and cried for hours.
Heartbreak was the most painful emotion. Ada knew her sister was naïve when it came to love, but there was so much hurt in her eyes. What she was feeling wasn’t a little crush. Whatever she had with Alfie was something she hadn’t experienced before.
“I never asked to be born into this fucking family.” Ella closed her eyes. Her entire body was aching and exhausted from the night before.
“I know, none of us did.” Ada bit her lip. “Let’s get your hands cleaned up.” She suggested and prompted her to sit up. “I’ll put the kettle on too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ada called this morning.” Polly walked into her nephew’s office with some documents to sign.
“About Ella?” Tommy knew about Ella’s downward spiral. But she wouldn’t speak to him about anything but day-to-day things.
How’s Charlie, Tom?
How’s the missus, Tom?
Get that new filly in, Tom?
Her words were detached over the phone, so much so that the pleasant conversation made him worry more. He would much rather her scream and rant at him about what he’d done. That way he’d know that it was still his sister on the other end of the telephone line.
Tommy wasn’t about to apologize for stepping in. He could forgive Ella for lying to him, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to go hopping on back to Alfie.
“She’s hurting,” Polly replied when she set down the papers in front of him. “But I think you know that.”
Tommy studied the contracts but the words didn’t register. “Not sure there’s anything I can do ‘bout that, Pol.” He reached for a cigarette, tossing the papers to the side to sign later. “She’s facing the consequences of her actions.”
His aunt raised an eyebrow and looked disappointed. “Do you think you would’ve reacted better if she came to you and told you the truth? Because I’m fairly certain you’d’ve done the same damn thing.”
His icy eyes flicked up to her. “Are you going to tell me I should allow her to see that man?” His voice was steady but challenging.
“That’s not what I said.” Polly was very good at squaring off with her nephews. They often liked to go toe to toe with her, stupidly forgetting how strong-willed she was. Out of all of them, Tommy probably pressed her the most. “But you can’t blame her for trying to find someone. I’m sure she feels lonely.”
Tommy cringed at the idea of Alfie keeping his sister company. “I’ve spoken to him and he doesn’t want to see her again. That’s the end of that.” He insisted firmly. “I’m done speaking about it.”
But Polly wasn’t done. “I’m well aware you think you know everything but I was put on this planet to remind you that you don’t. What has Alfie Solomons done that you haven’t?”
“Polly,” Tommy spoke in a warning tone and eyed her with a cold look. “I said I’m done speaking about it.”
She sighed in exasperation. “One of these days, you’re going to push that girl so far that she’ll never want to come back to this family. And I hope you’re happy when you’ve finally done it. This family needs to stay together, otherwise, we have nothing.” She jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t forget that you’re nothing without your family.”
Tommy allowed her to walk out with the last word. He knew she was right; he would never be where he was now without his family by his side. But that didn’t excuse Ella’s behavior. He just hoped she would get over Alfie soon and he would forget about it ever happening.
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hiii~✨hope you’re having a good day/night !!can you do taeyong with a praise kink? you can add whatever else you think would fit cus i’m not good at coming up with that lolz. btw i love you’re writing it’s so good
Awww thank you bby 🥺💖 And thank you for the request! I hope you like it!
⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Taeyong, fem!dom!reader, pegging, praise kink, fingering (male recieving), he also rides you, but that's really the pegging part.
Good Boy
You cheered loudly with the rest of the NCTzens as NCT 127 finished their stage for Kick It. After they left the stage, you were led by a security guard to meet them in their dressing room. The NCTzens that noticed you leaving waved to you and asked you to tell the boys what a good job they had done tonight. You smiled and waved back at the friendly fans, blowing kisses jokingly every once in a while.
You and your loving boyfriend, Taeyong, had gone public about 7 months ago after a year of dating. It took a hell of a lot of convincing for SM to be alright with it but they let you do it after seeing how dedicated both of you were to your relationship and realized you two wouldn't be breaking up anytime soon. The fans were a little iffy about you at first, thinking you were doing it for publicity or money, but after seeing you in so many VLives with him and seeing how genuinely happy both of you were, most of them started supporting you. Of course there were those people who sent hate, claiming you were taking their precious Taeyong away from them, but they don't really bother you that much.
