#but if I’m being honest this whole thing is making me so frustrated at the world and myself

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ you are the girl who does the makeup effects for the society of the snow and you fall for el pendejo de Enzo (no te creas, papi tkm💋). But you start avoiding him because it’s not correct to fall in love with someone like him.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ AGE GAP (I’m turning 20 in March, let me live my fantasy), angst, fluff, Spanglish fic (I’m Mexican American, I know what I’m writing), reader is in denial and speaks Spanish, idk misunderstandings?, happy ending (irl Enzo nunca nos va a pelar)😭

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I hate Spanglish but how can I keep both mi gente latino and my RAHHH🦅🇺🇸 people happy? With a Spanglish fic. I let go all my frustrations y lo ardida que estoy con cierto uruguayo.

♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

@kissmemucho on X // @_hannia.k on instagram

「 𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚_ para todas mis Enzo-motomamis del grupo que ya las quiero un montón y para Juani, que el hijodesuputamadre nunca me ha likeado ni topado. Me volví el joker y ahora soy hater (igual tkm jUaNi) 」

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One day, you started hating going to work. It was half work, half practice for college. Still, you started hating it. From moving some months to Spain to work on the makeup team for a movie, to spending hours with each actor to do their makeup.

That wasn’t the issue though. It was just that… uh… gosh.

You had developed a crush for that man called Enzo. It was so cringe to admit. And it tore apart you because he was significantly older than you. He would never turn to look down at you. That was the most honest thing about the whole thing. Only that you were even depriving yourself from being his friend.

But god, his pretty nose and deep eyes. His soft hair and perfect smile. The way he was so kind to everyone and to you. Soon you learned he was single too. It was so damn much that it made you so mad. He was perfect. Gorgeous in every sense.

And that’s exactly why you now hate going to work.

Sometimes the aura around the team seemed to be heavy due to the context of the movie. You had seen how every actor started to lose weight and prepare for the role. Which was a little tough. Anyways, everyone in the cast believed you were a burst of sunshine at least. Who seemed to make the hours spent seated on a chair with makeup and prosthetics being placed a little more fair.

“¡HEY!…GUAPA, VENÍ PARA ACÁ!” You heard as soon as you entered the workplace. Once you spotted the little circle of boys, you rolled your eyes and giggled.

“¿Y ahora qué se te ofrece Juani?”

“Que confirmes si vienes a cenar con todos” you looked at the others. Matías and the others were exchanging looks, with none other than Enzo. You don’t even look at the man, you can only focus on the boy with annoying blue eyes.

“Cómo jodes, chico. Ya veré si voy o no, tengo mucho que hacer” that was true, you had a lot to do. But mostly, it was because you believed you had nothing amazing to share with them.

“Podemos esperarte.” Enzo said, which immediately made your stomach flutter and your chest to get congested. He was wearing some t-shirt and those damn Adidas joggers he liked to repeat on a daily basis.

The fact that he suggested waiting for you to go out and have dinner should’ve made you blush, but it only made you nervous, increasing your eagerness to run away from the little circle of men.

“No pasa nada, váyanse ustedes. Que se la pasen bien…” and poor Enzo, he watched how you disappeared through the hallways with your big bag full of makeup and brushes.

“Ya va a caer…”

“Pero ni me gusta” everyone giggled. Enzo knew you were younger, of age, but younger. He also knew you were from a little too far away from Uruguay, that you were bilingual, that you were passionate about writing and other arts, that your eyes were lighter than expected in the sun, that your hands were very soft and that you were so extroverted with everyone except with him.

“Sos idiota, si no te gustara no te hubieras quedado como mogólico viéndola irse”

“Pero es una niña…” he tried to reason.

“La veinteañera universitaria que trabaja aquí en producción y anda sola por la vida” everyone laughed again. You were certainly an adult. Yeah you still acquired toys, listened to silly music and watched Barbie or Bratz movies. But you were legally an adult.

Which led Enzo wondering if he could ever have a chance with you. You had seen a lot of people, with how many times you had travelled to Los Angeles, the heart of Hollywood and everything, sometimes he doubted you could be interested in him.

But no… he definitely hadn’t caught an eye on you.

…

It was a Friday. A week from the day you rejected dinner with your workmates. Nothing serious happened after that. Juani made fun and exposed you with random tweets like a bully. He was laughing his ass off of you, so shameless and stupid. However, you on the other hand… were dying out of embarrassment. Especially after seeing how many people started following him. Then gifting him with an army of girls starving for shitpost around the internet.

“Si no estuvieras por grabar una escena tan desgarradora, te ahorcaba en este preciso momento, Juani '' you wanted to kill him. He had posted online two videos of you dancing like the proudest stripper, a picture of you rolling your eyes that looked extremely silly and dorky. Two audios of you cursing in Spanish and saying how much you hated capitalism. And he even made his own stickers of you to pass around the group chat of the cast.

“Eso te pasa por ¡RIDÍCULA!” The tone he used, extremely mocking you was enough to make you laugh along with him and caught the attention of everyone surrounding you two.

“Pues nunca te conseguiré el follow de los ex-One Direction” he stopped laughing, knowing you had made him remember his humbling twitter posts.

“¡Qué boluda… y pesada!”

“Okay, pinche ardido” one of the design team members from the movie appeared and handed you a little paper. It was the list of your schedule. Juani snatched it and opened it before you could even blink.

“UYYY… te toca todo el día con Enzo” he started teasing you like a child. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Pero la boluda y pesada soy yo”

“Pues si” you finally read the paper and yes… 3 hours with Enzo.

“Well… it could be worse” you admitted sighing, accepting that you would spend three hours swallowing your pride and pierced feelings.

“Dejáte querer…” you frowned confused at the boy beside you.

“What?” You asked laughing, but he only shrugged.

“Nothing, dear” once again, you rolled your eyes.

“De verdad eres medio insoportable” he batted his ears, acting innocent. Deep down, both of you were actually friends.

“Te quiero” he responded, making you laugh once again.

“Si, yo también. Mi pendejito favorito”

“No, ese debe ser Enzo” this time, you blushed.

“Como chingas con meterlo en nuestras conversaciones. ¿Te gusta o qué?” He laughed, helping you out with your heavy bag full of brushes and capes and everything.

“No. ¿Y a vos? ¿Gustas de Enzo?” You remained quiet, pretending you hadn’t heard him.

You opened the door of the little room, surprised to see Enzo already there. So you grabbed the bag from Juani and started closing the door.

“Adios, naco perdedor” and just like that, you closed the door on his face.

You sighed, closing your eyes, before staring at the plain door for some seconds.

“Hola…” you heard his deep and sweet voice. It was just… that you had to be a big girl and leave aside your foolishness for that grown ass man. He was just a crush… a simple mortal at the end.

“Hi…” you replied awkwardly. You had seen the following section of his instagram, the most pretty girls, very different from you. Which made you feel… like it was auto-sabotage. But before you could start feeling depressed again. You decided to keep working, the only reason why you were in that room in the first place.

He would think you kinda disliked him. Every time you entered to work on his makeup, he would be smiling and trying to talk to you. And while you were polite and smiley too, you remained very quiet, always avoiding his cute eyes.

“¿Cómo estás?” He would ask, looking at you through the mirror in the room.

“Pues muy bien, gracias.” You would reply, turning to open the boxes with prosthetics and other special effects makeup. And he sighed, already feeling a little disappointed.

“¿Me permites tus manos?” You ask him. He shows you the palm of his hands with another smile, which you reply quickly. Your heart started pounding as soon as he walked into the room.

“Perdón si estoy fría.” You admit with a blush, knowing the tips of your fingers were freezing.

“No pasa nada, linda” he had to be joking. He couldn’t call you “linda” just like that? However, you do your best to ignore it.

So you start making little lines of the paint samples you had taken. Until you noticed which one was identical to his skin.

“Okay, I got it.” You speak to yourself, out loud though. Sometimes Enzo questioned if you weren’t fluid in Spanish, but he had heard you talk and talk with other people in Spanish. Your accent was so clean, so different to the rest of the crew.

“¿Te molesta si pongo música?” You ask him, grabbing your phone.

“No, para nada.”

“Nomás no me vayas a juzgar” you giggle without looking at him, scrolling through your playlist.

It was the first time you attempted to joke with him. And he wouldn’t risk the opportunity.

“Jamás podría…” you only thank him before starting to play some music.

He was used to your touch now. You had small and soft hands compared to him. Every time you had to pick the right tone that matched his skin, brush his hair and work inches away from his face. It was insufferable for you. And to him… it only built more intrigue.

He listens to how you barely mumble some songs.

“¿Quién es ella?” He asks at the song.

“Nelly Furtado” you reply, concentrating on his hands, starting to draw the fake wounds. Promiscuous was a great song to feel empowered while trying to beat the feelings for the man who was extremely close to you.

Some minutes passed and then Madonna came with Dress You Up and Enzo barely got it right. You sing very low and he tries to hear you with precision.

“¿Y esta?” You ask him when gorgeous started.

and God, that damn song was like a curse and blessing at that very moment.

You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

(I hate you so much)

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

You're so gorgeous

I can’t say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

That was you. That was how much you hated your feelings for him. Because he would never be yours.

And somehow, Enzo got the message. He wasn’t sure but he felt how you changed the way of singing and avoided his eyes.

“¿Y esa quién es?” He asked once again.

“Esa es Taylor Swift”

“No la conozco” you giggle, ignoring the song a little bit.

“¡Enzo, por Dios!. ¿En qué mundo vives?” You found it very hard to believe he didn’t know half of your musical taste.

“Pues en Uruguay…” for the first time, he makes you laugh and talks to you so fucking much that you have to stop spreading the fake dirt on his face.

You're gorgeous

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad

You’re so gorgeous

“¿Por qué nunca sales con nosotros?” He asks suddenly, and it takes you aback. That you end up looking straight at his face.

“Tú tampoco sales, prefieres quedarte en el cerro” he laughs, feeling a little too comfortable under your touch on his cheeks and chin.

“He salido dos veces con ellos. ¿Y vos? Cero…”

“Estoy ocupada.” You simply reply.

“No es cierto. Por ahí me dijeron que te la pasas viendo películas y escribiendo fanfiction” you blush, but you keep working.

Actually, last Saturday was the first weekend you cried because of him. You couldn’t even stay at a local bar. You left your friends there to go home. New addition to your routine.

“Maybe… ¿pero a ti qué si no voy?” You ask giggling, hoping he would drop the issue. You pause the music and slip your phone inside your bag before returning to him. Scared of his possible answer.

“Pues… porque te quiero ver” your hands start shaking.

“¿A mí?”

“Si. A ti, linda” he senses how taken aback you are. And he realized, that he had adapted some of your slang words from all the time he spent with you.

“¿Por qué yo, Enzo?” He smiles, and you want to kill him. He made the gesture like you had been so oblivious for ages.

“Porque…” slowly, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from keeping working on his face. He touches you with such gentleness that it makes you finally start shaking.

The way he looks at you. It must’ve been a dream, two pairs of eyes deeply connected. He was silently revealing he liked you. Once you get it, you shake your head, his eyes giving you some confirmation.

“No..” You brush away from him.

“Si… tal vez suene raro o no me creas… pero, vos me gustas. Por eso quiero verte y busco tus bonitos ojos cada vez que trabajas conmigo…” you sigh, dropping the brush and paint a little too violent.

“¿Y por qué yo entre tantas diosas que están a tus pies?” You are fighting against the tears already forming on your eyes. He remains quiet, and to you… that’s an answer.

He doesn’t like the way you are being too negative. But you don’t like having that conversation at all. You are shocked, and you don’t feel in love at that moment. You feel panic and stress.

“Fui al bar el sábado pasado y te vi con la chica rubia. Si te gusta alguien no dejas a la chica rubia hacer ni un movimiento. No te encuentras en redes a las chicas a las que les das reacciones” maybe you had no right to be so angered. But it had been two months, and everything had worsened. At that point, your eyes were already red and crystallized.

“Nada de eso significó algo”

“Si fue algo. Fue tu cuarteada en lo que buscabas la manera de acercarte a mí. Por si no te resultaba la cosa conmigo…” again, he remains quiet.

“This is bullshit. Mira Enzo, he estado aquí desde hace dos meses y nunca te acercaste. No te salió el amor por mí hoy” you spit with anger, grabbing your paint and makeup, hurrying to get out of there.

“Me has gustado desde la primera semana cuando te conocí. Pero tú no me quieres, y por eso te evado. Aparte del dilema de nuestra age gap, que podría ser un problema” you explain putting your coat on and grabbing the bag.

“Y eres una persona hermosa, Enzo. Sé que eres el amigo y novio perfecto. Pero mi intuición me dice que me vas a lastimar” he steps between you and the door. The proximity worsens everything, he wants to end it all for once with a kiss to make you feel the way he does.

It was already difficult for him. He had felt slightly depressed while filming, he felt weird, in company but alone at the same time. And he believed you were the right burst of sunshine to lighten his weird mood swings.

But you believed he was lying. He honestly felt hurt that you were mistaking him for some womaniser and asshole.

“No te vayas, por favor” he pleaded, shocked to see your teary eyes. So he started questioning what you said about being hurt.

“Ya acabamos, no te preocupes.” You manage to slip beside him, opening the door and leaving him alone.

The dramatic moment culminated in Enzo feeling more depressed and giving a sadder performance for the movie. For you, it gave you a reason to cry in the shower and stare at the balcony of your place for hours, contemplating the sky and feeling so damn weird.

…

You have flashbacks of seeing him laughing and letting the blonde girl at the bar whisper in his ear. His honest smile and how he admitted he liked you a day ago.

You wished for weeks, now months that he confessed his feelings for you. But the moment he does, it feels wrong. Like it wasn’t meant to happen. Because he’s older, he’s got more experience, he had a very extended long-term girlfriend once, he is too much unlike you.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen and this is how it was supposed to end.

With you bursting out in tears and anger. Him believing you were crazy, but you had a point.

He never made a move. Just trying to talk, but he never invited you to do anything with him, or just to stay with him during the free days. It seemed unreal that suddenly he liked you.

And maybe you’re just scared of falling in love, because he could unintentionally but potentially break your heart.

Nonetheless, on the second day you want to distract yourself, it’s Saturday again and you go out alone to jog, then to buy some new clothes and you are about to prepare your dinner when the pain in the ass of Juani asks you to go out for some tapas.

You agree because you really need to distract yourself from thinking about the whole cringy issue with Enzo.

Probably everyone in the production already knew. But you would shut your mouth just to let the rumours die.

You start your walk towards the restaurant when he sends you the location. It’s a few blocks away, and you frown when you see what type of restaurant it is.

“amiguito, pero creí que querías tapas. Este es un restaurante vegano” you send him a voice message. And he replies immediately.

“Ay pues para ser fitness un día nada más, chica. ¿Ya vas para allá?” You roll your eyes, not that you didn’t like vegan food but you wanted tapas.

“Si, morro meco. Ya estoy a un par de cuadras” you send back, putting on your EarPods and route.

You realise how much you like wearing sneakers, long dresses and coats with matching purses. Perfect for the weather and your silly thoughts of walking on the streets along some cool music playing in the background.

Until you arrive at the restaurant and you don’t spot Juani. But maybe he was on his way. So you order first, grilled tofu with vegetables and tangy sauce.

It’s a cute place, and by the time you find a table, it’s already dark. The restaurant has candles everywhere and quality music playing.

When you start closing your purse, you look up and you freeze. Because you see Enzo entering the place, with a tiny bouquet of flowers on his right hand and a water bottle on the other.

He was wearing jeans, a random buttoned shirt and dark sunglasses.

Oh, fuck him. Of course he knew he looked gorgeous.

Quickly you change from your seat, giving your back to him, hopefully becoming invisible.

Your fingers rush to find the contact of Juani and send him a violent voice message.

“Oye, ¿por qué carajo no has llegado? ¿Y por qué Enzo Vogrincic está viendo el menú ahora mismo?” You send and he starts writing.

“Es que él es vegano…” he writes in text, which boils your blood.

“¿Y eso a mí qué chingados me importa, Juani? Ven ya y sácame a escondidas o te juro que me voy a colgar del primer poste de luz que vea” you silently scream, lowering your voice.

“No puedo” that’s it, you’re going to die in a vegan restaurant while Enzo Vogrincic orders food.

You are about to stand up when he literally appears on your table.

Qué hijo de puta, y todavía te sonríe y todo.

“¿Y el Juani ya viene o no?” You ask, trying to sound confident.

“De hecho no va a venir” right, pinche Juani idiota, qué gran amigo y todo.

“That’s it. I’m leaving!” You mumble sighing, standing up from the table, when Enzo grabs your forearm and makes you sit again.

“No, vos te quedas. Mira, te traje estas” he hands you the flowers, yellow tulips.

“Yo nunca le he dicho a Juani… ni a Matías cuáles son mis flores favoritas” you frown confused, grabbing them.

They’re beautiful.

“Tuve que buscar por mi cuenta” he admits, and you frown deeper. Until you open your eyes in shock.

“¿Me zorreraste mi Instagram?” Enzo starts laughing, and you blush. He takes a seat and drops the receipt of his order on the table. You read it, chickpea pasta with arrabiata sauce and zucchini.

You read his order just to avoid looking at his eyes.

“Dejáme explicar todo…” slowly, you look at him. You are still on time to ask for the food to be to go, you can leave and just let this strange issue wash away.

But a waitress appears with your tofu and the pasta. You awkwardly smile and say thank you as well as Enzo.

“Pues ya que…” he smiles, thinking your eyeliner was so perfect. Your dress was cute and the coat made you look elegant and fine.

“Vos sabes quién te engañó. Le pedí que te hiciera venir a un lugar para encontrarme” your roll your eyes. Unbelievable how childish was the whole situation.

“Yo quería tapas”

“Dale, ahorita te llevo por tapas” Enzo says with a giggle. You simply mock him with a gesture and proceed to eat.

“Lamento no haberte dado señales desde el inicio. Creí que con hacerle plática cuando me maquillabas era suficiente.” He confesses.

“Con todos sos un amor. Y conmigo… siempre seria y pues… llegué a pesar que no te agradaba” you shrug, eyebrows rising and avoiding his eyes once again.

“Todo lo contrario…” you admit.

“Ya veo. Entonces hace unas semanas, los chicos empezaron a sacar el tema. Que debía invitarte a salir o hacerte venir con nosotros a comer para ahí verte”

“Y ayer me atreví. Pero temo que tu reacción no fue la que buscaba” he says with many pauses, not wanting to disturb you.

“Tú declaración tampoco fue lo que esperaba.” He nods, calming you.

“Ya lo sé, hubiera sido mejor esperar a estar en un lugar… como este”

“Quizá” you reason with him.

“Incluso desde antes de admitir que vos me gustas, no me he visto con nadie. Así que solo sos tú… nadie más” you nod, looking back at the tulips.

“Están preciosas, gracias” you say lifting the boquete. Enzo smiles. So you know it’s time, you sigh.

“Yo también lo siento por juzgarte sin saber. No tenía derecho de ponerme celosa, ni nada. Es solo que me da miedo dejar que esto, fluya…” you say, not wanting to repeat once again that your intuition said he would break your heart.

“No te voy a lastimar, nunca. Dejáme quererte, linda. Por favor….” he pleads, accepting he was nervous and desperate. He really longed for someone in the upside down moments of his days.

“Yo solo quiero sentir lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad. ¿Me puedes dar eso?”

“Te voy a dar todo, pero más lo que vos quieras. Y si lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad es lo que querés…. Así será, linda” you smile, finding his hand on top of the table, intertwining your fingers with him.

“Entonces todo bien, lindo” he smiles more, ending in a sweet laugh.

He helps you pick the rest of the food, both of you also order ice cream cones. Him with chocolate and you with pistachios. And soon both of you are walking together in the streets. Spring is near and it’s your favourite season. You feel happy feeling his warm touch outside of the job. And now being inches away from him feels like a new home.

“¿Si vamos a ir por las tapas?” He starts laughing again, and when he leans, you can feel what’s coming.

“Te voy a besar…” he warns before grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours.

“Te quiero” he spills, and you only smile on his lips, deepening the kiss. Feeling the silly butterflies in your stomach and intense tears of happiness. You almost drop your cone due to that.

“Yo también te quiero” you reply, swiftly bumping your forehead with him. He then takes your hand and suddenly you don’t feel wrong about it.

Now it feels perfect. Like destiny changed and finally it was meant to be.

#enzo vogrincic #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #perdón chingado #si no etiqueto la movie como hago que esto lo vean duh #enzo vogrincic x reader

[togrowoldinv]

Each Other

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You always know what Natasha needs

Note: it’s just some soft stuff. Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Hey baby,” you say as you lean on the doorframe of Natasha’s home office.

She spins around in her chair and smiles up at you. You never tire of seeing that beautiful grin.

“Are you saying hi to me or the actual baby?” She jokes.

