#not to mention the coding class i still need to work on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acciojaeyun · 4 days

Text

under the web | p.sh.

PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!

WORD COUNT. 4.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It was an annoying morning.

Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.

You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.

How did you know about that, though?

One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.

Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.

Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.

But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.

Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.

A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.

And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.

"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."

"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.

"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"

"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."

You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"

"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."

"Or, he's a virgin."

Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"

A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."

"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"

"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"

"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."

"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.

You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.

"Hi," you greeted.

Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.

"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"

The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.

"What about it?"

"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."

Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.

"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"

"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"

The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.

But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.

Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.

"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"

You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"

"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.

"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.

He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.

You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.

You were not expecting what you are seeing.

Not at all.

Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.

You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.

If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.

You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.

You laughed, his degree really has his perks.

You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.

And all of them had the same theme: office sex.

It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.

Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.

He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"

Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.

And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.

You.

He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.

"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."

"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."

"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."

"Y/N? Why her?"

"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.

"So, it's true?"

Sunghoon shrugged again.

"Are you going to do something to address it?"

"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."

"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"

Sunghoon laughed.

Your plan was working.

A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.

You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.

So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.

"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.

"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.

But he remained stoic. And that irked you.

You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.

He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.

Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?

"S-Sunghoon?"

He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.

"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."

You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.

Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.

Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.

Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.

Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.

Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.

By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?

Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.

Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"

"What else!"

He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"

You scoffed, "That's it?"

He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"

You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."

And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.

But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.

Because you deserved it.

The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.

Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.

That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.

A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.

Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.

Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.

So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.

"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.

You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.

The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."

You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.

"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"

"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"

And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.

"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.

"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"

Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.

Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.

He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.

"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.

Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"

"Take your time with me, Hoon."

A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.

"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"

Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.

"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"

And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.

He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.

A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.

However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.

"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.

You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."

"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."

"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."

Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."

"It is."

846 notes · View notes

inky-duchess · 3 months

Text

Fantasy Guide to Education

I'm always asked what sort of education different people recieve throughout different historical eras and since I'm heading back to college soon, I thought it was high time I made this guide.

Disparity

Education is viewed as a right by many but for some and thoughout history it was a privilege. For the wealthy and those of high status, education can be easily accessed. They can afford to tailor an education to fit their needs, they can hire tutors, and they can afford tuitions to top schools. For the poor, education was a luxury. However this doesn't mean that it was available. Some communities would fund a school or send their children to a local teacher - usually they had to pay a daily fee or at least bring kindling for the heating. Many poorer children also worked so they could not attend school consistently or were pulled out very early into their education. However, some poorer students could gain access to high level education if they were extremely bright or caught the attention of a wealthy benefactor who could fund their education.

Education as a Weapon

Education could also be banned for certain groups in society. It could be illegal to fund schools or host gatherings for students of a certain background, race, religion or gender. Education against the law could be punished by imprisonment, exile or execution. This is a measure usually taken by oppressive governments in order to follow a moral code or restrict the betterment of a certain group. An example would be the Irish Catholics under the Penal Laws.

On the otherhand, there is education that is influenced by the state to inject certain values, moralities and Opinions into a population. This is the intense restriction of reading material, removal of books that contest the teachings of the government or the kidnap of children from their culture, in order to forcibly educated them in alignment to their beliefs. An example would be the residental schools of North America and Canada and the AHS schools of Nazi Germany.

Content

As above, content of what children learn usually falls into a certain category. This is also true for the education offered to the wealthy and the poor. The poor would be offered a basic education, learning literacy and arithmetic, usually with an expectation that the children would not go on to any jobs that needs a broader education. Any higher education would be hard to obtain because of cost and the discriminatory view of the enrollment panels. The wealthy would have access to an array of different subjects including: The arts (drawing, music, painting, poetry, dancing), sports (riding, martial skills, rowing, hunting), arithmetic, geography, languages, geography and history. While progression to higher education will still be difficult, any affluent families are legacies of prestigious colleges or can make a donation to grease a few palms. These schools would be where the wealthy make lifelong connections and get springboarded toward opportunities.

Private Tutoring

Whilst some affluent, aristocratic and Royal families send their children to schools, private tutoring in the home was a popular choice. Children would be educated at home but tutors who either lived in the home or come to the house. The children would be educated alongside siblings or the children of courtiers or neighbours. Private tutoring sessions would often be the only education for upper class women recieved, taught by governesses and tutors.

Premises and Equipment

As mentioned above, wealthy and aristocratic families would usually attend established schools or attend school at home. They would be provided any equipment they needed. If they attend school, they would often wear a uniform. Some schools had multiple variations of the uniform for different activities. Many of the schools attended would be boarding schools. Boarding schools offered education to those who boarded and day students, however day students were often looked down upon as lesser than.

Poorer schools would be relient on donations and fees paid by students. As mentioned above, there may be a building reserved for classes - sometimes an designated schoolhouse or a teacher's home or a public building such as a gathering house or sometimes even outside - hedge schools. Equipment would be provided by the school. Uniforms at poorer schools were not a thing but students were expected to show up neat and tidy.

Corporal Punishment

Corporal punishment at schools was the go to punishment for students. Teachers had free rein to strike children for mistakes and bad behaviour. Punishments include insolation, physical stress positions such as standing on a chair all day, getting objects thrown at them, being slapped on the back of the legs with a cane, being rapped on the palms or knuckles with a crop or ruler. Students may also be humiliated by teachers through the use of dunce hats, encouraging other children to bully them or by the use of verbal abuse. Corporal punishment did extend to all classes except for royal children since that was either taken by proxy by whipping boys or left up to parents.

#Fantasy Guide to Education #Fantasy Guide #writing #writeblr #writing resources #writing reference #writing advice #writer #spilled words #writers #Writer's research #Writer's resources #Writer's reference #writer's problems #Writing help #Writing resources writing reference #Writing reference writing resources

798 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

Note

Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.

Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!

Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it

Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.

They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.

Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.

Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.

A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.

"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"

This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.

Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.

"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."

The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."

Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"

This means, "We will meet the double tonight."

The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.

They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)

They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.

They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.

"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.

"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.

"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"

"You be surprised......."

Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.

There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.

Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.

"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.

"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."

"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.

He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.

"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"

"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.

Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.

"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.

"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."

Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."

Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Double Vision #Basically Danny is not impressed #All his villains are villains here too #That Batkids play Batman bingo #It's bonding so Bruce lets them

875 notes · View notes

pretentiouswreckingball · 1 month

Text

✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯

jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au

summary:

It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—

“Did you hear what happened?”

“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”

“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”

“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”

“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”

“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”

“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”

“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”

But Regulus had heard enough.

He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.

Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.

The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.

He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.

So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?

Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.

Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.

“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.

Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”

Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”

“Wasn’t a compliment,”

Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”

“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”

“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.

Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”

“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”

“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.

Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”

Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

Barty smirks at him, “You will,”

There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.

Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.

“Looking good, Potter!”

“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.

Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.

Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?

Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.

“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.

“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”

James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”

“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.

When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.

There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.

James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.

“So, Regulus,” he starts.

“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.

He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.

A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.

“My eyes are up here, love.”

His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.

James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.

“You’re blushing,” he notices.

Regulus' face is practically red at this point.

“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.

“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.

It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”

“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.

“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”

Regulus frowns. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”

James smirks, “I think I will manage,”

This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”

James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.

Regulus does, of course he does.

Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.

Together.

#well. let it not be said I never do anything nice for you guys #happy birthday James!!!#pathetic Reggie my fave Reggie #wait for the slutty shorts James later today!!#and just fyi Sirius looks amazing in that crop top too #also pardon any mistakes I wrote this last night half asleep #anyways enjoy!!!#james potter #James Potter birthday #croptopjames #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #(?) idk

265 notes · View notes

farity · 2 months

Text

Devil in the Details

"Oh. My. Motherfucking. God."

You turned at your friend Floris's whispered exclamation.

It took you but a second to figure out what she was so excited about.

Aemond Targaryen, the black sheep of the Targaryen dynasty, the reclusive billionaire who looked down at everyone vying for his attention, the man you'd been in lust with since you'd met him five years ago, had actually made an appearance at the glittering charity gala hosted by his mother.

"I need to get his skin care routine," Floris said, biting on her lower lip as she scrutinized Aemond from head to toe. "I'd love to climb that tree tonight."

Good luck with that, you thought to yourself.

You'd been in the same Uni class as his sister Helaena and met Aemond when you'd gone over to work on a joint project. He'd been quiet and almost shy, and you had been instantly smitten.

And had not been able to date anyone in the five years since because all you thought about was Aemond Targaryen.

Not that he gave you a second thought, as far as you knew.

"What the fuck is he wearing?" Floris continued, and, tired of pining after the man, you looked at her and snapped, "why don't you go find out?" before walking away to get your drink refilled.

* * * * *

"We are so very thankful for your family's contribution - the children will benefit greatly," Alicent smiled at you, leaning in to air-kiss you as you said your goodbyes.

You got your coat from the girl at the front, and were about to call for your car when you felt a hand grab your arm.

"Leaving already?"

Your heart began pounding as you recognized Aemond's voice, and taking a breath to steady yourself, you turned to face him.

By the Seven, he looked amazing. He'd shaved off his hair a few months ago when Aegon had done the same after having one too many drinks. Alicent had screamed at her oldest son and out of brotherly solidarity, Aemond had grabbed the electric shaver and started running it along his scalp right in front of his mother.

His eyes bore into yours, the prosthetic eye he had so perfect that you couldn't tell which eye was the real one. Every time you thought about it, you wanted to wallop his cousin, the little shit who had taken Aemond's eye during a childhood fight.

"I've seen enough people to last me a few months," you said, looking at what was, indeed, damn perfect skin, as Floris had mentioned. And was that eyeliner? Because his eyes had never been bluer than they were at that moment.

"Tell me about it," he said, still holding on to your arm, "I was going to grab a drink at the quiet bar next door, if you're game."

There was something vulnerable in his expression and you found yourself nodding and taking the arm he offered. "What in the world are these?" you asked.

He looked down at the latex gloves. "Mother's been berating me for not making an appearance at these things," he shrugged, "so here I am. Maybe she should have specified a dress code."

* * * * *

"You know, there's a name for what you're doing," you said, taking a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Malicious compliance."

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that would be me." He looked back up at you, eyes sparkling, "if she'd wanted me to wear a tux, she should have said so."

"Would you have, though?" you prodded, "I have a feeling you would have figured some way to twist that dress code around. You were always the clever one."

"Not so clever if I never got you to go out with me."

You stared at him for a few seconds. "Aemond, you never asked."

"I'm asking now."

He placed a few bills on the table and placed his hand palm up on the table.

You narrowed your eyes at him, making him laugh, and then placed your hands on his, and let him lead you out the door.

* * * * *

"How is Helaena liking Naath?"

"She loves it there. She has to get her shot every six months but she doesn't care, as long as she can keep studying the butterflies."

"And Aegon?"

"He stopped drinking after he shaved off his head, said it didn't suit his perfectly shaped skull."

You laughed, remembering Aegon's rather oversized ego, and then stole a glance at Aemond. "What about you? How have you been?"

He shrugged, "the company is doing well, family's good," he looked at you, "and I'm on a wonderful date."

You raised your eyebrows, "oh it's a date, is it?"

You could have sworn he blushed, but he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back. "It very much is, but I do have a problem." He looked at you very seriously. "I need to lose these damn gloves."

* * * * *

It took about twenty minutes of careful tugging and maneuvering but finally, Aemond was free of the gloves and while you got two coffees to keep you going, he headed to the bathroom to wash his arms.

Back on the street, he grabbed your hand in his as he sipped at his coffee. "This is much better."

"So where on earth does one get this sort of getup to shock Alicent Hightower?"

He smiled. "My friend is a stylist and he hooked me up. His girlfriend is a makeup artist and she put all this stuff on my face and hair."

"You look amazing," you said sincerely, "your eyes look super blue."

"I could feel mom's blood pressure spiking as she noticed the eyeliner and highlighter," he laughed. "It was worth it."

"I bet she'll say extra prayers for you tonight."

Nodding, he took another sip of his coffee. "Not enough prayers in the world," he mused. You stopped to drink some of your own coffee and he pulled you closer. "And I really want to kiss you."

You looked up at him, your heart beating faster, and then he placed his coffee cup down, and took your face in his hands. He brushed his nose against yours, not rushing you, and then his lips touched yours. He kept the kiss light and gentle, his fingertips threading through your hair as you sighed against him.

He murmured your name as he wrapped an arm around you. You didn't want this to end, this magical night, and then he spoke again.

"Come home with me."

* * * * *

"You feel so damn good," Aemond whispered in the lift, his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The car stopped and the doors opened, and you stepped into his loft, his hands roaming over your ass as you kicked off your shoes and let him pull you up against him.

"I want you so fucking much," you said against his mouth. He led you to his bedroom and you sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shirt off over his head. "Come here, Aemond," you smiled.

He walked up to you, slowly, and you reached up to undo the fastenings on his leather trousers, keeping your eyes on him. Your hand lightly went over where he was already hard as a rock, and he hissed.

You drew down the zipper ever so slowly, biting down on your lower lip.

"I am going to make you pay for this," he gritted out.

"For what?" you asked innocently, starting to tug down the waistband. When you finally freed him, your eyes darting between his cock and his eyes, you licked your lips and took him in your mouth.

"Fuck."

"Hmmmm," you moaned around him, relaxing your throat so you could take him deeper. You could hear Aemond's breathing stuttering as you slowly pulled your lips all the way to the very tip of him and then took him back down your throat, hollowing out your cheeks.

"Fuck," he repeated, "I, uh, I can't-"

You felt him suddenly pull you off him and push you back on the bed.

"This is going to end too quickly if you keep doing that, angel."

"Angel?"

"Look at you," he said, indicating your white shimmery gown. "An angel about to be debauched."

You let one strap of the dress fall off your shoulder. "What does that make you, then?"

He lunged for you, hands on the bed on either side of you, and the smile on his face made you shiver.

"Me? I'm already destined for hell, love."

He took your lips, not slowly or gently this time, but desperately, his mouth all consuming on yours as he demanded entrance with his tongue and you willingly gave it. He was tugging down your dress as he kissed you, long fingers deftly maneuvering the yards of fabric until he had bared your breasts and then he pulled back, looking down at you.

You pushed the rest of the dress down until it fell on the floor, then laid back down and extended your arms to him. "Come here, Aemond," you said for the second time that night.

He shoved down the trousers, kicked them aside and spread your legs open before he kissed you again. He was so warm, his skin ablaze against yours, and you pulled him down to you, unable to get enough of him.

He began to kiss your neck, long fingers teasing your nipple, and then his mouth was on your breast and you moaned, the sharp sting of pleasure making you arch against him. He reached down lower, between your thighs, and you gasped.

"Tell me what you like," he murmured against your lips.

"Oh," you breathed as he settled on a steady rhythm, drawing tiny circles on the knot of nerves, "you're doing fine," you managed.

"Fine is not what I'm aiming for," he said, and slipped two fingers inside you and you cried out, your hips beginning to rock against him. "I want you to come for me," he added, curling his fingertips inside you.

"Aemond," you whispered, one hand on his shoulder, the other grabbing at his hair. "I- I'm-" you pressed your face to his neck a moment before the orgasm barreled through you, your cry muffled against his skin.

You felt him kneeing your legs apart and then he was pushing inside you. As ready as you were for him, he was big, and you bit down on your lower lip, still recovering and still wanting more.

"You can take me," he murmured soothingly as he kissed your temple. "Next time you come, I want to feel it around my cock," he said, and you whimpered as he rocked his hips to fill you completely.

He pulled back slowly, eyes on you, making sure you were okay, and then snapped his hips. You let your head fall back, and felt his teeth on your jaw, raking gently. "So good," he whispered, "I've wanted you for so long," he said as he settled on long, slow strokes. "So fucking long."

