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shockedemojiatsv · 17 days

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▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎

(Translation: New Milk)

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader

☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)

☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)

☆ short (I think???)

☆ author has played Not My Neighbor

°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°

You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.

The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).

Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?

What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,

"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"

Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!

When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.

You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.

"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"

He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.

"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."

The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.

After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.

Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.

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doctor-wombat · 2 years

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#second rant post of the night woot woot #sorry in advance if anyone reads this I don’t mean to be a downer #but I can’t stand myself and I need to get this out somewhere #it feels like it’s gonna swallow me whole #I just hate everything about me #why can’t I do even the basic things #why am I slipping on every aspect of my life right now #I’m trying so hard to keep it all together and to be better but it’s falling apart anyways #and I’m still the same piece of shit I’ve always been #it’s like no matter how hard I try to be better I just keep getting worse #becoming a worse person a worse friend and worse daughter #and like I can’t even take care of myself? I’m fucking pathetic #barely working and I’m so overwhelmed and stressed and can barely make plans #which is so pathetic people work way more without whining and carrying on like I do #i wish someone would just slap me #fucking deck me #maybe that would knock some of this self pity out of me #I have to stop wallowing I’m such a bitch why can’t I just DO things #fuck #tw: self hatred

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meangirls-imagines · 1 month

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'ELLO! I wanted to request something simple and angsty but turns into fluff. So basically R was getting bullied in highschool. At the time Regina and R were dating. R and her family got into a car crash. R faked her death after finding out her father passed after waking up in the hospital. Regina visits R grave and states how she's upset that R left her all alone. But when Cady arrives at Northshore. R popped back into town and waltzed into the cafeteria unannounced to Regina. Obviously R gets a slap to the face and a whole bunch of kisses from Regina. R says how she just had to get away from the bullies and Regina can't even be made at her.

Come Back To Me

Description: Reader loves Regina but hates North Shore. People bully her, even knowing who her girlfriend is. To make matters a lot worse, her and her dad are hit by a drunk driver, killing her dad. Reader wakes up in the hospital, heartbroken by the news. She decides to leave, leaving behind Regina, who believes her girl is dead. After a year supposedly "dead", Reader returns to North Shore, shocking everyone, including Regina.

WARNINGS: this is going to be a RIDE, angst with a happy ending, car crash, mention of death, sad regina, mentions of injury, regina slaps reader, fluffy towards the end i promise.

Life sucked for Y/N Y/L/N.

She was a freshman at North Shore High School and ever since middle school, she was mercilessly bullied by her classmates.

She was shoved into lockers on the daily, berated by football players, called slurs and derogatory names. The whole nine yards.

Y/N didn't have a reason to live, or at least that's what she thought. A ray of light entered her life towards the end of seventh grade.

That ray of light was Regina George.

Regina had defended her from a bunch of football boys when they had cornered Y/N after school. They had planned on jumping her but the blonde had stopped it, threatening to tell the principal and make their lives hell.

Since then, Regina hadn't let Y/N out of her sight. Even though the whole school knew not to mess with Y/N, that never stopped them. They just messed with her behind Regina's back. Y/N never told Regina, she didn't want to worry her.

When they got to high school, the bullying got worse. It got more physical. The jocks would always get Y/N when Regina or the plastics weren't around. They always made sure to not bruise somewhere that was visible.

The only one who knew about the bullying was her dad. He had gone to the principal and the school board but since he had no proof, they couldn't do anything. He had been the one to help Y/N with her bruises and injuries. He had been the one she ranted to.

He was her rock.

Nothing could prepare Y/N for what would happen to him.

It all happened so fast. They had gone out to dinner, her dad hoping to lift her mood. He had taken Y/N to her favorite Italian restaurant and taken her to ice cream after. They were waiting at a stoplight, singing loudly to her dad's favorite 80s rock. The light turned green, Y/N felt immense pain, and everything went black.

The next day, Regina walked into school looking at her phone worriedly. She hadst heard from Y/N since yesterday. The last text Y/N had sent her was that her dad was taking her out to dinner. She spotted Karen and Gretchen in the hall and approached them.

"Have you guys heard from Y/N?" The girls shook their heads but before they could speak, Principal Duvall came on the intercom.