“Both of you.”

You walk further into the room and make grabby hands for your six month old daughter. Nat hands her to you, knowing she’s hungry and wants to see her other mom.

You kiss her forehead and hold her against your shoulder. She presses her head against your neck and whines softly.

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo, trying to soothe her a bit. “Are you coming, Mama?”

“Soon,” Nat replies. “I need to finish up a few things.”

“Don’t take too long please.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You share another smile with your wife and leave to go feed your baby girl. The process takes a while, but the bonding is very much worth it. She is ready to burp by the time Natasha makes it to her nursery.

“Let me do it,” she says. “You’re still work clothes and we both know this girl will spit up all over you.”

“Thank you, honey,” you reply. She usually makes fun of the pet names but today she doesn’t say anything.

She helps the little girl burp and does in fact get covered in spit up in the process of doing so.

“You okay?” You ask her.

“Oh yeah, I love being covered in this,” Nat says dryly, but not seriously.

You take Ali back and feed her more. Nat sits on the arm of the rocking chair you’re sitting in.

“No, I mean are you okay?” You ask, placing a hand on her thigh. “You haven’t teased me about the pet names since I’ve been home today.”

“I know,” she says. “I think I’m too exhausted. I’m sorry.”

Her voice sounds distant and worse for wear. You hate seeing her like this.

“Hey, come on baby tell me what’s going on,” you say. “It’s just me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Natasha,” you warn. She knows she needs to just be honest. You already can tell something is off with her.

“The team needs me to go on a mission,” Nat admits.

“Oh.”

“And I know we discussed me having a whole year of desk work once Ali was born,” Nat continues. “But this one is just out of my control. I’ve been working overtime to try and figure a way to get the intel I need without going.”

“But it’s not working,” you finish for her.

“No it’s not,” she agrees. “I’m so frustrated.”

“Natasha, you can’t always fix everything.”

“But I want to,” she says unreasonably.

“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

You lean your head against her arm. It’s the best you can do for now as you juggle an eating baby in your arms.

Ali finishes and Nat takes her back into her arms. You go to the living room to sit together. Nat puts Ali in her play chair.

You two sit together and watch her giggle and play.

“Call Steve and the team,” you say after a few minutes. “Tell them you’ll go on the mission.”

“But-“

“No buts,” you interrupt her. “I can handle baby girl. And you won’t rest until you’ve figured this out.”

“You know I love you, right?” Nat asks.

“And you know I love you, right?” You counter.

“It’s one of the few things I’m sure of these days,” Nat says.

“Come here, Natasha,” you say, holding out your arms for her to fully snuggle into.

You kiss her lips softly before she snuggles into your chest. You hold her tight for as long as she wants.

Everything will be okay as long as you have each other.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #soft mama nat

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

[tripleyeeet]

IF THOUGHTS COULD TEASE (3)

SUMMARY: At the tiefling party, Astarion uses his Illithid powers to offer you another memory.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,771

WARNINGS: Unresolved sexual tension, heavy petting, Illithid abuse at it's finest. Sort of contains spoilers for Act I?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, welcome to day three of Haunted Hoedown! The prompt I chose was why do you keep following me? but I used it pretty loosely to be honest, so... whoops?

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The inner parts of the grove are bustling. Filled to the brim with celebratory bodies, everyone’s huddled up in their respective groups, talking amongst themselves over endless sloshes of ale that dizzy your brain. 

As the bonfire burns, you and the rest of your group glance around with interest. On either side of the party, merchants stand alongside tables of trinkets, grinning and guiding heavy pockets to their nicest wares, while, in the centre, a group of bards play joyous songs, singing along with a group that glides around in circles, dancing in patterned steps that onlookers like you can't help but watch.

“Gods, it’s such a rarity.” Pulling your attention from the dancers, Astarion sips a bottle of wine, turning to face you with a grin. “The whole… heroism thing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a curious look, watching the way his gaze shifts between you and the bards, his lips only extending their excitement. “I guess being helpful has its benefits.” 

“Mm, like this free wine.” He nods —takes another long, careful sip, then smacks his lips. “Although, it’s certainly due for improvement. Tastes a bit of vinegar.” 

Standing at your other side, Wyll peeks around your frame to look at the both of you; a sudden look of interest filling his features. “True, but who are we to look a gift horse in the mouth?” 

After speaking, he offers Astarion a smug expression. One that the silver-haired elf reciprocates with an eye roll before he steps away, discarding any sort of verbal response in favour of moving further into the depths of the party. As he leaves you can’t help but snort, watching as Wyll chuckles and shakes his head, knowing exactly what he’s done. 

“Behave, Wyll. You know he isn’t fond of kindness,” you say, taking a sip of your own bottle. Inside, an amber ale tickles your lips, making you sigh in slight relief as the cool liquid slips down your aching throat.

The battle fought earlier had been rough. An ambush within the goblin camp’s prison had proved tougher than you anticipated, earning yourself a nasty lash to the throat that Shadowheart subsequently healed, still earning yourself a fair bit of bruising. 

Hours later, it still aches with every breath. Stinging with each sound that reverberates through your vocal cords as you pause to hear Wyll speak. 

“He doesn’t seem to mind your’s though.” 

While taking another sip, you raise your brow at his comment, watching the way he merely stares back, waiting for you to clue in. To realize that, despite attempting to hide your ever-growing niceties towards Astarion, it’s somehow become noticeable. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Fangs,” he reiterates, pointing towards one of the merchant tables —towards Astarion who’s still chugging his wine as he eyes up some wares. “You’ve gotten close.” 

“Have we?” You feel the aching of your throat uprise as you speak. Immediately feeling the pain send you into a fit of coughs, prompting Wyll to scoff. 

“You’re not very good at hiding it. Not like he is, anyway.”

As frustrating as it is, you know he’s right. Your deceptions are average at best. In the heat of a tense moment you can lie and cheat no problem but when it comes to Astarion and the way you’ve slowly grown more fond of his presence, it’s difficult to cloak.  

Humming in response, you take another sip of ale, hoping to wash away the pain before letting out a heavy breath. “I’m not hiding anything.” 

“No?” 

Offering the same smugness he gave Astarion just moments before, you quickly find yourself pushed to the edge, scrambling to find your footing within a conversation you never anticipated having.  

Sure, perhaps over the last few days it had become increasingly obvious that you and Astarion had grown rather close. Opting to choose each other’s company over everyone else’s, you could see the assumption brewing behind curious eyes. During raids, it wasn’t odd to see the two of you working together —you posing as the distraction while he went in for the kill from behind. And while looting, it was common knowledge at this point that the two of you would wander away to look for traps.

But obviously, it was all a symptom of continued happenstance. A build-up of time spent together without even realizing it. You weren’t friends by any means. Yes, you were fond of him in a way but, if anything, it was as if you were coworkers at best, working together when need be but still bickering off the clock. 

“I’m only nice to him because he’s nice to me.” It’s a childish answer. One that has Wyll grinning so wide it looks as if he might split in two, making you frown in response. 

“I’m just saying,” he says, pausing to raise his hands in innocence, even though he’s anything but. “The two of you seem to be connecting more and more at the hip as of late.”

“What, like you and Gale?” Your tone is uncharacteristically defensive. At least for Wyll. If it were Astarion you were speaking to the elf would hardly bat an eye. More than likely he’d just wave it off —change the subject and forget, but unfortunately, Wyll isn’t like that. 

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed,” he says sarcastically, watching the way you huff under your breath, taking one last sip before storming off, too tired to entertain the conversation further. 

It’s one thing to be teased by Astarion —with him, it’s practically expected. What with the way his voice carries within a conversation. Regardless of the subject matter, there’s always an inkling of sass in his words. A gentle beratement that often fills you with rage each time you’re at the receiving end of it. 

It’s the same feeling you get as you leave Wyll behind. Glaring forward while wandering the party, drinking your way through the outer rim, knowing it’s all futile. Now that Wyll’s seen the side of you that looks at Astarion as anything other than an annoyance, you’re doomed. Fated to hear a constant onslaught of questions and comments about your blooming camaraderie.  

As you trade your now empty drink for another, you scan the party until your eyes land on Astarion again, watching him slide up to a particularly tall tiefling who smiles at his presence. The two of them chat for a while, both of them leaning in, appearing more interested the deeper the conversation gets. 

It makes you smile seeing him almost happy. Considering that he’s almost always in a sour mood, it’s strange seeing such obvious enjoyment. To see his face light up amidst all the shit you’ve been through over the last few weeks. 

The only other time you’d seen him that happy was after he fed. After he tore his teeth from your sensitive flesh; a newfound energy coursing through his veins. The euphoria laced within his features was nothing short of breathtaking, and now that you know him a bit better you’re aware that when he spoke of the moment being a gift, for once he wasn’t lying. 

“You know it’s rude to stare, darling.” 

You nearly leap at the sound of his voice. Feeling its tone nestle into the crook of your neck, shamefully a soft yelp hurtles from your lips, causing him to laugh just as you turn on your heel. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Immediately he shakes his head and brings his wine to his lips, giving it a lengthy taste before licking his lips. “Just came to see what you want. Seeing as you’ve been relentlessly following me around with that little gaze of yours.”

“Have not,” you scoff, a little too quickly. Your eagerness to lie painting your true intentions in the dirt beneath you. 

“So your eyes haven’t been looking upon me and that gorgeous tiefling over there?”

As his brow quirks up you find yourself scrambling. Searching through your thoughts for some sort of excuse. Perhaps you could simply say that you’re tired. That the alcohol you’ve consumed has managed to perforate your brain —that you’ve lost all sense of vision as you awkwardly blink and force out a yawn. If the performance is good enough you’re sure you could pull it off…

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”

Somehow still amused, Astarion watches as you replace your words with a drink of ale, gulping down a hefty portion that has him smirking through the edge of his lips. “You know I’m joking, right?”

“Hm?”

“About being rude,” he explains. “In fact I’m happy to welcome all sorts of gazes. The more the merrier, my dear.”

Your face screws into a confusing stare that has him narrowing his eyes, looking back with the kind of interest that has your tadpole slithering back and forth.

It’s been a few days since you last felt it move this much. The last being when you and Shadowheart were communicating during a particularly rowdy fight with some ogres. Back then, all it felt like were a few simple twitches back and forth. A moment of confirmation between two parties before the feeling was erased and you were fit to return to normal. Said moment didn’t take up space within your thoughts. All it was was there and gone in a flash, so for Astarion’s occupancy to feel so different suddenly interests you. 

“Is there a reason you’re trying to get inside my head?” 

You raise your brow while he shrugs his shoulders, both of you then standing in silence while the party rages on, wondering what will happen if you let him in. What you’ll see once you inevitably give in to curiosity and open the gates. 

“There’s always a reason.” 

“Care to tell me what that reason is?”

He ponders for a moment, dramatically glancing around the grove before honing his gaze onto the aforementioned tiefling who offers a wave. For a moment, both of them share a look, one that appears almost like a warning before Astarion refocuses on you.

“Isn’t the whole point of these things to show instead of tell?”

He has a point. An unfortunately, stupid and fair point that has you releasing an annoyed breath and nodding your head.

The power of the Illithid, while still greatly unknown to both of you, at base level is just another form of communication. A way to discreetly speak to one another in the form of offered memories. 

“Sure, but having an actual conversation works too, you know.”

Astarion scoffs then, taking another sip that has him licking the points of his teeth before running it along the seams of his lips. Overall, the sight is… nice. The way the organ in his mouth glides across the tips of his canines, threatening to spill his own blood before circling out. 

Even you have to admit it works in winning you over to some degree. 

“Aren’t you enjoying such powers?” As he speaks, he takes a step closer, his base of frame bumping ever so gently into your shoulder as he leans down toward your ear. “Does it not interest you, seeing the world from someone else’s eyes?” 

You crane your neck to look at him fully. To see the teasing expression take over and match the tone of his voice —how it ghosts the shell of your ear. Upon impact, it makes your breath catch inside your sore windpipe, threatening a cough you’re quick to suppress by swallowing another sip of ale.

“Because personally, I think it’s well worth the price of discarded conversation,” he continues. “Why bother wasting my time with words you might not understand when I can just push my thoughts into yours?” 

At that point, you’re actually confused. Lost in translation just as he predicted. You’re not sure what he means by claiming your lack of understanding but you don’t admit it. Instead, you merely just take a step back, eyeing him with suspicion as you slowly let the creature behind your eye accept his message. 

When you do he smiles against the rim of his wine bottle, staring you down with half-open eyes that project the feeling of hands. Soft palms cascading across bare skin. 

A violent shiver runs up your spine almost immediately. The air within your lungs once again catches in your throat as your brows knit together, trying to place where the hands are going. At first, it feels like they’re starting at your hip. For a moment, there’s a rough press —a tightened grip that wraps around the bone, filling the space with a bit of pressure before it slides down your thigh, drawing new patterns. But then you feel it on your other thigh too, tiptoeing across the top before it finds purchase at the outer edge.

“What are y—“ 

Still unaware of the exact intention of the memory, Astarion interrupts your questioning with a simple gesture. An index finger raised to his lips, signalling a silence you reluctantly obey as you feel the hands hold both sides of your thighs, their thumbs ebbing to and fro.

Swallowing hard, you twitch against their movement, pushing your legs together while Astarion watches, his eyes fully immersed in your reactions. The way your face nervously twists once the arrival of hot air cascades between your thighs. How it wafts across your skin like heavy clouds moving through an electrical storm.

The longer it goes on, the more obvious it becomes that he’s amused. That your ongoing discomfort is nothing more than a form of entertainment. A method of his own personal, sadistic torture that has you threatening to sever the connection. 

“Oh, don’t be such a puritan,” he says then, clicking his tongue as he moves a step closer to bridge the gap. “I’m just showing you what I plan on doing later tonight.”

“Tonight?” 

Before he answers, there’s a kiss placed to your inner knee. A needy smack of lips and teeth that drag upward as you stand.

In response your mouth falls open without you realizing, a soft gasp coming out that makes Astarion snort.

“Yes. Are you hard of hearing or something? Distracted maybe?”

You grit your teeth, trying to withstand every sensation that overtakes you. The way the hands drift and the mouths feed —both of them working in tandem as they travel to the same spot you can feel aching within you. 

“It’s alright if you are. I understand. Such feelings can be overwhelming when it’s been a while.” 

Breathing through your nose, you watch as he smugly downs the final sips of his bottle. Throwing his head back, he exposes his neck in a way that makes you tighten your lips together, trying your best to remain calm as the hands that fill your mind continue their ascent, eliciting twitching flesh in their wake. 

At that point, you know you should call it quits —close the doors and lock them up never to be opened again. But something is stopping you. Something pulsing at the back of your mind, filling you with interest.

It’s always been blatantly obvious that Astarion’s friendship has been nothing more than a ruse. A farce carried out only to keep you close. When he treats you with kindness there’s a hidden agreement that looms in the shadows. An unofficial contract that states his affections will be met with trust. With a loyalty that he’ll more than likely never return. 

From the beginning, his intentions have always been ill and you know this. You see it wherever he is —whenever you speak. You can feel its falseness itching your skull each time he touches your skin or calls you pretty names.

It’s what he’s doing now with the Illithid. In the caverns of your mind, he’s showing you the benefits of his allegiance. The potential perks you’ll receive if you’re able to prove your worth, and to put it simply, it’s tempting. And not just for the sake of sex.

Suddenly, there’s a finger that strokes you gently as you stand before him, questioning his authority in the form of a raised brow that’s returned by him discarding the memory. 

Once it’s gone you can feel your breath slowly begin to return. Every thought in your head is clearer, not necessarily crystal, but with fewer distractions you can finally see the hefty rise and fall of his chest. 

“I hope you have fun with your tiefling,” you say then, letting yourself grin in such a petty way that you see his jaw shift ever so lightly before you turn on your heel and walk towards your tent.  -

TAGLIST: @poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjkchk (if you'd like to be added to the taglist fill out this form)

#if thoughts could tease #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

[grey342]

Hii! I’m so glad to see someone currently writing bradley cooper fics because honestly PHIL CAN GET IT. i wanted to request maybe a jealous!phil where reader goes on a friends bachelors trip and knowing Phil’s past he gets all angsty, as smutty as you’d like :) honestly anything you’d write id love!!

Don't leave me

Jealous! Phil x reader

synopsis - Phil's girlfriend goes on a trip for a bachelorette party and he's not happy about it.

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, Phil being dramatic, Phil being jealous (Obv), lingerie, slight handjob, P in V, riding and praise.

authors note - Thank you so much for this request and the sweet compliment! I gotta be honest i'm not a huge fan of angst so I made Phil a lil more dramatic and kinda sassy. I still hope you like it :)

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

This man is gonna be the death of me.

The main thought running through your head whilst packing. His remarks and whines can be heard from the next room.

Your close friend was having her bachelorette party this weekend but, she also wanted to spend a couple of days with the bridal party before her wedding. So you all decided to spend a long weekend in Vegas. And Phil is not happy about it.

"I mean, I don't get why you have to go," you roll your eyes at him, "it's not like she's your best friend."

"Oh yeah? And who is?" You retaliate, smirking.

"Me." He scoffs, as if this is obvious information, walking into the room. You take one look at him and start laughing.

You're not stupid, you kind of guessed why he was so mad about you going but now. He's made it really clear for you.

"What's so fucking funny?" He says confused, placing his hands on his hips. A gesture you would usually find attractive but right now, it's making you laugh even harder.

"I just, uh, I can't believe it," you say in between wheezes, " I mean. I had an idea but now it's so obvious." You quietly chuckle.

"What? What is? You're not making any sense." He declares, clearly getting frustrated. After calming yourself down you finally say-

"You're jealous." Apparently, it's now his turn to burst out laughing.

"What? Where the fuck did you get that idea?" He managed in between laughs.

"You're jealous. You're so insistent on me not going, you're trying to tell me all the bad things about the girls. I mean you literally just said "she's not your best friend, I am." You're SO jealous." You clarify.

He's silent just staring at you. You can see the clogs turning in his head to try and come up with a good response. You swear you can see the light bulb appear on top of his head.

"You're just saying that to make yourself feel better about leaving me. For a whole weekend might I add." He says almost sassily and walks out of the room. Clearly proud of himself.

"Sweetie," you sigh, "it's only three days. I'll be back before you know it. We can text throughout the day and call every night." You try to deal.

"Or I have a better idea... don't go and we can talk all day and all night. Face to face."

You groan in frustration. You cannot believe this is the type of conversation you were having with your grown ass boyfriend. Pick the sassy men they said. You internally roll your eyes.

You walk into the living room to see him practically pouting on the couch. Scoffing, you go to walk away when an idea pops into your head.

"Hey Phil, if you stop complaining right now you can have your present early." He looks at you confused.

"What the fuck do you mean "present"?"

"Well since you are so predictable," you emphasise the last word, " I knew you would act like this when I said i'm going on a trip. So, I bought you something as a "sorry for leaving you, you big baby" gift."

"You did?" You can see the glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yes my little princess but, clearly you are a lot more upset than I anticipated so i'm willing to give it to you early. If you want it that is." You wager. There's a long pause where he's weighing out his options.

"Okay," he clasps his hand together, " I have decided that I would like my present early. BUT I still want one for when you come back." He leans back on the couch, glowing with pride.

"Fine. I'll be right back." He rubs his hand together in anticipation as you leave the room.

Moments later you're shouting down the hall, "close your damn eyes." He grunts in disapproval.

"Okay and open." He does and your met with a groan that also sound like a moan.

"Oh baby." You're stood in front of him in a lingerie set, barely covering anything. Plus it's in his favourite colour.

"Am I forgiven?" You say, moving down to straddle his lap.

"Yes. A million times yes." He exclaims instantaneously as you giggle.

His mouth meets yours passionately, with your teeth and tongues clashing. His hands make their way down to your ass and yours to his chest. Pushing him lightly so his back meets the couch.

His slowly starts to kiss your jaw, then down your neck and finally the top of your chest. He looks up at you, almost pleading, and you give him a look of approval. His hands move around your back to unclasp your bra.

He slides it off at an agonisingly slow pace. When the bra is fully off he stares at your chest in awe. He moves his head down taking one nipple in the mouth and groping the other. You let out a content sigh.

He switches over, repeating the same process as you began to rock slowly, back and forth, on his lap. His moans vibrate on your chest as your breaths turn into pants.

You reach down in between you and start pulling at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, indicating you want them off. He knows what you want and immediately begins to pull them down. You look down and eagerly take him in your hand. You swipe your thumb over the tip and began pumping up and down.

"Fuck.." He groans. You push your panties over to the side and slide onto him. Both of you moaning in unison. You'll never get used to the way he feels, filling you up perfectly.

Once you're both ready, you begin to move back and forth, riding him. His hands take sanctuary on your hips, slowly guiding you. You lean down, placing your mouth on his, capturing his groans in your mouth.