"Aemond," you closed your eyes, the feeling of him moving inside you beginning to send you back into that delicious spiral.

He reached between you, fingertips finding you and you moaned. "I can feel you," he said, "you-"

You cried out as you came, and felt him grab your hips to steady himself as he reached his own orgasm.

* * * * *

As reserved and aloof as you had always thought him to be, he hadn't stopped kissing and caressing you in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The man was full of surprises.

"Stay with me," he murmured against your cheek. "Tonight."

"How can I go when you've got me completely caged in," you teased, looking down at the arms he had wrapped around you and the way his legs were tangled with yours.

"Damn, I was trying to be stealthy," he smirked back. "We'll get breakfast, maybe I'll let you lure me back to bed again."

You rolled your eyes at him. "Rewriting history, are we? I remember trying to leave and someone grabbing my arm."

His eyes became serious on yours. "If I could rewrite history, I would have grabbed you a lot sooner." He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "But I mean to make up for it."

You smiled against him, and let him pull you closer, thinking you were only too happy to let him make it up to you for a long, long time.

#hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you

259 notes · View notes

pyramid-of-starrs · 5 months

Note

More clingy/possessive/obsessive san x Black reader those make me go feral ! LOL

PTA Parent: Celebrating 300 Followers!

Daddy San x Mommy Fem reader

Summary: You and San are married with a beautiful Daughter, sometimes you both can get busy in your day-to-day life and with a clingy husband like San it can absolutely get annoying.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Parent AU

Warnings: Acts of possessiveness, some toxic behavior from San, pushy man, mentions of killing (no one dies), adultery??

Smut warnings: Spanking, crying, vaginal sex, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of impregnation, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I'm kinda unsure about how I feel about this story so please let me know what you think in the comments! Also there might be hella typos lol

Minors dni

"Breakfast is ready." You said as you finished setting up the table still in your robe and pjs, the sounds of two sets of foot steps heading your way could be heard, one belonging to your 6 year old daughter Anya and the other belonging to your husband San. They both enter the kitchen after San finished getting Anya dressed and doing her hair in two curly puffs. The little girl runs over to her seat at the end of the table where she waits for her daddy to pull out her chair and push it back in, then San walks over to give you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the other end of the table and they both thank you for the meal.

"Mommy look at my hair! Daddy did it by himself this time and it barely hurt." Anya said as she moved her head back and forth to show off her new hairstyle.

"Wooow so pretty, daddy did a good job! Even better than me." You exaggerated to make your child and husband feel better.

"No! He'll never be as good as Mommy! He is too rough with his hands!" She protested while you giggled.

"Heeey, Daddy is really good with his hands, if I wasn't you probably wouldn't be here." San said while continuing to eat, you kicked him under the table for his joke, once everyone finished eating you cleared the table while San got ready to take your daughter to school then he was heading to work. While on the way out you hugged Anya and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Have a good day Honey, Mommy loves you."

"I love you more Mommy!" Anya said back while hugging you.

"No, I love you more." You playfully said back.

"Well I love mommy the absolute mostest in the world!" she excitedly said, San pouted a bit.

"What about Daddy Anya? Don't you love Daddy too?"

"Not as much as mommy! I love Mommy more than anyone."

"Not more than me! I love her way more!" San said as he pulled you up from your child to kiss you, Anya's little fist started to hit her father's leg.

"Get off my mommy!" She yelled.

"She was my mommy first!" He argued back.

"San!" You hit him on the shoulder, this was a pretty normal occurrence, San has always been clingy even before you two started dating, he moved fast throughout the relationship and immediately expressed his interest in marrying you and making a family, little did you know you two would just end up making a mini San that is just as obsessed with you.

"Since I'm off early tonight and Anya is going home with her friend from class maybe we could go out to dinner." He said as he held your waist.

"Baby I would love to but you know I go to PTA on Friday nights." You replied as San's signature pouty lip returned.

"You can't miss this one? I've been working like crazy and I miss you so much, we haven't had a "play date" since Monday." San replied, your face heated up a bit since play dates were the code you used for sex, though he was right, you would be lying if you said you didn't also miss being with your husband intimately. Your sex drive was fairly normal and technically so was San's but it wasn't about the need to cum for him, it was about the need to feel you in a way that no one else can, feeling you wrapped around him while he listened to your beautiful moans and whimpers with your nails making artwork on his back made him crazy, getting to see your beautiful bare brown skin was pure bliss for him. Though it was a beautiful and raw moment for San it was something a bit different for you, Sans obsession with you and your body tends to make him a little crazy in the bedroom, it's almost like cuteness aggression, except instead of wanting to squeeze you San wants to fuck you until you can't walk, think or see straight. The day that you two got married he fucked you all night and made you two almost miss your flight to your honeymoon.

"I-I know but I can't miss this meeting, the person I'm partnered with needs me for the school bake sale prep." he gazed into your eyes hoping that you would change your mind but as much as he wanted you all to himself he just had to be okay with that not being realistic.

"Fine, I guess it can't be helped then, Anya why don't you run upstairs and grab the mini shiber plush I gave you so you can have someone to sleep with tonight at your friend's house." San said looking down at his daughter.

"Good idea Daddy!" the little girl cutely ran up the stairs to get her toy, though it seemed like an innocent suggestion it was just San's way of getting you alone for two seconds because as soon as your daughter was out of the room San kissed you hard with vigor and emotion, inserting his tongue in your mouth to swirl it around yours. All you could do is submit and whimper while you felt your core heat up, he managed to pin you against the door as he gripped your ass and placed his other hand against the door next to your head, when he pulled back from the kiss a string of spit followed his lips that connected yours

He leaned down to whisper into your ear. "I'm off tomorrow and Anya will be at her friend's still so expect to not get anything done and clear your schedule okay? " He stared directly into your eyes and soul with nothing but pure lust, San can't go too long without fucking you, it makes him unwell, you nodded your head to agree. "Use your words."

"Y-yes San." you said softly.

"Good girl." He said pecking your lips one more time before Anya re-entered the room with her plushie in hand. "Alright let's go Anny! Tell mommy bye."

"Bye Mommy!" They both said in sync as they left, you were still in disarray. Why did it just feel like you signed your soul to the devil?

...

Later that night you were sitting at your PTA meeting as San blew up your phone with messages of him telling you he missed you and all the unspeakable things he wanted to do to you. You sat at the table just watching the messages roll in, your breathing becoming shorter as you anticipated the things your husband had in store for you.

"Y/N? Did you hear me?" A voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh no sorry could you repeat that?" you said back to the person, the person being one of the other parents on the PTA, Kyle, he was the father of one of the girls in Anya's class that she was close with. He was recently divorced and splitting custody with his ex-wife, his daughter lived with his ex which is where Anya was having a sleepover at, you and San only ever interacted with the mom so meeting Kyle now was a bit random. He knew that the kids were close and that's why he asked to partner up with you for the bake sale project, at least that's what you assumed.

"Everything alright Y/N? You kinda left Earth for a second." He asked.

"Yeah, my husband is just freaking out about what he should have for dinner." Technically that wasn't a lie but San's dilemma was more so about the fact that he couldn't have you for dinner but Kyle didn't need to know that.

"Yeah sounds about right for us guys haha, anyways I asked if it was okay if I came over tomorrow night so we could get the baking for Sunday done? Then I can take everything in my car and drop it off since we don't have to be there." He suggested.

"That actually sounds like a good plan, my husband wanted to hang out tomorrow but I can cancel on him." you said while smiling at him.

"Cancelling for little ol me, oh I'm charmed." You both laughed, Kyle was a sweet guy but the rumor around school was that he was a cheater which is why his ex left him but he was so nice could that really be true?

...

"What!" San yelled while drying dishes in his little apron and dish gloves like he was a housewife.

"I'm sorry baby I know that you wanted me to yourself tomorrow but I really have to get the sweets done for the bake sale on Sunday." You said as you stood next to him in your nightgown, you had come home, ate dinner, and immediately got in the shower so you could get ready for tomorrow.

"This isn't fair Y/N! I have needs too, I haven't been inside you in almost a damn week, how do you expect me to live like this!" He dramatically pouted.

"Stop being dramatic San." You said folding your arms.

"I just... miss you, I work all day and by the time I come home we are both too tired to do anything besides cuddling which I love but... I miss connecting with you on that level, I know you have a lot going on but I can't help but feel this way..." He said as he took off his gloves and turned the sink off. You felt for San, you missed him too, especially in an intimate way and you had to give it to him he has really matured from when you first started dating because old San wouldn't have cared and would fuck you until you were too tired to do the bake sale.

"Aww baby I miss you too." You said as you cupped both sides of his sharp jaw, his hand held yours as his thumb rubbed the back of your hand and you both looked into each other's eyes. "I just have to do this one thing tomorrow then I'm all yours okay?" you pecked his still pouted lip.

"Okay, I love you." He said giving you a smirk to make sure you didn't worry about him.

"I love you more, let's go to bed, I have to get up early to go shopping."

You both went to bed too tired to do much of anything but San snuggled his face into your chest as you both drifted off to sleep. By the morning time you had left for the store to buy everything you needed for the bake sale. When you finally made it back home in the late afternoon, you texted Kyle your address and San was already gone, probably to spend the evening with his friends since he wanted to give you your space. Kyle arrived about an hour later, which was enough time for you to prep everything needed and start on the first batch of sweets. You walked to the front door to let him in.

"Hey, come in, glad you made it safe!" you smiled while stepping to the side to let him in.

"Hey, can't believe our kids have been friends this long and this is the first time I've been here, lovely home you got here Y/N." He said as he walked deeper into the house following you to the kitchen.

"Oh the credit isn't just mine my husband planned the renovations and I just decorated and furnished it."

"Well, the woman is who makes the home." He said winking at you.

That was kinda weird but whatever" you thought to yourself.

"Well I finished the first back and they are cooled down you wanna start boxing everything?"

“Sure thing” You and Kyle got to work baking and boxing, you didn’t even notice the time flying by until you looked up to see it was dark outside. You looked at your Apple Watch to see it was 8:36 pm you wondered for a moment where San was but then the cookie timer went off.

…

A cup slams down on the bar, shaking the remaining ice in it. “Another Jack and Coke please.” San asked the bartender.

“2 drinks in one night buddy? Something going on?” Wooyoung asked as he drank his beer.

“I miss my fucking wife Woo.” A red San replied as he received his next drink.

“Did she go somewhere? What happened to your weekend you had planned to-“

“Planned to fuck her brains out and romance her while my sweet princess was away? Unfortunately that won't be happening because of this dumb school bake sale she's doing for the PTA. Now I only get one day with her." San said as he dramatically dropped his head on the bar.

"Oh yeah I think my husband mentioned that to me, at least you've got tomorrow." Wooyoung said as he rubbed San's back to cheer him up, then San's phone rang, the name "Mrs. Choi" with lots of hearts and a photo of you and Anya flashed on his screen, he immediately answered.

"Hi my love, I miss you, need me to come home and eat-"

"Don't even finish that sentence San, I'm calling because I was letting you know that I'm probably going to have to go to the bake sale tomorrow." You said, San's face dropping.

"I thought you were only baking for the bake sale, isn't the volunteering covered for tomorrow?" San asked.

"Yeah that was originally the plan but Kyle thinks that I should come to help out just in case someone has questions about the sweets or-"

"Who is Kyle?" San questioned.

"Oh, He's Sana's ex-husband, you know Anya is their daughter's best friend, you probably never met since you both work so heavily." You replied.

"You're baking cookies with another man in my house Y/N?"

"Um- first of all this is our house." You replied somewhat taken aback by San's tone.

"I don't give a damn about that right now Y/N, my wife, baking with another man in my kitchen, in my house and now he's taking another one of My days with you?" You could hear San somewhat spiraling.

"Why do you keep saying my like-"

"Like what Y/N?? I keep saying my because it's true. The house is mine, the kitchen is mine, the stove you're using is mine, YOU ARE MINE!" He yelled at the end as he slammed his fist on the bar startling everyone in the vicinity.

"I'm not your fucking property San! I thought you grew out of this possessive thing!" You yelled back.

"I'll never grow out of thinking you belong to me and only me Y/N stop fucking playing with me." the sternness in his voice was sharp.

"Boy, who the fuck do you- you know what, whatever San, I'm glad Kyle asked me to come tomorrow, I'd rather spend tomorrow with him and everyone else than with you right now! And when you come home sleep on the damn couch." Before he could respond you ended the call, leaving San's eye to twitch, the argument combined with the lack of quality time was enough to send San into a coma but you saying you'd rather spend time with another man than him made him see red, he only came back down to earth when Wooyoung's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Calm down buddy, come back to earth." San took a few deep breaths and ran his finger through his hair while he groaned.

"I'm going crazy Woo." San said taking another drink from his cup.

"I don't want to contribute to it buuut, I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't tell you." Wooyoung said, San looked over at him confused.

"Tell me what?"

"Well, that guy, Kyle? On the PTA? He was married to Sana who's my husband's best friend so naturally he knows the details of their divorce and my husband told me everything..."

"Okay?"

"Okay so... Kyle was a cheater, like big time, but he is specifically known as a PTA home wrecker, he's slept with most of the moms on the PTA." Wooyoung and San's eyes met.

"What the hell are you saying Wooyoung?" San said with all seriousness immediately sobering up.

"I'm saying you need to get home before a serial wife fucker makes a move on your wife." Wooyoung finished his beer. "Go, I'll pay." San didn't waste any more time and left the bar.

....

You hung up from San knowing that the conversation went south but honestly, who does he think he is talking to you like that?

"Everything alright? Didn't mean to overhear the ending of that..." Kyle said walking back into the house from loading the baked goods into his car.

"Sorry about that... Yes, everything is fine just-"

"Marital problems? Trust me, I get it. I am flattered you said you would rather spend time with me..." He cleared his throat, coming off a bit shy. "and everyone else of course."

You chuckled at his shy response. "Yeah my husband's just being a brat is all, it's just been a while since me and him have spent time together so he's going crazy." You may have been oversharing but eh, so what.

"You know Y/N if you want someone to talk about it with I have some wine in the car I picked up on the way over." You shrugged your shoulders why not indulge him.

"Don't worry, I have a bottle in the fridge that's already open I'll get us some glasses." You walked over to the kitchen to grab glasses and then to pour you two a glass. Kyle followed you into the kitchen and smiled watching you pour the glasses then took the one you offered to him.

"To the bake sale." he said as you two clinked your glasses together then drank. "How long have you and your husband been married Y/N?" he asked.

"7 years, we got married then had Anya immediately after, my husband is very persistent about spending a lot of time with me, and around the time Anya was born he started his job so he rarely gets to spend a lot of time with us so I know it takes a toll on him." You said sipping more from your glass.

"I see, so he's a bit clingy then?"

A bit is putting it nicely, San is so clingy he got upset that he couldn't go to your bachelorette party and threw a tantrum. "Yeah you could say that, how long were you married ?" You asked.

"12 years, we were happy until we weren't anymore, then we only took care of our daughter together until we decided to call it quits after a fuck up on my end." He said as he swirled the wine in his glass.

"A fuck up?" you asked.

"Yeah, a fuck up, but I've learned from my mistakes, the next woman I'll cherish her, giving her my time and love from head to toe." He said as he sat the glass on the counter.

"You could have done that with your wife." You thought to yourself. "Well, I hope you find her soon." You half-heartedly smiled, he absolutely cheated and when you were done being mad at San you couldn't wait to tell him, you told him all your little PTA tea as if he cared, he just liked hearing you ramble.

"You know Y/N, I think I did find her." He said looking at you. "I need a woman that's attentive, who cares, who doesn't put her career over me, who isn't going to complain when I'm late for dinner, whole love me and my fault." He said as he stepped a bit closer to you.

"You did? A-and who might that be? She sounds like a catch!" You asked as you noticed him getting closer.