You knocked on the door to their changing room and waited for an okay to go in. It was a changing room after all, and you were sure they wouldn't want you walking in on them changing. It had accidentally happened once and you didn't want it to happen again. You heard shuffling in the room and a second later Donghyuk cracked the door open to see who it was. A smile immediately lit up his face as he saw you standing outside the door.
"NOONA!" He yelled happily before jumping into your arms and hugging you like a koala bear, making you wrap your arms around his waist to hold him up with a laugh.
"Hello to you too!" After standing still for a few moments to see if he would let go, you just decided to walk into the room and kick the door closed behind you with a laugh as he continued to hold onto you. You heard the other members laugh before someone walked over to you.
"Donghyuk, let go of her! Other people want to hug her too!" Johnny said through light chuckles. You felt Donghyuk's lips pout against your neck before unwrapping his legs from your waist and sulking to the couch. All of the boys were changed out of their performing clothes and were working on getting out of their make-up. You waved to everyone else before greeting your boyfriend with a kiss. A few of the boys teasingly 'oooOOOooh'ed while Mark, Johnny, and Haechan made gagging noises from behind you. You rolled your eyes as you pulled away from Taeyong. He chuckled at their antics with red ears before giving you a light kiss on the cheek.
"Hey baby. Did you enjoy the show?" He asked, looking up at you from his seat as his make-up artists removed his make-up.
"Of course I did, you all did amazing! A few NCTzens I passed on my way here wanted me to tell you they all loved your performance." You told them as you smiled at Taeyong through the mirror. Your boyfriend smiled brightly and the rest of the boys 'whoop'ed and cheered for themselves.
"I was your favorite though, right?" Taeyong said as he leaned his head back to look up at you once his make-up was removed. You teasingly hissed in uncertainty.
"Ooh, I don't know. Jaehyun did look pretty good tonight." You heard Jaehyun laugh from his seat before sexily pushing his hair back and winking at you with a dorky smile through the mirror. Taeyong pouted with a whine and tugged at your sleeve to bring your attention back to him. You laughed loudly and leaned down to give him a kiss.
"I'm just kidding, baby, you know you're always my favorite." He looked up at you with his puppy-like smile that made your heart melt. You heard Donghyuk gag behind you, making the other members laugh.
"I'm heading out, I think I might get cavities if I stay around here any longer."
"Yeah, come on guys. I think we should leave the lovebirds alone." Johnny agreed as he looked back at you and Taeyong, wiggling his eyebrows from the door. You rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys filed out of the room. You let out a laugh as you felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around your waist and bury his burning red face in your shoulder. You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. You picked up your phone to check the time, not too surprised to see how late it was.
"It's getting pretty late, we might need to get going if I'm gonna have enough time to drop you off at the dorms." Your boyfriend pouted at you and moved his arms to loosely wrap around your shoulders.
"I kinda wanted to go to your place. I haven't seen you in a while so I was thinking we could have a little movie marathon." You looked to one of the make-up artists to make sure it was alright. She nodded before she finished packing up and waited for you two to leave so she could lock up. You turned and smiled at him.
"Alright, let's go." He smiled, grabbed your hand, and started dragging you to your car, running like an over excited puppy. You giggled as you finally reached your car and started the drive to your house. You both blasted music, screaming the lyrics as you pulled up in your driveway. He got out of the car first and bounded up to the door in excitement. You looked him up and down, finally taking in what he was wearing as you walked to the door.
He was wearing a loose button-up shirt that hung low enough to show off his collarbones that was half tucked into his pants. The ripped black skinny jeans he was wearing were your favorite because they hugged his ass perfectly. The holes were all along the front, with bigger holes towards the top, showing off his perfectly tanned thighs. The innocent smile on his face as he waited for you at the door made you want to turn him into a moaning mess beneath you.
"Hurry uuuup." He whined out, snapping you out of your trance. You licked your lips before picking up your pace and unlocking the door. Before he could run to the living room to set up a movie, you closed the door and pulled him closer to you by the waist with his back still facing you.
"Hold up baby. I was thinking, maybe instead of watching a movie, we could do something more… fun." Taeyong shivered against you as you pulled his hips towards you, grinding your hips into his ass. He gulped as you leaned up to suck and kiss at his exposed neck.
"F-fun?"