"You're doing so good. Riding my dick so well baby, my good girl." He says against your mouth. He reaches down and starts to rub slow circles on your clit. You whimper at the contact.

"Oh fuck, do that again." Obeying his orders you do it again. He uses his other hand to begin assisting you in bouncing up and down. Your movements begin to change pace, going faster.

His groans and your whimpers becoming louder. He dick twitching inside of you, indicating he's close. You ride faster and bounce harder. He in turn, quickens his movements on your clit and his fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises for later.

"Oh shit, Phil.. I'm close."

"I know honey, I know hold on a lil longer." He pants. Your cries being the response. Your head thrown back, eyes screw shut.

"Hey, look at me. I wan't you to look at me when you cum." He demands. You immediately open your eyes and stare into his. His gaze possessive.

"Oh fuck, Phil." You whine.

"Let go baby, give it to me." That send you over the edge. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the pleasure taking over and your body began to shake.

"Oh shit, oh shit." He says as he fills you up, head resting in the crook of your neck.

Coming down from your highs, he lifts his head and smiles at you.

"What?"

"You're so beautiful." He places a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Mhm, i'm still going." You stand up and start walking towards the bedroom.

"Ah! Come on honey, i'm the love of your life! You can't leave me!" He calls out, following you.

#bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #the hangover #x reader #smut

[lanadelnegan]

could you do jdm x male reader? maybe mostly angst and possibly a bit of smut? literally whatever you feel like writing is perfectly fine

You Belong to Me

Negan x Male Reader

Summary: Negan and y/n (Alexandria’s leader) have unspoken feelings for each other, that lead to frustration, anger, and smut.

Warnings: 18+, smut, EXTREMELY FILTHY IM SORRY, anal, rimming, blowjob, spit kink, choking, cum play, angst, negan being a dominant verbal zaddy

Note: I’ll be honest.. I finished this whole thing before I realized you asked for jdm and not negan. 😭 I PROMISE I’ll do a jdm one too. But I hope you also enjoy this one. I think it might be my favorite so far. 😘

Note#2: and I know you asked for a “bit of smut” but I got carried away and well, it’s a lot. And it’s filthy. Forgive me. 🧎‍♀️ I’m terrible at following directions, clearly.

Your jaw twitches as Negan walks past you, making sure to brush his hand against yours as he happily whistles the melody that's grown to haunt you over the past couple months.

"Come on, y/n. Let's see what kinda goodies you got in the cupboard."

Some bystanders watch as you follow Negan into your own house, allowing him to browse around.. not that you have a choice.

You glare at Negan with your arms crossed while you lean against the frame of your kitchen entrance.

"Who were you before all this?" You ask him and it must catch him off guard because he turns from the open fridge to face you, raising his thick brows.

"Before what?" He chuckles amused. "Before the dead started walking?"

You answer him with a simple nod.

"Why, y/n? You think if you play mind games.. try to get in my fucking head.. that I'll just what.. stop? I told you already. You belong to me." He approaches you slowly, tilting his head to the side. "Do I need to remind you of that?"

"Not trying to get in your head. Just making conversation since you're standing in my damn kitchen, making yourself at home."

"Well, ya know what. I wasn't planning on settling in. But since you're offeri-"

"I'm not." You say through your teeth, making it clear that he's not welcome here. Negan looks at you at eye level as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That.. is no way to treat your new house guest, y/n. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna bake us some fucking cookies." He walks away, leaving a scent trail of leather and cigarettes behind as he opens your cabinets, pulling out what he needs to get started.

You look to the front door, contemplating your next move and strategically thinking of how to get this psycho out of your house.

"The supplies.. your men are loading them up. Don't you need to leave soon?"

"Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me. Could you be a fucking doll and go tell Simon to head on out without me?" His smile widens as he turns on the faucet, washing his hands.

Hesitantly, you do as he says, leaving to find Simon and explaining the situation before heading back to your house. Some fellow Alexandrians watch you curiously before Carol quickly catches up to you.

"Y/n! What's going on? Where's Negan?" She asks panicked, noticing the Saviors are leaving without him.

"In my fucking house. He's staying."

Her brows crinkle as she walks quickly beside me, trying to keep up. "How long?"

You shrug annoyed. "Keep an eye on things for me while he's here. I'm not letting him outta my sight."

Carol nods, turning away and you jog up the steps to your house. You enter your house and the smell of freshly baked cookies fills your nose.

"You gotta try these, y/n. I would make one hell of a fucking house wife. First the spaghetti, now cookies? I gotta stop spoiling you like this." He takes a bite out of one, groaning at the taste before holding the plate out for you to take one.

"Hmph." You breathe out annoyed before grabbing one and taking a bite, dropping it back on the plate.

"Welllll?" Negan asks expectantly.

"Tastes like shit." You glare at him as the smile on his mouth fades into a scowl. He nods disappointedly as he slides the plate onto the counter, walking past you without a word.

You turn and watch him disappear up the stairs before following after him, smiling to yourself proudly at the accomplishment of hurting his feelings.

He makes his way to your room, walking in without hesitation and kicking his shoes off.

"What the hell are you doing?" You ask following him. "This is my room."

"Wrong, y/n. Whatever you have.. belongs to me. So, this room? Is mine." His voice is deep with anger as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I would love a hot shower.. in my bathroom." Negan announces, walking to the master bathroom attached to your room.

You refuse to let him stay in your room by himself, so you defiantly kick off your shoes next to his, slipping off your pants until you're left in boxers and a black t-shirt. You fall into bed defeatedly, listening to the sound of running water coming from the half open bathroom door.

You start to doze off before the water shuts off, leaving nothing but loud silence.

Negan sighs loudly from the bathroom. "The fuck are your towels?" You hear him rustling through the cabinets under the sink.

"You took them all last time." You call out.

"Goddamn it." He walks out of the bathroom, completely bare and wet. You shamelessly watch as water runs down his body, traveling through the v-shape in his abdomen before reaching his long, veiny cock.

"Like what you see, y/l/n? ... Told you my dick was bigger than yours." Your eyes quickly snap away as he uses his dirty shirt to wipe the excess water from his toned body.

"Gonna need to borrow some boxers unless... you'd rather me sleep in the nude... From the look on your face, you'd probably prefer that anyway, huh?" Negan chuckles and you run a hand down your frustrated face, looking up at the ceiling.

"Top drawer."

Negan makes his way towards your dresser, opening the drawer and browsing through. You can't help but let your eyes roam to his backside, admiring his firm ass. His eyes catch yours in the dresser mirror in front of him and you freeze, holding his eye contact.

The corner of his mouth raises like he caught you red handed and he chuckles as he bends, slipping your boxers up his long legs.

You get up, frustrated with yourself and quickly walk to bathroom, desperate to get away from him, but he cuts you off.

Your jaw ticks as you look down between the two of you, refusing to give him anymore attention.

"Get outta my way Negan."

His smirk widens as his hands go to rest lazily on his hips. "You gonna make me?"

You shake your head annoyed and push past him. "I'm not fucking doing this with you." You slam the bathroom door shut behind you, leaning against the wall and exhaling a deep breath.

You attempt to think about anything but him, trying to calm the growing length beneath your boxers.

"Fuck." You whisper out, frustrated with yourself. The bathroom mirror is still foggy from Negan's shower and your mind drifts back to the thought of his wet body emerging from the steam.

You look down at your hardening cock and bite your lip, keeping your hands by your sides and restraining from touching yourself. You finally compose yourself after a few moments, tucking yourself under the waistband of your underwear and letting your shirt hang over.

When you exit the bathroom, Negan is already laying in your bed on top of the covers, one hand behind his head while the other rests on his hairy stomach. You don't allow yourself to look as you climb into the bed next to him.

"I want to make one thing clear, Negan. I am sleeping in my bed for the simple fact that.. it's my fucking bed and I'm not letting you kick me outta my own damn room. Don't get any weird fucking ideas."

Negan chuckles. "Case you forgot, I have a whole fucking handful of wives back home. If anyone in this bed is getting any ideas, it's you."

"Sure is strange that you're in my house when you have so many wives at home, isn't it? .......Did you kill their families too? Force them to be with you?"

Negan turns his head to you, his expression serious now. "You should probably go sleep in the other room. Before I lose my goddamn temper."

"Like I said, this is MY fucking room. YOU get out." You throw the covers over yourself as if to convince him you're not leaving.

"Fuck it." Negan stands up to leave the room but turns to face you when he reaches the door. "You know why you belong to me, y/n? .. ... Because your people don't respect you. You got them into this shit because of your own choices. I just happen to reap the benefits of your own stupidity."

You throw the covers off, angrily making your way over to him before stopping directly in front of his face. "And you think your people respect you?! You've tortured them. Abused them. They don't respect you, Negan. They're scared of you. There's a difference."

"Are you scared of me, y/n?" Your eyes widen when you feel his dick twitch against yours. He subtly presses his body closer to you, barely touching his cock to yours through your boxers.

You noticeably gulp and his eyes drop to your throat, making him grin.

"No." You breathe out, glancing down to watch his tongue lick his bottom lip.

He softly chuckles before leaning into your ear. "Then why do you have goosebumps right now?"

If you didn't have them before he said that, you definitely do now from his raspy voice vibrating against your ear and his dick rubbing against yours through the thin material.

"From your body language, you are most definitely scared.. or turned on.. One of the two.. Guess it just depends on which one you'll admit to." Negan grins devilishly, daring you to make a move.

You stare at him for a moment before spitting angrily in his face, making his eyes shut tightly as he wipes your saliva off his beard.

You don't have time to regret your decision because Negan's hand suddenly grips your throat, tightening and walking you backwards towards the bed. "That's how you want it to be, huh? Good.... I can be rough too... On your fucking knees."

You don't fight him, knowing he'll win so you willingly drop to your knees in front of him, keeping your hands by your sides.

He pulls out his semi-hard cock, stroking it a few times in your face until it grows to full length. "Gonna put that fucking smart ass mouth to use. Open." He demands.

You don't move, and instead glare up at him through your brows, ignoring his request.

Negan chuckles darkly before bending down, tightly squeezing your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

"Open. Or I'll choose another hole." He grins before spitting directly into your mouth.

You reluctantly obey, allowing him to enter your mouth and he gives you no warning before ramming his cock deep down your throat. You choke at the sudden feeling, attempting to jerk away but his fingers roughly push your head forward, holding your face against him until your nose is pressed into his pubic hair.

You feel lightheaded as if you could black out before he quickly yanks your hair back, causing you to exhale a deep breath. He pulls you up completely this time, bringing your face close to his.

Negan's eyes search yours. "Tell me to fucking stop." His breathing is erratic and his voice is deeper and raspier than before.

You stare back at him silently, giving him consent without using your words. He smirks before turning you quickly and positioning you until your knees are on the bed and your face in a pillow with your ass in the air.

He climbs on the bed behind you, yanking your boxers down and sliding them off your legs until your bare ass is exposed to him. You feel his large hands rub your ass cheeks before squeezing roughly and spreading them apart.

"Mm. I am gonna have some fun with you." He says before diving in, pressing his face into your ass and using his tongue to pleasure you. Your cheeks blush and you moan at the sensation of his tongue swirling around inside of you.

After a few moments of licking, he pulls back, spitting on your hole and leaning back until he's lined up behind you. His finger lightly circles your hole before pushing through, knuckle deep. "Mm, goddamn you are tight."

His finger retreats, leaving you empty and desperate for more. "You ever taken a dick before, y/n? You think you're ready for me? He chuckles, teasing the tip of his cock against your hole.

"Negan.. shut.. up. Just fuck me."

"Beg."

You remain stubbornly silent at first, but when he starts to get up from the bed, you give him. "Please."

"Sorry, what was that?" Negan positions himself behind you again.

"Please. Fuck me."

Your eyes widen with surprise when Negan reaches around to your face, fish-hooking your mouth with the finger that was just inside you and jerking you back until your body is pressed against his. Chills cover your body as his low voice whispers in your ear. "Can't fucking hear you." His finger leaves your mouth, gripping your throat instead and squeezing firmly.

"Please.. Please fuck me, Negan." You beg louder and he lets you go, pushing you back down into the mattress.

He enters you fully and suddenly in one motion, not giving you any time to adjust and you cry out at the pain. His heavy balls slap against yours from underneath and he pounds you relentlessly, harder and deeper with each thrust.

"So fucking tight." Negan groans through his teeth. "Wish your people could see you right now. Bent over and moaning from my cock."

He grabs your hair, yanking you up again until his mouth is next to your ear. "You think they'd be disappointed, y/n? Knowing whose dick you're taking?"

"Shut up."

"What if they knew how much you liked it?" He reaches around you, gripping your hard, leaking cock in his hand while still pounding you. "How this cock throbs for me…. Look. At. That." Precum leaks from your tip as you both watch Negan's thumb rub it around on your tip. From this angle, his dick presses perfectly into your g-spot with each thrust and you moan louder when you feel your orgasm builds up inside you.

Negan releases your cock and pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you over until you're laying on your back.

He positions himself in between your legs and pushes back into you, making you both moan out together.

You reach for your dick, desperately needing to stroke it but Negan grabs your wrist, pinning it above your head with the other. "No fucking way. You belong to me, remember? This dick belongs to me. I'm making you cum."

You arch yourself into him until his dick finds your g-spot again, hitting it hard over and over.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck." You cry out as your cum spills all over your stomach. Negan groans as he watches you come undone, pumping into you faster.

“Gonna cum in this tight fucking ass.. cause it belongs to me too. That okay with you?”

Before you can tell him no, he stops thrusting, holding himself deep inside of you. “Ahh Fuck. Fuck.” You feel him pulse against your walls over and over, filling you to the brim before he finally pulls out.

Just when you think it’s over and the guilt starts to set in, Negan pushes your legs back further, pressing his hands against the back of your knees as he looks down at your hole. “Lemme see you push it out.”

“No.. wha-“

“Now.”

You sigh, giving in once again as your muscles flex and you feel his load leak out of you and run down.

Negan swipes it up with his finger, pushing it into your mouth suddenly, making you taste him.

Your brows scrunch together angrily as you try to turn your head and spit his fingers out but he overpowers you until you give in, sucking his seed off his fingers. You can’t deny he tastes fucking good and it makes you moan.

“Taste good?” Negan chuckles, watching you enjoy the taste of him.

“Much better than your cookies.”

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[kitkat238984]

Stupid Cupid

Summary: Only your dear friend, Dante, would be the one to get so tired of your obliviousness to one another's love that he'd force you both to go on a blind date.

And how do you two return the favour? Well, it's an eye for an eye, right?

Notes: This one's not all that good to be honest.

5426 words.

“Y/N”. 

You glanced up from your phone at the clean-cut man with brown curled hair and a neat goatee sat under his chin. You raised an expecting eyebrow at Dante who leaned his weight on his hands against the table you were sitting at, leaning over and towering over you. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, ending the tense silence. 

“Tyler likes you”.  

Not this again. 

You sighed and went back to scrolling through Instagram. 

“No, he doesn’t”. 

“How would you know that?” 

“I just do”. 

It was his turn to sigh and drop his head, deciding to sit down on the chair opposite you. He knew there was no use in convincing you - he’d tried countless times - yet he still thought that maybe one day you’ll be all like “Oh my god, really? I’m going to give Tyler a biiiiig kiss!” 

At first he made little comments like “stop flirting, you two” whenever you both were laughing at something and simply having fun. 

Then it was the suggestive winks and nudges which were attempts to direct your attention to one another in a more romantic light (which was obviously to no use). 

He once made a remark about how you never date anyone or ever have a boyfriend and you promptly came out saying, “It’s hard to date when I’m head over heels for Tyler”. You’d responded so casually that the Martin brother had almost laughed it off, but he quickly realised what you'd just admitted to. 

Why weren’t you embarrassed? Was it sarcasm? You didn’t acknowledge your response at all, not even a single movement to indicate how you were feeling. 

This all led him to that moment. The moment where he spent every waking hour tormented having to watch the both of you as clueless and ignorant as the other, like children lost at the grocery store looking for your parents. 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” he asked for maybe the fourth or fifth time this week. 

“Nah I’m good”. 

Of course that was your response. Of course you acted like you didn’t care. Of course you wouldn’t be willing to even take a chance, to believe one of her friends, one of Hook’s closest friends. He considered giving up, but for some reason he felt like he was their cupid, the one to shoot the arrow for two of his very good friends. 

“Alright then”, he replied. 

You expected Dante to declare that the end of his attempt to make a fool out of you, however, he still hadn’t left the table and continued to stare at you, almost trying to study you. 

Feeling the eyes piercing into you, you looked up from your phone again, them not having left the screen for the whole encounter. 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but when are you going to stop?” you asked, tired of being asked the same questions religiously. 

“Stop what?” 

“Trying to make me and Tyler a thing”. 

Dante rolled his eyes and shook his head in comprehension. Did you even hear yourself? 

“When you both realise you’re in love with each other”. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’ll never happen. He’s not interested”. 

You wanted to enjoy your lunch in peace and apparently that wasn’t going to happen here so you stood up and started collecting your things. He never meant to annoy you; he wanted quite the opposite, trying to make you happy with the person you’d liked for so long, but the frustration from not being able to get through to you was starting to drive him crazy. 

“I give up. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t with you. You’re impossible!” 

You gaped at the hypocrisy, taking offence. 

It was true. You had a uh… shy liking towards the hooded man who mostly kept to himself, ‘shy liking’ being a major understatement. You were very good friends… that’s all… and that was your problem. You didn’t let it get the better of you hence why you constantly brushed it off whenever Dante brought up the subject. It was easier to ignore the feelings and let everyone live their happy single lives than pine over a stupid boy like some teenage girl. 

“I’m impossible?! Try talking to a guy who’s never shown any interest in you and then have another friend insist that he’s crazy for you”. 

You turned your back to him and walked out of the catering room in an attempt to find a more private space to finish your lunch. 

So that ‘s what the problem was, huh? Hook just wasn’t showing enough interest in you. 

Dante sat there, head in hands, desperately trying to think of his next approach. He knew he should stop pestering you because he didn’t want to damage the friendship you’d made over the years, but he was way too committed to the whole stupid cupid act to give up then. 

He’d have to speak to Hook. 

— 

“Y/N likes you”. 

Similar to how you were before, Tyler was hunched over his manspread legs, staring at his phone, his posture and hoodie being his only recognisable properties as his face was almost completely hidden by his hood. 

“Yeah, right”, he replied, eyes not leaving his phone. He, too, had experienced countless of Dante’s naggings. 

Dante - who was standing directly in front of him - crossed his arms and readjusted his footing, knowing this conversation would be as hopeless as all the others. 

“What makes you think that she doesn’t?” 

“She likes Ethan Page”. 

Wha…? Where the hell did that come from? 

He was quick to respond. “She doesn’t even talk to Ethan Page”. 

“All the women here like Ethan Page”. 

“...alright then”. 

As quickly as the conversation had started, Dante Martin walked away, unable to understand what exactly had just happened. 

Had she ever even spoken to Ethan Page? 

He got to the end of the hall and stopped dead in his tracks, finally realising that Hook had just been trying to cause confusion so he’d leave. Great. Very clever. 

He twisted his head to glance at his friend who was looking back at him, a smirk spread across his face which turned into a snicker as he went back to concentrate on whatever was on his phone. 

This would take a lot more effort than he was currently putting in. If he really wanted his two friends to be happy, he would have to be a lot smarter than simply telling them the truth. Apparently, honesty was not as reliable as it should be. 

— 

You were inside the locker room, doing some quick stretches before your upcoming match, Dante standing a few feet in front of you, but this time not to convince you of Tyler’s feelings, strangely. 

“I’m not going”, you said straight. 

“It’s only a little blind date. My treat. It’ll help you get your mind off Tyler”. 

He knew he was pushing his luck asking you to agree to go on a date with a complete stranger, but it was vital for her to accept for his dastardly plan to go ahead. 

“I don’t need help, but I do need to go to my match”. 

You attempted to pass him but he swooped his body in front of yours at the last second second, preventing you from leaving. You could have sworn this was classed as harassment. 

“Just one date tomorrow. If you’re still not happy after twenty minutes then text me and I’ll call you pretending there’s an emergency so you can leave”. 

You really did not want to go out on a date as there simply wasn’t any time for it in your schedule. Didn’t he know you had a very successful wrestling career to keep up? Perhaps if you had more time to think about it, you would have come to understand that Dante was hiding some sort of trick up his sleeve, however, in a rush to get to your match which was starting in 15 minutes, your brain took in every word at face value. 

“Ugh fine. One date. But I swear, if I turn up and he’s holding a bouquet of red roses and uses the words ‘ladies first’, I’m doing a 180 and sprinting out of there”. 

His lips turned into a victorious smile. “You won’t be disappointed”. 

Now it was Hook’s turn. 

— 

Hook would be easy to convince. Dante knew exactly what would sway him. 

“Heeeyyy how about a date tomorrow night?” 

Hook was taken aback by the question and stared with a shocked look plastered over his face. 