"You Y/N, I need a woman like you." He continued to step to you as you backed up.

"Oh- no, no you don't-"

"Yes, I do, a woman as gorgeous and understanding and caring as you are. You even said yourself that you would rather spend time with me." He backed you into a wall.

"Dude what? I was just talking shit, I'm married and happily at that." you looked at him with disgust.

"Marriage shouldn't stop you from finding your soulmate Y/N. Let me give you what he can't, let me give you what you need." he said as he grabbed your shoulders.

"And what does she need?" Kyle started to lean in then stopped when he heard the voice in the distance, he looked back and you looked over Kyle's shoulder to see your husband standing calmly however you could tell he was pissed. "Kyle right? I'm San, Y/Ns husband, now tell me what do you think my wife needs? Because I am in charge of handling all her needs and wants." Sans slit eyes stared directly into Kyle's eyes.

"I, uh" Kyle said stumbling over his words.

"Why don't you take your hands off my wife and get the fuck out of my house." The air was intense, Kyle released you from his grip and then cleared his throat again.

"I-I guess I need to head out then Y/N." You both awkwardly looked at each other then he walked toward the front door after hesitantly passing San.

"By the way Kyle, my wife won't be there tomorrow, she'll be preoccupied." San added before Kyle left the house, San followed him to the door. "And stay the fuck away from my wife." he said slamming the door and then locking it. San slowly walked over to you, for some reason you felt nervous, scared even, he didn't say a word but picked you up by the legs and threw you over his shoulders.

"S-San what are you doing? Put me down!" You squirmed in his arms as he walked up the stairs. He was not phased by your attempts to get out of his grasp but you still fought him. You had to stay mad at him for being kind of a jerk over the phone but damn it was hot how he just kicked Kyle out of the house. San reached your shared bedroom and dropped you on the bed, he stood there looking over your body.

"Strip." was all he said, you wanted to protest more but his tone was so demanding and assertive you had to listen, you sat up on your knees and removed your long bodycon maxi dress that had splotches of flour and chocolate from the baking, you were left on the bed wearing a lace black bra and panty set, his sharp eyes scanned over your body, it made you shy so you covered yourself with your arms.

"Don't be shy now baby, you sure weren't shy when you were telling me you weren't mine on the phone." San said.

"I didn't say I wasn't!" You argued.

San got closer then reached down to grab your chin and point your face up to him.

"Did I say to speak my love?" his voice was very dry and stern, he was serious, over the years San had agreed to get his clingy and possessive ways under control and keep his antics down to a minimum, however everyone has a breaking point. Addiction for some people was hard, going without something caused withdrawals and San was going through withdrawals after not touching you for almost a week. Tuesday he was good, no complaints or anything but he definitely needed you tomorrow. Wednesday he spent his break at work locking his office door to fuck his hand while he was on the phone with you while you talked about your day, but that wasn't enough. Thursday he thought about the many ways he was going to have you while he worked out at the gym, he was excited to get off early tomorrow so he could spend the day fucking you. Friday when you left for PTA he laid in bed aimlessly staring at the ceiling, the smell of you started to engulf him he closed his eyes and bit his lips thinking of how bad he needed to feel you, to hold you, to hear your cries of pleasure, he wanted you more than anything, then his eyes opened and he realized he was holding on of your pillows while thrusting into it. Saturday after another disappointment and him waking up to his face no longer comfortably nuzzled into your bosom he was just upset, to hell with the PTA at this point, usually he at least had a filter for his obsession with you, your adorable daughter Anya but with her being away for the weekend he couldn't do much, he even tried to call to get Anya from her friends and she said "No daddy I'm having fun." San wanted to snap and say he didn't care and go get her anyway but he vowed to not let his ways affect his precious baby girl.

Instead he spent the day with his best friend trying his best not to be anxious or angry but Wooyoung could always read him like a book. He could see the anger seething from San, the frustration and when he told San about Kyle he got nervous, San wouldn't kill him right? Wooyoung sent a prayer and moved on. When San arrived at the house he wondered if he should go in guns blazing and utilize all his pent-up frustration to teach a low life like Kyle a lesson but he didn't want you to see him like that. When he walked in to see Kyle's hands on what was his and to hear him saying he wanted to give you "What you need" oh San was not happy, not at all.

Now here you were sitting over San's lap while he spanked you, one smack after the other hitting harder than the last.

"Who do you belong to Y/N?" San said landing another strike on your ass, tears streamed down your face while you wore a dazed look on your face.

"You San, please." Your voice was hoarse from the yelping every time he would hit you again.

"Please what my love?" He asked halting his next strike.

"No more San, I can't... I can't take it."

"Yes my darling, I'm sorry if I went to far." San said as he helped you up then laid you on the bed, he wiped the tear sitting at the corner of your eye. "I just need people to know that you belong to me and only me, obviously the ring on your finger isn't enough." San started to kiss from your neck down the length of your body, he had already covered you in love bites and hickeys, you remember telling him "Black people can't get hickeys" and damn did he prove you wrong over the years. His lips reached your thighs, he wasted no time removing your panties then kissing around your slick-covered pussy.

"I need you and everyone else to understand that you are mine and only mine, only I can fill your needs." San said as lips peppered teasing kisses on your core.

"Of course I know that Saaah~" Your sentence was interrupted by his sudden attachment to your clit, he started to suck passionately like he wanted to hear you struggle.

"Do you though darling?"

"Yesss, fuck, yes!" You moaned out while your hands ran through his hair.

"I don't think you do, why were you willing to spend so much time with someone else then?" He held your slit in his mouth while flicking it with his tongue, you tried to squirm away but he held your thighs tightly.

"I told you nghh~ it was for the PTA-"

"I don't give a fuck about that damn PTA Y/N!" he slid his two fingers into your already pulsing hole, he started slow for a second then immediately started to finger fuck you faster, more pleading whimpers fell from your lips as you tried to close your legs.

"Fuck I'm going to cum San !" you yelled out, his pace never slowed down while he licked stripes up your clit while alternating between licking and sucking it.

"Cum for me my love, cover me in all of you." Almost like it was on command you came on San's face, your slick oozed down his chin while he continued to eat you out through your orgasm, however even when your body stopped spasming he didn't stop. You yelled out while trying to push his head away but he wouldn't move, the over-stimulation started to sting with the pleasure.

"San please." You cried out.

"All mine, I needed this so bad baby." He finally removed his face from your core to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. The sloppy exchange caused your cum to smear onto your face as well when he pulled back, he licked the remaining cum off your face. "You taste so good my love, my wife, I'm so glad you're all mine." you could hear the desperation in his voice.

"I'm... I'm sorry San." You said looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said and I'm sorry for not prioritizing our time together." the cutest little smile showed on his face before he pecked your lips once again.

"I just... I know you have a life Y/N but I can't help but feel like I need you." you pulled him down to kiss him, the kiss lingered a bit.

"I need you too Sannie, please take me, I feel so dirty knowing that man touched me."

"Yes my love, I'll make sure a low life like him never gets the chance to touch you again, I'll love you in my love so they know you only belong to me." San removed his clothes then climbed back on top of you and took off your bra. He bit his lips as he hovered over your naked form, he needed to take you now, he couldn't wait anymore. He pulled you down a bit more then turned you on your side, he put each of his legs on the side of your thigh that was on the bed while he held your other leg up with his thigh, the position looked a lot like scissoring? It confused you a bit as you never tried this position but before you could question him San slid his thick cock into your pleading walls making you moan softly for him. He sank deeper and deeper into you until you realized this was deeper than he normally could reach in missionary, you immediately felt the need to yell a string of curse words as you felt him in your gut.

When he heard your cry and watched your eyes roll he smirked watching you struggle, he slowly moved his hips back out then at a teasing rate pushed back into you, he repeated this motion a few times, watching you fidget and not knowing how to take him like you two hadn't fucked a million times. He pressed his hand on your lower stomach causing even more pleasure. "Do you feel me right here baby? Deep in your stomach?" you couldn't even properly respond as you whimpered at the feeling, it wasn't uncomfortable or painful, you just felt so stuffed full.

"San- Sannie, you're so deep." You huffed out as he sped up his pace a bit, his hips moving in a steady driving motion, you already started to feel dizzy from the pleasure, drunk off of your husband's dick going in and out of your sensitive cunt.

"I'm the only person who can be this deep inside of you, right baby?" He asked.

"Yeeess-" you answered but then you noticed San gradually picking up his pace more.

"Only me, only I can fuck you like this, only I can fuck you this deep." You realized he was going on a tangent, losing himself in the moment while his hips never stopped, he let your leg fall on his shoulders while he grabbed both sides of you and fucked you deeper and faster. "Mine, mine, all mine, only for me, this pussy can only be fucked by me, he doesn't have what you need, only I can give you what you need." San started to drive into you faster, your mouth was wide open but no sound was being pushed out while your eyes were fully in the back of your head, the ecstasy of how San was fucking was amazing enough but you had to admit there was a guilty pleasure behind his words of him claiming you like his territory.

As San continued to fuck you like his own personal fuck toy you started to feel your orgasm rushing forward, your walls contracting around his length causing him to drop his head back as the beads of sweat fell from his forehead and he groaned. "Sannie I'm about to cum again please, hold me." San looked at you as you twisted your body a bit to stretch your arms out to embrace him. He quickly pulled out to reposition you in missionary then put himself back inside of you. He leaned down to welcome your embrace while his hips bucked into you quickly.

You cupped San's face and looked him in his blown out eyes. "I love you so much San, I'm yours forever, and only yours." you said between trying to stay sane as he fucked you.

"Forever baby, only mine, I love you." connected your lips as you both tried to kiss wholesomely but with the pace of him fucking you and your moans going directly into his mouth it just turned sloppy. The kiss with San driving into you made you wrap your legs around him while he started to cum deep inside you, the rush of his hot cum sending you into a frenzy as your orgasm followed shortly after. San removed his lips from yours and held his still-leaking cock inside you, he looked at your fucked out face and pecked your lips a few times.

"I'm sorry if I lost myself for a bit Y/N" San said as he slowly dropped his body to lie on top of you. You smiled at him then peppered his sweaty face with kisses.

"It's okay Sannie, I love it when you tell me I'm yours." You smiled at each other again and decided it was time to get cleaned up and go to bed after a long night.

...

The next morning was peaceful, Anya had returned from her friend's house and sat in her daddy's lap as he forced her to watch anime with him, Anya grew to love it after a few sessions.

"Daddy this episode is so good! We should ask Mommy to join us." She looked back and said.

"Mommy is too far behind to watch with us." San replied

"Hey, I'm trying my best!" You yelled from the kitchen as you were making lunch.

"But you're right Anya we need a third person to watch with, how about Mommy and Daddy give you a sibling?" San smiled while your face heated up and Anya cheered, loving the idea of being a big sister.

"San!"

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #atz smut #writenbypyramidofstars #san smut #choi san smut #ateez san smut #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez x black reader #ateez x reader #san x black reader #choi san x black reader #san angst #choi san fluff #san fluff #choi san angst

387 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 7 months

Text

Breathless

Summary: Dream a little dream…or shit…

Summary: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

Warnings: angst, language, Bucky being an awful boss (mentioned), enemies to lovers, tension, daydreams, secret crush, fear of flying (implied)

Words: 1440+

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C5: Remote control

Square filled for @sebastianstanbingo: Square 10: Sexual frustration

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: G 4: “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Square filled for @marvelfluffbingo (expired): Square 19: office au

Part 1

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Miss Y/N to my office,” Bucky barks. “I think we should talk about a few things…”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Barnes?” You are still a little shaken from the naughty dream you woke from moments ago and struggle to look him in the eyes. You only pray you didn’t talk in your sleep.

“I need you to come with me,” he casually says. “Tomorrow. On a business trip.”

“Tomorrow?” You splutter. “But…I didn’t pack, and I don’t know where we are going. Why do you tell me about this so late?”

“It’s a case of emergency. Stark wants to do business with one of my business associates. I need you there to distract him so I can make the deal with Barton.”

“You want me to distract Tony Stark? How? Do you want me to give him a lap dance or more?” while you cross your arms over your chest, and glare at your boss, the man himself still looks proud of his idea.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re not too bad to look at and you are good at making conversation. I want you to go home, pack a few things, and meet me at the airport at 7 o'clock sharp,” he demands. “Don’t run late.”

“I never ran late in all the years I’m working for you. But… tomorrow is my day off! I had had plans, and you just tell me I must go on a business trip.”

“You can take a day off after any other day, Ms. Y/L/N. I need you and I won’t ask again.”

You huff. He didn’t ask but demanded your obedience. Mr. Barnes doesn’t understand your irritation or that you’re angry at him. In his opinion, he gives you the perfect opportunity to prove your worth as his assistant.

“7 o'clock sharp, no discussion,” he snaps at you. “You are my assistant and will do as told. I need you at the airport tomorrow morning.”

It’s situations like this leaving you helpless and struggling. You should tell him, no, and to fuck off. But this would mean losing your job. Mr. Barnes is not being reasonable, and he knows it.

You’re fuming but can’t do shit about it. So, once again, you give in to someone else’s demands and swallow the words you’ve got on the tip of your tongue.

“Fine.” You turn around to storm out of Mr. Barnes’ office. If you stay for longer, you’ll slap the smug grin off his handsome face.

Morning came much too soon. You’re in the worst mood ever, and tired as fuck. On top of all, you dreamed of the smug fucker named James Buchanan Barnes again.

This time, he fucked you on top of the printer and plastered the copies of your ass all over the office. He was into degrading you in your dreams and it made you horny as hell. Sadly, you didn't have the time to take care of the problem. Now you are tired, cranky, and frustrated because you didn't get off.

“You made it in time, a progress,” Mr. Barnes dares to say. In the four years you’re working for him, you only once didn’t make it in time.

“I’m always on time.” Your boss ignores you sassed back. “So, where are we going? I still need to get my ticket.”

“What are you wearing?” Mr. Barnes shoves his sunglasses down his nose, looking you up and down. He almost looks offended by your styling. “Are you wearing sweatpants and a Hello Kitty t-shirt? Where are your shoes?”

“It’s casual Friday, Mr. Barnes,” you feign ignorance. “I didn’t know we’ve got a dress code for a flight. I don’t think people in economy class will judge my choice of clothing. I want to be at least comfortable if I’m stuck in an airplane with two people for hours. And I got shoes on. Flip-lops.”

“Economy class?” He takes his sunglasses off. “I hate to disappoint you, by you are going to enjoy only my presence. I already got your ticket.” Mr. Barnes smirks. “I wonder if people in the first class will like your outfit.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Mr. Barnes mutters. You’re always nervous before take-off and can't sit still. You are gripping your remote control tightly with your right hand and press it to your chest. “Why in the world did you bring a remote control?”

He watches you stare down at your feet. “It calms me. When I got scared at night, I grabbed something to hold tight onto. If it happens now, I use the remote control from the TV in my bedroom.”

“Hmm…interesting,” oddly, his features soften, and he grabs your left hand. “If you are scared, squeeze my hand. It’s better than the remote control.”

“I didn’t know you can be nice too.” You glance at your boss. “Thank you.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he replies sharply as if you offended him with your words. “In my world, you must be hard and strict. I can’t attend a business trip in flip-flops and a Hello Kitty shirt.”

You feel insecure out of a sudden. At the airport, you felt self-confident, but now, you feel like a fool. “I wanted to be comfortable. I didn’t know I’d end up in the first class.”

Mr. Barnes doesn’t reply. He waits for the take-off and thinks of the deal he wants to seal with Barton. “You should try to get some sleep after the take-off and redress at the hotel. We don’t have much time until the first meeting.”

“Okay,” you focus on breathing, and the warm hand holding yours. Your boss can be an ass, but right now he grounds you and helps you not to be scared anymore.