"Of course baby. You've been such a good boy lately and I think you deserve a reward for it, don't you?" He whimpered and grinded back against you as you praised him.
"Y-yes. I-I've been a good boy. Mommy's good little boy." He whined out as he continued to roll his ass against you at a faster pace and tilted his head to give you more room on his neck. You smirked and guided him into the bedroom, closing the door behind you.
"Strip." He almost ripped his shirt off before moving to quickly kick off his pants while you reached under the bed to grab your strap-on and lube after stripping yourself. He was bare naked and laying in the center of the bed by the time you retrieved your toy. He shivered and whined at the sight of the strap in your hands. You quickly settled yourself between his legs and moved to kiss him as you leaned over him. You moved down to leave more marks on his neck and collarbones before pouring lube onto your fingers and pushing them into his hole. He whimpered and clung to your shoulders at the pleasure he felt from your fingers inside of him. He pushed his hips back to meet your hand as you sped up the pace of your fingers. You smirked against his neck at the submissive noises he was letting out.
"You look so pretty like this baby; with my fingers pounding into you. Do you like mommy pounding into you like this babyboy?" He moaned louder at your question and nodded frantically.
"Use your words baby."
"Y-yes! Love mommy's fingers inside of me! A-ha." His eyes rolled back in his head when you started stroking his dick at the same pace your fingers were moving in and out of him.
"F-fuck, mommy! Please move faster, p-please!" He whined as he moved his hips to meet your hands as they continued to pleasure him. Another moan ripped out of him as you sped up your hands movements. He continued to thrust and buck up into your hands with his beautiful cries of pleasure. You groaned against his throat.
"Fuck, baby. You sound so beautiful. Scream louder, let mommy hear how good she's making you feel." He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned louder at your command.
"S-shit- ngh- mommy! 'M gonna cum! F-fuck! Please let me cum mama!!" He cried out as his thighs squeezed around your waist.
"Go ahead baby, cum for mommy like a good boy." He whined and whimpered before cumming in your hand and all over his stomach with a loud moan. You moved your hand up to your mouth, licking his seed up before doing the same to his stomach. His breathing picked up again and you felt his abs tense under your tongue. His dick twitched against his stomach at the sound of you adjusting the harness of the strap-on you now had hanging securely on your waist.
"Do you want mommy to fuck you with this baby? Wanna cum for mommy a second time?" He whimpered and nodded as he felt the tip of the didlo enter his ass.
"F-fuck, yes. Please mommy." He mumbled out as he looked up at you with his irresistible puppy dog eyes. You quickly thrusted your hips to meet his, making him moan loudly against your shoulder as his hands roamed your back. You smirked before flipping over so Taeyong was sitting up on your strap. He bit his swollen bottom lip, almost drawing blood as the dildo pushed further into him, barely hitting his prostate. He tightly reached up and gripped your shoulders as he started bouncing on your fake cock.
"F-fuck, fuck, fuck, f-fuck!! Feels s-so fucking good!" He whimpered out in between high pitched moans as he started bouncing faster after finding his prostate. You bit your lips as you looked up at him, his head thrown back in pleasure as he rode you. He brought one of his hands up to start playing with his nipples, making him moan louder.
"Fuck baby, you look so goddamn perfect like this. Mommy's pretty little boy." He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered at your words.
"Th-thank- fuck!- Thank you m-mommy! Ngh-ah!!" After a few minutes, he started slowing down as his legs started getting tired. You harshly grabbed his hips and played your feet in the mattress, fucking up into him as hard as you could. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head in pleasure.
"A-HA! NGH-Fuck! Mommy!! AH! Gonna cum!! P-please let me cum, please!! I've been s-such a good boy- the b-best boy for you!!" You groaned at his words and started leaving more hickeys down his chest.
"Cum for me baby, cum for mommy. You always look so pretty when you cum baby." With one last moan, he came all over his stomach and both of your chests. He shakily climbed off your strap after a few more thrusts and leaned down to lick his cum off your chest. After he finished he continued down and removed your strap-on before burying his face between your thighs. Your hand shot to his hair as you felt him start to lick at your clit.
"F-fuck, baby, you don't have to do anything for me, I'll be alright." He looked up at you through his eyelashes and gave you a precious, innocent smile.