"Can I have Regina George, Gretchen Wieners, and Karen Shetty to my office, please. Immediately."

The trio looked at each other confused and headed to his office.

Their parents were waiting for them.

All three girls felt numb listening to the words leaving Duvall's mouth.

Regina screamed as she felt her world collapse around her.

Y/N woke up a few days later, confused to her surroundings. She spotted her grandparents sitting next to her bed. The two burst into tears at the sight of their granddaughter awake. Her grandpa went to get the doctor as her grandmother gently kissed her head.

Y/N felt pain radiating through her body. Her head was wrapped in a thick layer of gauze, her arm was in a cast, as was her left leg. She felt bandages wrapped around her torso and her shoulder. Her mind was foggy so she asked her grandmother what happened.

Her grandmother's breath hitched as her grandpa returned with the doctor. The doctor had gone over the extent of her injuries, explaining that she was hit by a drunk driver.

Then, Y/N asked the question everyone was dreading.

"Where's my dad?"

Y/N's heart dropped and she became numb.

Regina walked up the familiar path, holding a bouquet of pink roses and carnations, her girl's favorite flower.

It had been almost two years since she lost the love of her life. She had felt numb ever since that day in Principal Duvall's office. She had become a shell of her former self. How could she go on? Her other half was dead.

The numbness was constant. She just went through the motions of each day. Get up, go to school, come home, cry, sleep, repeat. Her mom had put her in therapy to help her cope, but it wasn't working. Regina just went to get her mom off her back.

She finally made it to where she was going, gently putting the flowers on the grave.

"Hi baby. It's me again. I miss you more and more everyday. I wish you were still here with me. I never thought I would have to start a school year without you. We've always been together on the first day of school."

Regina sniffled, tears running down her face. "Karen and Gretchen miss you a lot. They miss their gossip buddy. They have so much to tell you. I miss your laugh. I miss your hugs. I miss your kisses. I miss everything about you baby."

She wiped her tears again. "They finally caught that guy that hit you and your dad. The bastard got life in jail. He can rot in hell for all i care." She sobbed quietly.

"It's so hard doing life without you Y/N. I don't think I can do it much longer. I just wanna be with you again. I just wish I could go back in time and change everything. You and your dad would be here." Her phone pinged. She looked down, seeing a text from her mom, informing her that Karen and Gretchen were at their house, ready for their annual first day sleepover.

She smiled and wiped her tears again. "That's my cue baby. I wish I could stay longer. I'll be back tomorrow to tell you all about it." She kissed her fingers and gently touched the stone. "I love you baby."

She walked away from the tombstone, heading to her jeep and heading home. Her, Karen, and Gretchen all cried together that night. They were not prepared for what was going to happen tomorrow.

Y/N woke up the next morning, feeling nervous. She was going back to North Shore. She had convinced her mom and stepdad to move back to the district. Her mom had called the school and explained everything to them, from the car crash to now.

The school was very understanding and got Y/N re-enrolled quite quickly. Her mom came into her room after she got dressed. "You ready, baby?" Y/N nodded and took a deep breath. "Mom? What if she's moved on?"

Her mom came and hugged her. "If she's moved on, she's moved on. Baby, she's been under the impression that you died, remember? She can't be faulted for moving on. But just know, that girl loved you so much. I don't think she's moved on, sweetie."

Y/N nodded and took another deep breath.

"Okay. Let's do this."

Regina walked into North Shore, Karen and Gretchen flanked behind her. They all walked to Regina's locker. Gretchen felt her phone buzz, indicating a text. "Ooh! We have a couple new students!" Her thumbs began typing back a reply as Regina smirked.

"New students? Interesting." The bell interrupted them as they all went their separate ways. Cady Heron was waiting in the office for her schedule when a girl came walking into the office. She shyly waved at the girl who smiled brightly back.

"Hi, I'm Cady Heron!"

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you, Cady."

The two chatted as the school secretary came with their schedules, the woman welcoming Y/N back to the school. Cady looked at her confused. "I thought you were new?" Y/N shrugged. "It's a long story. Let me show you where your homeroom is."

After showing Cady to her homeroom, she waltzed into her homeroom, the teacher barely sparing a glance at the girl. The students however, began talking, jaws dropped at the girl who apparently rose from the dead.