“Mr. Barton,” you politely shake Clint Barton’s hand. He smiles in return and asks you about your flight. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he holds your hand a little too long for Mr. Barnes’ liking. Your boss sneers, and he squares his jaw when you giggle at something Clint said.

“Clint, we should get going. I have a few more meetings this afternoon. Can we talk about the deal now, or not?” You quirk a brow at your boss.

“Shall we, Ms. Y/L/N,” Clint smirks at your boss. “We don’t want Bucky to get impatient, right?”

“Right,” you nod. “We should talk about the deal and the upcoming contract. I checked on the numbers, and you’ll see that Barnes Inc. is the perfect partner.”

Mr. Barnes dips his head to look at you. He looks impressed and nods his head in approval.

“Well said, Ms. Y/L/N.”

The meeting dragged on. Your boss and Clint talked about every single detail while you tried to keep up with them and take notes. Or at least look interested when they started talking about cars, and investments.

While they sealed the deal of the century, their words not yours, you wondered why Tony Stark didn’t show.

Now that you think about it, neither your boss nor Mr. Barton mentioned Tony Stark.

“Perfect,” your boss exclaims. He and Mr. Barton shake hands, as you are still thinking about the things Mr. Barnes told you. “Ms. Y/L/N, are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

��We earned dinner, didn’t we?” Mr. Barnes asks, taking you by surprise. He furrows his brows as you don’t answer immediately. “Italian, Indian, or Asian. What do you want to eat?”

“Okay,” your heart flutters when he holds out his hand to take the iPad and folder out of your hands. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

He grins. “Remember, you asked for this…”

“A hot dog,” you giggle. “I thought you wanted to dine tonight, boss.” You don’t mind your boss’s choice. You love a good hotdog.

“Y/N, that’s the best hotdog in the world. And for tonight, call me Bucky. We are officially off duty and got the deal done,” he grins before taking a huge bite of the hotdog. He smears mustard all over his face, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got something…wait,” you use the napkin to clean his face, making things worse as you smear the mustard all over his cheek. “Sorry…let me get a tissue.”

“Not bad, but there are better ways to clean my lips…” Your heart beats out of your chest when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. “You didn’t think I brought you here to flirt with Stark, right?”

“What? I-“You pinch your arm to check if you are dreaming again. “What?”

“Doll, I think we should talk about a few things after we finished the hot dog…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2023 #sebastianstanbingo #bucky barnes x reader #ceo!bucky barnes x reader #office au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #kinktober vs flufftober 2023

323 notes · View notes

eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

fluffy ending (as if)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: soft n sweet ending to part three of as if ♥️

pairing: bully!mean!perv!and soft!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 568 words

content/warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18), brief angst (? mention of an argument), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), teasing. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: uhm they’re so gross n cute…here you go!

part one - part two - start of part three

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day. It ended up out in the open during an argument a few months down the line after all your perverted, puppy love had its time to shine. At the start, he was in bitter denial no matter what you said that you had simply been surprised. Nervous. You were nervous. The idea of him possibly paying attention to you had just made you… shy. He wouldn’t have tried to ask you out at first anyways, considering at the time he was on the verge of turning 18 and you 16. And, had he known sooner, he still wouldn’t have been angelic by any means in your 18th year, but maybe he wouldn’t have been quite as excessive…?

When he admitted that in the cooldown of your fight, you were sheepish in your confession that you wouldn’t have wanted him to act all that differently—how he still acted when he wanted to turn you on. You loved the play. The teasing, the crude displays of his twisted affections because it matched you perfectly. It certainly wasn’t typical—then again, when was Eddie ever searching for typical—but you two found a way to make it better. After he made you upset again just a few weeks after that afternoon in his van, you two decided on a code word. Something you could blurt out or write on a piece of paper when you were too overwhelmed for the games, and he showed you an amount of respect and comfort every time in a way that still shocks you to this day.

So yes, Eddie Munson was still a bit of a bully when he wanted you wanted him to be. He still fucked you until you cried. He still made you cockwarm him when you were trying to focus on something. (Sometimes even just in the morning when you needed to feel him but both of you were too tired for sex.) He still flipped up your skirt at lunch, as if he hadn’t already seen what pair of panties you slid on that morning. He still left you filthy notes. He even shoved you against your locker… well… just to kiss you in between classes. He was still mean, he still made you pout, but only in a way that was agreed upon and could always be settled by not forgetting that damn kiss at the end of the day.

You both worked somehow, much to the chagrin of everyone around you. You two were inseparable and so… so disgusting to witness. So insatiable. So weird. The two of you were truly saccharine in your own way. And Eddie never saw it coming. If someone told him at the start of his (third) senior year that soon enough you’d be the one to make him grow soft; teach him how to be gentle; give him a reason to want to stay after the highs have settled; encourage him to fight that urge to deflect; make him want to stay up just to watch the way you breathed as you slept; and be the one to show him how to live (and live happily) with being completely and utterly lovesick… If someone told him any of that. Well… he would’ve scoffed out a rather simple response.

Yeah. As if.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #stranger things imagine #as if eddiessluttywaist #as if part 3 #as if part 3 eddiessluttywaist #as if fluff

687 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

Do you have any angsty headcannons of Damian Wayne

Sometimes I wonder if he has any insecurities about being the youngest and the fact that he's fifth (sixth? seventh?) in a long line of batkids who have already done pretty much anything he can think of. Blowing up the League of Assassins? Tim did that. Starting a superhero team? Sure, Damian's done that, but it's kinda derivative of his siblings'. Dying? That's literally Jason's whole schtick. With older siblings, he's gonna invariably end up with some hand-me-downs and it's a lot harder to carve his own unique identity.

He's over the whole "blood son" thing, but he can't help but feel a little jealous when Bruce talks so fondly about the others' Robin days, meanwhile Damian is still referred to as "having potential" and needing to work on this or that. It's like when your siblings have a bunch of trophies and you know you're just as capable, but you haven't been given the chance.

As Robin, everything he did was measured up against his siblings. Dick stuck the landing better. Tim was more careful with evidence. Steph decoded the riddle faster. Jason could take on twice as many goons. Though Damian tries to do things his own way, Robin never feels like something that's fully his.

Even though the Waynes can buy ten of everything, he still ends up with some of his siblings' stuff—Dick's sweatshirt, Jason's books, Tim's old camera. Damian can try and pretend they belong to him, but then he comes across a scribble in the margins or an old picture of Young Justice and it's a reminder that he's still tethered to the people who came before him.

And maybe that's why he still picks fights and gives people a hard time. At his age, he'll do anything it takes to stand out so someone notices him, and being difficult accomplishes that. As an immediate result, he gains individuality by being known as the Demon Brat. And because he gets that instant gratification, he keeps doing it over and over.

It's no secret that he and Tim aren't always on good terms. I think part of it has to do with Tim being the next closest predecessor and Damian has an easier time picking him apart compared to facing off against Dick or Jason. Because of that, though, I think Tim would be the first to pick up on why Damian is this way.

Do they communicate about it? Mmm not yet. This is the most emotionally stunted family we're talking about, so instead of indulging Damian's behavior, Tim flat-out ignores it and it's one of those instances where ignoring works because Damian stops, at least with him.

But then he moves on to Steph, but her tolerance is way lower than Tim's and she lets Damian know that. She straight-up tells him, "Hey, quit being obnoxious. It works now because people are going easy on you, but one day someone's gonna screw you up and you won't have a Batman to run to."

He doesn't really believe her because 1) he was never one to care what strangers think about him and 2) getting the job done was more important than being liked to him.

Cut to school being back in session. Damian mainly keeps to himself—partly to lay low, partly because he never got along with other kids before and didn't see the point in trying again. His grades are stellar and for the first month or so, teachers praise him all around for being a model student.

But that eventually slows down as his straight-A's and thesis-sounding papers become routine—it's his norm, and teachers stop pointing it out as something remarkable.

And just like before: when being Robin stops working, be the Demon Brat.

He keeps his grades up, but the teachers start sending emails home about things like chewing gum and using his phone in class. Every time, Bruce just reminds him to behave.

One time Bruce offhandedly mentions how Jason was a well-behaved student and Damian can't help but think, "That's the point. I'm not Jason."

The emails pile up, now with new problems like extended bathroom breaks, breaking the dress code, and even one incident where he forged himself a note to get out of class early.

But the thing that lands him in detention is a snide comment to the wrong kid that spirals into a schoolyard brawl. And even though Damian pulls his punches, it still ends in bruises and a bloody nose, and it takes two teachers and the football coach to break it up.

And just his luck, Dick's in Bludhaven, Alfred has a doctor's appointment, Tim and Bruce are at a business meeting, and Jason wants to stay out of this, so guess who's there to pick him up at the end of the afternoon.

Steph doesn't beat around the bush. Her first response is, "What did I tell you?" And it pisses him off because she's right.

That evening, they go on a long drive where she eventually gets an explanation out of him. And she gets him, 100%. She tells him how she had big shoes to fill as Batgirl and how she always compared herself to Cass and Babs.

Then she says: "Robin isn't a personality you grow into or break out of. It's just a costume. Who you are underneath is who Robin becomes."

For good measure though, she goes to Bruce later like, "Hey, do you need a laxative? 'Cause you're so emotionally constipated that you forgot your son is his own person, not a work in progress or extension of someone else." Then she swipes his credit card and takes Damian to the arcade to make him feel better since he still has a week's worth of detention plus Alfred giving him double the chores.

After that, people will still occasionally slip up, but when Dick ruffles his hair and says they'll ace a mission "the Damian way," it's reason enough to believe that things are looking up.

553 notes · View notes

sapphicvqmpires · 1 year

Text

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ i miss you there (pt.1)

Pairing - shuri/black fem! reader

Word Count - 2k

Contains - smut (18+), choking, cunnilingus, fingering, reader is lowkey a cry baby, annoyed but understanding shuri, some fluff, some hurt

Keywords - nkosazana (princess)

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - Shuri drops what she’s doing and sighs in annoyance. She rolls her eyes, transparent with her frustration as she walks over to you. Your stomach twists at the sight of her because, even though you’re angry and touch deprived, she still looks so damn good in her black compression shirt and silver chain. She holds the back of your head as she gently brings you into her chest, resting her chin on the top of your head. “I just miss you,” you whine into her

Tags - @abenomeiiii @pinkwright @zayswriting @shuriszn @shurislover @mermaidchansons

Writer Note: I definitely drew inspiration from @mermaidchansons “Touch Me” fic, so shoutout to them! This is gonna be 2 parts, this is just part 1. I feel like I didn’t proof read this enough, so sorry if there’s any mistakes. Also, ntm on my Xhosa, I got it from Google lollll

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You look down at your phone and you feel gutted at the *seen* underneath the text you left Shuri. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you opened your heart to her. She warned you numerous times before you started dating that being with her would not be easy. She was busy, and even though she set up her own lab away from Wakanda to be closer to you, it still seemed like she was miles away.

You sent her the text 2 hours ago, asking if you guys could facetime tonight, only to be left on *seen*. You pouted, feeling neglected and unwanted. It seemed like she wasn't even trying to pay attention to you. Not to mention she hasn’t touched you in a fair amount of time, besides the stolen kisses you take from her every chance you get. You sit on your bed, heavily glaring at your unanswered text message.

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself. “If she don’t wanna answer my damn texts, I’ll go bother her then.”

Shuri’s lab is not a far drive from your guys’ apartment, but it still gives you too much time to think. You pulled up, and punched in the code that Shuri gave you. The door opens, and there she is. She’s concentrated like her life depended on it, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it probably did. You almost forget that you’re mad, lost in how hot she is. You cherish the sight of her for a second, adoring the way her brows pulled together as she fixates herself on her work. You love the way her perfectly coiled curls rest on her forehead, complimenting her almond shaped eyes, evident in desperate need of sleep. She’s beautiful.

“Nkosazana, what are you doing here? It’s late. Don’t you have an early morning class tomorrow?” Shuri says, still deep into whatever she’s doing, barely even looking at you.

Your face grows hot in frustration. “You didn’t answer my text.”

“Uxolo (Sorry). I was busy.”

“A simple ‘Sorry baby, I can’t. I’ll be busy’ text would suffice,” you snap, trying to keep your cool.

Shuri drops what she’s doing and sighs in annoyance. She rolls her eyes, transparent with her frustration as she walks over to you. Your stomach twists at the sight of her because, even though you’re angry and touch deprived, she still looks so damn good in her black compression shirt and silver chain. She holds the back of your head as she gently brings you into her chest, resting her chin on the top of your head.

“I just miss you,” you whine into her. She kisses the top of your head, caressing your box braids right before she goes back to her desk to continue her work. You follow her, leaning your chin onto her shoulder as you hover over her and her work.

“Y/n, I told you I would be busy these next couple of weeks, did I not? Wakanda needs me right now…”

You stay silent with no means to argue with her on that. You knew she was right.

“I’m going to Wakanda for about a week or so,” Shuri says, breaking the silence.

“What?? When??”

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow, nkosazana. Actually in a couple hours probably. Okoye will be here before the sun rises. But I’ll be back before you know it and I promise you’ll have all my attention.” Shuri turns to face you, noticing the clear glaze building up in your eyes. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up.”

Shuri sighs, now completely facing you as you stand in between her legs. She takes your hands in hers. “Y/n, I TOLD you. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. I love you baby, and I miss you, for real. But I absolutely need to get this done. Now please stop crying. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“You did this,” you mellow.

“Nkosazana…please.” Shuri holds your hand and brushes her lips against your knuckles. You take a second to bask in this moment, grasping onto every butterfly that flutters inside you. You don’t know when you’ll feel like this again.

“Ndiyakuthandana (I love you),” she finally says.

“I love you too…but I miss you.”

Shuri looks up at you, and you notice a snap in her eyes as they shift back into her frustration. She glides her palms on her face and exhales heavily as she lifts herself off the chair, motioning you to sit. “Here…sit down.”

You look at her in confusion, but you do as she says. Shuri gets down on her knees, spreading you open just a bit. The warm liquid forming in between your legs makes you understand completely what Shuri wants. What you both want. She begins to lift your skirt to your hips, intentionally running her hands up your thighs on the way up. Her eyes settle on the dark, damp spot seeping through the fabric of your panties.

“Oh, you miss me alright,” she says, her voice low and raspy.

She brings her lips to yours, sucking and biting on your bottom lip.

“Shuri…I--”

“Ssshh, baby. I’m right here. Be patient.”

She dips her head back down and places kisses on your inner thighs, biting down a bit. The heat in your stomach grows, and you let out a moan as Shuri begins playing with your clit over your panties. Her slender fingers make slow and painful strokes over the material, and you're throbbing underneath. She takes her thumb and applies more pleasure to your clit, and your jaw drops.

“Sh--Shuri,” you moan.

“Yeah baby, just like that. Disrupt me while I’m working one more time, and so help me Bast…”

She almost aggressively removes your panties, sliding them all the way down your thighs, carelessly chugging them to the side. She spreads you open wholly, her gaze fixated on your glazed pussy.

“Fuck, I miss you.”

“Shuri, please baby. Enough with teasing, put your mouth on me already.”

A crooked smile creeps on her lips as she kisses you from your ankles all the way up to your inner thigh. She takes one lap in between your slit experimentally, circling her tongue around your clit. You drive your hips forward, desperate for more pressure, but Shuri holds your hips in place, forcing you to keep still. She takes your thighs and rests them on her shoulders, fully submerging herself into your dripping cunt. She eats mercilessly, taking her tongue to places you almost forgot you had.

“Shuri I…I can’t.” You’re throbbing so much, it almost hurts. Every move she makes in between your pussy lips pushes you closer to ecstasy. She lifts her face off for a few seconds, and it’s the worst few seconds of your week.