“No no no!” Dante scrounged for a clarification. “Not with me, dude. With a girl I know. It might make you feel better”. 

The questioning look he once gave had now been shaken off. “Fuck that”. 

“Come on, I’m paying for the whole thing. And if you don’t like it I’ll take you to a strip club and pay for everything”. 

Hook considered his options very briefly. A blind date that could potentially turn into love, and if that fails, he gets a chick’s ass to make the ‘heartbreak’ all better. Works either way. 

“When and where?” 

Dante mentally smirked in deviousness and satisfaction. He knew he had won. 

— 

You only had thirty minutes to get yourself ready for your date, so heavy makeup wasn’t exactly an option like it usually would be for going out. You chose to wear a F/C satin mini dress that hugged your waist, kept up with stringed straps that tied on the top of your shoulders. You decided to show yourself off a little and not take the modesty approach you normally take with your baggy hoodies and leggings you wear around backstage. 

Your date would be in for a treat, that was for sure. 

You took a taxi to the restaurant Dante told you to be at and sprayed yourself with perfume a couple of times and made sure you looked presentable before opening the door to the place. You might as well try and make some sort of an effort. 

You knew that you weren’t meant to be excited about this date - and honestly, you weren’t all that much - but you thought about what Dante had told you about trying to get over Hook. Maybe it was time you got yourself out there and date someone because your chances with him weren’t exactly looking good. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. I’m supposed to be meeting someone”, you told the lady who greeted you. 

“Of course. Someone’s already paying for your dinner tonight, correct?” 

You nod. “Right this way”. 

You weaved around tables of seemingly happy couples (you didn’t know about their personal problems) and past booths of families with rowdy children until you were stopped at one of the tables for two. 

Your eyes travelled from their chest that leaned forward into the table and his elbows resting on the surface, to the ties of their light grey hoodie, one being twiddled with his fingers. Then you saw the sharp, well-defined jawline that had quietly driven you crazy for the past 3 years. Your eyes finally reached his cold ones that peered into your own. 

He must’ve been as surprised as you were. 

You thanked the lady and sat down opposite to Hook, who swiftly scanned your body before it was hidden by the table. With any luck, he’d be able to get a closer look later. He figured it was best if he didn’t mention that he could’ve gone to a strip club, not wanting to put you off, and ultimately preferring the date over anything else. 

“This…” you began. “...is definitely not what I expected”. 

“Can’t say I’m complaining”, Tyler said, glancing at the only part of the dress visible to him which just so happened to be where your breasts were. Coincidence? Could have been, but probably not. 

“Did you know about this?” You ignored the butterflies that flew in your stomach caused by his teasing and leaned into the table slightly as to whisper your question. It wouldn’t have made a difference, of course, as no one around you would have cared why you were here. 

“No. Dante told me to come here for a blind date”. 

Dante, you sneaky prick. 

“He said the same to me!” You avoided the few strange looks that were shot across to you for raising your voice. “So uhh what now?” 

You tried to cover the blush that had risen in your cheeks with a hand, having no knowledge whether it was actually effective or not. 

“Make the most of a free dinner I guess”, Tyler chuckled, making you feel a lot more comfortable about the situation. “You’d better be hungry because we’re going for the most expensive of everything. Let’s bleed him dry”. 

You thought it was hilarious that Hook wanted to take advantage of Dante’s good deed, even if it was plastered in deceit. You wanted to believe he was joking about ordering the most expensive options, but you wouldn’t put it past the man to take the opportunity for the upper hand, and you certainly wouldn’t say no to a good meal. 

“I can get behind that”, you took a look at the menu, immediately spotting your choice of weapon. “I think the seventy dollar steak has my name written all over it”. 

“That’s the spirit”. Your eyes met in sync and you found yourselves unintentionally exchanging smirks. 

“Seriously, though. What steak is that expensive?” 

“Good ones”. 

“It better be”. 

Throughout the night, the two of you - not only having drained your friend’s bank account - had more fun than either ever had before or could ever imagine. You somehow ended up playing footsies under the table and the occasional knee collided with the roof of it, resulting in some snobby couple next to you giving you both disgusted looks, glancing at your legs. They must have thought you were trying to pull off some Fifty Shades Of Grey shit. 

You decided to order a sharing dessert platter which was a lot more romantic and cliche than you’d anticipated, which was bizarre for you because you absolutely despised all of the date cliches. They just made you cringe and they got boring after experiencing the same things time and time again. 

And why was this time different? Because you were with Hook. You were with Tyler. You knew him and you knew he didn’t give a crap about giving you a bunch of flowers or trying to please you by being someone he’s not. All he cared about was that he was happy, you were happy, and you both were having a great time. That’s all you needed. 

After eating one of the chocolate dipped waffle pieces and stopping yourself from moaning in delight at the amazing mouthgasm it gave you, Tyler sent you an amused look. 

“What is it?” you asked, licking the chocolate that dripped onto your fingers because you didn’t bother trying to act classy by using one of the skewers. Elegance was overrated. 

“You have chocolate all around your mouth”. 

You immediately began to lick your lips, imagining how much of a child you must have looked. 

“It’s still everywhere”, he snickered at your frustrated face as you tried to lick it all away. How much chocolate could be on your face anyway? 

You gave up and reached to grab a napkin when Hook’s hand grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t lift it to your mouth. The entire time, practically peering into your soul. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him. 

“What would you do if I licked the rest of the chocolate off so you don’t have to?” 

You felt your heart thump and you felt it might leap out of your chest, the inflamed feeling of the skin contact on your wrist rapidly circulating around your entire body. 

“Didn’t take you to be a guy who’s into food play”. You enjoyed teasing him. He let out yet another low chuckle and released your wrist, you instinctively rubbing the area he was holding, only now realising how tight his grip was and how much you enjoyed it. 

“Here”, he said whilst grabbing the napkin you were originally reaching for and wiping the chocolate you’d missed around your mouth. It was sweet. Cliche but sweet. 

After finishing your meals, you decided to share a taxi to the hotel you were both staying at, and spent the entire five minute journey talking about how blind you both had been. 

“So basically, you’re so cool that I mistook it for you simply not being interested in me?” you asked, finally realising where you’d gone wrong all this time. 

“If that’s how you want to see it. I always knew you had a thing for me”. 

“Oh fuck off”, you laughed off, playfully nudging his arm. “You were as oblivious as I was”. 

“Maybe. But you didn’t make it easy”. 

“I didn’t make it easy? Maybe if you’d looked at me every once in a while then you would’ve seen me looking back”. 

Tyler set a small smile and wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer, his hand fitting perfectly in the crescent of your waist.  

Screw seatbelts, right? 

“It doesn’t matter now”, he told you. “And we can thank Dante for that of all people”. 

You did feel a little guilty for not believing Dante for all the times he told you that Hook was into you, which sounded like you were back in high school and your friends were gossiping about their latest crush that were ‘totally into them’ - except they weren’t. 

“We’re getting revenge on him, right?” you ask. 

“Oh, yeah, baby. No doubt”. 

— 

Dante was thrilled that you hadn’t messaged him to get you out of the date with Hook - not that he thought you would once you’d seen who your blind date was. So when Collision came about, he was ready to tease you both and gloat at how right he’d been all along. 

The first person he crossed paths with was Hook who was sitting on the steps that led to the backstage entrance to the elevated seating. As per usual, he had his earpods in and was snacking on a bag of chips. He’d probably benefit from going outside once in a while. 

He looked to see who had sat next to him, tilting his head upon greeting his friend, Hook’s mind going over the plan you and him had formed at the door of your hotel room before you uh… got to know each other a little more than you already did. 

“So…”, Dante began with a sly grin formed upon his face. “Did you like her?” 

Hook looked away, scrunching his face in the process. “She was alright I guess. A bit awkward. Personally, not my type”. 

Dante’s face dropped, all previous hope completely drained away. 

How? He was fucking in love with her the other day. What the hell happened? 

“But you said you liked her”. 

Hook’s face twisted in confusion. “When did I say that? I’d never even met her”. 

Oh no. Oh shit. This can’t be happening.  

With a long sigh, Dante’s hands covered and rubbed at his face, hoping that what he thought might have happened, didn’t. 

“Please say we’re both talking about Y/N”. 

“Y/N? No. The woman you set me up with. What was her name again? Dalia or Delia or something like that”. 

An frustrated groan left Dante’s throat and he leaned back, ignoring the jabbing feeling in his back from the stairs. 

“I set you up with Y/N, man. What the fuck happened?” He wasn’t shouting, but there was a clear element of bitterness behind his words. 

“I wish it was Y/N. At least then my date wouldn’t have tried to call the cops”. 

Dante didn’t think his face could fall anymore, yet somehow he managed it. He was speechless. As much as he wished he could get up and leave, pretending none of this happened, he needed to know more. 

“Tell me. What. Happened”. 

Hook was unfazed by the irritation in his friend’s voice, and he casually continued eating his chips whilst retelling his version of the night’s events. 

“Well, you see…”, he started, shuffling to make himself more comfortable. “The waitress took me to the table and I was there for like five minutes, man, and she didn’t turn up”. 

Dante rolled his eyes at his impatience but continued to listen to his story. 

“So like I turned around and saw a woman sitting at a table by herself so I must’ve been at the wrong table, and I went over to her, tried my best to be the gentleman I am but she was like… being a bitch”. 

Yeeeaaahhh Dante didn’t believe that for a second. Hook being a gentleman? Some woman being a bitch for no reason? He wasn’t buying it. 

…what did he do to that poor woman? 

“And what exactly did you say to this woman?” 

“Literally all I said was ‘this is awkward’ and she agreed, asked what I was doing and said her husband would be back any minute. Like, I swear she was alone the entire time I was in the restaurant. If she didn’t want to date me, she should’ve just said rather than coming up with some stupid fucking excuse like she didn’t know who I was”. 

There was no way this was actually happening. He wasn’t this stupid… was he? 

Dante wasn’t actually sure on that one. He knew he was a quiet, furtive man who usually kept to himself, and that he was incompetent enough to not realise how infatuated you were with him, but was it really that bad that he would harass a random woman in a crowded restaurant? Probably. 

“Oh and the whole time I was there? No sign of any husband. Fucking lame excuse”. 

Dante rubbed the corners of his eyes hoping he’d wake up from this strange dream he hoped he was having. 

“So you left after that, right?” he asked. 

“Sort of. After I tried to kiss her”. 

The relieved sigh midway through was cut short and Dante thought he might have forgotten how to breathe, but sucked in a breath whilst shaking with anger. 

“Why the hell would you try to kiss her if she said she wasn’t interested?!”

“Her story was bullshit, man! I thought she was playing hard to get but she tried to slap me”. 

“Tried?” 

“Obviously I wasn’t going to take that shit. Bitch was crazy. Where’d you even get her?” 

Dante ignored his question - baffled by the complexity of the situation - and asked one of his own. 

“And you didn’t see anyone there you knew?” 

“Nah, man”. 

“Got it”. 

He now had a new mission - to find you and ask why you’d bailed out on the date. Hook’s story was far too in detail to be made up, and - in hindsight - he should have expected you to not turn up to the restaurant without any warning. 

He didn’t turn back when Hook asked where he was going. He kept walking at his fast pace until he saw you outside the locker rooms, chatting to Anna Jay about God knows what. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care what you were talking about or even if either of you were talking when he walked right up to you and asked, “Why didn’t you go on the blind date?” 

You shot him a look of shock and confusion causing Anna Jay to leave the both of you alone, much to your dismay. 

“What are you talking about? I did and he didn’t show”. You crossed your arms and leant against the wall behind you, not thrilled at his interruption. 

“That’s not possible because the person I set you up with was there and said that you never showed”. 

“Well then we must have missed each other because I was there for ten minutes and he didn’t come”. 

Dante felt dizzy with the number of times he’d rolled his eyes that day. You and Hook were just as impatient as the other, not bothering to wait a minute longer before declaring the unlikely as fact. 

“What, so you just left after that then? Was that it? You didn’t even call me to tell me he wasn’t there?” 

“Hey, I was going to wait. Ain’t no way was I going to skip out on dinner. I just got… distracted”. 

Dante narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He could tell by the way you bit your lip and averted your eyes that you were hiding something. 

“Distracted how?” he asked, slowly. You struggled to hide the smirk that begged to show on your face. You were relishing in the thought of lying through the skin of your teeth to him. 

“I may or may not have been given a few… suggestive glances from a man a few tables along from mine, and I may or may not have met him in the restroom, and I may or may not have let him do me in front of the mirror… turns out he was married… ” 

This was far worse than what Dante could have imagined, especially after the harassment story he got from Hook before coming here to find you. The both of you were going to get the biggest scolding of your lives and he planned to end the tension between you there and now. 

“You had sex with a married man?” You nodded. “Did his wife not try to find him?” 

“No. We were gone for like twenty minutes and I don’t even think she got up from the table”. 

“But I would’ve thought you of all people wouldn’t stoop to such-” 

Dante’s thoughts stopped him in his tracks and all the pieces of the puzzle very quickly came together. 

The woman with the missing husband. The harassment. The married man with you for a while. It all made sense now. You must have entered the restaurant first, went to the back with the man, then Hook arrived and bothered the woman so she didn’t have an opportunity to look for her husband, and because he was with you, Hook thought she was lying. 

In a twisted way, Dante was satisfied that he managed to solve the mystery like Sherlock Holmes as he now understood where you’d both gone wrong and could empathise slightly with both predicaments. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t utterly infuriated. After all, you were thick as shit and somehow slipped out of each other’s arms once again by some coincidence, but he could work with that now. 

Without another word, Dante grabbed ahold of your wrist and began dragging you through the twists and turns of the backstage area, dodging and weaving through the many people rushing to get things ready before showtime. He was focused on his mission like Tom Cruise. He’d acquire many characters trying to pair the two of you together apparently. 

You, however, could only think back to that mind-melting moment two nights ago when Tyler had grasped the exact wrist being held now. It was nothing like the grip that gave you that tingly feeling throughout your body, but you could still imagine. 

You were pulled into one of the large entry hallways and came to register Dante’s plan when you caught a glimpse of the very person you had just been thinking about sitting on the steps. 

So antisocial. 

You let out a small yelp when flung in the direction of Hook, but you managed to catch yourself on the railing. Hook, now noticing the both of you, sent out sceptical looks before putting his stuff on the step next to him and pushing himself up to stand beside you. 

“Alright”, Dante led, glancing back and forth between you both. “I didn’t think it would come to this, but now we have to talk about how you destroyed some happy couple’s marriage”. 

You expertly acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about just so he could keep going to see how long you’d be able to carry the lie out for. Oh, how pleased you were. 

“I set this blind date up for the two of you and the fact that you by some means ruined a nice relationship instead and not see how smitten you are for one another is beyond my comprehension. You’re both insufferable”. 

“It couldn’t have been that good of a marriage if he was willing to have sex with me”, you chimed in. Why not make it a little worse? 

He continued to rant about his own struggles and how he’s tried to help this entire time but neither of you care blah blah blah. In all honesty, you forgot he was talking a few seconds into his rambling. 

You felt a touch on the small of your back before curling around your waist like it had done in the taxi and you turned your head, making instant eye contact with Tyler who you’d been texting non-stop since that night. You weren’t officially official by any means, but you could tell you were only a few intimate moments away from it finally happening. You did things that night. Beautiful, magical things. 

You reciprocated his affection with your head resting on his shoulder, Dante not having caught on to you as he was too busy pacing back and forth, ranting about how bad he felt for the ‘married couple’ you destroyed. 

“This was worth it”, you whispered close to Tyler’s ear. He didn’t meet your gaze but he did break into a small smile. 

“This was only meant to be a little matchmaking. How could it go so horribly wrong?” Dante finally turned his attention to yours and Hook’s close proximity. “And here I am freaking out because you’ve fucked up and you can’t even keep your hands off each other… oh… you’re messing with me, aren’t you?” 

You gave him a wide smile and nodded, making yourself more comfortable against Hook’s side. 

This time when Dante’s face dropped for the millionth time (it had practically fallen on the floor now), it was in shame, disbelief that he actually fell for your lies. It made no sense. He helped you get together and that’s how you repay him? In that moment, he finally accepted that there was no way he would ever understand the way you both functioned. 

Hook, taking advantage of the stand-still the three of you were in, slipped his arm away from your waist and intimidatingly strutted toward the Top Flight guy, coming almost nose-to-nose with him. You all knew he was joking when he fisted the top of Dante’s hoodie and said in a low grunt, “Next time you try and fuck with me or Y/N, we can take this to the ring. Understood?” 

Oh, that was hot. 

You heard the Brooklyn accent in his threat and it drove you crazy; you were melting at his feet with how flustered you were. 

“Yeah yeah I get it, man. Don’t worry”, he replied, brushing off his hand. “I’m just happy my plan worked”. 

“I’d apologise to you but you did meddle in something that you shouldn’t have”, you told him, pleased you were able to get your own back on him. 

“It was either that or wait for you both to get stupidly drunk to confess”. 

You squinted and shared a similar look with Tyler. “Actually, I would’ve preferred that”. 

Hook nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I probably would’ve been down for that”. 

“Why, though? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I won”. He raised his hands in the air and turned to walk out the door before you could say anything more. 

In the doorway, Dante thought he might try and edge another word in there and give you a smug ‘your welcome’, but when he turned toward where you two were standing he uh… decided otherwise and gave you some privacy instead. 

…

…

…

…you guys were already having a heated make out session. 

He wasn’t exactly about to interrupt that. He got people together, not watch them thrive. 

Strolling through the ins and outs of backstage, Dante felt sort of lost, like his only source of entertainment whilst waiting for a match or an interview was gone. Who would he set up now? 

Then he saw her. 

“Hey, Kris!” he called, receiving a warm smile in return. “How do you feel about a certain Orange?” 

THE END. 

#hook aew #hook x reader #aew #aew fanfiction #hook x you #hook x y/n #hook fanfiction #hook imagine #all elite wrestling #reader insert #dante martin

[j-niret]

“ let’s stay in ”

✩‧₊˚ pairing — bf!hyunjin x curvy!gf!reader warnings — fluff, mild mentions of insecurities, lots of kissing and hyunnie being needy for his bby, size kink if you blink??? is pretty suggestive but i wouldn’t say this categorizes as full-on smut tbh

✩‧₊˚ requested? yes!

debuting this acc as my skz writing blog hehe (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) i had fun doing this request! pls lmk your thoughts on this <3

“almost ready yet babe?” hyunjin’s muffled voice through the door asks for the third time in a row. your brain kicks in to panic mode knowing he’s been waiting patiently for the past half hour yet no progress has been made. you were both supposed to meet with chan, changbin, and minho for dinner reservations but you loathed every single thing in your wardrobe right now. nothing was cooperating and you felt a meltdown beginning to transpire with the piles of clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. “y-yeah just um- give me a few more minutes be out in a jiffy!” that was a total lie but at least you stalled for more time. you’ve scoured your whole closet for a nice outfit to wear tonight but today was just not your day… almost everything you tried on was seemingly inadequate, fit weirdly, or accentuated that one particular body part a little too much for the other boys to see.

you huff in frustration, sifting through the tornado of a mess you’ve created, nothing was going your way; you still had no clothes on and hyunjin will start to grow suspicious any minute now. it’s not like you even have ugly clothes either — you buy the cutest stuff that matches your pretty aesthetic. you own a million and one dresses, skirts, frilly tops that hyunjin always says makes you look like a fairy princess, you had endless options but none lived up to your standards in this moment. time was ticking and you were only digging a deeper grave from procrastinating. “y/nnn, what’s taking so lo- you aren’t even dressed yet?!” hyunjin barges through the door without even knocking first. his eyebrows lift in confusion at the sight of you still completely undressed, you attempted to shield your body with your hands but hyunjin glares at your reaction. “what’s to hide? i’ve seen you in much less, no sense in being shy with me now babe.” he teased, snaking his arms around your waist while proceeding to litter kisses all over your flustered face.

usually you’d welcome this type of action with open eager and delight but your mind was being cruel to you, inability to focus on any positive attributes at this point. you wiggled in his arms to let loose from the tight grip he had on you but this only made him question your resistance, “what’s the matter bun?” he asks sweetly, voice notching up several octaves. “nothing’s wrong hyune, why would you think that?” you’re a terrible liar, hyunjin could notice something off with you instantly. “we’ve been dating almost a year now y/n, you can’t think i’m that oblivious to when you’re upset about something… talk to me, i’m here for a reason.” he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, pulling you closer into him. your timid nature makes it harder for you in expressing the way you feel, looking down at your feet clad with a pair of cinnamoroll socks. you hesitate to speak up but it was only fair to be honest with your boyfriend, “i just don’t feel like myself today…” your voice trails, unable to choke up another sentence. “how come? what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” his hands roam your curves, delicately massaging your body. “i don’t necessarily… like the way clothing draws attention to my bum…” you admit, sulking in his arms “i get insecure about how large it is.”

hyunjin couldn’t tell if you were actually being serious or not, is this really something to feel insecure about? he thought to himself. he loves every inch, nook and cranny of you — it was a shock to him you could even think so poorly of yourself. “i’m not sure i understand where you’re coming from.. i mean look at you, you’re literally the cutest girl ever. i adore your body, and you have the nicest bum i’ve ever seen might i add!” he twirls you around to face him, eyes glimmering with twinkles in them as you looks at you. you couldn’t help but pout, although his reassurance was sincere you were still unable to get out of the funk your mind settled in. “heyy, don’t give me that look— turn that frown upside down for me doll.” his finger probes the side of your lip to curl into a faux smile. large, ring clad hands drift down further to scoop your toosh firmly in his palms. puckering his lips for a kiss as he leans down to close the space between you, you scrunch your nose while hesitating to kiss back — you still felt uneasy in your own skin, the sweet sugary taste of him was distracting you well though. you soon melted into his touch, forgetting about your problems once the kiss grew heavier, lips hastily moving together as he squeezes your rear, giving it a light tap to make you squeal in his mouth.

smirking into the kiss, he kneads the plushness of your cheeks while you sigh into him. you were on your tippy toes since his height towered over you like crazy, one of your favorite polar opposites you were most fond of. as you pulled away a huge grin was plastered on the brunette male’s face, admiring you in awe, he still can’t fathom someone as ethereal as you being fully his. “you’re perfect just the way you are babe. i’ll tell you everyday ‘til you get sick and tired of hearing it, even then i won’t stop!” he assures lovingly, “my juicy booty cutiee.” you burst out laughing at that silly little nickname, he never fails to turn your sour mood sweet again. he peppers a soft kiss to your forehead as he rubs your sides, he’ll never get enough of you, truly addicted by your existence.

the buzz of vibrating echoes in the air, interrupting the shared moment between you; hyunjin dug into the back pocket of his jeans to answer his phone. “yello?” he responds, you could faintly hear what you think was changbin on the other end asking if you two were still coming. “ahh right, about that… i think we’re gonna have to skip out on this one hyung, y/n’s not feeling too well right now and i need to take care of her.” your eyes grow wide at the excuse hyunjin came up with, it seems he’s changed his mind about the plans too. uttering a few more things before hanging up he shoves the phone back into his pocket and faces you again. “you know you didn’t have to cancel right? that was rude of you!” you felt slightly guilty but deep down you were relieved. “it’s okay really, let’s stay in and order takeout instead. i’m sure they’ll understand.” he shrugs, voice sounding like honey as he bends down for another quick kiss. “i just want all my attention on you tonight, my darling.”

#hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x female reader #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fic

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

To be or not to be.

High school Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

A/N: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Translation: “Sestra.” Sister.

Word count: 1,034.

Masterlist.

So there Wanda was, standing by her locker talking to her friends when she spots you, her girlfriend, just a few feet away talking to your own friends looking as adorably cute as ever.

Which was completely unfair if you ask Wanda, since she is supposed to mad at you and you definitely shouldn't be looking as cute as you are looking right now because the only thing it does is cause longing in her heart for you, wanting to make up so she isn’t away from you for any longer.

But being the stubborn person that she is, the brunette does the only thing she allows herself to do. Which is continuing to stare at you from afar, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she nibbles on it.

As you stand laughing and joking around with your friends. You suddenly feel like someone is looking at you, so you glance around the halls, only for your eyes to land on your girlfriend who is staring at you intently from a couple of feet away. Lip between her teeth and a look you know all too well.

Which throws you off slightly if you’re being completely honest, since you were 100% sure Wanda has been mad at you for the past 5 days. But even in your confusion, you can’t help but shoot Wanda a soft smile and then proceed talking to Bucky, Peter and Sam again.

Wanda seeing your cute smile, can’t help but feel her resolve slowly break and after debating with herself for a good few minutes on whether or not to approach you. The brunette decides to take action and goes up to you.

“Hey, can we talk?” She asks once she’s in front of you.

You nod then turn to your friends, “I’ll catch you guys later alright?” You say, then walk away with your girlfriend.

Both of the girls make their way down the hall, when suddenly Wanda stops in front of the Janitors closet. Looking both ways to make sure no one is around, she opens the door.

“So what did you want to talk about?” You ask, but suddenly you’re yanked inside the closet by the hem of your shirt. “Wha-?” You begin but are cut off by Wanda’s lips basically attacking your own.

Wanda kisses you with such an intensity that when you pull back you’re left speechless, "wow," you breathe. “Not that I'm complaining, because I’m totally not, but what was that for?” You ask with a dopey smile, causing Wanda to glare at you with no actual malice behind her eyes.

“Oh no, don’t look at me like that!” Wanda says, arms crossing on her chest as she tries to remain serious, “because even though we did just make out inside this closet, it doesn’t mean that I'm not still mad at you, because I really am,” she frowns. “But you seriously just had to wear your glasses today, didn’t you? You know how I feel about you in glasses, it makes me weak!” She pouts, “Also the whole Star Wars shirt. Could you be any more nerdy? You look so cute and adorable that it hurts! You shouldn’t be able to break my resolve! Ugh!” The brunette rambles, arms thrown up in the air in frustration.

“I-I lost my contacts and Star Wars premieres this weekend, I’m sorry?” You say weakly, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I know, I figured as much,” Wanda sighs softly. “But you make it so hard to stay mad at you baby, and it’s beyond infuriating! So now I'm going to kiss you until l either feel angry again or we just go back to our day to day lives," the brunette says as she pushes you against the wall and cups your face to kiss you once again.

Both you and Wanda stay inside the closet making out for another good 10 minutes when you pull back slightly and say, “so, what's the verdict babe?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, a small smile on her lips as she says, “I'm no longer mad.”

“Okay good. So can we go back to hanging out with our friends?” You ask and Wanda nods.

As both girls walk out of the janitors closet, hand in hand and towards their friends, you stop walking for a moment to place a soft kiss on Wanda's forehead, the short brunette sighing happily as she moves forward to hug you close, an action that causes Natasha's voice to boom down the hallway.

“Hey Stark, you owe me 10 dollars!” The redhead exclaims.

“Damn it, you lovebirds! Couldn't you have waited 2 more days?” Tony yells back, looking at both you and Wanda disapprovingly, causing you to pull apart and walk the short distance to the group.

“Wait, what?” You ask with a laugh once you’re standing in front of your friends.

“We were all betting to see how long you'd stay mad at each other. The majority of the group said 1 or 2 days, I said 5 and Tony said 7. So I win!” Natasha boasts, with a happy smirk.

“Okay, how about this! Bonus round, did Wanda cave or did Y/N actually do something to get out of the dog house? Another 10 bucks says it was Y/N,” Carol says.

“No way, it was definitely my sestra,” Pietro chimes in with a smirk.

“Nope, Y/N!” Steve exclaims.

“Nah, there’s no way, it was totally Wanda!” Clint exclaims.

“Wow, I'm glad our problems amuse you all,” Wanda deadpans with an eye roll.

“So since Tony and I were actually the closest, this is between us two and my money is on Wanda caved, what about you Tony?” Natasha says.

“Y/N, did something.” Tony says, eyes squinting with certainty.

“So what is it?” All the friends exclaim at the same time.

You wince slightly while looking at Tony and say, “sorry Tony, but Wands caved,” and all through the hall there are loud echoes of both celebration and disappointment which causes you to slightly grin.

“Nice, now pay up, playboy,” Natasha smirks, hand stretched out towards Tony.

“Damn you, red,” Tony grumbles as he hands Natasha a 20 dollar bill.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fluff #my writing #my fic #no beta #to be or not to be

[jongseongsnudes]

good girl

fwb!sunghoon. 1k words. smut with a mean dom sunghoon.

“suck.”

“sung- sunghoon-”

you look at him through teary eyes, pleading for him to stop. it’s not like you wanted him to stop, it’s more like you needed him to because this was a public place after all and anyone could catch onto your little inappropriate session with sunghoon inside the change room. 

it all started when you, sunghoon, jake and jay all went out, spending the day together at the mall after a busy week. everything was fine until jake decided he wanted to go off to look for a specific shirt, pulling you along without the two others knowing. and when sunghoon did find out, how did he react?

of course, not very nicely.

although you and sunghoon were only fucking, you’ve known him long enough to know how possessive the man really was. he hated it whenever you were alone with another man and he definitely didn’t appreciate it whenever another man looked at you for a little too long.

and unfortunately, this was everything jake did today. 

and that is how you ended up here, sitting on sunghoon’s lap in a tiny change room with your back pressed against his chest, your legs spread out, your panties completely drenched and all while facing the door sized mirror ahead. 

at first you were embarrassed seeing yourself like this but once sunghoon’s fingers found their way into your panties, you couldn’t care less. the man worked your pussy, hard and fast, continuously pumping his fingers into you, breaking you down. you looked like a damn mess, with tears spilling down your face, with saliva almost dripping from your parted lips but that wasn’t even your biggest concern. your biggest problem was all the noises you were making.

getting caught like this was just not something you needed.

“i’m not going to repeat myself,” he whispers into your ear, his voice so low and threatening. his grip on your thigh only tightens with every one of his words, leaving behind red marks that you know will turn purple by tomorrow morning. but this was exactly how sunghoon liked your skin looking... completely decorated in his markings.

you had only parted your lips slightly, ready to wrap them around his two fingers when the man shoves them into your mouth instead, clearly impatient. a smug grin on his lips tells you that he’s pleased with how you’re immediately sucking on them, just like the obedient little doll that you were to him.

“wasn’t so hard was it?” he taunts you, further pushing his fingers that were coated with your juices into your mouth, almost making you gag. “imagine if jake saw you like this, saw how obedient you are for me.”

“sunghoon please...” you’re whimpering around his fingers, your words barely coherent but you only wanted one thing now. and that was to release.

of course sunghoon being sunghoon, didn’t allow you to cum. that was your punishment. he’d roughly work you up until you’re about to finish but retract his fingers just in time and shove them into your mouth instead. the man was cruel like that, denying you a grand total of three releases in the last twenty minutes. 

“no, you don’t get to cum. teach you a thing or two about running off with jake.”

“but we- we didn’t do anything-”

“with the way he was staring at you the whole day, you two might as well have fucked in the middle of the store.”

you lay your head back onto his shoulder and groan in frustration, ready to just pleasure yourself but the man doesn’t let you off that easily. oh no. this was park sunghoon after all and no one goes against his words, especially you.

“touch yourself and see what happens. i dare you.”

gulp.

“please sunghoon... i just want to cum... please...” your weak pleas and soft sobs made you look so pathetic but to be honest, you’d look this way over and over just for park sunghoon. 

“fine. i’ll let you cum, only if you can convince me why. i’ll give you five seconds. 5-” 

“i’ll never go near jake again! i only want you sunghoon, i belong to you... only you,” you turn slightly to catch his gaze, hoping you could also persuade him with your eyes. you know sunghoon was a dominant, tough man - no doubt about that - but there was always just something about your soft gaze that got to him. like they hypnotised him.

“you’re such a good girl for me princess,” he chuckles lowly into your ear before pressing his lips onto your exposed neck, leaving behind yet another mark. “stand up. panties off.”

your weak body immediately does as told, struggling about to stand up on your feet as sunghoon hastily slides off his pants in his sitting position, letting them fall around his ankles. turning around to face him, you are met with sunghoon’s intense gaze and his hard on, now on full display, thick and proud. you could hear your insides screaming at the sight, wanting nothing more than to be fucked dumb right here inside this change room.

“come here,” the man demands of you and you take a step forward, now standing in between his spread legs. he doesn’t even spare a second before grabbing onto the back of your thighs to carry you onto his lap, immediately positioning you over his dick. the feeling of his hard on rubbing against your dripping pussy had you moaning his name, totally forgetting where you were. your hands are now wrapped desperately around his shoulders, bringing him closer so you could kiss him to prevent making more unwanted noises.

“you better be quiet while i fuck you or i’m going to punish you,” the man chuckles yet again, almost tauntingly just as he thrusts his entire length into you without any warning. you barely manage to bite back your screams, the feeling of his dick so deep inside of you is one you so desperately yearn for, one you don’t think you can live without. 

and park sunghoon knew this about you. he knew exactly how weak you were for him, how ready you were to always be his good girl.

“this pussy is mine, you’re mine.”

end.

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

#enhypen #enhypen drabble #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen reaction #enhypen smut #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon park #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon #park sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon scenario #jongseongsnudes

[foundfamilynonsense]

I’m gonna just throw this out before it happens:

Even if Sabine somehow “unlocks” the force through hard work, the Jedi were STILL RIGHT to only recruit force sensitive children.

There has only been one episode of Sabine learning to be a jedi so far. Look at how terrible of a time she’s having. She’s making zero progress, and we know she spent a long time with Ahsoka before quitting because she was making no process.

Why is she putting herself through all this grief with no reward? No idea. That’s another post.

But the point is Ahsoka isn’t even teaching Sabine what younglings were usually taught. She’s not trying to get Sabine to deflect blaster shots (bc she’d never be able to) and she’s not trying to teach Sabine how to move things with her mind (bc she’d never be able to). It’s just lightsaber lessons. Something Kanan taught Sabine already just as a Mandalorian wielding the dark saber. Sabine would be doing so much worse if she was in a normal youngling group.

Sabine has only gotten this far because she is a natural warrior. And she still already quit once. Ahsoka’s really not helping at all. She’s just telling Sabine to “feel it”

And sure! The other jedi masters did that. But they did that knowing that their students actually had a natural ability to feel the force!! Their students knew what they were trying to feel.

For someone who went through the public school system with dyslexia I honestly felt so frustrated and bad for Sabine last episode. Ahsoka and Huyang are telling her to do things she just has no ability to do. At least Huyang is being honest with her about why.

There is nothing more frustrating when you’re struggling and someone tells you to just. Do it better. Huyang and Ahsoka are not giving her any real instruction. Bc there is no instruction. There is no shortcut like there was with reading.

But unlike me and reading, Sabine does not have to be a jedi. She does not have to learn how to use the force. So why is Ahsoka putting her through this? Why is she putting herself through this?

Imagine if the Jedi order did that with little kids? Kids who may not have the option to quit like Sabine did? That would so so terrible for them. It’s already terrible for Sabine. How long did Sabine try the first time around? How terrible did it get, not making any improvement for so long, before she quit the first time? She doesn’t have to be a jedi. If you’re not force sensitive there’s no reason to force it. (Hehe, get it? Force it?)

If Ahsoka wanted a padawan she should have found someone force sensitive and trained them. Honestly this whole thing feels like a cruel joke on Sabine: someone who works hard and is naturally talented at many other things.

#star wars #star wars rant #anti ahsoka #anti ahsoka show #in defense of the jedi #pro jedi #jedi order #jedi

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Card games and heart games

Summary: After years together you find Trent lacking love and affection, countless arguments over and over again leads to you deciding to leave him thinking it will be easy…

Warnings: Cursing, Toxic relationship, Toxic Trent, Toxic Reader, sad Trent (Let me know if I missed anything)

Angst

Note: This may be a little bit darker than my other angst idk but I’m really proud of dis, please share your thoughts and feedback ❤️‍🩹

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“Why you so damn hard to talk to?” You asked him as you two just came home from a night out, which was ending exactly how you thought it would.

“Can we talk about this in the morning Y/n, please” Trent sighed and took off his shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and your eyes catches his tanned abs.

“No not this shit talk in the morning if we’re gonna talk we’re doing it now” You debated, clearly pissed off and annoyed by him.

“Save it for another day, goodnight Y/n” He simply ended, making you feel weak in the argument.

Trent went to bed and you down the stairs to sit outside by the garden.

You sit there for a while, debating with your thoughts wondering how it even got like this. It used to be easy until Trent became more cold to you and you took your distance from him. If you ever missed each other you never told it, you two would show it through sex or making one jealous by being out more or getting more handsy with a stranger in the club. And it has been going for months if you’re being honest with yourself. The point where you realised was earlier this week, when Trent was gaming.

…

Trent’s been avoiding you all day because of the arguments that keep on going, you hear him shouting at his mates that he’s been playing video games with all day. He doesn’t even realise how late it is or how loud he has been, he only tries to shout everything out.

You knock at the door and opens it slowly, you figured that he’s no longer talking to his friends and decides to pull his headset off. You sit down at his lap whilst he’s eyes are glued to the screen.

“Thinking of taking a break anytime soon?” You inquired as he moved his head when you blocked his sight.

“Hello” You went on, no answer from Trent.

“Fuck! Y/n can’t you see I’m busy” He snapped, throwing his controller against the screen and you flinched, surprised by his actions.

“Trent calm down!” You growled and got up from his lap quick and grabbed his hand to get him out of the room that he’s been in all day.

“Get off me Y/n” He spoke and you dragged him to your shared bedroom.

You both sat down at the edge of the bed, you could see his face frustrated and you took his hand which he declined.

“Trent?” You questioned.

“I need to be by myself Y/n, just go” He mumbled and you could feel your whole body sank at his words. He didn’t want to take your hand nor be with you. You’d understand if it was because of the argument but you only wanted to comfort him.

…

You left the room that night not knowing that would be the reason why you two are still fighting. You are still hurt, he rejected you and to be rejected by your lover was one of the things that hurt you the most. You’ve only experienced it now and in the beginning of your relationship, when things were going slow. But eventually you got closer and Trent became more comfortable and open with you.

You wanted nothing but to go upstairs to him and cuddle him till he couldn’t breathe but you knew that was something that you could only fantasise about. Because in the reality it is not like that, in reality it’s a warm loving relationship that turned into a cold love towards one another. You wanted to fix it, you would do anything. Anything for it to be like it once was.

It started to get cold and you decided to go back inside, unsure if you’d even want to sleep in the same bed as him.

You eventually walks up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. You can hear Trent’s heavy breathing as you lay down in the bed. His breathing is like a lullaby, almost sending you to sleep until you hear a voice spoke up.

“Have I told you lately that I love you” Trent somnolently spoke and crawled up closer to you, you could feel his warmth against your skin.

“Trent it’s late, but no I guess not.” You whispered and felt his arms around you, which was a rare touch to you nowadays.

“I love you” He says.

”I know” You respond.

“How do you know?”

“I can see it, now go back to sleep my boy” You implied, falling asleep after hearing no response from your lover next to you.

Waking up to Trent next to you always feels like a dream…or it used to feel like a dream. Now you don’t know what’s this day is going to bring. A day where you can be happy with him? A day filled with small arguments? You could expect anything really.

The Saturdays usually looks the same for you every week. Trent leaves for training early and you stay in bed for a while after waking up.

You go downstairs and fill up the kettle with water for your tea. It was sunny outside so you sat down and enjoyed the morning sun whilst Prince and Koba played in the garden. The dogs attention are immediately turned to the sound of the door opening, Trent is home.

You went inside with your finished breakfast and left it by the kitchen, Trent approached you.

“You went out with the dogs?” He asked you.

“First of all good morning” You greeted as he rolled his eyes.

“Yes I did. I made some tea, want some?”

“Nope, I just want you” He teased and you turned around to face him, smiling.

You didn’t know how he could give you so much pleasure and cause you so much pain at the same time. Loving him makes you so confused sometimes, he has good sides and bad sides and you know both of them.

“Hmm, then I have nothing to give you” You shrugged and walked to close the door to the garden. Trent stood still, training kit still on and you figured that he was going to shower.

-

You wanted to step outside of the house today so you got ready to go out for shopping alone. It was nice to get some alone time but you feel like that just adds on to that you’ve been alone lately. Because of Trent’s actions and words you’ve taken your distance and he could see that. He could notice when you’re around him that you prefer not to be. If he joins you when you’re in the sofa watching tv, you get up and leave after a few minutes. It did hurt him, but you couldn’t be around him when there’s been a big fight. Just to look into his eyes would disturb you. And when you find his eyes, something dies each time. It could be a certain memory or your love to him. Too keep falling in and out of love with him was something you never thought you’d do.

But it’s Trent. Trent could always make you fall in love with him over and over again. You hated that his love was so powerful and pure that he could win you over so easily. You sure loved it too but it was like you couldn’t pull yourself out of it.

You came home around 3pm and went upstairs to drop off the bags in your closet. You took off your makeup as well and changed into your silk pyjamas. It didn’t took long until you heard Trent shout your name from downstairs.

“Yes?” You shout back and stopped what you were doing to hear him properly.

“Can you come down for a second” He shouted as you got out from the closet, down to the living room where he sat.

“Come here” He indicated and you sat down beside him, not too close to him as you usually are.

“I want to apologise for last night” He began and fidgeted with his hands.

“It’s fine” You simply answered and shrugged your shoulders, he read your response and perceived it that you were still angry.

“Are you still angry?” He pushed as you rubbed your eyes, showing that you were tired and didn’t want to fight.