News spread like wildfire and by lunch, everyone was talking about it. When Regina sat down, Gretchen told her that everyone was saying a girl that looked just like Y/N was one of the new students. Regina scoffed. "Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. Y/N was one of one Gretchen."

The blonde stopped Gretchen from talking as she saw Cady walk into the cafeteria. Curiosity got the better of her as she called the girl over. She began to make small talk with the short girl, liking her already.

The conversation was cut short by Gretchen screaming. "OH MY GOD!" She got up and took off running to the newest student to walk into the cafeteria. Regina couldn't see who she was hugging but Karen could and also screamed before running in the same direction Gretchen did.

The blonde excused herself from the shorter girl to see what the ruckus was about. As she got closer, she froze in her tracks.

No. It couldn't be.

Regina's heart began to race as Gretchen and Karen pulled away from the stranger. Then, Regina made eye contact with familiar Y/E/C eyes.

Y/N.

The girl smiled at the blonde, her heart racing at seeing her girlfriend for the first time in a long time.

"Hi Gina." Regina shook herself out of her stupor, walking up to Y/N and slapping her. Hard. The cafeteria went silent and Y/N went to speak but was cut off by Regina's lips.

Regina felt her world become complete again as her and Y/N kissed for the first time in almost a year. Y/N could taste the saltiness of Regina's tears but she didn't care. She missed Regina.

The two kissed for a couple more minutes before Regina pulled away and placed kisses all over Y/N's face and burying her face in Y/N's neck.

"I thought I lost you. Don't EVER fucking do that again." Y/N smiled and kissed Regina's temple. "Never again baby. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." The plastics lead Y/N to their table to explain everything.

By the time Y/N was done explaining, the three girls were sobbing. Regina was clinging to Y/N's side. "I'm so sorry you went through that baby. But I'll never let it happen again. I'll protect you. I'm sorry I didn't do more baby." Y/N shook her head. "It's not your fault baby. The past is in the past. I'm here. Let's focus on the now."

The girls nodded, Regina gently kissing a scar on Y/N's cheek.

The bell rang and the girls reluctantly parted from Y/N, with the promise of seeing the couple after school. Regina didn't wanna let go, she didn't want it to be a dream. She offered to skip, which Y/N reluctantly went with, making sure to shoot her mom a text as to what was happening.

Regina led Y/N to her jeep, and drove to her house.

After a tearful reunion with Regina's mom, and a couple of rounds of "I missed you" sex, the two laid in bed in comfy clothes. Regina traced shapes on Y/N's stomach, her head laying on the girl's chest.

"I thought I lost you forever, baby. I never want go through that again." Y/N kissed Regina's head, pulling her closer. "I know baby. And I'm so sorry. But I'm not going anywhere ever again. You're stuck with me."

Regina giggled and kissed Y/N gently.

"I can live with that."

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024

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ceilidho · 9 months

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prompt: ex special forces ghost working as a “travel companion for hire” and reader hires him because she’s too nervous to go solo travelling

It’s not the first time you’ve been somewhere on your own, but it’s the first time you’ve realized that maybe solo trips aren’t for you.

It’s in Germany, three drinks in and stumbling back to your hotel room, paranoia gripping you every time you pass a dark alleyway or take a right onto a deserted street. It’s the man walking your way on the same side of the street that has you stuffing your hand into your purse, clammy fingers gripped tight around your keys.

On the flight home, you’re wiped. Beat. Finally untethered from a week’s worth of anxiety slowly reaching a boiling point. You’ve traveled on your own before, but it’s the first time you can remember being acutely aware of your vulnerability. Granted, before this trip, it’s not like you’d traveled all that much on your own, especially outside of the country.

Ghost comes as a recommendation from a friend of a friend. You’d hemmed and hawed about the whole ordeal the Monday after getting home from your trip—working the front desk at an auto-body shop means that there’s no shortage of people to talk to. The guy picking up his car (fender bender, a wicked crack down the front that’s since been fixed) listens to you gripe with an absent look on his face, but you’ve learned to tune those out. People will listen to you even in spite of their indifference when there’s nothing else to do.