“Stand up,” she demands, her voice laced with desire. You comply as she picks you up, her hands firm around your ass. Your pussy is pressed against her lower abdomen, dripping against her. You lightly grind against her, hoping to get some relief. Shuri feels it and chuckles at the sight of how desperate you are. “Nyamezela sithandwa sam, ndizakuhoya (Be patient my love, I’ll take care of you).”

You have no idea what she’s saying but you don’t even care. You just want her to finish what she started. Shuri places you on her desk. Goosebumps appear on your skin as you come in contact with the coolness of her workspace. She pushes your long braids to the back.

“You miss me?”

“Yeah,” you say through your heaving chest.

“Then spread open for me, y/n. Let me inside that pretty pussy.”

You comply without question. Your dark pussy gleamed with your slick, swollen from Shuri’s tongue work. Shuri takes 2 digits, and slides them into your plush walls, receiving lustful moans coming from the back of your throat. She pumps in and out, taking no time to hammer into you.

“This is what you get for complaining all the time.”

“Shuri…I-”

“You what, baby? What do you need now?” She continues to slam her fingers into you, your walls closing in, gripping onto her like a leech. Shuri loves the way your pussy caresses her fingers. She can feel the way you pulse against her.

“I wanna cum,” you moan. You submit to the white hot feeling forming in your gut. Shuri curls her fingers just right, hitting your tender spot. You begin to moan her name unapologetically, as she takes your clit with her thumb. She removes her fingers, and uses them to spread your lips open, gazing at the wet mess she created.

“Bast y/n, you should see what you look like. So pretty and swollen.”

You whimper at the sight of her admiring your wet cunt. You could feel your orgasm trying to force its way through but you needed her back inside to finish.

“Shuri baby, I’m so close, please.”

She smiles wickedly as she grabs your throat. She continues to finger fuck you while she’s choking you, leaving you just enough air to cry her name out. You gasp but you absolutely do not want her to stop. You loved when she placed her tattooed hand around your throat. You clutch the edge of her desk, thrusting your hips forward.

“Stop moving, nkosazana, I’ll get you there.” She pumps into you hard, curling and spreading her fingers inside you like butter. You can feel your inner walls twitch with every thrust she gives you. The room goes silent for a second, with nothing but the sound of your helpless moans and your wet cunt.

“You hear that, baby? That’s my pretty pussy making all that sound. Bast, you’re soaking wet.”

Shuri’s voice seeps into your skin as the room goes hazy. Her hand is still tight around your throat and you gasp her name in praise. You surrender to your orgasm and it feels like ecstasy coursing between your thighs. The walls inside you are contracting to the rhythm of your girlfriend's fingers. Her touch was heaven. Oh how you missed her.

She slowly pulls out, your slick tugging with her fingers as she sucks her digits dry.

“Umnandi (You’re delicious).”

Your pussy clenches at the sound of her speaking Xhosa as you climb back down from your blissful high. Shuri helps pull your skirt back down, with no attempt to retrieve your panties that have been tossed onto the floor earlier. She grabs you by the throat once more and brings your face closer to hers, a soft moan escaping your lips from the pressure. A twisted smile appears on her face as she brings herself to your ear.

“Be patient with me when I’m working, nkosazana or I swear you’ll be so swollen, you won't be able to walk.”

There’s a pulse in your pussy, and you give her those “innocent” eyes you know drives her mad. “You promise?”

Shuri balls her fist in sexual frustration. She inhales and exhales slowly. “Mhmm.”

She lets go of you, bringing your braids to the front, admiring the way they gently caress your face.

“Umhle kakhulu, sithandwa sam (You’re so beautiful, my love),” she says as she plants a kiss on your forehead before she begins to pack up her work for the night. You watch the way she carefully places her gadgets and tools away, in awe.

“What are you looking at?”

“You. You’re beautiful.”

Shuri smiles at you, giving out a breathless laugh. You exchange goodnight kisses and hugs and you swear you almost don’t let go.

“I’m leaving for a week, not a year. You’ll be fine.”

“I know.”

Shuri reassures that she’ll keep in contact with you when she’s gone the best that she can. You roll your eyes a bit, but take her word for it. You give her one last kiss before you take off. The car ride is silent as you replay Shuri’s touch in your mind over and over again. You swear you can still feel her inside you, a lingering sensation only she gave you. You can’t wait to piss her off again. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

#shuri x you #shuri fanfiction #shuri x y/n #shuri smut #smut #wlw smut #fluff #sub!y/n #shuri udaku #shuri black panther

516 notes · View notes

s0lam33y · 9 months

Text

shuriri hcs [new and updated!]

side note: these aren’t the same HCS that I uploaded on my old acc. Some may be similiar but anyway hope it’s obvious that I did better on these. enjoy them and reblogs/feedback is always welcome.

Timeline: about two years after the bpwf film.

Shuri’s convinced that they need a theme song when they go on missions but they have opposite music taste.

Shuri always makes corny ass vine references and it makes Riri cringe.

“Shuri, quit talkin’.”

Shuri practically lives in Riri’s dorm. She’s there so often that Riri kinda expects it.

Shuri cannnnot stand when Riri brings up the whole bulls game situation because she ends up fighting for her life.

Shuri loves to rest her chin on Riri’s head, if not her head then her shoulder.

Riri is the big spoon, all the time. Rarely, does she ever get spooned.

They’ve been told that they remind the lab staff of an old sassy couple because they always throw fake shade at each other.

Riri always up on herrrrrr, but shuri doesn’t mind at all.

Once they decided to play fight and Shuri forgot about her panther strength…Riri ended up with a bruise on her thigh.

Riri did not know how to work her kimoyo beads at first and ended up calling a council meeting once my accident.

Their height difference. That’s it.

they always some how matching? Not necessarily color coded but they always for some sort of matching accessories or shoes.

Shuri has no comebacks…at least not when needs them so she just agrees with what Riri says.

“Who’s the man in the relationship?”

“Your mother.”

“What she said.”

Riri asks dumbass questions in the middle of the night.

“You’d still fuck with me If I was a butterfly right?”

“No.”

Riri taught shuri how to drive an actual car on the road and they damn near crashed Riri’s red barracuda.

Shuri’s always braiding her hair.

“Would you hold still?”

“Braid less tight, then maybe I would.”

when they go out together, Shuri’s social battery runs out so quick because she’s much rather be home.

When they go shopping, Shuri’s always carrying Riri’s bags.

“You the one with super strength not me.”

Shuri sleeps 60 percent of the time so when they hang out, half of it consists of naps and it rubs off on Riri.

Shuri always making some smartass comment about Riri’s height.

“I think ironheart would be more of a success if she was taller.”

“Literally fuck off.”

Riri is genuinely unhinged because she knows how fine Shuri is.

“Drop yo drawls, bruh.”

“Riri, we’re in a council meeting.”

“They can watch-“

“You can never be serious.”

“I’m being so serious.”

Shuri cannot take a compliment for some reason. Every time Riri says something, she gets kinda shy.

Riri ‘borrows’ Shuri’s clothes.

“Yo, can I get that hoodie?”

“What-“

“I’ll give it back.”

“I know you won’t, but here….”

Shuri is so petty when it comes to her lab so Riri has her own area.

Shuri gets her mad on purpose to hear that Chicago accent. Trust she gets it.

Shuri’s a morning person and ends up having to drag Riri out of bed every single morning.

“Just get up.”

“M’coming.”

“The alarm went off an hour ago.”

Both of them love them some chains.

Riri’s unhinged, we know this but so is Shuri, just more subtly.

“We got five minutes till your next class starts.”

“Girl….”

“I’m just saying, I felt like it was worth mentioning.”

“I missed a week of school cuz of you, TWO YEARS AGO….and I need that 4.0 GPA, I’m goin to class.”

Shuri cannot stay still when she sleeps and it pisses Riri off so bad but she doesn’t say anything about it. She’s also a blanket hog so Riri has no choice but to cuddle with her.

They argue over things that don’t really need to be argued over.

“For the last time…Chicago Pizza isn’t the best.”

“What’d you just say?”

…

“Chicago was not Micheal’s best song, you’re just saying that because you’re from Chicago.”

“Shuri, i want to have a peaceful evening.”

Never let them play Uno together because it ends up in some sort of argument.

“You only took two, take four-“

“I’m not taking four cards.”

“Fuck you mean, I put down a plus four.”

“Take it back, I’m not taking four cards, Rianna.”

The same way Riri takes Shuri’s clothes, the same thing happens with Riri.

“Is that my MIT sweatshirt?”

“No.”

“….”

“It’s comfortable.”

“So it’s my sweatshirt?”

“I didn’t say that.”

As previously stated, Riri is UNHINGED…so trust that her comments make everyone turn around sometimes especially when Shuri’s done with training.

“And the jog was quite nice- are you paying attention?”

“Mhm mhm, y’all do ab workouts too?”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know.”

“What was the last thing I said?”

“….”

Shuri hates hanging up the phone. She sleeps on the phone, eats on the phone and sometimes they just sit in silence.

#shuri udaku #riri williams #black panther #shuriri #shuri x riri #mmcanons

172 notes · View notes

thirteenemeraldcats · 3 months

Note

in one of your tags you mentioned-

'one of the things that gets chatted about A LOT in teaching is meeting students at their point of need- which ted does NOT do with jamie'

I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this! Both in terms of what that concept entails, and also what you think Jamie's point of need was at the time versus what Ted saw the situation needing

(You have excellent tags btw, don't know if anyone's mentioned that)

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS THAT I LOVE THAT YOU'D LOVE TO HEAR!

(I have more thoughts than I anticipated, this got errr, long. Whoops)

(potentially necessary/relevant background here is I am a high school teacher 👋)

Okie dokie, so, one of the principles of best practice in teaching is the idea I tag-rambled above; meet both the individual students and collective class at their point of need. Essentially this means practising differentiation in teaching and adjusting how content/ideas are communicated to students based on who they are as learners and people. Particularly if a student is performing outside the 'average' (either exceeding or still developing), this means adjusting to their needs by (among other things) curating differentiated resources and adapting delivery style. Differentiation is especially important in an all-abilities classroom, unfortunately public education is perpetually underfunded and overcrowded so everyone's just out here doing their best (the decent people of the world at least). BUT! WHILE I'M ON IT! SPEAKING OF THE THINGS I'VE TAG RAMBLED, the education system's (global) inability to adequately differentiate for students of different-abilities, particularly students with ADHD, ASD and Dyslexia, is perhaps the greatest failing of the whole dang thing and if anyone who ever stumbles across this is neuro-divergent and feels like they were a bad student or couldn't 'keep up' in mainstream education- THAT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. You don't have to break yourself to 'fit', school is MEANT to bend for you. (Particularly when you're young, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG)

ANYWAY, the fictional football of it all!

We don't see a lot of Ted actually coaching in this show (stick with me). The scenes in which he 'coaches' are typically him and various other coaching staff standing on the sidelines while the team skirmishes or occasionally runs drills, so me saying Ted doesn't differentiate is more based around his patented Ted-talks. NOW, Ted PROBABLY knows the team fairly well as individuals, particularly in season 2 and 3, purely by having spent quite a lot of time with them, despite this the only times we really see him 'adjust' his style with the team are ironically season 1 (examples include conferencing Jamie and Roy in 1x04 For The Children, and allowing/facilitating Nate's speech in 1x07 Make Rebecca Great Again). The moment that always sticks out to me as most significant is when he goes and seeks out Keeley's advice on how to get through to Jamie in 1x02 Biscuits.

Side note: I will be forever obsessed with Keeley jumping straight from 'blowjobs' to one of the four operant conditioning techniques (positive reinforcement) when asked about this. That woman is a very fascinating puzzle of a person.

Ted recognises that his typical perpetual-optimism-style isn't cracking the Jamie-Tartt-nut and seeks out a different opinion. This kind of collaboration and whole-system approach is key in teaching too, either by tapping the knowledge-well of a student's broader school context or the difficult-to-crack student's parents.

SO, having gotten the Jamie-Tartt-cheat-code from Keeley he DOES meet Jamie at his point of need, speaks clearly to him and communicates what he needs from him. AND IT WORKS! Temporarily! During the conversation between the two in Ted's office we see Jamie engage, he even practises self-reflection! Granted it's about his left foot cross, but still! The nut is cracked.

Jamie even maintains the perspective Ted has taught him for about two seconds while talking to Trent, until Jamie's other (definitely not positively-reinforced) behaviours rear up and he reverts to what James others have taught him.

On the other hand.

Multiple times throughout the show we see Jamie be visibly or verbally confused by Ted's communication style. Ted often talks in meandering metaphors that Jamie doesn't seem to be able to follow. We verbally hear him state 'Why doesn't he just say that then, do you know what I mean?' in 2x07 Headspace after Beard has to translate Ted's 'peas and carrots/beefchunks' analogy to 'starters and reserves'. Then there's the infamous 'What the fuck are Denver Broncos?' from 3x09 La Locker Room Aux Folles. The only notable time we really see Jamie 'get' one of these metaphors is the sewer-system-tunnels from 3x01 Smells Like Mean Spirit.

(His understanding of that specific metaphor, along with his use of the magnets to demonstrate total football in 3x07 The Strings That Bind, and a Watsonian-perspective of his near perfect mimicry of movements he saw two years ago when executing the decoy play in 3x12 So Long, Farewell, are actually all examples I use to head-canon Jamie as a primarily visual/physical based learner. For whatever that's worth!)

NOW! Ted's willingness to seek and apply alternate techniques in season 1 when he should know the team as both individuals and a collective the least, coupled with his inability or unwillingness to practise differentiation in later seasons when he DOES KNOW THEM is why I don't think Ted is meeting the team, specifically Jamie at their/his point of need. Any person's ability to differentiate behaviour to meet the needs/requirements/comforts of the individual or group they're talking to is increased the more they know them. (We all do this in life, consciously or subconsciously we typically try and 'match the vibe' of whoever we're communicating with [doubly so for people who're engaging in masking.])

Ted should and does learn more about Jamie as a person and his background as the show progresses. He listens to Jamie vocalise both his internal justifications for his actions and his reflections of those justifications/actions in 1x06 Two Aces, he sees him being explicitly physically abused in 1x10 The Hope That Kills You, he listens to him describe a spiralling mindset in 2x02 Lavender, he sees him being explicitly verbally abused in 2x08 Man City.

Of course, one of the fascinating things about Jamie is how much he learns and grows over the course of the show, and there are instances in which I don't think Ted is recognising that (primarily his dismissal of Jamie in 3x03 4-5-1 and not utilising Jamie's knowledge of total football as a resource from the beginning in 3x07 The Strings That Bind).

Ted understands and has previously applied Jamie responding well to positive reinforcement, yet at multiple times in the series doesn't respond in a way that reflects his perspective being informed by that knowledge. Essentially not practising the appropriate level of care/caution when interacting with/around Jamie.

There's not intervening on Jamie's behalf in 2x03 Do the Right-est Thing or 2x06 The Signal when the team and Roy are targeting or ignoring him respectively. The assumed absence of any follow up to the events of 2x08 Man City, the Zava of it all in season 3, and of course the eternal 'forgiveness' kicker from 3x11 Mom City.

POINT BEING. And to actually answer your inquiry lol, I think Jamie is someone who needs clear communication, ideally bracketed in positive reinforcement based operant conditioning as a learning technique (reward behaviour you want reinforced by offering something desirable [praise in Jamie's case]) and visual/physical aid/references for concepts; as a LEARNER.

AS A PERSON, there's more. Ted can readily infer from all he's heard and seen that Jamie's a victim of child abuse. The long term damage to the adult psyche that abuse during formative years has is astronomical, it literally changes the foundational structures of a person's brain. And yet, again, we never see Ted even acknowledge this. Jamie in 3x11 Mom City, incidentally compares his father to Freddy Krueger, Ted elaborates on the comparison, then Jamie reiterates that Freddy Krueger's 'fucking terrifying'. Ted doesn't reassure Jamie (the requirement of his point of need), he gives him a Ted-talk (and in doing so doesn't differentiate his perspective/communication technique).