"I know, I just wanna make mama feel good." You groaned and rolled your head back into the soft pillows as Taeyong moved back down to suck and lick your clit with enthusiasm.
#dom!reader#nct 127#sub idol#sub!nct 127#sub!nct u#sub!nct#sub!taeyong#lee taeyong#nct scenarios#nct reactions#nct imagines#nct 127 smut#nct u smut#nct smut#lee taeyong smut#dom reader#sub!kpop#sub taeyong#sub nct#sub nct 127#sub nct u#sub!super m#sub super m
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Truth or Dare? - Roger x fem reader (smut) 18+
[A/N: Oops. Forgot about this one. Wrote it quick. Hope it doesn’t suck too hard.]
You invited the guys and their “plus ones” over to the house for dinner… Everyone started to leave, and a once rambunctious house has now gotten a little quiet. It’s been a good time—good food, good music and lots of laughter. The party had ended about an hour ago, but Roger was still in his same spot on the sofa drinking a beer having made himself at home, just as he always does when he comes over. His shoes were off and his feet were propped up on the coffee table, his beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other as you finished cleaning up the kitchen.
Roger was a lot of fun to be around and the two of you got along fantastically, often teasing each other with good-natured humor. He was undoubtedly a hit with the ladies, as you noticed yourself – the way he would flirt, perhaps unintentionally, with every female he ever encountered. You were harder to fool, though. You knew him too well. And, well, you’d dish it right back to him instead of resorting to becoming a giggly mess. All in good fun.
After finishing cleaning and pouring yourself another glass of wine, you join him on the sofa, sitting sideways and pulling your legs up to your chest. You have a slight buzz, but you still have the presence of mind to tuck your sundress between your legs to avoid flashing him. “How ya feeling?” you ask.
“I may have had a bit much to drink,” he laughs. “You should know better than to let me drink that much.”
“I’m not your babysitter,” you giggle. “You can stay in the extra bedroom. Which you should just make your own since you stay in it so much.”
“That’s because you always get me drunk.” He smiles and takes another sip from his bottle. “If I didn’t know you better I’d think you’re trying to make a move on me.”
“Oh, whatever,” you groan. “If that was the case you wouldn’t always sleep in the extra room.”
He turns off the television and gets up from the sofa. “May I choose something from your record collection?”
“Be my guest,” you say, waving your hand to your stereo.
“This ok?” he asks as he walks back to the sofa. “I mean, clearly you like it if you own it.”
“Pretty relaxing,” you laugh. “Didn’t peg you for a Joni Mitchell fan.”
“I’m not,” he smirks. “I’m just getting slightly drunk and don’t feel like looking anymore.”
You continue to talk and drink for what seemed hours. It’s been awhile since you laughed as hard as you are. You both know that you’re pretty drunk at this point, but you keep drinking anyway. You’ve already finished one bottle of wine, and you spill some from the second bottle you just opened on the coffee table when you attempt to pour yourself some more.
“Oops!” you giggle as you start to stand up to get a towel. "Need anything while I'm up? Something harder maybe?"
“You like it hard?" Roger asks with a huge grin.
“Oh, I love it hard,” you say as you take a long swallow of the wine, setting the empty glass down on the coffee table.
“Got tequila?” he asks.
“I do. Not so sure we should be drinking tequila though,” you smirk.
“Don’t be lame. I’m your guest. Give the man what he wants!” he yells, jokingly.
“Hmm, so you want it then?" you ask with a jokingly seductive tone.
“Yeah, I want it. I know you do too.” His tone was equally as seductive as yours, jokingly, of course.
“Alright, tequila it is.” You walked to the liquor cabinet and opened the doors, bending over at the waist. And when you turn around, you see Roger taking another sip of his beer, his free hand lingering at his crotch, but you think nothing of it.
You lay out the two shot glasses and fill the up, and after handing Roger his, you smile and raise your glass. “Bottoms up,” you giggle.
“Just how I like it,” he grins. You take your shots and Roger slams his glass on the coffee table. “Oh, shit. Sorry, didn't mean to bang it like that.”
“You seem like the type of guy that likes to bang it,” you grin, collecting the glasses and refilling them.
“Occasionally,” he smirks, taking the shot glass you just filled and taking it down in one fast gulp, never breaking eye contact. You follow suit and then pour another.