“Y’know, I know a guy that does stuff like that,” he says, cutting you off halfway through another half-baked rant about airline fares these days. Your mouth puckers into something quizzical. Tell me more, it says without saying. “Ex-special forces. Left because of some medical thing, I think. Dunno. Anyway, he’s been all over the world—built like a brick shithouse, that one—and last I heard he was, uh, renting out his services.”

“Services?”

“Like, he’d go with you, hang back while you do your thing, but basically the muscle. There to back you up if someone fucks with you.”

You’re just fresh enough off your vacation (an entirely miserable week, lest you explain the whole thing all over again) to give him your number. He promises to put you in touch with the friend of a friend who’ll put you in touch with one Simon Riley. He then gives you shit about the price on his bill and you knock ten percent off begrudgingly because the piece of paper with your number written on it is still crumpled in his palm.

No good deed goes unpunished or whatever.

“He’s not actually in the country right now,” Laswell, the friend of a friend, explains over coffee, Biscoff cookies spread out on a little tea plate between the two of you. “Or the continent.”

“Where is he?”

“For the rest of the month? Indonesia. He’s supposed to be back on the ninth. Should I let him know that you’re interested in his services?”

It’s a toss up at first. The thought of sacrificing your dignity (he would be more or less your babysitter) for adventure is tricky. With the way the dates line up—when you plan on traveling and when he gets back to the UK—you also won’t have much time to make his acquaintance before setting off.

But there are places you want to go, sites you have scribbled down in a pocket-sized notepad folded up in the inner lining of your backpack. So you give her your permission and promise to join her and her wife for dinner sometime (repayment, and also it’s only been a few months since you moved, so you currently have a dearth of friends in your life anyway).

The first time you see him when he stops by your workplace, you can’t help the double take. It just doesn’t seem possible. You know from Laswell and the guy at the body shop that Ghost is ex-military, but you’d been expecting some buzz-cut, slightly smarmy army reserves guy, maybe six-foot and decently muscled. What you don’t expect is the tatted beast that’s near twice your size. Only the top half of his face is exposed, the rest hidden beneath a black mask; you think briefly of asking him about it, but chicken out under his withering stare.

He doesn’t seem impressed when he meets you. “What’s your list?”

“Um…just around Europe. I haven’t thought about it too much.”

He stares down at you. “You wanna hire me just to run around the continent?”

“I haven’t thought about it!”

“Well, best give it a think fast, doll. Haven’t got all day for you to figure it out.”

You do have to think fast. He doesn’t leave until you’ve spelled out exactly where you want to go, until he’s watched you book plane tickets over your shoulder, heavy at your back while sweat beads at the nape of your neck. He’s entirely too intimidating to be looming over you like that.

You watch him whip out his phone and fire off a couple of texts; your phone pings with an email telling you that you’ve been reimbursed for his flight and when you protest, he brushes you off by saying that he’ll invoice you for everything at the end of your trip.

Then what was promised falls into place. Free of burden, free of anxiety or restless energy, new possibilities open up to you: countries where you don’t speak the language; countries where the sites you want to see are spread out across a wide enough area that it warrants having a man packed beside you in a too-small taxi, his thigh a hot line against yours; hiking trips through national parks, where you don’t feel like you might slip down a hill and twist your ankle, stuck without water or cell service.

You only have two weeks worth of vacation, so you use them wisely. A week traveling across Switzerland and Austria, and then a week in Cairo to see the pyramids.

Ghost hangs back most of the time while you traipse around and do your own thing. You can feel him at your back when you approach the stands where the local vendors have set up shop, perusing silver trinkets and jewelry, only returning to your side when someone stands too close to you.

He fists a hand in a pickpocket’s shirt when they try for your purse, giving them a shake and sending them off.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you mutter in his direction as you watch the young man scurry away. Not sure if you’re blushing or sunburnt.

“You hired me to deal with this shit my way. Don’t get mouthy now.”

You think it might be the former because while you might not be the best at reapplying sunscreen, Ghost has been gentle-parenting you this whole trip. He pulls you off into corners and growls down at you while squirting a dollop of sunscreen into the palm of his hand to spread across your face. You close your eyes when his rough hands trace over your face and breathe out heavily when he spins you around, big hands engulfing your shoulders and spreading down your back.