As far as what Ted thought the situation needed... search me I've got no idea. I do think Ted projects onto Jamie a hell of a lot. That he gets Jamie's personhood and life experiences all tangled up in the emotions he has about his father's death and his consequent perceived abandonment, his insecurities about his own ability to parent Henry and even in his own inability to clearly communicate with his mother. I do think Ted relies on his own forced optimism to 'get by'. Like how a great white shark dies if it stops swimming, if Ted stops being 'Ted', if he stops swimming, his past and his fears and his feelings will catch up to him and swallow him whole. (For what it's worth, I do think Ted is more unwell than even the show explicitly tells us, much like Jamie experiencing ongoing trauma due to childhood abuse, the effects both short-term and long-term as well as potential causalities of having a parent die by suicide are... grim.)

(Essentially the entire fandom has talked about basically all of this at one point or another, I'm just using slightly different language.)

NOW! These characters are fictional (obviously) and I am judging them based on real-people conventions and the best-principles of my own profession, as well as my background in theoretical psychology (which I think I forgot to mention and is also probably [??] relevant). My Doylist-perspective of Ted and his coaching/communication style is ...kinder, but if I get too sucked into the narrative it results in either brief tag-rambles or... whatever this thing I've just typed is. I think it's been too long since I've written academically, my thoughts have gone circular 🫠

ANYWAY! I hope this made something-approaching sense! Thank you again for asking to hear my thoughts! Always happy to word vomit!

ALSO, thank you for saying my tags are excellent (you are the first and currently only to say so!) - The tags are where I send my thoughts to die (in a 'I must banish them to move on' kind of way rather than a 'I'm strangling them' kind of way) so you saying they're excellent is even MORE flattering than you realise! Makes my brain want to purr 💚🤣

#what do i even begin to tag this slab of text as YEESH #ted lasso #jamie tartt #theodore lasso #ask box is always open #come hit me up for teaching rambles or psych rambles or fandom rambles or general rambles ANYTIME #readwing #jamiesfootball #oh shit trigger warnings #suicide #child abuse #if this indeed makes no sense i would like to blame it on the fact i've written it while drinking wine through a straw #(it's my friday night okay)#i'll post this in the morning when i've had the chance to read it while NOT drinking wine through a straw #hola- it is now morning and i'm only slightly hungover! win!

56 notes · View notes

darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

Text

For the Love of Dogs - An Alfie & Beth Solomons One Shot Story.

I think writing that long overdue check in with these two made me realise how bloody much I'd missed them, besties. Here, another installment in their story. I do hope I will have more ideas for further stories to follow :)

Words - 7,890

Warnings - Mention of death, but lots of fluff!

She entered the house on complete, brain disengaged autopilot, her outstretched finger finding the keypad to the alarm system, punching the code in and then simply standing in the welcome hall, a home much, much too quiet for her liking. The heaviness of it squeezed her heart, sniffing hard, rubbing her thumb over the soft leather of his collar. A collar now redundant.

Her beloved Cyril. Their beloved Cyril.

“Come ‘ere, darlin’.” Beth wouldn’t have been able to get through it, the last goodbye with their faithful family dog, without her husband at her side. Sinking into the comforting bulk of Alfie’s embrace, she wept against his chest, hearing him sniffing back further tears of his own. He hadn’t been afraid to cry as they’d both sat out on the grass behind the veterinary surgery, Cyril wrapped in soft blankets in a dog bed provided by the staff, the birds tweeting as they’d told him how he was loved, how much of a good boy he was.

The gargantuan mastiff had taken his last breaths feeling warm, calm and safe, his mum and dad right there with him. Thirteen years had come to a peaceful end as loving hands stroked his soft fur, leaving a hole behind in the lives of his family that far eclipsed his own huge size.

“If it’s anything to you, thirteen is simply unheard of for a Bullmastiff to reach. You both cared for him exceptionally well, truly.” the kind vet had offered sympathetically. She’d also been the one to suggest they put him to sleep outside, a practice that they’d had to develop over the Covid-19 lockdown, and one she now offered as a much nicer alternative to pets being euthanised upon a table, in a room so many of them felt anxiety towards.

The children were with their auntie Magda, their parents feeling it best they didn’t attend. It was heartbreaking enough for them as two adults; it would have been much too upsetting for the little ones to witness. Abe and Flora had said their goodbyes to him earlier that morning, sitting with him in their pyjamas, Beth calling the school and explaining they would not be attending on account of the event that afternoon, explaining she felt they would be too upset and distracted to concentrate in class. Luckily, the secretary had been understanding.

Instead, Magda had booked a day off work and taken them out to keep their minds off it, Thorpe Park being her chosen destination for them to visit. “Ain’t no bother at all, sweet. I could do having a day with me kids, unwind a bit. Poor little mites. Don’t you worry at all, and I don’t want no money, either. I’m treating them, whatever they want, they get.” Beth had been eternally grateful to her children’s godmother for her kind assistance.

Venturing into the house, Alfie pulled her wine bottle from the rack when they reached the kitchen, pouring out two glasses. He seldom drank, but felt like he needed something in that moment. His heart was truly broken, to be without the loving dog he’d had in his life for so long. Watching girlfriends come and go, his business empire going from strength to strength, meeting the woman who would eventually become his wife, adding children to their family, it had all been with Cyril by his side.

His loss was profound, sitting down at the island, passing a glass to Beth. “To the best bloody dog who ever was, baby beast.” They chinked glasses, smiling sadly as they remembered Cyril fondly. Their first child, as they always called him. Beth still hadn’t released her grip upon his collar, and for the rest of the afternoon she held onto it, thumb still stroking the leather.

“Would it be wrong of me if I decided to blow off my article and get pissed out of my face?”

Alfie’s smile tilted his lips, reaching to stroke her face. “Nah, treacle. Did Mags say she was taking the nippers for dinner an’ all while they’re out?”

“Yeah, she just texted me, actually. They’re currently at TGI Friday’s awaiting a plethora of their favourite foods.” She smiled at the thought, knowing how Magda loved it there just as much as the kids. “I don’t feel much like cooking for you and I, though.”

“Ain’t no bother to me, darlin’. I was gonna suggest we order from that new Italian place we like. I ain’t much in the mood for eating, but a bit later I could probably see off a piece of that lasagne they do. Tell you what, why don’t you go for a nice, long soak in the bath. I’ve got a few calls I need to make anyway.”

She took him up on his suggestion, kissing him before sliding from her seat, placing a kiss upon the collar still in her hand, too, before putting it up on one of the shelves behind the breakfast nook. She’d get to putting away all of Cyril’s other belongings at some point, but couldn’t face it right then. His bed they’d had to throw away that morning, the dog having an unfortunate bladder accident upon it. It had sealed to them that they were doing the right thing in putting him to sleep.

His toys remained, Beth looking at them mournfully where they sat in the basket for that storage purpose, deciding to move them to a place the kids wouldn’t see upon their return. Picking up his plush frog, she couldn’t resist sniffing it, smelling his lovely fur upon it, her eyes filling with tears all over again. They had decided to have him cremated, the vet advising that his ashes should be back within the next ten days. She knew she’d be in floods all over again then, too.

Trudging up the stairs, she felt weary with grief, knowing that she had to brighten by the time the children got back, for their sakes. She was expecting them to be upset, returning to a house without Cyril in it, although Magda had stated during various text check ins throughout the day that they seemed to be taking it well. Thorpe Park had proven to be a good distraction, it seemed.

While the bath ran, she tidied up her little office area, smiling as always when her eye was caught by the framed article from The Times, her very first being published within the newspaper. It had been a gift from Alfie upon her moving in with him. She could scarcely believe it had been ten years since her move into St Mark’s House. It sometimes still felt like ten weeks ago.

The smell of her Jo Malone bath oil caught her nose as she shuffled the last stack of papers, the notes of English pear and freesia crisp in their aroma, Beth stripping off her white shirt and jeans, placing them into the laundry hamper. “Need to get a load of laundry done.” she noted to herself, seeing the basket just over half full. It could wait.

The hot water provided a nice, comforting surround of relaxation, her eyes flitting over to the wall by the stained-glass windows, once again viewing her paint swatch choices. She tired of white, wanting something a little different for the space. So far, the smoky blue was a definite front runner, but she also did favour the deep, mustard yellow, almost a dark gold in hue. Hmm. She’d live with the dashes of paint a little longer before deciding. The pink which Flora has suggested was a definite no.

Once done, she got out, dressing in her favourite, comfortable loungewear set, heading back downstairs. The doorbell sounded just as she was about to head to the kitchen, her path swerved back out towards the front door.

“She fell asleep about half an hour away,” Magda whispered, passing a sleeping Flora into her mother’s arms, kissing her cheek. She turned, giving her to a suddenly present Alfie, her husband stating that he would see to putting them straight to bed since Abe also looked shattered. “Got bellies full of pizza and chicken wings, they have. Had a right ole’ feast, we did. I swear, I reckon I’ve put on a bleedin’ stone and I only had the Jack Daniel’s chicken!” She then paused, reaching for Beth’s face, her thumb skimming the apple. “Bloody horrid, ain’t it? Coming back to a house without ‘em in it.”

Of course, Magda understood the pain only too well, losing her beloved Claus only five months before to cancer. Luckily for her and Dennis, at least they still had Marley and Karma. She nipped that little slither of envy immediately, though. “It is, mate. It really is.”

“Well, I know it ain’t much, but I got you a little something.” Reaching into her gorgeous Fendi tote, Magda pulled out a bottle of her favourite Casamigos tequila, handing it over with a smile.

“Awww babe, love you,” Beth cooed, giving her a kiss.

“Love you too, sweet. Open it up, get nice an’ sloshed, and thank me later. Right, I better get moving, gotta go feed his highness and walk the pups.”

“Thanks again for taking them today, Mags. You made a hard situation just that little bit easier,” she spoke fondly, Magda waving her hand.

“I had a right good time with them, babe. Always do.” Beth waved to her from the door as she drove away, thinking herself so very lucky. A little while later, the doorbell trilled again, Alfie answering it that time. The cause was in his arms as he entered the lounge, handing her a gigantic bouquet of beautiful flowers.

“Whoever sent these fuckin’ mugged off half the Chelsea flower show, bloody ‘ell!” he exclaimed as his wife took the blooms, pulling the card from the top.

“Sending all our love to you, Alfie and the babies. We loved darling Cyril so much, too. Lots of love from Mimi and Kinga xxx”

Her heart was beyond touched at the generosity of her girls, getting together like that for her to gift something so lovely in her grief. They understood, though, how dogs truly were family. Those surprises didn’t stop coming in the wake of Cyril’s passing either, Beth’s breakfast with her dear Oliver a few days later yielding another beautiful surprise.

“I hope you don’t get upset, darling, but Brett and I wanted to do something nice in his memory, so this is for you.” He passed the brown paper Habitat bag across the table, Beth pulling out a well wrapped, rectangular shaped gift from within. Tearing open the chic wrapping paper, her throat pinched with emotion, seeing a beautiful black and white photograph of Cyril that Oliver’s husband had taken of him the previous summer, lying outside on the patio, looking so regal in the fading evening light. “Brett says he was the most photogenic dog he’s ever met, and I quite believe that to be true.”

She couldn’t speak for a few moments, sniffing hard, flapping her hand as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love you both so much,” she eventually managed, placing the framed picture down and exiting her seat to give him a huge hug.

“And we love you too, baby. He was a splendid chap, old Cyril. Remember how scared of him I used to be, back when I first visited you at home? And then by the end of that night, he was sitting next to me on the sofa, resting his massive head on my shoulder?” His fond words sparked the memory, Cyril indeed taking to Oliver very much.

She nodded, taking her seat again. “I do, yes. Gosh, it was so long ago. I remember when he first met Brett too...”

“And humped the hell out of his leg!” Oliver finished, clapping his hands together with mirth. What he shouted, too! “Oh, my Jesus, he’s going to give me ligament damage! Queen down! Queen down!” Her emotional wobble was forgotten as she burst into hysterics, remembering Brett literally knocked to the floor while she’d wheezed, Oliver in tears, Alfie having to detach a rampant Cyril from the object of his affections. To Brett he had been known primarily as big gay dog ever since.

They shared a few memories of him before their conversation moved on, both discussing work, Beth enthralled by his tales from New York Fashion Week, from where he had not long returned. He’d also brought with him another gift he alerted her to in the bag, some of her favourite American sweeties, two big bags of Milk Duds present when she looked again. How well he knew her.

After breakfast, she had work commitments to attend, calling in at London Life and Style to discuss an article she’d submitted, her little sheen dented by the fact that the viper, also known as Madeline Arlington-Smith, had dissected it thoroughly.

“I feel that if we leave this part out, this part too, it shall be more in accordance with the overall opinion and not merely a fanciful display of the world according to Beth Solomons.”

She remembered back to being much more novice in her journalistic endeavours, seated in that very chair ten years before, taking the heat for an article Madeline had thoroughly given the bloodletting treatment to. It has preceded her first meet with her now husband, seeking refuge and Cabernet Sauvignon in a bar that belonged to him. “Then why on earth ask me to write the article, Madeline, if not from my own perspective?”

“Because you are commenting on the zeitgeist from the perspective of your peers, not simply you, you, you. How does the subject make women of your age feel, what emotions does it drive, how does it affect you all on a whole? I would like a little more of that. We go to print in two weeks. Please have your corrections submitted within the next seven days.”

The viper was not aware of it, but she narrowly avoided an outburst, Beth physically biting her tongue as she rose from her seat. “I will make sure of that.” Striding from the office, she felt her chest thickening, nodding and smiling at a few of the staffers as she passed them by on the way to the elevator. She knew it was because she was still raw over Cyril, she knew that, not being able to take her critique on the chin with her usual good nature. When she arrived home, though, she succumbed slightly.

“That bloody bitch effing bloody woman!”

Alfie raised his eyebrows, looking at her as he clicked a pen against his teeth. “Madeline’s well then, yeah?”

“She’s right on bloody form, she is! Oy!”

He chuckled at his wife’s continued exasperation, making a motion for her to take a seat on his lap. Welcoming her into his arms, he kissed her head, rubbing her back where she was tense. “How about I take you out for lunch, ay? Somewhere fancy, then we’ll go pick up the babies from school? I know you’re still heartbroken over Cyril, and as such you ain’t takin’ whatever the fuck the cobra woman told you...”

“Viper,” she interjected with.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever the fuck they call her, she’s still a bloody snake, innit? So yeah, you ain’t taking it as good as you normally do, right, so let me take you out and get your mind off it.”

Her face crept into a grin. “Can we go to Jean-Georges?"

He could have guessed that’s where she’d request. “You bloody want caviar, don’t ya?” Her rapid nodding confirmed. It was only in the last few years that she’d really relaxed her moderately Kosher diet to such a degree, telling Alfie it was his influence, turning her into an equally bad Jew as he labelled himself. “Good job I’m worth a mint, innit? Fuckin’ wives and their disposition for pricey fish eggs, I dunno. Let me call Stace and see if she’s got a table.”

Stace, or rather Stacy, was the Maitre'd at Jean-Georges at the Connaught, the hostess always taking good care of them when they visited, as she did with all of her exuberantly wealthy clients. “Stace! How are ya, flower? Yeah, ain’t bad, sweet, ain’t bad. Yeah, you gotta table for about an hour from now? You do? Lovely, treacle, yeah put me down, just me and the missus. Alright, love. See you in a bit.” He then turned to his beaming wife. “You’ve got twenty minutes to go and faff. Hurry up.”

She placed a big smacker on his lips, rushing upstairs to quickly check her face, refresh her deodorant and perfume, and change into something more suitable for a restaurant with three Michelin stars. One pair of leather leggings were pulled on, along with her beautiful, grey cashmere sweater, her red Birkin bag selected, and contents transferred from her other bag, her feet jammed into her black Louboutins, and she was good to go.