“Let’s play a game,” he suggests.
“What are my choices?”
"Flip, sip or strip,” he smirks. “Or truth or dare.” Both have the potential for someone to lose clothes, which is what his play is anyway, but you’re way past the point of having any modesty.
“Wow, Rog. Sounds like you want to get me naked,” you laugh.
“Can't blame me for that,” he shrugs. “At least I’m being subtle.”
“Let’s do the first one,” you say, jumping up to grab a coin and a few more shot glasses. In this game, a coin is flipped and you alternate between calling heads or tails. If you get the call right, you’re safe. If you missed, you take a shot. If you miss two in a row, you lose a piece of clothing. “The guest always goes first,” you smirk.
Roger was the first to lose a piece of clothing and he chose his shirt. He stands up and smiles at you as he undoes each button slowly. “Impressive,” you laugh.
“Thanks, but if I really wanted to impress you, I would have taken off my pants.”
Three rounds later, your luck came to an end, and you choose your panties as your punishment. You stand up and peel them off under your dress, then stretch them out and shoot them at Roger. He catches them and sticks them in his pocket.
You start to laugh. “I want those back.”
“They’re right here. Come get them if you want,” he smirks. “You really shouldn’t have picked this game, Y/N. Looks like you only have two more things to lose.”
You loose another two rounds, so this time you decide to give up your bra. Roger watches intently as you faced away from him to undo it and toss it at your feet. You did the best you could to hide your nipples, but you weren't very effective.
Roger lost his socks eventually, but the game was slowing and you’re both getting bored. “Change of game,” you blurt out of the blue.
“Alright,” he laughs. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you grin.
“Flash me.”
“Flash what?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.
“Top,” he says as he leans back on the sofa with his hands behind his head. Without any hesitation, you drop the front of your dress, exposing your tits. “Holy, shit,” he gasps. “Those are amazing.” He starts to squeeze his legs together, trying to be inconspicuous, but you notice and can’t help the smirk on your face.
“Truth or dare?” you ask as you raise your dress back up.
“Truth.”
“Are you trying to get me naked, Roger?”
“Mmm hmm,” he laughs. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Last time you masturbated.”
“Two nights ago.”
“That was when we…”
“That’s the night we were at Freddie’s, yes, and you just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted you to come home with me.” You sit back down on the sofa, your legs tucked underneath you. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
After thinking for a moment, you reach into the candy dish on the table behind you and unwrap a hard candy. “I’m going to hide this somewhere on my body and you have to find it and grab it, but not with your hands.” You wave your hand for him to turn around, and after he does, you stick the candy down the front of your dress, holding it in your cleavage. “Alright. Lets go.”
He turns back around and is confused for a second since you’re sitting in the same position, but then he realizes exactly where you hid it. He moves closer to you, smirking and keeping eye contact when he does until he looks down your dress. “No hands, huh?” He moves his face down to your cleavage and uses his tongue to scoop it out. “I’m pretty good with my tongue,” he grins. “Not many know this,” he winks before he sits back on the sofa. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” you smirk.
“Take off your dress.” Your mouth drops open and he starts to laugh. “Oh come on I’ve already seen them.”
You roll your eyes and slide your dress over your head, leaving you to sit there in nothing but your panties. “I'm a little flattered you're reacting that way to me,” you laugh as you point down to his pants.
Roger reaches down with embarrassment to cover himself but it’s too late. “Truth,” he says before you can even ask, “and keep your eyes up here.”
“What would you do if I took off my panties right now?”
He’s shocked by your brashness but he’s eating it up. “I'd definitely get harder and more than likely pop out of these pants.”
“Hmm. I'll keep that in mind,” you wink. “I pick truth, by the way.”
“What would you do if you could see my cock?”
“Pick dare next and find out,” you tell him, biting your bottom lip. You move closer to him. “Truth or dare?”
He doesn’t reply. He stands up and quickly takes off his shirt and pants before standing in front of you. “Now that I'm naked, it's only fair that you perform a dare and let me take those panties off.” You lay back, and Roger grabs your waist, and as he slides your panties off, he makes sure not to lose contact with your legs.