You don’t think it could get worse. It gets worse.

He won’t spring for his own room. You stare at him in disbelief in the lobby of the two star hotel where you’ve booked a room with a single bed. There’s a vending machine in the corner of the lobby that only sells coke (all of the other buttons are broken). One of the ceiling lights flickers on and off, an ominous buzz filling the room. Ghost doesn’t so much as blink.

“You didn’t tell me—I didn’t know that was my job,” you rebuff, anxiety a fist in your throat. You’ve already asked the front desk for another room, but they’ve been sold out for weeks, the woman at the front desk informed you with no small amount of pity. It’s the busy season; even two-star hotels get booked up in the dog days of summer.

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Never had to before. My job isn’t to book shit.”

“I sent you my itinerary.”

“That’s not how I work, love. Where’s your room?”

It’s nothing short of humiliating to have him follow you back to your shabby little hotel room. Your hands shake when you unlock the door, opening it to something no bigger than a closet. You’d purposefully gotten a smaller room than you usually would, anticipating the cost of Ghost's invoice at the end of your trip. No good deed goes unpunished.

He ushers you into the room with a hand on your back, shutting the door behind him. You flick on the only light in the room, a bulbous thing hanging from the ceiling. No bedside lamp.

When he settles on the end of the only twin bed in the room, the bedframe groans under his weight. Your hands are already clammy. He’s already making himself at home, unbuckling his belt with a single hand; it makes you almost dizzy to look over at him so you try desperately to avert your eyes.

“At least wait until I’m in the other room,” you hiss, rifling through your suitcase faster to get your clothes for after your shower.

“Quit moping, love,” Ghost scolds, resting back on his elbows and toeing off his boots. “We’ll make it work. Just gonna have to get comfortable together.”

You scurry off to the bathroom with your pajamas clutched tight to your chest, paying no attention to the fact that he doesn’t sound as upset as you thought he might.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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doc-pickles · 5 months

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waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (pt. 4)

series masterlist

summary: Quinn brings you a surprise visitor

warnings: throwing up

a/n: another one. I have an IG post planned next! what do yall think it is? 👀 anyways enjoy!

xoxo nina

Your head is swimming as you lean against the cool tile of the bathroom floor, letting the sensation calm you slightly. The past few hours have been a nonstop struggle to keep anything in your body for more than ten minutes.

To say that your morning sickness was bad would be an understatement. You'd lost weight from your inability to eat and were absolutely exhausted most days. As you try and ground yourself you hear the front door of your apartment unlock and Quinn calls out for you.

“I brought some soup and more crackers,” Quinn says and you can hear him puttering around. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you groan from your spot on the bathroom floor. “I’ve been throwing up for two hours but besides that I’m swell.”

You’ve lived in Vancouver for almost a year now, moving after graduation for a job offer you couldn’t refuse. Quinn lives about ten minutes away which has been especially nice the past few weeks. He’s made it a habit to stop by regularly and check on you, making sure you’re eating and taking care of yourself.

“I brought something I grabbed at the rink too,” Quinn peaks his head into the bathroom and frowns. “You look awful. When was the last time you ate?”

Frustrated tears begin to well in your eyes as you look up at your oldest brother, “I can’t keep any food down, Quinn. I’ve been trying all day and it all just comes back up. I’m hungry and nauseous and exhausted and everything hurts.”

By the end of your rant, you're full-on sobbing on the floor of the bathroom, Quinn staring at you with wide eyes before he turns back to the living room, “This one’s all you, dude.”

You look up in confusion but quickly burst into more tears when Matthew appears in the doorway. Unlike Quinn, he wastes no time kneeling down and bringing you into his arms, “Hey it’s okay. I got you.”

“I’m all gross and sweaty and I’m sure there’s throw up on me somewhere,” you sniffle as you attempt to push Matthew off of you, but he simply holds you closer. “Matty-“

“Can I just hold you for a minute?” he asks as he fully pulls you into his lap. His hands rub soothing circles on your back and you take a slow steady breath as your cries grow quieter.

Your relationship with Matthew was… Interesting to say the least. You’d barely gotten a chance to talk on Thanksgiving, just outlining the basics like when you were due and what your next steps were. Even that seemed small compared to the growing to-do list in your mind.