“Oh blimey, my hair!” Circling back, she quickly picked up her brush and gave it a once over, hearing her husband boom from the stairs.

“Five minutes, Bethany!” He entered the bedroom, pulling off his sweatshirt, giving her an approving once over. “Love them lovely legs wrapped in leather.” A smack placed to her bum echoed through the bedroom, Alfie chuckling with mirth as he shed the rest of his clothes, heading to the ensuite and getting into the shower.

“You said five minutes!” she yelled, giving his nudity an appreciative once over while leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

“I’ll be out in twenty seconds, darlin’.” She had to envy him sometimes, how he could go from casual to restaurant ready in a matter of minutes. Styling his hair took him all of a minute, whereas for her, she’d battled through her thick mane with the straighteners for half an hour that morning. He dressed in a grey suit with a black shirt, not bothering with a tie, handsome, yet sophisticated and casual. A spray of aftershave had him ready with forty-nine seconds to spare. Yes, Beth had counted.

One drive across London later, and they were being seated at one of their favourite restaurant by Stacy herself, who was as attentive and polite as ever. He ordered his usual sparkling water, Beth a large vodka over ice, since it went best with what she was soon to be enjoying. The way he worded it too, when her caviar arrived, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Enjoying that, darlin’, having a load of sturgeon reproductive goo in your gob?”

She almost sprayed half of them back out again. “Stop it! And yes, I am.”

He chuckled, winking. “Anything I can do to put a smile back on your face, petal.” He paused, sipping his drink and taking another bite of his souffle. “Kids are taking it better than I expected ‘em to, ain’t they?”

“They really are, yes,” she confirmed, smoothing more of the beluga onto a toast point. “Better than me, I think. I burst into tears as soon as I opened Oliver’s gift earlier.” She’d shown it to him before they’d left, Alfie placing it upon the hallway table, next to one of their wedding pictures. He’d loved it, assuring her he’d call Oliver and Brett personally to offer his thanks later that evening when they’d both be at home.

“Kids are so much more resilient than we give ‘em credit for, I think. Flora had a little wobble this morning on the way to school, but she was fine by the time we got to the gates. Told her about rainbow bridge, she seemed to like that.”

The rainbow bridge story. Her heart fluttered at his tenderness with their youngest. Leaning over, she gave him a kiss, Alfie accepting it, albeit with a slightly affronted look.

“Ugh, get away with your fish eggs! Bleedin’ stink horrid, they do!” No, he was definitely not a fan of the delicacy. Still, it didn’t stop him from buying them for his wife whenever she wanted them, though. They followed their starters with a steak for him, Beth choosing the grilled lamb, much too full for dessert. He did, however, stop by at her favourite chocolatier on the way back to Chelsea, spoiling her a little more, purchasing a few treats for the kids, too.

Once home, Beth sat with the children in the lounge, going over their homework tasks with them while Alfie returned to his office. While there, he found himself periodically checking his watch, the habit pure muscle memory. At 5pm every night, he’d leave his desk to walk Cyril. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face, absently stroking his beard as he leaned back and thought of his furry best friend.

God, he missed him.

They’d known for a while that his declining health meant only one thing, both making the decision not to keep pumping him full of painkillers for his arthritic hips, and eventual failing organs. It wouldn’t have been fair, they’d decreed, to keep him going just for the sake of their hearts. He’d outlived his life expectancy by three years, it was his time.

Rather than continuing viewing his acquisition profits for the last month, he found himself looking through various dog rescue sites, smiling at the sweet, hopeful faces of the residents. He decided right there and then that when the family were ready, they’d rescue as opposed to buying a puppy. Maybe they could take in more than one? He’d only been looking for a few moments when he felt uncomfortable, knowing it truly was too soon to even consider any dog other than Cyril being in the house, no matter how cute they all were.

Weeks passed, the family getting used to the lack of his presence within the house, life carrying on. For Alfie, with the kids being on their half term break from school, he threw himself into being a present dad, knowing his empire wasn’t going anywhere and would certainly not crumble for him taking time away from it, enjoying days out with them in abundance.

It was while he was out with his offspring one morning that Beth decided to take up an offer extended to her and try something new. Mimi had been raving about her love for Thai boxing for a good few months, attending both mid-morning and evening classes at her local gym, finally talking Beth into attending one with her.

“You know Abe thinks you’re a ninja now, don’t you?” she spoke as they ran through warmup stretches, Mimi chuckling softly.

“Well, if you enjoy it and keep it up, he’ll be able to say you are, too!”

“Oh no,” she scoffed, reaching to her toes. “I’m still smelly fart head. And Nagatha Christie, thanks to him overhearing Alfie calling me that.”

Mimi all but exploded laughing. “Oh my god, he doesn’t change!” She remembered back to when she’d been dating him, him calling her exactly the same whenever she incisively bent his ear over something. “So, where did you say they’ve gone today?”

Taking to the floor, they sat opposite each other, legs wide and feet pressed together, taking turns to pull back on one another’s hands to experience the deep stretch. “Chessington World of Adventure. They’ve never been before, you should have seen them this morning. God, Mims. The squealing!”

“Awww,” she cooed, leaning back as she softly gripped Beth’s hands. “I can’t wait for Lis to be big enough to appreciate all of this and go there, too. I was actually talking about it to Josh a while back, but I can never remember it’s called Chessington, so I was calling it Chesterton Theme Park and he was like, “erm, what, babes? Where’s that?” until I realised that I was flubbing the name. Typical me.”

It truly was. Mimi would not be Mimi if she wasn’t getting her words confused. Beth still wasn’t over her recent blunder of calling chicken pasta Alfredo, “the Alfred pasta.” Her and Kinga had fallen apart completely while a totally nonplussed Mims had continued browsing the menu. She was a pure joy if nothing else.

As Beth very rapidly discovered once the gloves had been put on and focus mitts brought out, Mimi was also one hell of a mean shot with her fists. Then the kicks happened.

“Jesus bloody Christ!”

“Oh, don’t be daft, mate. I’m not that strong!” Mimi exclaimed, a well-placed kick sending Beth a couple of feet backwards.

She gathered herself, holding the kick pad firmly once more. “I beg to differ!”

By the time they were done and meeting up with Magda for a little shopping and lunch, the latter having enjoyed a blissful morning of nothing due to her booking some time off work, Beth could barely move.

“Alright, tin man.”

Magda’s words earned her a scowl, Beth kissing her cheek. “It isn’t funny, she beat me up!” Turning, they both witnessed a triumphant Mimi flexing her muscles, cracking up at herself and moving to greet Magda.

“Tiny, little blonde Bruce Lee, is it?”

“Not quite,” Mimi muffled from the crush of Magda's usual, warm, bone crunching hug. “But you should come!”

She should have expected the face she got in reply to that. “My love, the only exercise I get is running me gob. You know that. Right! Let’s go be fancy bitches then, shall we, ladies?” The women were heading to Mecca, otherwise known as Covent Garden, their favourite place to shop. Magda’s contact at Chanel and subsequent discount didn’t hurt either. Not everyone was a wealthy as Beth.

She still found it bizarre, though, even ten years into being the girlfriend and then wife of a billionaire, to be able to spend an unlimited budget on herself. She and Alfie did offset it by giving an awful lot of it away to charity, though. Or, as Beth often did, heading to the bank, withdrawing a few hundred pounds and giving out little wedges to any homeless people she happened to see along her way. It made her feel better about the huge divide in the country between the very wealthy and very poor.

Still, the Chanel employees relished in seeing her name down in the appointment book, knowing they were about to receive a very nice commission.

“Mrs. Solomons, welcome,” she was greeted by Leighton with, the chief sales attendant. “Oh, this cardigan is a dream! Is it an Oscar?” he asked courteously, smoothing the black cashmere of her sleeve.

She leaned in close to whisper. “No, it’s actually M&S!”

His mouth dropped open. “Oooh, I love a good bargain! Can I offer you ladies a drink? Coffee, juice, champagne?” Of course, they all chose the latter. Once furnished with drinks, Leighton allowed them to browse unassisted, Magda deep in conversation with her friend Hannah, who managed the store while Mimi picked up a bottle of her usual perfume, and Beth browsed the bags.

She ended up choosing two of the boy bags, quilted effect design with a chain strap, one in grey and another in pink. The pink one was hidden, though, since the recipient wasn’t her. She ferried her choices to Leighton, asking him to gift wrap the pink one, moving to the shoes and selecting a pair of turquoise sandals she liked, too. Those, a skirt and pair of trousers later, and she was done.

Once Magda was done chatting, choosing a scarf and a new pair of sunglasses for herself, and another item also not destined for her, they paid for their purchases and left, hopping into a taxi and heading over to Shoreditch. They had a table booked at Camino, Mimi’s favourite tapas restaurant, a meal she had no idea she was being treated to by her friends in lieu of being able to celebrate her birthday with her on the actual day, Josh taking her for a long weekend in Italy the following week. Hence the purchases at Chanel not destined for their own wardrobes.

“Right then, little miss almost thirty-two,” Magda began, bobbing her tongue between her teeth as Mimi cringed.

“Oh, don’t remind me! I was twenty-one five minutes ago, I feel old!”

Beth snorted, lifting her eyes from the menu. “Oh, stop it. I just turned forty!”

“And I’m hitting the big five zero in six months, so you’re still the bloody baby of the group, ain’t ya?” Magda chimed, giving her a soft poke on the wrist. “Anyway, as I was saying, since you’ll be enjoying pasta and cannoli's over in the motherland on your actual birthday, you get your gifts from us now. Happy birthday, babe.”

Mimi’s mouth fell open when from beneath the table, two double C branded boxes were pulled out and passed to her, a long, high pitched squeak emanating. “Oh my fucking god! You didn’t!”

“We did, now shut your gob and get ‘em opened!”

She did, choosing Magda’s first, her mouth flying open again when she pulled out the long, gold and blue Chanel nameplate style necklace within.

“Oh, darlin’,” the lady herself cooed, Mimi in tears as she immediately put it on and then rushed to hug her. “You like it, then?”

“I bloody love it, Mags! Thank you so much, I love you!”

She was so touched, Mimi always so sweet when presented with gifts. “Love you too, sunshine, and you’re welcome.” Taking her seat again, she then moved onto Beth’s present, almost passing out when she saw the bag she had so coveted within, her hands flying to cover her open mouth with a gasp.

“Beth!” Those hands then began to flap, more tears coming. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Once again, she was out of her seat, wrapping Beth in a huge hug. “I love it, and you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” she told her warmly, kissing her cheek a few times. “We know you’ve had a rough year, so we wanted to spoil you a little.”

Indeed, it had been a bad year for Mimi, finding out in January that she was pregnant again, but sadly losing the baby just a week before her first scan. She’d been so sad for months about it, her friends trying hard to pull her out of her funk and be there for her during her period of grief.

Beth knew the pain well, she and Alfie suffering the same between her having Abe and conceiving Flora, so had been a pillar of support for her during that time. It was also one of the reasons why she’d taken up Thai boxing, needing something to take out her anger at the injustice of losing her baby on, choosing the sport to help in catharsis. The fact that she happened to be very good at it and already training for her orange belt was a mere bonus.

After enjoying their lunch, they were about to get a cab back over to Chelsea, since the women were heading back to Beth’s for a girl’s night that evening, when one of them saw something in the near distance she couldn’t ignore. Thai boxing had also made Mimi very brave where conflict was concerned.

“Oi! Oi!” She shouted, pointing. Her heels were off, Mimi sprinting barefoot up the street, Beth and Magda turning to search for what on earth had caused their friend’s sudden reaction.

“Oh, shitting hell,” Magda quietly hissed, beginning to run after her as they witnessed the object of Mimi’s anger, Beth hot on her heels. “I know she’s got all this newly found Thai boxing mettle, our Mims, but she can’t take on some scummy roadman by herself, fuck!”

A roadman was Magda’s preferred slang term for an undesirable man, usually donned in sports clothing, who stank of weed and thought himself to be some kind of hard arsed gangster. A large dog upon a lead that was much too large for purpose was usually involved, too, which in this instance was what had drawn Mimi’s attention. Or rather, the way said roadman treated the animal in question.

“Stop it! You can’t treat a dog like that, what the fucking hell is wrong with you?” she exclaimed, the young man of about twenty yanking the poor, skinny but still sizable, dark grey dog by the heavy choke chain around his neck. “He’s just a baby, you bastard!”

“Yo, what’s it to you, though, yeah?” he spoke, sucking his teeth. “Ain’t got nuttin’ here, girl. No business with me, ya get me, blud?”

“You’ve got a bloody chain about the size they use to secure fucking motorbikes around his neck and you’re yanking him up the street! I’m not standing by and watching that shit, mate! Fucking stop pulling him!”

The man even had the gall to smirk. “Ain’t nuttin’ to you. Yo, don’t touch me, fam!” He tried to shake her grip on his arm loose, Mimi fighting to secure the lead from his grasp, people all around stopping to stare. “Fuck, I’ll fuckin’ stab you up, bird. Ya get me?”

Magda and Beth arrived with them, the former immediately imposing herself. “Threaten her with a knife again, boy. Go on, sunshine. Fucking dare ya.”

“And who are you, old lady? What ya gonna do, yeah?”

Magda laughed, still imposing into his space. “Who am I? Someone who grew up on the fuckin’ roughest estate in Brixton is who I am, you little roadman twat. I’ll take the chain you’ve got round that poor animal's neck and fuckin’ knock every single one of your fuckin’ teeth out your mouth with it if you threaten me or my friend again. Ya get me, blud?”

Her mimicking of his vernacular drew a few laughs from those watching, Magda unblinking, Beth feeling her pulse escalate with nerves. Just then, her focus was drawn by the sudden feeling of softness pushing against her hand. Looking down, she saw the dog moving closer to her legs, Mimi successfully yanking the lead free from the grip of the man still facing off with Magda.

She crouched to him, stroking his crinkles. He was shaking. “Hello, lovely boy. Are you alright? Goodness, this chain is cutting into your neck, you poor soul,” she cooed, checking him over. He was in a state, that was for sure. She recognised his breed, but he looked the furthest from how the huge, proud looking Neapolitan Mastiff should have appeared. He was young too, she noted, nowhere near the full-grown size but still, so undernourished. Looking into his big, soulful eyes as he softly thumped his tail and licked her hands, covering her in a generous slick of slobber, her ears caught the tail end of Magda’s tirade.

“Now, I’ll give you a choice, mate. Walk away and leave the dog with us, or I’ll fuckin’ get the law on ya for animal abuse and threatening my friend with a knife. What’s it to be? Because you ain’t lookin’ after that dog at fucking all, are ya? Look at him, barely out of his puppy months and he’s skin and bone! What’s it to be?”

She stood firm, the man shrugging before cussing under his breath, his teeth sucked again before he simply walked away. He didn’t even fight for his dog, so little was the care for the creature beyond having a status symbol at the end of a lead. A few people applauded, a man coming forth and offering his hand to Magda, telling her how well she’d handled it.

She then turned to Beth, taking the lead from Mimi and handing it to her with a curt nod. “Don’t say I never give you nothing.”

Immediately, tears spilled from her eyes, hugging the dog as she cried into his soft, yet dirty fur. He stank of cigarettes and weed. “Oi, come on, babe. Hold it together, eh?” Magda continued, crouching to put her arm around her, Mimi dipping too to offer support. “Right, nearest pet shop. He needs a bit of proper dog clobber and not this nasty chain. Look at it! You could tow a fuckin’ Jeep out of a bog with it! Poor puppy, Christ! He can’t even be one yet.”

A quick hail of a black cab got them the transport they needed to reach the nearest pet shop, the large puppy more than happy to head along with the three kind ladies who made such a fuss of him.