“I said it’s fine Trent” You declared.

“I can read you” He murmured.

“No you can’t fucking read me.” You snapped and met his brown eyes.

“I don’t want to fight, please Y/n” Trent sighed.

“Same here” You wearily responded and Trent moved closer to you. The both of you didn’t say anything to each other, you rested you head on his shoulder and sighed because of the situation.

“It feels like I’ve forgotten to be your lover” Trent revealed and drawn small circles on your thigh with his gentle fingers. You hummed in response, taking in what he just said.

The fact that he admitted that he had not shown you his love lately made you sad. And eventually you felt more alone on his shoulder, one small tear escaping from the corner of your eye.

”You have never look at me the way you looked at that girl last night” You cried.

“Y/n”

“I just stood there watching, do you know how much it hurt Trent” You mumbled.

“I never meant to hurt you baby” Trent said.

“Stop saying that, it makes you sound like an asshole” You scoffed and got up from the sofa with Trent slowly trailing after you.

“You can’t say that when you were doing the exact same thing” Trent defended but you didn’t buy it. You would never get intimate with somebody else in the club but Trent. But when he does it, it’s okay.

“Trent you’ve done it multiple times over the years whilst I’ve done it maybe twice” You debated and now you both were in your shared bedroom.

“It won’t happen again Y/n for fuck’s sake I’ve apologised and said sorry” He fumed and you didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. Your head was in your hands as you sat down on the bed, trying to come to your senses.

-

You were preparing to go to bed, tired and exhausted from fighting with Trent for hours. Your eyes were red from all the crying, all you wanted was to sleep and wake up in the morning hoping that everything will be as it was before the cracks. You understand that isn’t possible and probably will never be.

You lay down in the bed as far away as you can get from Trent. You both couldn’t stand the sight of each other, you even felt that you can’t sleep in the same bed as him. Something just doesn’t feel right.

When Trent’s fallen asleep you get up quickly from the bed and sneak out of the room, hoping that he wouldn’t hear you. But of course he did.

“The fuck, where are you going” Trent wondered as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stay here anymore Trent.” You prompted and Trent’s eyes widened.

“You’re being cruel Y/n” He said with his head faced down.

You thought that he isn’t worth all the tears you’ve been crying and that now after all these years he’s only out to break your heart.

You were taking on your jacket, crying at the same time as Trent stood there watching you. He couldn’t force himself to do anything, he couldn’t process that you were actually leaving him. He knew you couldn’t do it but he also knew that if it would happen at some point, you’ll come running back to him despite his doings.

“You know you’ll need me Y/n” Trent stated as you opened the front door.

“That’s bullshit” You answered and sniffed, walked out to your car.

“You’re saying our love is bullshit now?” Trent exclaimed and his voice cracked.

“Yes I am” You replied and stood by your car waiting for the fight to come to an end, it felt like it would go on forever until Trent’s dark words from his dark mind left his mouth.

“Go fuck yourself” He scoffed and cried.

“Fuck you!” You mocked and Trent turned around to get back inside.

You realised that you haven’t even packed your things which meant that you needed to get back in, the chaos was going to start again. You thought it was better with that than Trent inviting you to sit there silently in his sofa with nothing to say.

You walked back to the front door and opened it slowly, took your shoes off and then sneaked upstairs to get to the bedroom. Trent wasn’t there so you could take your time and collect all of the stuff you needed.

You could now hear Trent downstairs crying and groaning, it made your heart shatter even though it was you who caused it. You couldn’t stop the guilt that was going through your head, ending up with you going downstairs to him.

He must’ve not noticed when you walked back in and was surprised that you were still there.

“Is this about tonight?” You asked him as you sat down and watched him cry.

“What do you think” He whispered.

“You’re too needy Trent.”

“I thought we were done fighting” Trent said as he laid down in the sofa, drying his tears.

“This isn’t a fight Trent, don’t be so sensitive” You mumbled.

“I’ve been trying so hard, you know” Trent revealed and sighed.

“I know baby” You sniffled and moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You missed the feeling of loving him so much that you couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like if you suddenly one day stopped loving him. Laying on top of him hearing his breathing, comforted you.

“Please Y/n stay with me, you know I can’t cope without you” Trent said and pecked your head.

”The way it is now I can’t promise anything, I just don’t want you to take me for granted”

“I don’t” He cut you off.

“Yes but you have been lately” You continued as Trent leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry my Y/n, I love you” Trent spoke between kisses.

The kiss was passionate and it was emotional as well. After everything, every little fight, every flaw, there’s always that spark that comes and goes that makes it impossible to leave him. No matter how much you want or try to leave him, go and live another life without him, you’ll always end up in his arms…

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent x reader #liverpool fc #footballer x reader #england x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent imagine #football imagine #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold fic #trentalexanderarnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander imagines

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 10k

warnings : drinking, drunken state

taglist : @demigoddess-of-ghosts ; @oblivious-idiot ; @neewtmas ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @bella-rose29 ; @maraschinomerry ; @novelizt ; @fudosl ; @archiveoftara ; @cassiopeiia24 (i think i didn't forget anyone but i could be wrong)

content : I couldn’t resist some callbacks to the attic scene before fittes’ party, George wears a bowtie for all the fans of ali in a bowtie out there know that it was my frame of reference, I tried to not make it look like a direct copy of the fittes party but there are a lot of similarities

note : life got so out of hand, I sincerely apologize that it took so long but to make up for it it’s quite long and I really really like this part it’s THE part I’ve fantasized about since I started writing and I really like how the main scenes came out

Also sorry I know it’s been a long time but pt8 picks up right after the last scene of pt7

She realized what she just said as she walked past him entering the kitchen. She turned around suddenly, bumping into him as he followed her inside.

“I’m so sorry Lockwood I’m being so rude.”

“Well, you’re not wrong but you could tell me this without stepping on my toes.”

She looked down and fair enough she was. She took a few steps back, apologizing again and she bumped into the cupboards behind her.

“Ow!”

“Am I gonna have to stitch you up again?” Lockwood asked, amused.

“I’m so sorry.” She said again sitting down in the chair closest to her.

“You keep saying that.”

“Well, I am. I’m sorry I talked to you that way in front of Lucy, and I’m sorry I talked to you like that in the hall, and I’m sorry I came into your life yelling at you and making you angry-”

“I’m not angry.” He interrupted. “Just… frustrated.” They stayed in silence for a while staring at each other.

“I can’t figure you out.” He admitted in a lower voice.

She could have told him the same thing.

“You hate me, then you warm up to me, then you give me the cold shoulder and hate me again… what am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t hate you. I just… I can’t figure you out either. I never know what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I hired you because I think you’re good, I hate fighting, I genuinely want to help you with this whole thing, and I think it’s pretty nice when we get along. Is that clear enough?”

Not quite, she thought. What were they supposed to be? Did he consider them actual friends now or were they far from it? Did he mean it when he said that he had always been honest with her? His charming act did look awfully familiar every time he used it with clients. She didn’t know what she was supposed to think. All the questions that clouded her mind when she thought about him came rushing in.

“We’re strictly colleagues then? Or am I allowed to say that we’re friends.” She managed.

“I think friends is more fitting. I mean what kind of employer would I be sleeping in the same couch as my underling?”

She blushed furiously at the memory of his arms around her.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Did I go too far that night? I never meant to-”

“Lockwood it’s alright. It was sweet really… I didn’t expect you to watch over me like that.”

They both looked anywhere else but each other, embarrassed at the thought of that night. She didn’t regret it, quite the contrary. She still thought about it fondly.

“It was nice… I felt safe.” She added in a tone barely above a whisper.

“I know you’d do the same for me…”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked, his frown deepening as he looked into her eyes, almost begging.

“I… I just don’t see what I did to make you so sure of it. Was it the insults or the yelling?”

He laughed.

“You saved my life twice. I didn’t think I’d have to remind you that, I rather thought you’d gloat and annoy me with it every single day.”

“You’re right I should.”

They exchanged another look, warmer and more knowing.

She got up to prepare some tea. She made his cup the way he liked it and handed to him. He smiled at her with the familiarity she liked so much. She turned around before he could notice the blush on her cheeks. She then prepared two more cups, George’s with slightly more sugar than hers and placed them on an unused corner of the Thinking Cloth. She called on George and handed him his tea. When she looked up at Lockwood his smile wasn’t as wide. The three of them settled around the table.

“Alright, let’s plan a heist.”

--

“Why can’t we just push it back one week? It’d give us the extra time we need to prepare.”

“The event for the launch of their new rapier line will be more crowded and it lasts an entire day. Showing up there will never be enough to keep us out of suspicion. It has to be the fundraiser tomorrow.”

Lockwood hadn’t looked up from the plans of the building. They were trying to figure out the safest route for Lucy and Norrie to reach the documents they needed while staying as far from the party as possible and they were running out of time. Lockwood had had a hard time getting them in the fundraiser. For starter he had tried reaching out to different contacts to get in. The only result he got was a newfound rage against the Organization for not inviting them in the first place. She could have guessed a million things that could have motivated Lockwood to get them into this party at all costs. She didn’t think Bunchurch would be the one. Apparently the less than prestigious agency had some agents attending the event. In fact, all agencies had some representatives attending, or almost all of them. Something about showing the growing bonds between agencies and the Silverpoint Organization. Lockwood’s renewed determination led him to go all the way down to their headquarters to demand an invite using a mix of his usual charms and some threats of bad press. He had been convincing enough to get the three of them in. He had just put the envelopes down on the Thinking Cloth with a triumphant smile when someone knocked on the door. George led Lucy in the kitchen and they all smiled widely when she told them she and Norrie would join them. All the pieces were finally coming together. Then they studied the plans of the house and realized that it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

First of all because it was a mansion and not a house. The surface was significantly larger and the number of rooms they had to cover seemed impossible to search in just a few hours. Second of all because it was a city mansion, just north of Hyde Park, with other buildings right next to it, no garden and the front door accessible from the street. No other point of entry and neighbours on both sides. It had been fairly easy to determine which rooms to search first, compared to figuring out how the girls were supposed to get inside and out while remaining unseen.

“Wait what’s this?” Norrie asked picking up some of the research y/n had done on the party. She had spent so much time looking at those papers she couldn’t bear to look at them again.

“It’s details about the party, the agencies and companies that will be represented, the staff I managed to get information about, that kind of thing.”

“Well, if we know which catering company they’ll be hiring why don’t we use that?”

“How?”

“I don’t know… Maybe get hired, be a waitress during the event and use that to slip out?”

They all stared at her, in disbelief that they didn’t make the connection sooner.

“That’s a good idea but I’m not sure we’ll have enough time to get hired.” Lucy raised a good point.

“They’re always looking for extra people at the last minute for this kind of event. They get to hire desperate people who need a job so they can pay them less. It could be worth a try.”

“Norrie, that’s brilliant.” Lockwood exclaimed, his enthusiasm renewed. “Okay, you and Lucy will get in by waitressing at the event.” He got up and started pacing around the room. “You discreetly slip out and search the rooms in that order. I’ll need you to find a folder to put the documents in. Next, one of you go up on the second floor in that room.” He pointed at what seemed to be a bedroom drawn on the top left corner of the map. “You’ll let the folder fall from that window into the alley next to the mansion. When it’s done, give us a discreet sign. One of us will fake going out to take some fresh air and retrieve the documents.”

Relief filled the room as Lockwood finished explaining the last details of his plan. He was so sure of himself, so confident and convinced that they would succeed that it was hard to be pessimistic. He made it sound so easy.

“Lucy, Norrie, you should go and see if you can get hired today. George, now that we have a plan, I’m ordering you to find something decent to wear to the event.”

George sighed, clearly not happy about having to leave his research and take on an activity he had no interest in.

“Do you have something to wear, y/n?”

“I’ll probably figure something out.” She answered, rubbing her eyes. The long days of research, planning and cases had drained all energy from her, and like George she wasn’t too eager to spend time on her feet looking for something to wear at a party she wasn’t going to have fun at. Her bed sounded more appealing than anything else.

“Am I going to have to lead you both out with the point of my rapier in your back to get you moving?”

“Are you threatening us so we go shopping?”

“Well, locking you out of the house isn’t an option because of a certain someone,” Lockwood said as his stare lingered on her a few seconds more than she thought necessary, “so I have to resort to extreme measures.” He concluded with a wink.

They looked at him in disbelief. Since when did he care so much about what they were wearing?

“We need to be camera ready, this could be Lockwood and Co.’s first very public night we need to look our best!”

She was so exhausted she hadn’t realized they now had to endure fame-struck Lockwood craving the attention of the public. He was not going to let this go. She reluctantly stood up, mouthing “fine” at him with a thin smile. She dragged George out of the kitchen before he could protest and start an argument he would lose anyway. When public image was at stake, Lockwood always had the last word.

They got home three hours later, arms tired from carrying heavy bags. George’s suit weighed a ton, so did her shoes. She thought then that the platforms might have been overkill. Especially since she still didn’t know what she was going to wear. Finding something appropriate had taken longer than expected. Not for George, who bought the first cheapest suit he could find to get this over with. He complained louder each time she tried on a dress she didn’t buy. She was as frustrated as he was, really. The weather was getting colder and for some reason all she could find were backless or sleeveless dresses in which she was already too cold just by trying them on. Between George’s complaints and her feet growing tired y/n thought about giving up more than once. They started to walk back, discussing the plan for their very busy evening the following night when George interrupted himself.

“Look!”

“What? What is it?”

“In the window across the street. That could fit you for tomorrow night, right?”

She looked across to see a long-sleeved black jumpsuit on the mannequin in the shop in front of them. It was simple but very elegant, with a square neckline, a tight body giving the illusion of a corset, and wider pants long enough to touch the floor. The platforms would come in handy here. Since it was George’s idea, she told him he wasn’t allowed to complain if it didn’t fit. She went inside and came back out fifteen minutes later with another heavy bag to carry home.

---

She couldn’t help the tremor in her hand while she applied mascara on her eyelashes. As the hours went on, y/n could feel the knot in her stomach tighten. The idea of spending the night at such a sophisticated event made her nervous. She was incredibly intimidated, especially considering the type of crowd she would have to face. Being surrounded by rich and elegant people was not something she was used to, and tonight she would have to talk to them to make sure they saw her there. It added a stinging salt to her already oozing wound. She fixed her hair for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes, checking her reflection under every angle. She jumped and dropped her hairbrush when someone knocked on the door to the attic.

“y/n, are you alright?”

She recognized Lockwood’s voice and told him to come in. She bent down to retrieve her hairbrush and when she looked back up she saw him standing next to the mirror, wide-eyed and silent.

“Do I look this bad?”

“You… No! No, no on the contrary you look…” He blushed as he looked into her eyes.

“You look great.” He said shyly.

She didn’t think she had ever seen him so flustered. Had she not been so nervous, she might have read into his reaction. But her nerves were so unsettled that she simply smiled back at him before putting on her lipstick. She had picked a dark red to complete her elegant look for the night. She focused on the reflection of her lips. When she looked back up Lockwood was gone. She wondered if she had imagined his eyes following her every movement in the mirror. He was acting strange, but it was a very stressful night. She couldn’t even stop her hands from shaking. It was surprising coming from him, but they had never been in that situation before. Confused, she went to sit on her bed to put on her shoes. Another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

Lockwood was back, the same bewildered expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen you with lipstick.”

“Well, it’s not really my priority when going out to fight visitors all night.” She joked.

He kept staring insistently at her.

“What is it? Did I get some on my teeth?” She stood back up to look in the mirror again. Everything had to be perfect. She inspected every inch of her face, every tooth, every hair. Movement behind her made her look up to see Lockwood stepping closer in the reflection, reaching for something in his pocket.

“Here, I thought it would make you look even more elegant than you already are.”

He took out a red velvet pouch and revealed a pearl necklace.

“Lockwood… that’s… very thoughtful. Thank you.” She hoped the warm lights of her bedroom were enough to hide the red that had spread across her cheeks. He detached the clasp and went to stand behind her. She looked back into the mirror as he placed the necklace around her neck. She pushed her hair away, her hand softly brushing against his for a second. His gaze remained fixed on her reflection, the dark brown of his irises looking even warmer in the soft dim light. He looked back at her neck.

“They belonged to my mother.” He said as he fastened the clasp.

She looked at him in the mirror with surprise. He was smiling. A soft, delicate smile. He had rendered her speechless. For the briefest moment, the party didn’t matter, the past few months and everything that had led her there tonight weren’t as important. She was here, now, with him and everything was okay.

She blinked and turned around.

“Lockwood I can’t-”

“It’s nothing, really. Plus, you’ll fit right in tonight looking like this.” He winked, his smile back to its usual wolfish grin. “I’ll go get us a cab, George should be about ready too.”

Before she could protest, he was down the stairs, asking George if was ready, leaving her standing there, a hand resting on the necklace. She looked back at her reflection. The pearls did make her look rich and sophisticated, she admitted to herself. Lockwood had never talked to her about his family. She was incredibly flattered by this gift, and most importantly by the fact that he had opened up, even just a little. The softness of his eyes kept flashing back in her mind. She breathed in deeply, more assured than she was. He had quite an effect on her, she thought. The brush of his skin on hers, his soft breathing in her neck… If only he had stood closer, even just for an instant. She stopped her mind from going any further. The butterflies in her stomach were back and her heart was ready to jump out of her chest, but it’d have to wait. They had a party to attend and some documents to steal.

She came down the stairs to join Lockwood and George, ready to leave. George was adjusting his bowtie in the mirror in the living room. She was surprised to see him look quite dashing.

“George, promise me you’ll make an effort to socialize and be as visible as you can tonight.”

“Easy for you to say, it’ll be second nature for you to be at the center of attention!”

Lockwood laughed as he headed for the door and stopped in his tracks when she entered the room.

“Especially if I have the most gorgeous girl at the party on my arm.” He said after a pause.

She blushed furiously at the remark. He had never complimented her so much, or been so kind to her before. She tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but really she was close to falling on her knees. It was like he loved tormenting her.

They stayed staring at each other in silence, their smiles getting wider every second.

“I think I liked it better when you were fighting.” Said George in an exasperated tone.

Lockwood ignored him as he crossed the room to offer her his arm.

“Shall we?”

---

The ride over to the fundraiser was a silent one, though the three of them were agitated. George kept adjusting his bowtie and cleaning his glasses, y/n checked her lipstick in her pocket mirror every five minutes. Lockwood kept fidgeting, but it wasn’t really unusual for him. While they kept glancing anxiously at the road, he alternatively looked through each window like a toddler wondering if they were there yet. y/n did not share his excitement. She gripped the pearls around her neck and took a deep breath. Lockwood nudged his knee against hers to get her attention.

“It’s gonna go just fine.” He said in a low voice.

She smiled but it was rigid, almost fake. Panic was slowly strengthening its grip on her. What was she supposed to talk about with these people all night? She didn’t have Lockwood’s natural talent and ease when it came to socializing. She was terrified of saying something wrong and making a fool of herself. He rested a hand on her knee, bringing her out of her overwhelming thoughts.

“You’ll be great.”

She reached for his hand as she whispered a low ‘thank you’.

Despite his best efforts to reassure her, the crowd on the sidewalk and the animation coming from the mansion brought back her insecurities. Everyone looked so elegant and influential that she instantly felt out of place.

The look on George’s face reassured her a little bit. She wasn’t the only one desperate to go home. They got out of the cab and mingled in the crowd waiting to check their coats. y/n took a first look at the faces she would have to talk to during the night, trying to recognize anyone that would be easier to talk to. None of them looked like she could have seen them around at Fittes, or clients she could have worked with. She did notice the catering van parked in front of an alleyway next to the house, the waiters and waitresses all gathered next to it. She saw Lucy and Norrie with them, acting professional. Before she could try to get their attention and ask them if they were okay, Lockwood grabbed her arm and led her inside.

The elegance of the hall did not prepare her for the spectacular room in which the event took place. An imposing marble staircase was lit with candles, so many she couldn’t count them all, yet it was only half as much as the ones lighting up the crystal chandelier illuminating the room and taking up half the ceiling. If the Silverpoint Organization was a non-profit, they showed none of it during their receptions. The room was full of eloquent people, as she expected, most of them middle aged. Most men wore a lavender pin on their lapel, but some of them had a silver brooch in the shape of a harp instead. Women wore them too. She didn’t know what it stood for and felt foolish, dreading the interactions to come even more now. Every now and then she saw agents in the crowd. Fittes, Rotwell, Tendy’s, Bunchurch too. Unsure what to do, George and y/n looked expectantly at Lockwood.

“Why don’t you two mingle, I’ll go get us some drinks.” He said cheerfully before leaving them to fend for themselves.

They didn’t have time to protest, he was already lost in the crowd. George turned to her, suggesting that they should make a break for it while they still could. As much as she wished they could leave, she couldn’t bail on their plan now.

“I’ll make hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and those mini marshmallows you love so much!” He insisted with a pleading look.