You quickly sit up and grab his cock. “See, I can place my hand around you and get a good grip, but there’s the perfect amount left for my mouth.” You move your hand around the base of Roger's shaft and moved your head down close before letting go and sitting up. “Dare me.”
“You're such a tease, so your dare is to lie back and let me tease you.”
You lay back and rest your head on the couch's armrest, closing your eyes and letting Roger do whatever he wants. He crawls over you, making sure his body is perfectly on top of yours. The head of his cock rests on your mound as he puts a soft kiss on your lips, and you kiss him back. Soon the two of you are in a deep kiss, tongues gliding and soft moans escaping both of you. Your legs and chests are pressed against each other and your hands run up his back. As soon as the head of his dock slid down from your mound to your lips, he breaks the kiss and sits back up. “Tease over. Now hurry with my dare.”
“Fuck you for that, Taylor,” you laugh. “But I'll get mine sooner or later. Lay on your back and let me do whatever I want to you.”
Roger does as instructed, and you lean over him, grasping his cock as you did before. Only this time, you’re not teasing. You lightly lick the precum off and feel him twitch in your hand. You want more, so you move your lips over the head completely, keeping pressure as you move them back up to the tip, this time allowing your hand to move with them. Roger lets out a small moan as you moved back down. You continue this rhythm for about a minute and then sit back up. “I’m tired of this game. I need you to fuck me.”
You stand up and straddle over him before lowering yourself down on his cock. “I like it this way,” you tell him. “You can’t tease me.” You move quickly, sliding up and down the length of his cock. He pulls your down so your bodies are pressed together, kissing you deeply, your pace never slowing. Your breath starts to become rapid and shallow before your orgasm rocks your body, burying him deep inside. He holds you still so you stop moving.
Your lips meet again and your tongues slip against one another. He gently pushes you back until you’re laying back on the couch. He slowly climb back between your legs, only this time he’s not teasing. He pushes his cock deeply into you in one smooth motion. Your bodies move in harmony as he tries to bring you to another orgasm. The pace is steady with deep thrusts and he can feel your body reacting. His movements pick up speed as he watches your face as your body builds toward another orgasm. “Fuck me, Roger,” you rasp. Those two little words send him over the limit. He thrusts into you a few more times and he feels the pressure explode.
He collapses onto you and kisses you again as he pulls the blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping you both in before holding you close. “Do you have anymore tequila?” he asks. But you don’t answer, because you’ve already passed out.
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#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor smut#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor x fem reader#roger taylor x y/n#roger taylor x you#roger taylor fanfiction#roger taylor fic#roger taylor fanfic#my stuff#roger quickie
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Mistletoe Manor - Part 4
Summary: Christmas is the most important time of year for all those who live within Mistletoe Manor. From the staff to the Hawthorne family themselves, everyone works hard to ensure that the festive season is a success every year! We invite you to see if everyone can pull off another magical Christmas at the manor this year.
Pairing: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyun, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong and OCs.
Genre: regency au / romance / christmas au
A/N: Becky ( @noona-clock ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.
Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
The requirements in the manor after the mishap at the Winter Festival meant a lot of the staff were now working two roles. For the sake of meeting the deadline, it made sense that this was happening and a lot of the villagers were also teaming up with the staff and Hawthorne family to make it work.
It was suddenly rather quiet in Mistletoe Manor, and this suited Taeyong just fine. He had been tasked to stay on with Percy, the butler, knowing between the two of them, the house would maintain its excellence in standing.
But that wasn’t without a little assistance from Taeyong himself.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Looking up from the banister Taeyong was polishing, he noticed Anna standing there. He smirked, going back to the task at hand. “Is it in your repertoire to leave such streaks? The Hawthorne’s use these stairs on the daily. I would be utterly aghast if I were them to see such a mess.”
“Su-such a mess?!” Anna echoed, shoving him aside to inspect the railing. She then turned to him, pointedly. “You’re teasing me!”
“I’m afraid not, I have merely masked your errors. Don’t you have bedding to change?” Taeyong mentioned and Anna placed her hands on her hips, making it impossible for him to keep his humour to himself. He chuckled smugly. “Will taking purchase in your sides make those hands work any faster?”
“Might I remind you, Taeyong, of your own role within this house?”
He nodded, proudly. “I am at the service of the Hawthorne’s needs.”