“He’s a lovely chap, ain’t he?” the cabbie chirped, looking in the rear view. “Please make sure he don’t slobber on me seats though, girls! How long you ‘ad him for?”

“About five minutes,” Beth quipped, the cabbie looking confused. “My besties here commandeered him from a roadman lad who was mistreating him, so yes, I went out handbag shopping and ended up with a couple of them, and a dog, too.”

“Bet you couldn’t pick one of them up in Chanel either, right?” His words had them laughing, obviously noticing the branded bags they all carried from their little splurge in that very store. Once at the pet superstore, they paid him with thanks, Beth taking some tissues from her blazer pocket and wiping up where the dog had dribbled on the floor.

“I can’t take you in on this,” she spoke, removing the chain. “Are you going to be good and stay with me, or do I have to put my back out and carry you?” He must have weighed a good twenty plus kilograms already, Magda noting on the way over that he was probably under a year in age. “Come on.” She made a kissy noise with her lips, the dog tilting his head before lolloping along with them, pinning himself at Beth’s side.

Just twenty-five minutes into his new life, and he seemed to feel safe enough to revert to how he should have acted. Carefree, silly and happy, as all puppies should. He drew a few questions from the staff, Magda explaining the story while Beth sorted him with a new collar and lead, another member of staff coming over and advising on a harness, too.

“You’ll of course need to come back and fit him with a larger one once he’s fully grown,” he spoke, making adjustments, noting the state he was in. “Flipping well done to you all, too, taking him away from that vile person. I can’t bear to see animals mistreated.”

It was one of those pet superstores that also contained a veterinarian clinic as well as a groomer, Beth pleased to learn that they actually had a few appointments spare for each a little later, waiting around for forty minutes after making the purchases of food, a new bed, toys and everything else he needed before going in to see the vet.

“From his teeth, I would estimate he’s around eight months old, no microchip either, so we can pop one of those in for you, too. I’m going to say I very much doubt he’s had his vaccinations either, so I can start a file for you with a card. I will recommend a course of wormer and flea treatments as well which we sell down in the store. Can I take your details please, Mrs. Solomons?”

She duly gave those details, the vet speedily typing them into the file. “And the dog’s name?”

Oh. She had no idea. Thinking for a few moments, she felt a little on the spot, feeling like it should have been a decision she consulted Alfie and her kids over. It then came to her in a flash, the perfect name for her brand-new companion.

“Wilson.” she smiled. After all, they had been on Wilson Street when they’d found him. Once his microchip had been sorted, the little wounds caused by the chain upon his neck bathed and flushed, the vet made a few more recommendations, Beth taking Wilson’s new vaccination card and thanking him.

They then went to the groomers section of the store, Beth remaining with him while he was attended to, for the sake of it all being so new and not wanting him to feel like he was being abandoned. The colour of the water that ran off him made her insides pinch. She guessed he’d likely never been washed. She was only surprised he didn’t have fleas or skin conditions, the state he’d been in.

Once bathed, Beth held him while he was dried, Wilson swiping at the nozzle for the dog dryer with his paws, comically trying to bite it as well, his large, floppy ears he hadn’t quite grown into flapping around all over the place. He tilted his head back, his big, blue eyes staring at Beth with all the love and trust in the world, his tail thumping. He knew he was safe, and it melted her heart to see him accept his new life so willingly. She could only imagine just what the hell he had come from.

With some flea treatment and wormer purchased, another cab was called for, Mimi calling for an Uber pet service, the girls and Wilson all piling in.

“Oh god, I hope Alfie doesn’t go mental at me for bringing him home. Thank the stars you two are staying for dinner, he’ll make less of a scene with his best mate and the woman he’s terrified of there,” she exclaimed, both snorting with laughter.

Magda pointed at Wilson, reaching to rub his ears. “How the flip can anybody go mental at this face? Look at him! Bloody lovely thing, he is!” He was, that much was true, but just nine weeks after Cyril’s passing, Beth worried that it was much too soon to consider another canine companion. Then again, what were she and her girls meant to have done? Let the poor creature remain with the scumbag who previously owned him? Taken him to Battersea? He had a new start right there waiting for him. It seemed silly to bypass such a fated meeting.

Once back at home, Magda grabbed as many bags as she could, Beth leading Wilson to the front door while juggling his new bed under her other arm, Mimi bringing the rest. Placing everything in the kitchen, Beth unfastened Wilson from his harness, the three standing back while watching him begin to explore his new surroundings.

“Might be a good idea to steer him in the direction of the back door, just in case he isn’t house broken,” Mimi suggested, Beth widening her eyes.

“A very good point, my friend! Oy, could you imagine if he pissed up the sofa before Alfie even gets home to either love him or shout at me?”

Magda snorted. “Babe, he ain’t gonna shout, you’re fine! Look at him, bloody little smasher, he is! Besides, didn’t you tell me you guys wanted to rescue? Well, he was rescued, so there you go.”

Following the dog, they all herded him in the direction of Alfie’s office, Beth jogging to open the door that led to the garden. Once outside, his nose didn’t leave the floor, tail wagging, letting out a few excited baby barks as he sprinted across the patio, chasing a butterfly. Three hearts all melted immediately, Beth’s then catapulting into her chest when she heard the front door opening.

“Stay out here with him, let me go and face the music.” Turning she strode through the office, welcoming her family, Alfie’s eye as eagle as ever.

“What’s with this, this shifty look on your mug, ay?” he spoke slowly, pointing at her face and giving her another kiss.

“Um... something happened today. Kids, go and take your coats off and wait in the kitchen. Abe, sort you and your sister a juice each, there’s a good boy.”

His eyebrow rose. “And?” he spoke, the kids obediently trotting off down to the kitchen.

“And...” she began, hearing a little commotion, and a soft yapping bark before turning to see Wilson slip out of Magda’s grasp and come hurtling towards them. “And we have a puppy.”

“What the fu...” he began, his eyes widening as his mouth dropped open. “Hello, you! Fuck, look at you, bloody hell! Little tank, innit? Bit thin though, ain’t ya, ay? Hello mate!” Reaching down, he easily lifted him into his arms, Wilson showering him in puppy kisses. “Oi, no biting the beard, yeah?” More washing continued. “Where’d ya get him from? I thought you birds was off up Covent Garden? Last time I checked, they didn’t sell no mastiff’s up there!”

“You’re not cross with me?” she asked, her hand rubbing Wilson’s wriggly legs.

“Nah, darlin’! Bit surprised, like, but I ain’t mad. Look at him, he’s a right little champ, ain’t ya?”

“Told you,” Magda called, ducking her head back in from where she was smoking a cigarette, swiftly going on to explain what had happened, Alfie and Beth joining them outside.

“Bleedin’ might’ve known you two would have something to do with it!” he exclaimed, pinching Mimi’s nose between his fingers. “Thinking you’re some kind of street fighter, takin’ on roadmen, you fiery mare!”

Mimi beamed, giving him a few playful punches. “Worth it though, wasn’t it? Puppy boy here got himself some lovely new parents and a lovely new home!”

“Yeah,” Alfie began, setting him down on the ground again, Wilson lolloping off, “a home he better not bleedin’ take to chewing. Ain’t having none of that game, I ain’t. You got him toys and all that, baby beast? Or we gotta go out again?”

“Nope, all sorted. Hold on, let me go and get the kids.” Rushing back to the kitchen, she retrieved her children, telling them there was a surprise waiting for them outside. When they saw him, oh, their little faces. Excited squeals filled the space, happy tears were shed, and a very big, very wriggly puppy introduced himself with lots of kisses.

Suddenly, the house wasn’t so quiet for the new member of the family settling in, the girls night turning into a family night as they all watched Wilson happily acclimatise to his new surroundings. He played with the kids for a full two hours before flopping into his bed, asleep within moments. Since it was the weekend as well as half term, the kids were allowed to stay up late, their dad treating them to pizza while Beth ordered in a Chinese takeaway for her and her friends, eating it upstairs in the cinema room while they watched Pretty Woman.

While taking a pause between that and the next film, she came downstairs to grab another bottle of prosecco from the fridge, pausing at the entrance to the lounge. There, all snuggled up on a nest of blankets and floor cushions, her husband sat with the children stroking Wilson, who was stretched out on his legs. Noticing his wife there, he smiled, winking. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. All four of you.”

And by god, how she did. With the arrival of one dog who needed them just as much as they did him, their family was whole again. Wherever the spirit of Cyril was, she couldn’t help but think he’d approve, too.

The End.

#alife solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons au #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fanfiction #alfie and beth #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

shuinami · 8 months

Text

Part 3: How to write an MLE-based London accent authentically

Part 1: Who, What (London Accents) | Part 2: When, Where, Why (Black Londoner Culture since Windrush)

As I conclude this little guide, I'd like mention that my ask box and DMs are always open if anyone has further questions or anything 🤎

In this section, I'll go over some advice, the grammar and vocabulary and provide some suggestions for references.

Section A: Basic Tips

When to use slang

The concentration of slang is key to differentiating characters as well as writing an accent authentically. As an MLE-based speaker who is not actually a roadman (meaning a gangster, though many people misuse the term to refer to anyone who uses MLE, especially if they are working class), like most of us, Hobie does not utterly kill it with slang that would likely not be understandable to the people he’s with. There are a lot of phrases and idioms/metaphors that seem self-explanatory once you know what they mean or that seem similar to Americanisms (e.g. roadman = street/hood nigga), but of course, as someone who doesn’t use the terms, hearing it in passing, it probably wouldn’t be understandable, despite the speaker thinking it is.

Coming from a diverse place, often with immigrant parents who don’t even speak English as a first language, if fluently at all (not in the case of most black Caribbeans from former British colonies, but remember Asians and Africans are more plentiful here), trust me, we know what we sound like 😂! Most of us code-switch, as we learn standard English in school and, until more recently, where more people are 3rd gen+ immigrants as opposed to 2nd, we actually tend to pick up MLE slang from experiences outside the home as we grow up. At the same time, some people really don’t care at all and don’t change how they speak for anyone haha. I don’t recommend trying to write code-switching if you’re not extremely familiar with MLE because you’ll probably lose the flow and also, Hobie only eases up a little bit after his intro.

My point is though, that not every single sentence needs to have slang in it. Most should, but if you’re trying to be serious or sexy, for example, and you feel the need to tack on some slang just to convey Bri’ishness, even if it doesn’t really fit, don’t do it cause it’s no more authentic than just writing plain English in those scenarios.

When talking to people from his own dimension, however, slang it up if you’d like, because the expectation would be that a (working class or ethnic) Londoner would understand him.

For humour, mocking and teasing, we love to use slang because a lot of it is funny, even to us. Like I said, we know what we sound like. Those are the moments when more obscure slang (such as Cockney rhyming slang) might come out for comedic effect.

It’s good to have some balance, so not every word needs to be substituted. If you couldn’t read it without a fucking huge glossary, you’ve probably done a bit too much.

Writing the Accent

It’s good in moderation. ‘Luv’, ‘ain’t’, replacing the last g with an apostrophe in -ing words - you all have those things down, it works, good job.

HOWEVER, it is very clear that a lot of you have no clue what letters we do and don’t drop/change and in what words, as well as a lot of you going OT with removing the T’s from the middle of words. I know it kind of sounds like that to you but it reads like an over-exaggeration or mockery, particularly because most London accents, including Hobie’s, are much lighter in comparison to Brits from other areas, in which such omissions and alterations of letters would be somewhat appropriate but still, in moderation. I don’t recommend typing out the accent often, just sprinkle it around for a bit of flavour but don’t consistently write in that way because your writing loses legibility and it gets quite distracting.

Content

The stereotype of British people liking sarcasm is true for most and, in general, we like to have, what we call, ‘a bit of banter’. We’re a jokey people, even if those jokes can be a bit harsh or teasing. Confusingly, even if we are joking around, it doesn’t mean necessarily we’re being friendly, joking is just how we communicate (e.g. “Oh boy, humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived”, “What does that do?” “Apart from having a great name?”, “super humane and not creepy”, “this is a great look…”). I think most people have got this down really well, so keep it up guys 😎🤙

Another thing is cussing, swearing, profanity, whatever you wanna call it. We do it a lot for no reason, mainly spamming the word “fuck(ing)”. So have fun with that if you aren’t already.

We’ll get into it more in the terms of endearment section of Section B but, basically a lot of Londoners are typically not too mushy or affectionate, as is the stereotype for big city people and, additionally, British people in general aren’t the most direct in their words. Obviously, some people are but it’s not the culture if you’re trying to write proper ‘authentic’ haha. For a lot of us, saying sweet stuff can be quite laborious when sincere or cheesy or confrontational levels of direct really 😂 We ain’t the friendliest of types through our words so I'd recommend relying more on context for the sweet factor unless it's a stand-out moment.

Different parts of the UK, even within England itself, have different slang

Idk what else to say about this but yeah, there’s some phrases I’ve seen people use that have me scratching my head cause “nobody [from my area] says those words in that order” but I’m guessing it’s down to people incorporating slang which is more commonly heard up North because it’s all classed as British/U.K. slang when you look it up so, just be wary of that.

Section B: Grammar and Vocab (the thing you’ve been waiting for 😂)

I’ll link a document here so I don’t clog up your dash more than I already have. Feel free to bookmark it or anything, I’ll update it if needed. The contents are links to the relevant section so you can just click those if you’re not trying to read the whole thing.

I only included some highlights of the things that are easy enough to explain just by writing them out with their meanings but it’s by no means an extensive list. I’ve studied a few languages but I’m not a linguist so I just did my best.

If you want to go more heavy with the Cockney slang, I’ll leave it to someone who’s more familiar with it (or not… lol) to explain those terms and when to use them properly.

Section C: References

Of course, it’s all good and all that I’ve given you instructions but to make it sound natural, you’d need a point of reference. Here are some references of black North West Londoners from the early 80s, black East Londoners, black Londoners more generally and a Daniel Kaluuya interview so you can get a better feel of how we sound:

Clip from ‘No Problem’, the first Black British Sitcom

youtube

The accents within this one group of siblings is very varied and none of them use MLE, as per the time period. The two younger sisters have accents most similar to Hobie’s. The show follows a group of siblings of Jamaican descent living in a council house in North West London, first released in 1983.

Clips from ‘Chewing Gum’ by Michaela Coel [CW: they're awkwardly talking about sex in a lot of the clips + don't listen to Candice's boyfriend, Aaron, he's not from London lol]

youtube

The show takes place in Tower Hamlets, which is in East London and was first released in 2015. Tracy has a similar accent to Hobie and also uses a mix of more general/Cockney-influenced slang and MLE, so this one should both be a fun watch and be useful, you’ll also want to pay attention to Candice who has a more MLE lean to her speech.

Clips from the Foot Asylum crew most of them are MLE speakers, see some examples of our banter with friends lol

Clips from ‘Top Boy’

youtube

Another show that takes place in East London, this time in Hackney, which is an area known for being kind of rough in terms of gang activity. Almost all the characters speak exclusively MLE in this show. If you want to watch it, TW for violence and gang activity, death, etc. (18+). You can tell based on the ones I’ve chosen that Sully’s my favourite character lmao.

Fun fact, as you might hear the character, Dushane, reference, Sully lives on a canal boat for a while as a form of refuge. I know a bit about boat dwellers in London from a lecture at uni but if anyone wants me to do more research and do a post and explain the waterways and stuff, again, feel free to drop an ask and I’ll do it :)

Clip from ‘Love Island’ just pay attention to the black islanders, Tyrique and Whitney

youtube

I just finished watching this year's Love Island UK so I thought I’d throw the clip of Whitney, Lochan and Tyrique fighting in here lmao

& Daniel Kaluuya talking about Spiderpunk to bring us full circle✨

youtube

#hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #black british #writing advice #across the spiderverse #shui fic #shuinami

103 notes · View notes