“As much as I want to, we can’t.”

Before he could add anything that was likely to change her mind, the ringing of glasses rose through the air and soon the room fell silent. At the top of the grand staircase stood a man, stoic while he waited for the last conversations to die out.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” y/n was taken aback by the authority in his voice. She mustn’t have been the only one. The first few guests at the end of the staircase had stood straighter at the words.

“I am Theodor Mullet, chairman of Mullet and Sons and your host for the night,” he continued, “I hope you are all enjoying your evening so far. The music will continue in a moment but first I wanted to thank you all for attending and for your generous donations. As you know, the Silverpoint Organization has been helping our brave agents in the small way it can for over 20 years now.” He went on to describe the actions the Organization had taken over the years, reassuring the attendees that their money would be put to good use. Even though she knew for a fact that the donations in question would be spent on the black market, a part of her couldn’t help but believe he was telling the truth. The way he stood, tall and broad with his dark hair greying on the temples and his black glasses framing his gaze made him look straightforward. He didn’t have the appearance of a lying politician like she expected, instead he looked very matter-of-fact, what you would expect of a businessman at the head of one of the largest companies in the country. As she analyzed his every feature, she noticed that he too wore a silver brooch in the shape of a harp on the lapel of his vest. She wondered what kind of association he shared with the guests she had seen with the same accessory in the crowd.

“It was all the more important to me that all agencies attend this event, as both the Silverpoint Organization and Mullet&Sons want to further our relationship with them and support them all in keeping the nation safe. The courage of those young people is truly worth all our admiration, which is why I invite you all to raise a glass to the bravery of the agents present here with us tonight. May all agencies, big or small, defeat the Problem.” He raised his glass to the audience, and all guests followed suit. Many people were now staring at her and George with a mix of respect and pity.

“I could really use a drink… Where is Lockwood?” She said, turning towards George to avoid looking at the rest of the crowd.

“I don’t know… I think I’ll go try the buffet.”

y/n was too nervous to eat anything, especially with all this unwanted attention directed towards her. It didn’t seem to matter to George who was already gone before she could tell him that. She went her separate way to look for Lockwood in the crowd. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she found him charming some prestigious guests with dazzling stories about one of their cases. He was made for this after all and he had a knack for embellishing random anecdotes, turning them into thrilling quests. She tried to break through the crowd as respectfully as she could, overhearing small talk about what a fantastic man Theodor Mullet was or vivid debates about what the Organization’s next actions should be. She grew desperate the longer she looked. Without Lockwood, she didn’t think she could manage talking about those topics for an entire evening.

Relief flooded her when she spotted him next to the bar, glasses in hand. She got closer and stopped a few feet away, frozen. Her already dreadful evening turned even worse. She watched as El gently but confidently stroked his arm, throwing their head back in an exaggerated laughter that rose above the commotion. They did always have a flare for the dramatic. Lockwood smiled politely, but she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely enjoying talking to them. She dismissed the idea immediately. El was too proud, too flashy and overall, too much and Lockwood couldn’t enjoy the company of someone like this. Or could he? He looked around the room but didn’t notice the small sign she gave him, discreetly asking if he needed help. Before she could try something else, he was drawn back into the conversation, El clinging to his arm more every passing second. The knot in her stomach tightened.

She looked over at the buffet where George was having a better time than she was, enjoying the canapes that Lucy and Norrie or some of their colleagues for the night had brought out. She tried to spot the girls to make sure everything was fine but she couldn’t find them among the waiters. When she looked back over at Lockwood, El had placed a hand on his chest, now stroking his tie. She reached them in two strides, not minding the people previously in her way.

“There you are!” She pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Thank you for getting me a drink!” She said as she reached for the second glass he had in hand, interlocking her arm with his.

She looked up to see the confused look on his face. She ignored it and stared at El with feigned surprise.

“Oh… long time no see.”

El was staring back with barely hidden disgust.

“So you two are-”

“I heard you didn’t make it into Kipps’ team…” She didn’t let them finish. “That’s too bad.”

Their eyes darkened at that mention.

“I’ve moved on to better things.”

y/n huffed as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been working closely with Mrs. Dufour actually.” They said with a proud smirk. “It pays really well. And I get to meet a lot of influential people… Very influential. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”

She was barely surprised at that revelation.

“I see your loyalty hasn’t changed. At least it looks like your nose just about recovered, that’s a relief.” She forced a smile. Lockwood was staring at her with confusion, not saying a word.

She started to turn away, dragging Lockwood by the hand with her, when they forcefully grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry your late-night encounter with Rasler didn’t manage to drive you out of town. Maybe next time I’ll finish the job myself.”

Lockwood untangled his arm and came to stand between them. His features were sharper than usual, his jaw clenched in anger. Even when they had particularly bad fights, he never looked so stern.

“Oh you have your prince charming coming to your rescue now! How adorable.”

They both were about to protest when El continued.

“Please don’t make a scene, this a class A event after all.” They looked back at her. “Not that you should get used to that, y/n.”

El then turned away and headed for the bar.

“Are you okay?” Lockwood asked her, worried.

“I should be the one to ask you that. How long were you stuck talking to them?”

He instinctively offered her his arm as they walked away from the scene.

“They ambushed me right after the speech. You have some very questionable acquaintances.”

“Well, I did punch them in the face, it made the inconvenience more palatable.”

She was about to take a sip of her champagne when Lockwood stopped abruptly, making her almost spill her drink. He looked at his reflection in one of the mirrors adorning the room before turning towards her.

“y/n, have I been walking around with your lipstick on my cheek for the past ten minutes?”

She laughed, louder than she had meant, only now paying attention to the very defined dark red shape of her lips on his pale skin.

“That’s not funny I look ridiculous!”

“It’s a little bit funny.” She said gasping for air. “Admit it!”

He smiled, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

“It’ll come off easily I swear!” She said, dragging him out of the ballroom to look for a bathroom.

He kept his hand on his cheek, trying to hide the source of his shame. y/n had stopped laughing, the realization of what she had done only hitting her now. It was her turn to blush. She wasn’t thinking, she acted on instinct. But why did her instinct have to make her do this in particular?

They reached a corridor lit with golden sconces on the wall. The light was softer here, giving the space a more intimate atmosphere.

“Was the kiss really necessary?” Lockwood asked in a lower voice now that they were further from the crowd.

She forced her embarrassment down and used all the courage she could muster to look in his eyes. His smirk betrayed the seriousness of his tone. He was messing with her.

“Next time I’ll let you fend for yourself.” She answered.

“Do you have many more nemeses I should be on the lookout for?”

“No, I don’t. Unless Dufour decides to go for someone half her age.” She joked.

“I should be safe from this kind of situation then.”

She looked through every door, looking for any room that would have a sink or a vanity, anything to help save his case.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you.” She said absentmindedly, opening yet another door. “You’re young, attractive, you own your company… How come in a place as big as this one none of these doors are bathrooms?”

“You think I’m-”

“Ah! There we are, finally!” She led him into the powder room. She looked for a tissue or anything that would help him get the lipstick stain off. The room matched the elegance of the mansion, fancy soaps and cloth towels displayed next to the sink for the comfort of the guests. She ran a hand towel under the faucet, added some soap and handed it to Lockwood. He stared at her for a few seconds, before reaching for it. He rubbed the cloth on his face, staining it red. Somehow, he made the mark bigger, spreading it across his whole cheek. She laughed as he helplessly looked up at her in the mirror.

“This is all your fault, need I remind you.”

He tried to look upset, but soon he laughed with her at the scene, mocking his own reflection.

“I look like a clown.”

She took the cloth out of his hand and told him to crouch a little so she could take care of it. He leaned slightly against the sink, enough to meet her at eye level. She gently lifted and turned his chin to clean the rest of her lipstick off. He looked at her softly while she worked. She tried to ignore him or the way the soft bathroom light made his eyes sparkle. His eyelashes looked longer somehow. Maybe it was because she was seeing them from so close.

“There.” She said softly. “It’s gone.”

She looked back into his eyes. He was already staring. He smiled softly but didn’t say anything.

“You could thank me, you know?”

“For cleaning up your mess? Do you want a medal too?” He smiled wider. She laughed.

“You jerk!” She threw the towel at him, without doing much damage as it was thrown from so close. “I could also make it worse.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said defiantly.

She held his stare, becoming increasingly aware of their proximity. Heat creeped up her cheeks, but she didn’t want to move. Instead, she leaned into it, inching ever so slightly closer to him. She rested her hand on the edge of the sink, her fingers meeting the warmth of the back of his hand instead. He opened his palm and wrapped his fingers around hers. He subtly parted his lips, making her look at them then back into his eyes. He did the same. His other hand came to rest on her waist. His touch was delicate and soft, yet it was enough to send shivers down her back. It reached the small of her back, bringing her slowly closer to him, his eyes still focused on hers.

The door suddenly opened, making them both jump up in surprise.

“This isn’t the bathroom!” He man said loudly in the hallway before shutting the door.

She instinctively checked her hair in the mirror. Lockwood stood straighter, clearing his throat. She looked back at him with a thin smile, hoping the dim light hid her crimson cheeks.

“Thank you… for your help.”

“Oh you’re welcome!” She stammered. “You’re very welcome.”

They stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

“y/n… Do you…”

“I- uh we should go.”

She exited the room, flushed and a little disoriented. Lockwood called after her, asking her to wait. She wanted to turn back, desperately so, but a voice inside her head kept her from it. They were colleagues, she reminded herself. The voice of reason that had snuck into her head the morning after they fell asleep on the couch came screaming back, listing everything that was questionable about her behaviour. She never would have dared anything like this when she was at Fittes’. Lockwood’s recklessness was rubbing off on her and her conscience wasn’t having any of it. Her crush was inappropriate and now was certainly not the time to get lost in it. She headed back towards the ballroom to make sure enough guests witnessed her presence, but Lockwood caught up with her, reaching for her hand.

“y/n wait, please. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”

She looked back at him, her face still flushed from the moment they had shared.

“No, it’s me. I let my feelings get the best of me. We should really head back before someone notices we’re missing.” She said as she tried to regain composure.

“Your… feelings?” He asked, intrigued. He tried to act casual, but a grin had already formed at the corner of his mouth.

She didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed but here she was. She looked at him with wide eyes, realizing what had slipped out of her mouth and hurried back to the reception, hoping that the night wouldn’t get any worse. She heard Lockwood run after her and she instinctively hid among the guests in response. She grabbed a glass of champagne being served by one of the waiters and swallowed it down in full gulps. If anything else didn’t go as expected, at least she would find it funny. She spotted George still standing next to the buffet. He was joined by Lockwood a few minutes later, who still scanned the crowd, she guessed he was looking for her. She turned her back to him to avoid his eyes and knocked into someone. She apologized profusely, silently cursing this night and everything that had led her there in the first place.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

She looked up to see her old team leader standing there, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a tuxedo that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his grey uniform.

“Kipps! Hi!” She answered.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”

“Me neither if I’m honest. You’re here to represent Fittes I’m guessing?”

“Officially yes.” He said, but his voice had an edge.

“Officially?”

“I’m actually glad to see you again. I could use your insight on something.” He added in a growingly ominous tone.

“Kipps, what’s going on?” She asked impatiently.

“Yeah Kipps, what’s going on?” said a voice behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lockwood was looking down at him with the smug look he always had when he fed into that ridiculous rivalry of theirs.

“Not now Tony, I need y/n’s advice on something.”

“Oh really? And what would that be, Kipps? Put your team members in unfathomable danger again? How many children have you traumatized this time?”

“Lockwood, please. This is important.” She had no idea what Kipps wanted her advice on, but she wasn’t ready to face Lockwood yet. She wouldn’t be for a while. She looked up at him to silently tell him to go. He looked back at her and his smile vanished. She didn’t think this would hurt him, but however ridiculous his fight with Kipps was, his pride was taking a hit having to walk away. It didn’t help that Kipps added insult to injury with snobbish remarks, not caring how childish it made him look.

She started to walk towards an empty corner of the room, grabbing another glass on her way. Kipps followed closely.

“What is this all about Kipps?”

“I’m not just here to represent Fittes.” He paused significantly, as if he enjoyed building some kind of suspense around his intentions. “I’m trying to collect more information on Dufour.”

She stayed quiet for a minute as she tried to process what all it implied. On the one hand, they had a potential new ally in this mess. On the other hand, Kipps could make their whole plan fail and this would not end well. She took another sip to calm her nerves and frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“y/n, you never needed to tell me what happened for me to understand that she fired you because you got in the way.”

A new wave of panic washed over her. She hadn’t told him the whole story, she reminded herself. And she hadn’t seen him since that awful article had been published to humiliate her. There was no way he could have come to the same conclusions.

“I mean, you noticed a lot earlier than me how strange she was acting. After that article came out, I kept an eye on her when I could. There was more and more chatter among supervisors about her. Many clients had started complaining and it was reaching higher level executives. It was pretty obvious where all of this was heading.” He said in a sly tone. She finished her glass. Maybe he had.  

“She’s getting fired and tries to find a job with the Organization!” He concluded, congratulating his deduction skills. At least he wasn’t onto them. She was about to ask what kind of advice he expected her to give him when he started monologuing again. He visibly hadn’t told anyone about this and was getting too enthusiastic finally sharing his theories.

“I’ve already talked to a few guests about this, subtly mind you. I try to stay discreet on this whole thing. I managed to talk to one of the members of the Organization and left him with plenty to think about.” He said with a grin.

“What do you… I mean, what kind of advice are you looking for exactly?”

“Well let’s just say that the few anecdotes I shared tonight might jeopardize some of Dufour’s opportunities.” He winked at her. “I didn’t really need your advice, I just wanted to tell you that what she did is unforgivable, and she had no right to take you off my team. I’m just making sure she pays her dues.”

Apparently in Dufour’s case karma had a name and it was Quill F. Kipps. She smiled and the alcohol made her laugh much more than anticipated. She held onto him as she threw her head back in a fit of laughter, tears starting to prickle the corner of her eyes.

“That’s really sweet of you Kipps, thank you.” She said when her breathing evened out.

“I was proud to have you on my team y/n.” He said, raising his glass. She grabbed another one on a tray a waiter was passing around to clink a glass with his.

“You know,” She said, taking another sip, “I was always so intimidated by you. I was constantly trying to impress you.”

“Well, you did.”

Even though they hadn’t worked together in months, his recognition still made her feel queasy. Or maybe she was drunker than she realized. She looked away, searching for her reflection to make sure she wasn’t as red as she felt she was. Instead, she saw Lockwood watching the whole scene.

“Would you like to dance, maybe?” Kipps asked behind her.

She looked back at him, unable to refuse after what he had done for her. They headed towards the dancing crowd and when she looked back, Lockwood was gone. She tried to focus on her steps and not let him distract her movements. Her head was dangerously dizzy and if it was not for Kipps’ arm around her waist she would have fallen down twice already.

The song felt like it was going on forever, her feet were killing her and a headache started to hurt her temples. After another spin, she spotted Norrie’s red hair from afar, tray in hand and a wide smile on her face. She locked eyes with her and winked before heading back towards the buffet. Did Lucy manage to get the documents? She tried to look around to see if George or Lockwood had the folder. There were so many faces to look at. She lost her balance and tripped, saved by her dancing partner’s quick reflexes.

“y/n are you okay? You should drink some water.” He said as he led her towards the bar. He helped her sit down and brought her a glass, checking if she was alright. He never let go of her hand the whole time.

“I’m fine, I think I just had too much champagne.”

She barely had the time to take a sip of water when a familiar voice resonated behind her.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

She felt Lockwood place his arm behind her back, his touch just as warm as it had been a few hours earlier. His other hand reached her chin, making her look up at him with sleepy eyes.

“Did he make you drink too much?” He asked her in a softer tone, worry filling his voice.

“This is ridiculous!” Kipps answered.

“You shut up!”

“Come on Tony, throwing a tantrum because I danced with your girlfriend, seriously?”

“You-”

“Lockwood! I’m okay, I swear.” She intervened. “Kipps you’ve been great tonight. Thank you for everything, but don’t ruin it now.” She squeezed his hand before letting go. She turned back towards Lockwood. “Maybe we should go now? The first guests seem to be leaving too.”

He hadn’t stopped glaring towards Kipps. When he looked back down at her, he sighed before agreeing.

“Why don’t you go look for George? I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He seemed surprised at her words, like he couldn’t conceive letting her alone with Kipps any longer. He pressed his hand against her back before heading towards the hall. She stood back up, struggling with the height of her heals. Kipps helped her up, holding her still as she tried to find her balance.

“Thank you for everything, Kipps. I never thought you would help me get revenge on Dufour and I have to say that I greatly appreciate it.”

“I tried being the bigger person but it didn’t work out too well for me.”

She teased him once more about the childish fight he had with Lockwood, not convinced that he could ever be the bigger person. They laughed, and she felt truly happy at the comradery they shared. She offered to meet him some time for coffee. He agreed and told her she should probably get back to her boss to avoid any trouble at home. She answered that he was annoying as they hugged goodbye and he ruffled her hair in exchange. With a smile, she headed towards the entrance where Lockwood was already waiting with her coat in hand.

As soon as they got in the car, Lockwood pulled a folder out of his jacket. His smile was radiant as he went over the numbers. They were more than enough to put the Organization in trouble, and hopefully Dufour with it too. As enthusiastic as he was, they were too exhausted to be receptive. George swore he would never set foot in this kind of event ever again while y/n struggled to stay awake.

“I’d rather fight thirteen limbless than talk to another member of that stupid organization.” He exclaimed, shuffling in his seat, disturbing her as she rested her head against the window. There was no time for her to fall asleep, as the cab was already slowing down in front of the house.

George practically jumped out of the car, eager to go to bed to “put this horrible night behind him”. She didn’t know what happened that made him so irritable, but she was sure she had missed something while she was talking to Kipps. Lockwood stepped out next, waiting beside the door to help her out. It was out of necessity more than chivalry since her knees buckled when she stood up. Never leaving her side, he helped her up the stairs into the hall. She started walking or rather stumbling towards the stairs when Lockwood stopped her in her tracks.

“You should drink at least two full glasses of water before sleeping.”

She didn’t answer and simply pouted like a child.

“Fine, if you can walk up to the attic on your own, I won’t make you drink water.”

She gave him an exaggerated smile and immediately tripped over the first step. He put his arm around her and led her towards the kitchen.

She rested against the countertop while he poured her a glass from the tap. She drank it all and he filled it up again. She smiled lazily. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He stared back, making sure she drank it all. The stood there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, wordlessly getting lost in each other’s eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She said while tilting her head to the side.

It was a bad call. She couldn’t even move her head without being a fall risk.

He caught her just in time, as he always had this evening, and held her closer to start the long climb to the attic. She rested her face against his chest, nestling and taking comfort in his reassuring scent.

“Oh no…” She muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m putting make-up all over your shirt.” Her voice was sad but she made no move to try and stop it.

“It’s not the first time you put your make-up all over me tonight, darling. I think I’ll be alright.”

After the first flight of stairs, she slouched even more against him. Instead of taking the way up to the attic, he led her towards the opposite end of the hallway in his room. She didn’t register until he laid her down on his bed. The blanket she felt underneath her fingertips wasn’t the same texture as the one she had gotten used to.

“Lockwood I can’t sleep in your bed.” She mumbled, her face pressed into a pillow.

“Of course you can. You’re half asleep already.”

“Yeah but-”

“I’ll go sleep in your bed for tonight.”

She muttered an “okay” barely audible, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“I think that’s enough drinking and dancing for a while.” He said as he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

“Hardly, I didn’t even get to dance with you!” Her eyelids started to close. “You’re the only one I wanted to dance with.”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep instantly, not noticing when Lockwood exited the room quietly.

---

She woke up to the sound of hammers from the construction across the street. The sun burned her eyes and a painful headache pressed her forehead when she tightly closed her eyelids. She reached for the closest pillow and buried her head under it, hoping to draw out the hurtful sound and the blinding light. It didn’t do much, but it had the perk of surrounding her with a familiar comforting scent. She didn’t know how long she stayed like this. She remembered this wasn’t her room and she was surprised that no one had come in yet. She turned on her side and opened her eyes carefully. The first thing she saw was a glass of water resting on the bedside table. The second was Lockwood’s clothes from last night hanging on the back of his chair. She stared at them for a while, wondering if he had been comfortable enough to change in the same room she was passed out in. While she was sleeping in his bed, nonetheless. She tried the best she could to sit up. Drinking on an empty stomach had not done her any favor. There wasn’t much chance she would get anything done today. She drank the glass left for her and rose up with great difficulty.