“You’re a footman. Not a maid.”
“I’d hope not, could you imagine me prancing around here in your outfit? It would make a sight for sore eyes!”
“Just because Percy took you under his wing since you’re too afraid of hard work out at the marketplace-”
“Now, hold up just a second-”
“Does not mean you come up in here and boss me around!”
“When did I?” he retorted, throwing down the cloth onto the banister. “I was merely minding my own business until you stuck your nose-”
“My nose?! What is so wrong with my nose?!” Anna argued, her face now glowing hot as she shoved it closer to his. Taeyong tightened his tie in order to compose himself.
They were always like this. Many referred to them as the cat and mouse of this house, their bickering constantly heard down every hallway. Even the owners of the residence were humoured by the pair, though Taeyong found Anna to be the most intolerable woman in this county.
And having her stand this close to him made him entirely uncomfortable. Jarringly stepping back, he missed his footing, stumbling down a few stairs before landing on his bottom.
Anna giggled. “Yes, now that suits you just fine. The stumbling idiot. Back to my bedding, isn’t that right?”
“ANNA!”
Throughout the day, Taeyong continued to have endless mishaps whenever he crossed paths with the maid. Anna was just as frustrated with him, glaring at him as she dropped a stack of folded towels when he had come past her carrying out the dirty laundry. She had dusted the drapes right into his line of cleaning the windows and Taeyong had stepped in her pile of cinders she removed from the parlour’s hearth.
It was chaotic and yet, as he fell back upon his bed that evening, he couldn’t help but laugh.
It had been a good day.
When the next day arrived, he was tasked with helping Anna clean the grand dining hall. After the festival began, guests would soon arrive for Christmas at the manor and more meals would be held within this room. It would need to be spotless now so they could set up for the first large meal of the holidays.
“You do the left side and I’ll do the right,” Anna instructed and Taeyong blew out an air of annoyance, moving forward towards the centre of the room instead. “Are you not listening to me? As one of the head maids in this house, I should be respected!”
“Why should I show respect to someone who belittles me at any chance she gets?”
“You’re impossible!”
“At least you know my own sentiments towards you,” Taeyong agreed, clearing off the table so he could climb on top of it.
Anna gasped. “Get down from there right this instant! You do not put your feet on a table!”
“Pray tell, how do we clean the chandelier then?” he asked bitterly, and she gestured him down, slapping at his ankle until he hopped down.
And then she groaned. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone else.”
“Word of what?”
“Crouch down so I can climb aboard your shoulders.”
“Surely standing on the table-”
“Not where the affluent sit! If they hadn’t taken the ladders to the site I would use them, now crouch down!”
“Do not blame me if I cannot hold your weight for long!”
“Perhaps you should do some more physical exercise to build up your strength then for I am not heavy.”
“Say that to someone who is not holding your entire weight upon his shoulders,” Taeyong griped and Anna sighed heavily before getting to work. For several minutes it was fine, Taeyong readjusting her when his position tired. She was almost done with one side when he began to struggle. “How much longer?”
“You can’t even handle five minutes?”
“It’s been longer than ten.”
“Even Percy could hold me longer than you.”
“Next time ask him to do so then.”
Anna glanced down at him. “Could you stand still, I’m trying to reach up to the highest part here!”
“Then hurry up and do it.”
Anna stretched further, her legs that were dangling around his waist, shifting with her lean. It threw their balance off and Taeyong doubled in half towards the table, managing to just get his hands behind her hand and back to brace her fall as he landed on top of her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Anna breathed, her eyes wide and searching his. Taeyong was stunned entirely, all his strength leaving him the longer he stared back.
And then it happened all too quickly, their lips meeting midway in a fevered kiss. It was unexpected and yet he groaned, taking more of her within his mouth until he grew breathless.
Once his lips fell away from hers, he snapped up straight, letting her fall out of his arms onto the table with a soft thud and put distance between them. “You kissed me!”
“I am certain it wasn’t just my lips working alone there, Taeyong,” she retorted, her tone too airy to be full of contempt as usual. He shot her a frazzled look, falling captive in her gaze again until the door suddenly opened.
Taeyong jolted so much that he stumbled to the ground. Percy looked at him and then smiled. “I forgot you would need this hook. It pulls down the chandeliers so you can clean them accordingly. Oh, are we quite alright in here? You both appear rather distressed. I do hope you are getting along for once.”