To your surprise though Matthew had Facetimed you every night he didn’t have a game going. And when he was playing he’d send a text before and after, asking if you were watching or telling you about how the game went.

“You know,” you’d broached the subject a few weeks into your Facetime ritual. “Just because I’m having your baby and we’re… Married… Doesn’t mean you can’t date. Or whatever.”

You knew Matthew had a bit of a reputation and you wanted to make sure he knew you weren’t standing in the way of that. But he just chuckled as he smiled through the screen at you.

“I’m not looking for anything or anyone else. That’s not fair to you or to Baby T,” Matthew ran a hand through his hair before looking back to you. “Now tell me about your day.”

And the conversation had moved on, just like that. Neither you nor Matthew brought it up again.

“So,” Matthew’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked up at him with watery eyes. “How about lunch? And if you can’t keep it down I’ll hold your hair back.”

You agree, brushing your teeth before finding Matthew in your kitchen heating up some of the soup Quinn had brought. The Panthers are set to play the Canucks tonight but you hadn’t thought that Matthew would come to see you.

“Thanks for stopping by, I’ve been so sick lately that Quinn has been keeping me alive basically,” Matthew watches as you sit down at your breakfast nook and eat a few of the saltines Quinn had brought over. “I feel bad, I know he’s probably got a million other things to do that don’t include practically babysitting me.”

“Move to Florida.”

You pause, cracker halfway to your mouth as you stare at Matthew, “What?”

Matthew groans and settles his forehead against your kitchen cabinet, “That’s not how I wanted that to come out. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks.” Matthew looks over at you, meeting your eyes. “I’ve been so fucking worried about you and there’s not much I can do to help when you’re 3,000 miles away and in a different time zone. Trust me I’d move here in a heartbeat if I could but I figured that maybe… I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”

Matthew busies himself heating up your soup but you can’t help the tears that instantly well up in your eyes. Of course, you’d known him most of your life but the soft and sweet side that Matthew had shown you over the past few months was someone you didn’t recognize in the best way.

“Matty,” at the sound of your tears Matthew whips back around and takes a few steps back toward you.

“I’m sorry, seriously forget that I ever-”

“I want to move to Florida,” you whisper as Matthew wipes at your cheeks. “I’ll be closer to my parents and to Jack and Luke too and… And you. God, why am I fucking crying? All I do is throw up or cry and I hate it.”

Matthew chuckles as he pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you gently, “S’okay, I don’t mind the crying. I’m just glad you won’t be so far away and that I can take care of you two.”

A small ‘thank you’ is all you can force out before you start crying again, Matthew squeezing you close as you let your tears fall. You sniffle a little before you pull back and meet his gaze, pointedly ignoring the loving look he’s giving you, “Can we get cheeseburgers?”

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Matthew chuckles as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I wasn’t but the baby really wants a cheeseburger,” you mutter, grinning widely when Matthew breaks out into loud peals of laughter. “Hey don’t laugh at them!”

“I’m not, promise,” Matthew’s laughter dies down as his hand settles on your hip, rubbing circles into the skin. His fingers brush the side of your bump and you take his hand to move it full onto the small swell of your stomach.

“Bump kind of popped out this week,” you smirk at Matthew’s bewildered expression, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested. “That’s our baby.”

When Matthew looks back up at you, you freeze. His expression is full of… Something. You don’t want to say love but it’s the closest thing you can think of.

The microwave chirps behind you and whatever moment you and Matthew were lost in is gone. He moves to put the soup back into the fridge before grabbing his wallet off the counter.

“Okay, cheeseburgers for baby mama,” Matthew looks at you with his signature grin. “Where to?”

“McDonald’s,” you say as you grab your sweatshirt off the couch. “And don’t call me baby mama.”

“I could call you wifey.”