Everything hurt. She made her way down the stairs, and by the time she reached the kitchen someone had made her a plate with warm toast. It was sitting on the table at the seat she usually took but there was no one around to greet her. She forced herself to eat even though her stomach wasn’t cooperative and drank as much water as she could, hoping it would help getting over her hangover. The house was quiet. It was a nice change from the noises that had woken her up but it was unsettling not hearing any sign of life. Usually when she thought she was alone she would still hear Lockwood training in the basement or George mutter something under his breath while researching a case. It was rare that the both of them left at the same time. She wondered where they could have gone as she made her way back up the stairs. She passed the library and the turning of pages made her turn around. Lockwood was sitting in his armchair, flipping through his magazine the way he usually did in the late hours of the night after a case. He was impeccable as always and she felt acutely self-conscious standing there at the beginning of the afternoon with messy hair and probably runny make-up all over her face. If he looked up from his magazine she didn’t pay him any attention and ran upstairs to try and look more presentable, no matter how awful she felt.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked when she came back down, not looking up from what he was reading. She took the sit next to him.

“As good as I can.” She answered, massaging her temples.

He pushed forward a glass of water on the table between them.

“Where’s George?” She asked between two sips.

“I sent him to deliver the documents to DEPRAC. I thought he was better suited to leave it anonymously with a semblance of discretion. If Barnes ever saw me there, we could never get away with it.”

“Smart.” She had avoided his eyes the entire time. The entire night was blurry, but the alcohol had not erased the specific memories she was trying to ignore. They stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he finished his magazine, eventually closing it and putting it back on the table between them. The ghost-jar was back into the fireplace, covered in ashes with burn marks here and there. She wondered when George had found the time to keep experimenting on it with how busy they had been these past few weeks. Instead of making its usual horrible faces it simply stared at her. It looked over at Lockwood who didn’t seem to pay him no mind, then back at her with that same insistent stare. It made her even more uncomfortable than the heavy silence filling the room. When she got up to get away from it, it smiled. A crude and devilish smile. What a horrid wretched thing. She was too distracted to realize that Lockwood had followed her into the hall.

“y/n, about last night…”

Before she could turn around, the entire chain of events flashed before her eyes. What part did he want to talk about: her drunken state, the night she spent in his bed, the lipstick mark she left on his cheek or the way she almost kissed him? She couldn’t pick which would be more embarrassing. She didn’t want to talk about any of it either. She didn’t even want to think about it, though this part was harder than it looked. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of his hand around her waist in that first-floor bathroom. After behaving so recklessly, a conversation like this was bound to happen. They might as well get it over with.

“I just wanted to say…”

When she finally mustered the courage to look him in the eye, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” She said, hurrying to open the door.

It was Kipps, coming to see if she was feeling better.

“I’m doing alright! Thanks for checking in.”

“I brought you some chocolate chip cookies from a bakery near my flat. Thought they could help.”

“That’s sweet of you Kipps but we’re a doughnut family here.” Lockwood said before snatching the bag out of his hands, coming behind her to wave Kipps away. Kipps ignored him and turned his attention back to her.

“If you’re feeling okay maybe we could grab that cup of coffee you talked about last night?”

“Thanks but I’m still feeling a bit sick, I’d love to go out when I’m fully recovered though!”

“Sure, give me a call when you’re free. Take care, alright?”

“I will, thank you.”

She waved back at him as he left and slowly closed the door behind her. Lockwood was standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

“You asked Kipps to get coffee after what happened last night?”

“Yes, he’s been a real friend to me. He’s helping me with Dufour without me asking.”

“What do you mean he’s helping you? Have you been cooperating with him behind our backs?”

“Of course not! I just found out he’s been giving her bad press.”

“So, it wasn’t a date then?”

“Are you jealous of Quill Kipps?” She asked with a laugh.

“How dare you say something like that under my roof!”

They both smiled at the situation, easing the tension that was there a few minutes earlier.

“But seriously, y/n. I wanted to apologize about last night. I never meant to make anything weird or-”

“Can we just say that we both acted dumb?”

He took a few seconds to consider her offer.

“Well, you started it.” He grinned.

She looked at him defiantly. She would not take the fall for this, even though her unrequited crush was definitely to blame.

“Didn’t you call me darling last night?”

He blushed at the mention, only saved by the front door opening and letting George in, followed closely by Inspector Barnes. The intrusion of the DEPRAC representative took them aback. They stared mutely back and forth between George and the inspector, waiting for an explanation. The man stared back at them, a familiar folder in hand. Without saying a word, Lockwood led him to the living room. y/n closed the door before joining them. Barnes stood in the middle of the room, glaring between them, holding up the folder and pointing it accusingly at Lockwood.

“I don’t want to know how you could have gotten your hand on these documents.”

“I’ve never seen that folder before in my life.” Lockwood replied, feigning innocence.

“Shut it! I don’t care how you did it, I know it was you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have caught Karim here sneaking out of Scotland Yard after an ‘anonymous contribution’ was made for the case you seem to be tied to.” He glared in her direction to punctuate his words. After holding her stare in an anger-fueled silence, he looks down in resignation. “As much as I hate to admit it, this evidence makes our case stronger against the Silverpoint Organization.”

She couldn’t help a thin smile to form on her lips. She looked back at Lockwood, relieved. He was already looking back at her with a soft smile. He winked before looking back at Barnes with a proud smile.

“Don’t even dare congratulate yourselves for this. Next time you step out of line, one mistake and I revoke your license and shut down this agency for good.”

They all looked down, trying to hide their joy at hearing that their plan had worked. After a few more minutes of silent scolding, the inspector aimed for the door.

“An audit of the organization’s finances will start in a few days and we’ll probably put an end to your surveillance.” He turned back. “That does not mean that you should get back to breaking any law-”

“Does that mean that Dufour will be arrested soon?” y/n couldn’t help asking, interrupting Barnes who had an exasperated look on his face. He sighed.

“Unfortunately, like any person involved in relic dealings the only evidence that can guarantee an arrest are catching the perpetrators in the act. I’m afraid Mrs. Dufour will remain free for now.” He didn’t seem as frustrated as she was. Probably because this kind of injustice was commonplace in his line of work. Still, her highest hopes came crashing down. The rollercoaster from the joy of their success to this disillusion made her sick.

“Oh.” She simply said.

“I’ll do my best to get her complaint against you dropped. Don’t get the idea of putting yourself in any more danger to get more evidence yourself. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly clear, inspector.”

The three of them led him back to the front door. When she closed it behind him, George and Lockwood both placed an arm around her.

“We’ll figure something out.” Lockwood said. “I promise.”

“It’s alright.” She said in a flat tone. “I’ll go lie down for a while, I think I’m still sick from the champagne.”

As she went up the stairs, her mind was already reeling. If Barnes couldn’t get the evidence he needed to put Dufour away for good, she’d find a way to do it herself.

#who follows the rules anyway #ukuwrites #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #george karim #lucy carlyle #norrie white #quill kipps #montagu barnes #save lockwood and co

[blissfulbarbie]

Maybe Twice a Year / Pedro Pascal x Reader

A sequel to Just Once a Year

The soft glow of Pedro's phone illuminates the dimness of his bedroom. He viciously scrolls through the headlines, the words stabbing like daggers as he reads the tabloid's sensational claim: "Y/N L/N Pregnant with Rumored Boyfriend Henry's Baby!" With a frustrated sigh, he throws the phone onto his bed, resentment and heartbreak coursing through his veins. It was bad enough that he was jet-lagged. Reading this basically confirmed he wouldn’t be getting sleep tonight - or any night in the foreseeable future. 

It had been months since your fateful reunion at the awards show and neither of you had spoken or run into each other since then. But that once a year promise of hope in Pedro’s heart was about to turn into two. The theatre company that you and Pedro were patrons of (along with a few other notable names in Hollywood) was launching a new program and you were both invited to the gala. 

Pedro wasn’t sure if you’d turn up. To be honest, after reading the news, he didn’t know if he even wanted you to show. Knowing that you were pregnant with another man’s child cut deeper than he thought it would. Throughout his whole life, Pedro never saw himself as a father, adamantly believing that he was content without fatherhood. That all changed when he fell in love with you. 

A week later, Pedro found himself getting ready for the gala. He was nervous, hands shaking as he fixed his tie. “You’re going to be fine. Just breathe and if you ever need an escape, call me and I’ll come rushing in saying your cat is having a medical emergency,” his assistant and close friend Andrew quips. Andrew knew everything about the two of you, and he was the first one Pedro confided in after that run-in at the awards show. 

“Thanks man. I’ll be fine. Please don’t harm any imaginary cats for my sake,” Pedro smiles. “I think maybe this will do me some good, you know? Closure and all that."

Andrew claps a hand on his shoulder. “If you need anything, I’m one call away.” 

He enters the venue where the gala is being held, and as always with these events, he felt worlds away from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. One of the things he missed about being with you was that you were the only person who made him feel like he had a place in all of this.  

He mingles with fellow attendees, his smile masking the turmoil that churned within him. His gaze wandered for a bit, and there you were with a group of other guests, your laughter mingling with the tinkling of glasses.

Pedro's heart skipped a beat, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He watched as you hold a champagne flute, your lips curving into a smile as you converse. The weight of the tabloid's claim hung over him like a storm cloud.

Summoning his courage, Pedro approaches you, a forced nonchalance in his tone. "Hey you. You supposed to be drinking that?" Damn. He forgot his hello’s and hi how are you’s. 

"Huh?" your eyes flicker with confusion, brows knitting together.

Pedro's cheeks flush as he realizes his reference to the tabloids. "I mean, you know.. With the um..” He makes a vague gesture towards your stomach region. 

You laugh with genuine amusement. "Really, Pedro? Since when do you read the tabloids?” 

He chuckles nervously, the tension between you momentarily eased. "I have a lot of free time these days.” (Lie) “I just happened to see it while scrolling around." (Another lie) “So you and Henry aren’t expecting–”

“Henry and I aren’t anything. Other than friends and co-workers.” You smile at his floundering. 

“Oh. Sorry. I– yeah, the damn tabloids.” Pedro huffs at his foolishness, maintaining a facade of nonchalance on the outside. Internally, all his tension and anxiety from the last few days washed away and he finally felt himself breathe easily for the first time since reading the article. 

As the night unfolds, you and Pedro eventually retreat to a quiet corner of the event, away from the prying eyes and the hum of conversations. The stars cast by the chandelier glitter above you, a mirror for the spark of emotions that still bubble within you both.

"I lied. I was looking for articles about you," Pedro finally admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Your gaze was steady, eyes holding a mixture of understanding and slight amusement. "I know. And you believed them?"

Pedro shakes his head, his fingers toying with the edge of his glass. "No, not really. It's just.. I used to know everything about you and now the only way I get any news about you is from the fucking tabloids. I miss knowing what you’re up to. It’s just.. Old habits die hard I guess.” Pedro swirls his glass, the alcohol loosening his lips and easing the weight on his heart just a little. 

You sigh softly, features softening. "Pedro, this past year has been hard on me too. We were best friends and I’m sorry for the way we ended things. We could’ve stayed friends. It wasn’t a messy break-up, right? We could’ve stayed in contact.” 

“No,” Pedro denies flatly. “No we couldn’t have because.. I’d have always wanted more.” Pedro knew that this was the God’s honest truth. As much as he loves you and wants you to be happy, he knew that having to watch your life from the sidelines as a friend would never be enough for him. 

You reach out, placing your hand over his. "You deserve a relationship where neither of us has to fight each other for attention. You deserve more than 5 minute hello’s and goodbye’s in the dead of night.” 

You stand in companionable silence for a moment, the world around you fading into insignificance. The year apart seemed to dissolve as you shared a quiet moment, the barriers melting away.

"I've missed you," Pedro whispers, his voice barely audible. “I know I shouldn’t say this but I have. And the truth is, you’ve spoiled dating for me. I’d take that 5 minutes with you every day if it means I get that 5 minutes with you every day for the rest of my life.” 

Your gaze meets his, eyes glassing over. "I've missed you too. Of course I have. But we can’t do this to ourselves again. It was never about love or a lack of it, you know that. If we could’ve made it work, we would have. It’s just.. our lives and our careers."

As the night grew older, you remain in your secluded corner, not talking, just enjoying each other’s company in private for the first time in a year. Both of you silently fantasizing that this night would never end and that you’d be here in your little bubble forever.

When the gala finally comes to an end, you and Pedro make your way outside, the cool night air washing over your skin. He takes a deep, audible inhale and turns to you, voice cracking with the weight of parting from you again. "You’re it for me, you know? If it’s not you, it’s not anyone else.” 

“Pedro…” 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He places a soft kiss on your cheek and turns to leave, his car and driver already waiting for him, leaving you with a face reddening from the alcohol and... something else.

-

I wasn't gonna do a sequel.. but my first ever fic (Just Once A Year) hitting 100 notes is something to celebrate so I hope you enjoy! Tagging @just-some-random-blogger because this is gonna surprise you and @cinnamon-todd because your comment was honestly the motivation for me to write a sequel!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro fic #pedro x you #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal x famous!reader #pedro pascal imagine

[ilyluffy]

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 || 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you get injured tighnari has no one to help him when he’s in heat, at first

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tighnari x gn!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut (minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of being in heat/mating, masturbation, sex outdoors, handjob, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, implied unprotected sex

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k+

𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄. sometimes at the expense of himself. you sometimes scolded the forest watcher for this habit but it was rare that he listened to you. this included the time you got injured while dealing with a withering zone.

luckily at the time other rangers had been with you so they were able to take you back so tighnari could tend to you. the other good news was that your wounds weren’t very serious. they would be healed with proper care but still, you were too hurt at the time to realize what time of year it was.

it just so happened that you had gotten sick around mating season. meaning that tighnari was in intense heat. normally at this time you’d give him some relief and take care of him but there was no way tighnari could ask you for help in the state you were in. so he suffered quietly.

sometimes he would be so pent up to the point where it was painful for him. naturally tighnari didn’t want you to worry so he’d finish giving you your medicine then snuck out while you were resting. with you sleeping in his bunk tighnari couldn’t satisfy himself there so he retreated to the woods.

going to a secret spot by a waterfall that only you and himself knew about, tighnari would pull out his aching cock. the only sound in the area would be water running, birds chirping, and tighnari’s breathy moans as he stroked his length. eventually he’d finish in his hand. unfortunately his balls would feel just as heavy as before. frustrated tighnari would have no choice but to clean himself in the river before returning back to you.

this routine continued until you finally got better. maybe it was because he was still concerned for you or perhaps he was embarrassed. whatever reason, tighnari hasn’t reminded you of his mating cycle. you had to find out by yourself after you followed tighnari out into the forest.

with your energy back you wanted to go for a walk with the forest watcher but he was nowhere to be found. when collei informed you that tighnari had gotten out you knew exactly where to go next. the place he always went to clear his head. it’s a good thing you went to find him too.

when you find him tighnari is struggling to cum. he doesn’t hear you approaching as he spits on his hand. his palm was starting to become too familiar. it wasn’t enough to relieve the tension anymore. poor tighnari needed more. thankfully for him you were there the oblige.

the moment you catch him you remember. initially you’re filled with guilt. the whole time he was caring for you tighnari was dealing with this on his own. the next emotion the overcomes you is annoyance with him.

startling him by appearing behind him, tighnari gasps when your hand replaces his and wraps around his girth. “you’re so stubborn” you whisper in his ear, making tighnari’s ears twitch. “you should have told me about this”.

his voice goes up an octave as tighnari responds. “you’re still recovering. i-i couldn’t trouble you” he stutters as you start flicking your wrists. fuck, your hand feels significantly better than his own. “i-i’m alright”.

“no you’re not” you retort, using your other hand to cup his balls. you’re taken aback by how much they weigh. “it hurts doesn’t it? you can be honest”.

tighnari hesitates but there’s really no denying it. his neediness overcomes his stubbornness in the end. eventually he’s nodding frantically in reply. “yes, please. h-help me through this heat. i’ll do anything”.

“you don’t have to repay me” you reassure. suddenly you let go of his cock, earning a whine from tighnari. promising that you’re not done with his, you move him to a nearby tree so he can lean against it. “you took care of me, let me take care of you” you hum, dropping to your knees.

the next thing tighnari knows you’re kissing his tip. you give his cute pink head a few kitten licks before your lips fully wrap around his cock. a hiss echoes from his mouth immediately. it’s drowned out by the waterfall to the rest of the jungle but you still hear it loud and clear. it makes you take him deep down your throat until you’re nearly choking.

your gagging rings in his pointy ears, making tighnari feel like he’s going even more wild. he holds back the feral side of him for as long as he can, letting you bob your head along his dick, but soon enough the animalistic urges take over. his mind becomes set on nothing but cumming. when his hips start to buck into your mouth there’s no stopping him.

you let him use your throat as if it’s his own personal fuck hole. how could you deny him when the moans he’s letting out are so beautifully pornographic? even with your eyes glossed over with tears you can still make out tighnari’s blushing face as he chases his orgasm.

his end approaches faster than either of you could have predicted. it’s a relief to your abused throat when his buts his load. you gulp it down like you’re dying of thirst, moaning at his salty taste. when tighnari pulls out of your mouth his breathing is erratic as he tries to collect himself.

“i-it still hurts” he confessed after a few minutes passed by. you’re not offended. it honestly doesn’t surprise you when he’s had no outlet for his uncontrollable desires. “want to take you back home” tighnari adds, fucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up. “need to fuck you properly. 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄”.

2022 © saecore — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

#apollo writes ✎ #tighnari #genshin impact #genshin #tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut

[jupitercomet]

Morning Person

summary - Goose is a morning person. You are not.

warnings - language, talks of sex

word count - 627

I probably shouldn’t post this at butt fuck o’clock, but I am going to anyway because I want to. this is dedicated to @bradshawsbitch​ my Goose Girlie sister in arms. please enjoy the little intro to college boy, hockey player Goose!

follow the adventures of Goose and Duck in Duck, Duck, Goose!

“Good morning, duck!”

You groan, shoving your pillow over your head as the peace in your dorm room is interrupted.

Goose ignores your current, clear disdain for light, turning on your overhead light and you groan again. “Rise and shine, my radiant little cherub.”

“I specifically picked afternoon classes so that I wouldn’t have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn, Goose.” You turn, squishing your cheek into the pillow, to glare at him.

“I know,” Goose grins widely, his eyes softening at your sleepy features. “But I thought, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I deprived you of my company for the whole morning?”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, since you said it so nicely.” You let out a slightly less frustrated groan as he falls on your mattress, getting comfortable on your twin bed.

For a man who claims to want to wake you up, his hand goes straight to scratching your scalp and you sigh contentedly, snuggling up to his leg and letting your eyes close again. It’s quiet for a moment—too quiet for a room holding Nick Bradshaw—but then he’s shuffling against your headboard as his thumb massages your temple.

“You think Mav and Ice are fuckin’?”

You wrinkle your nose against his thigh. “Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

“Listen, I’ve been theorizing—”

“You’ve been theorizing?”

“Don’t interrupt me, ducky, it’s not nice,” Goose’s finger stretches to tap your nose. “But yes, I’ve been theorizing. Every time we let Mav and Ice privately duke it out in the locker room, they always have their best practice literally the next day. I’m like 86.3% sure they’re fucking.”

You prop your head up on his leg, tapping his hand so he’ll resume massaging your scalp. “Is this what you woke me up at 7 in the morning for? To theorize about your best friend’s sex life?”

“I’m worried about him, it’s not good for a boy his age to go this long being celibate,” Goose sighs deeply, his fingers moving against your hair again.

You fake a gag. “See, these are things about Maverick that I didn’t need to know.”

“But who else would I tell? You’re the person I tell everything to.”

“You know, if we weren’t talking about Maverick getting laid right now,” you let out a yawn, moving to fully cuddle Goose’s right leg. “That would be cute.”

“You’re cute,” Goose grins.

You pat around the bed without responding, refusing to open your eyes. Goose seems to know what you want already, grabbing your hand with his free one. You hum at the feeling of his hand and the weight of his fingers against your scalp. “I’m going back to bed now. Good night.”

“Fine,” Goose sighs wistfully. “But I can’t be held responsible for the sharpie mustache that will inevitably end up on your face. We’ll be twins.”

“I can’t stand you. I hope you trip on the ice tonight and eat shit.”

Goose laughs. “I love when you sweet talk me, duck. Do it some more.”

“Let me sleep!” You whine, stretching out the word pathetically.

The mattress creaks under his weight as he dips down to press a kiss to your lips and you feel him smile against you. “Since I’m the best ever, you get one hour, duck.”

You bury your face in the fabric of his light gray sweatpants with a grumble. Finally, it’s quiet, and with Goose’s fingers massaging your neck and head, you find yourself being lulled back to sleep. Tension seeps from your body as you melt against his thigh, a small smile making its way onto your face as you relax.

“Be honest, do you think I’d look good with a mullet?”

“Goose, for the love of God!”

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#nick bradshaw imagine #nick bradshaw imagines #nick bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw fluff #nick bradshaw au #goose imagine #goose imagines #goose x reader #goose fluff #goose au #top gun imagines #x reader #duck duck goose #buggy's got a pen