When the butler left the room, they scrambled to their feet, going in opposite directions to clean hastily.
On his way into the servants’ kitchen later that evening for a snack, he sighed heavily when he found Josephine sitting across from Maggie, the cook of the house. “Again, Joey?”
“My Lady, you mean!” she corrected and he rolled his eyes.
“If you come down here, then must I refer to you with any title?”
“I trust that you will not tell Mother on me for my visit,” the youngest Hawthorne requested and Taeyong merely shrugged. “Taeyong!”
“I might go to Lord Hawthorne instead.”
“You wouldn’t dare do such a wicked thing!”
“Don’t mind him, pet, he’s in a mood.”
“Whatever for?” Joey asked, looking at the man beside her. “Are you ill? Are you vexed by the happenings in the house right now?”
“Vexed, I like that word,” the cook exclaimed as she worked on the eggs she was scrambling.
“Don’t mind me, I’m processing.”
“You and Cassie are too alike. And you saw what happened there. She worked herself into a state. Tell me, as your friend I am here to assist you.”
“As a friend?” he echoed and Joey nodded adamantly. “You best not spread any gossip about this.”
“My lips are sealed!”
“Anna kissed me today,” he announced and then shook his head. “Or I did first. One of us or both of us…”
“You finally realised it?!”
Taeyong looked between Joey and the cook who was now laughing with glee. “Realised what?”
“You like each other! Goodness, is that all.”
“What, no, we despise each other! She drives me insane. What woman has the right to make me this wound up? The other day she purposely ruined my cleaning of the windows!”
“Uh-huh,” Joey murmured, still smiling to herself. “And yet you don’t seem repulsed by kissing her.”
“No… I don’t.” Taeyong groaned. “That’s why I am frustrated. I should, shouldn’t I?”
Joey shook her head. “Why, you like her so it should make your heart soar not shudder.”
“It’s about time too. I wonder who will win the wager set on this once it’s out in the open?”
“Did you choose a date too, Maggie? I sure had it pegged for after Christmas but with the rush maybe it’s brought them together.”
“You made a wager on us?!”
“Sometimes life is boring in this house,” Joey admitted with a giggle. She took his hand in hers and then patted it softly. “You really had no idea what your heart wanted, huh?”
“The bigger question is, what will you do now that you know?” Maggie asked and both women looked at him expectedly.
Taeyong sighed. “I … well, what should I do?”
After the advice of those in the kitchen, the following morning and the day of the Winter Festival, Taeyong had been tasked to finish off the dining hall before all staff could enjoy the evening off. He was anxious standing at the door to the room, and when Anna sped by without so much of a morning greeting, he questioned if Josephine’s advice had been proper.
Especially when Anna squealed from within the room.
“Look at this mess! There are petals all over the floor! We’ll be here cleaning all day long!” she exclaimed and turned as Taeyong came inside. “Did you do this on purpose?!”
“Yes -- I mean, no.”
“It is winter, where did this even come from?!”
“Well, I was permitted to take it from the indoor garden,” he mentioned softly, Anna’s brows now knitting together.
“You did this?” He nodded. “Why?”
“It’s supposed to be romantic.”
“It’s a mess on the floor, Taeyong! As a maid, I have to clean things like this up!” she complained and he nodded a little too much. Coming over to place the small bouquet he had been holding down on the table, he crouched to start scooping the petals up.
“Wait, you did this for me?” Anna asked as she picked up the flowers, and he glanced at her before straightening up again.
“After our kiss yesterday, I felt that there’s been a reason for our endless bickering.”
“What reason?”
He smiled; relieved to know she wasn’t aware of it either. “I believe I may have feelings for you.”
“For me?”
“Who else puts up with me as well as you?” he offered and she blinked a few times before smiling.
“You do have a point.”
“And whilst you’re the most intolerable woman I have ever met-”
“Hey!”
“I know you’ll be the only woman I ever want to meet.”
Anna eased, smiling shyly as she took in her flowers. “You did this too?”
“Is it too much?”
“No, it exactly what I expect from you. Messy yet charming. Come, we better clean up in here if we want to make it to the festival in time.”
_________________
Part 5
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