“Baby mama is fine.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nina writes

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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hyuckmov · 1 year

Text

haechan — just for you

boyfriend!haechan x afab reader 1.6k, smut, minors dni, some fluff warnings: light dom/sub themes (haechan as dom), slight dumbification, fingering (f recieving), some aftercare, some subspace, haechan is a terms of endearment kind of guy, overuse of the word baby a/n: idk everyone...SORRY if this is what no one was expecting i have other works otw with no smut but i was just feeling kind of ~stressed~ so i wrote this. it's basically completely smut so minors dni please! first time writing something like this i hope it's at least kind of hot LOL anyway do leave an ask or reply if you enjoyed this <3 other pg works on the way i PROMISE

“you need to relax, babe.”

haechan reaches over and plucks the keys from your fumbling hands. slotting them easily into the door, he holds it open for you as you storm in, still fuming.

“i have no idea who that guy thinks he is. how am i going to do this paper with him? who’s going to tell him that diminishing romeo and juliet to a cheap love story about two idiot kids completely undermines the point Shakespeare was trying to make to us? i mean, the characterisation, and the development…”

“you’ll tell him sweetheart, i’m sure.”

flinging your bag onto the chair, you grab your many binders and folders and lay them out on the table. fishing your well-worn copy of romeo and juliet out onto the table, you thumbed through your annotations. you couldn’t believe your classmate, who thought he was better than the whole class, had picked another fight with you just as class was about to end, with one of his horrible horrible takes.

“you know, maybe he’s a little in love with you.”

your head snaps up. “what?”

haechan lounged easily on the couch. somewhere between the front door and the living room he had taken off his large hoodie, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt and ripped jeans. his legs spread haphazardly, he propped his head up with a hand, eyes fixed on you. “i mean, it reminds me a little of how we got together. us arguing all the time…you finding reasons to talk to me in the hallway to call me out for something…”

you had tuned out what he was saying, just a little bit. you loved those ripped jeans, and the way his legs seemed to stretch on for miles…

looking at the dazed expression on your face, haechan bit back a smile. “y/n? earth to y/n?”

shaking your head to bring yourself out of it, you look back at your book. “sorry, what were you saying?”

“i was saying…”, enjoying this immensely, haechan played with the rips in his jeans, tugging at the fabric. “maybe he’s just trying to get your attention.”

“or maybe he just doesn’t understand the reading.” you scowled. “you know, he dismissed gender roles as important to the context of the play. it’s just so infuriating when he’s going at it from such a limited perspective, this lack of sensitivity to the nuances and dismissals of whatever he deems unimportant from his contemporary views…”

unbeknownst to you, haechan’s mind was beginning to wander as he continued to fix his gaze on yours. he loved it when you would talk academic, loved it when you got competitive. those passionate rants on anything from literature to bioengineering always made you look sexy to him. his eyes take in your flushed cheeks, your hair coming undone from the ponytail, the tightness of your pencil skirt and the way your chest heaved up and down.

“baby,” he called softly. turning around to face him, he opened his arms. “put down your book and come here.”

sighing, you set down your study materials and walked over to your boyfriend. as you got ready to settle down on his lap, he shook his head, and maneuvered you until you were straddling him. brushing the hair out of your eyes tenderly, he began to kiss down the side of your neck.

“haechan,” you whisper. he hums against your skin, and you feel chills running down your spine. “i really need to go finish my paper.”

“it can wait, can’t it baby?” pulling away, he looks at you, his eyes dark. “that pretty little head of yours needs a break from all that thinking.”

because haechan thought you were irresistible when you were clever, if only because he knew he was the only one who could make your brain go empty.

slipping his hands under the hem of your skirt, his fingers snake their way around the back of your thighs.

"haechan, what are you doing?"

"trying to make you feel good. is it working?" his boyish smile spreads across his face, and you practically swoon.

you’re beginning to feel hazy, whimpering slightly as he leans forward to kiss you deeply, swallowing all your sounds. you let out a moan when his fingers brush over your core, and you can feel him smile into the kiss.

“you okay, y/n?”

not knowing what to say, no longer able to find the words for it, you are completely enveloped in your boyfriends hands and his perfume. letting out a whine and hoping it would suffice, you push yourself further into his hold.

“mmm, i can’t understand that baby.” he laughs, and the sound vibrates against you.

“please.”

“please what?”

his hands make their way back down your skirt and come up to hold you at your hips. the lack of warmth makes you squirm, and you push yourself against him again. “haechan….”

“what’s wrong, baby?” he pulls your face away from his neck, and although his tone is sweet and soothing, the way he licks his puffy lips is completely sinful. “thought you wanted to talk about the…characterisation, was it?”

“the what?”

he grins at that. “your paper?” slowly, you blink up at him, lost. “babe, i’ve just kissed you a little. lost your mind already?”

his words were a nice muddle of sounds, but what you did know, and what you could feel, was his hard-on, pressing against your thigh through his jeans. “mmh,” you mumble, absentmindedly, as you begin to grind against him.

letting out a moan, he throws his head back, and you melt at the way his eyes roll into the back of his head. but soon, he refocuses, and grabs your hips. “baby, wait. i’m in charge right now.”

struck, you halt your movements. “okay” you say, in a small voice.

“good girl,” he sighs, bringing one hand to your core again while the other strokes the small of your back. he makes shushing sounds at you as your thighs quiver and your lip begins to wobble. pulling your panties to the side, he brushes his fingers against the lips of your pussy. “fuck, you’re so wet. ”

“haechan-”

“shhhh…” he slips a finger inside, continuing to shush you as you let out a moan. “how does it feel, baby?”

“it hurts.” your mind has gone completely fuzzy, except for the man in front of you, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth hanging slightly open, breaths coming quick with lust. “it hurts haechan.”

“where does it hurt, baby? be a good girl and tell me.”

“i don’t know.” you shake your head, trying to clear it, but he chooses that moment to add another finger, angling them deep inside you.

“there? does it feel better now?” you nod, but then you shake your head, because you want more. he pouts at you, sweetly, but somewhere in the haze of your mind you can see that he’s putting on an act. he knows exactly what you want, and he’s dangling it just out of your reach.

“i don’t know what you mean,” he pouts, and withdraws his fingers. you whine, as he sucks on them, not breaking eye contact the whole time. “it’s okay, let’s try that again, okay baby?” he slides them past your entrance, and curls them against your walls, “does this feel good,” he stops his movements, and spreads his fingers apart instead, scissoring motions stretching you out. “or this?”

“both,” you nod, eagerly.

he clicks his tongue at you, and shakes his head, slowly. “pick one.”

you blink at him, the movement of his fingers dominating your entire mind. you just don’t want him to stop. “the first one.”

“whatever my baby wants.” he presses his palm to your clit to rub slow, heavy circles. “are you going to cum?”

you moan. you’ve given up on verbal answers entirely, lost in the haze of pleasure. burying your face in his neck, you bite and lick at the skin, as he hums satisfactorily. “haechan, wanna, gonna…”

“go for it, baby,” he whispers, quickening the movement of his hand. you begin to rut against him, riding his fingers. “you’re just mine aren’t you? bet your classmate would kill to see you like this, all fucked out and dumb over my fingers.” you cry out, your hands grasping his shoulders desperately, your hips moving as if they had a mind of their own.

he lets out a growl, his hand on your back coming up roughly to untuck your blouse from your skirt, as he shoves a hand up to palm your chest over your bra. “come. now.” blubbering, a moan of pretty half-words and swears come tumbling out as you reach your climax, his fingers relentless against your clit and inside of you, riding out your high until you slump down against him, spent and tired.

haechan removes his fingers from you, licking them clean as he looks down at you fondly. gathering up your limbs, he strokes your hair to comfort you as you come down from your high, and the fog in your head slowly clears.

“baby? are you with me?”

“mmh,” idly, you blink up at him.

“okay, maybe not yet.” he chuckles, smiling to himself at how cute you could be. “you’ve been so good for me today. the best girl.” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

preening at the praise, you press against him. “wait, haechan-” you sit up suddenly, and his hands go to your waist to steady you.

“what is it, baby?”

“you’re still hard.” you begin to fumble with his belt. “wanna make you feel good.”

swatting your hands away gently, he holds them in his and places a light kiss to your fingertips. “no, baby. you can make me feel good later. you have a paper to write.”

your face falls. “a paper?”

he smiles. “it’ll come to you soon.” he’s so proud that he’s the one that gets to make you fall apart this way, the one version of you that no one else gets to see. “come on, baby. let’s go take a bath.” carefully, he scoops you up in his arms, and heads for the bathroom.

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #nct smut #haechan scenario #haechan imagine

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