#!!!!!!!!!! i don’t even know my brain has been running in circles for the past two weeks I need to take it out of my skull and let it air o

[re-decorate]

guys.

[back2bluesidex]

Heeled Boots - JHS (18+)

Pairing: Hoseok X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, established relationship au

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Summary: A little something about Hoseok's heeled boots from MAMA 2022.

Warnings: boot riding (you read that right), dom!hsoeok, slight degrading, she calls him Mr. Jung, cock riding, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: been a minute since I have written anything for the love of my life.

“I…. Like these…” Your words evaporate in the thin air, partly because you can’t even focus on what you are saying, partly because the words come out of your mouth without your consent. 

“These?” Hoseok wiggles his boot-cladded feet. His eyes go a little wide at your sudden confession. 

“Mmmm..” you reply absent-mindedly - eyes never leaving his heeled boots. 

“Should I get a pair of matching ones for you?” he proposes lovingly, his long arms secure around your waist even more tightly as he subtly pulls you towards him. 

“Ah- no. I mean I like these on you. These are kinda- I don’t know - hot? Irritatingly so? Makes me wanna ride these?” you ramble without hearing yourself properly. 

At first Hoseok tries to register what you are saying but when his ears send each of your words to his brain, his blood rushes south. At once his cock starts twiching inside the shiny leather outfit that has been chosen for his MAMA performance. 

“Then do it.” He suggests slowly, voice already dipping by an octave. 

Your eyes shoot up. You have been zoning out for the past half an hour, especially because Hoseok’s outfit and his heeled boots have been too much to take for you. He looks so breathtakingly hot that your brain.exe has stopped responding long ago. 

You gulp at his suggestion. Not that you haven’t been thinking about asking him to take you then and there but his performance is scheduled within 45 minutes and you definitely don’t want to exhaust him now. 

Moreover, there are a ton of people running behind these closed doors. The last thing you want is to get caught. 

“We can’t.” you mumble, throat getting dry already. 

“That’s not a choice now, baby. You gotta take responsibility for your words.” Hoseok places his free hand on your thigh, gliding it up towards your crotch painfully slowly. 

“But your per- ah” Hoseok pinches on the meat of your thigh, pain shoots on your skin even through the rough material of your jeans. 

“Take your jeans off, baby.” your boyfriend orders. Even though the sentence is simple, it comes out as a low growl. And you know it’s better not to disobey him. 

So you do as you’re told. You stand up on your legs and start unbuttoning your jeans.

Hoseok’s eyes rake through your thighs and get stuck on the wet patch of your red cotton panties. 

He smirks, “Such a whore.” 

“For you.” you add to stroke his ego. 

His hand circles around your left wrist as he pulls you towards him dangerously close, so much so that you can feel his breath on your belly. 

His free hand hooks on the waistband of your panty, he dips one finger inside, plunges that inside your folds. 

Your breath shudders at the touch of his cold finger. 

Pulling that finger out, he puts it into his mouth. His eyes close as he hums at the taste. 

Your boyfriend’s action makes a pool of hotness gush out of your hole.

“This has to go too” Hoseok eyes your panty again. Knowing what to do, you strip it off. 

“Good girl. Now rub that greedy cunt on my boot.” he wiggles his foot again. He sits cross legged to hike his right leg in the air. 

You lick your lips. Fuck you are perched. 

When you stand still, without obeying his command - Hoseok’s face darkens. He raises one of his eyebrows as if to threaten you. 

You show your obedience without thinking anymore. 

You squat, hands grabbing the edges of the sofa for support. Your folds come in contact with the tip of Hoseok’s heeled boot. You inhale sharply. 

You know squatting like this won’t be enough, so you part your pussy lips with two of your fingers, letting your clit grind against his boot. 

“Rub it.” Hoseok orders again. His eyes pierce through your already watery ones as he sits there casually. 

There is no change in his posture, not even a single limb of his body is tensed - unlike yours. 

You start moving your hips in circles. At first lightly but then when your body starts asking for more and more friction - your grinds get harder as well.  

Your breaths are now short and ragged. Hoseok’s shiny boots turn even more shiny with your arousal over the tip. 

Your legs threaten to give up but the coil in your stomach has just started to tighten. You can’t give up now - you won’t give up now. 

As if reading your contorted face and rigid body language, Hoseok winds a hand around your bicep and starts pulling you up. 

“Hoseok I-” 

“Is that what you should call me?” Hoseok interrupts, glaring at you through his dark locks. 

“I’m sorry. Mr. Jung.” you correct yourself hastily. 

“Good girl.” he mutters, pulling you down on his lap, “take me out.” 

Your mind runs wild. You are really getting to fuck him when he looks this hot? Such a lucky girl you are. 

Your hands find the button of his leather trouser as you walk your way through the garment and pull his semi hardened length out. 

You pump it until his cock is hard enough for your cunt to swallow. Hoseok groans, rests his head on the backrest of the sofa. 

“Can I ride you, Mr. Jung?” you ask him sheepishly.

“Yes, baby. Go ahead.” he permits a little breathlessly. 

You line his cock on your entrance, the tip nudges your clit making you moan. Once his cock is lined, it isn’t tough to slide down. 

Once he is rooted inside your velvet walls, you start moving. 

Hoseok sometimes think that his cock was made for your hole because he has never fucked anyone who could swallow his cock as good as you. 

He loves it. He loves you. 

He eyes the spot where his shaft is disappearing in your wet heat. Then his eyes fall on your face, the satisfaction is clearly written on your pretty features. 

Your little melodic sounds are making it tough for him to restrict his own sounds of pleasure. So he grabs you by your neck and seals your lips with yours. 

The kiss is as hungry as his cock. 

Your energy starts running low when your walls start clenching around his cock. Your legs really can’t take it anymore. 

“Mr. Jung, I can’t- h-help me.” Your voice breaks. Hoseok understands what you are asking for right away and wraps his hand tightly around your waist. 

He thrusts up, slapping his torso on your downside. 

It takes only three thrusts for your release to wash over you - you cream his cock. 

“Gonna cum inside you. Can’t ruin the outfit.” he speaks into your mouth. You nod agreeing to his proposition. 

Two more thrusts later, Hoseok cums in you. 

Both of you stay still, mouths wet with the messy kiss, breathe too heavy to calm yourselves down. 

“Noona, I’m taking these home.” Hoseok points at the black shiny heeled boots that are now kept inside a pretty looking leather box. 

“Oh? But those are sponsored. We have to return those.” the stylist stops what she was doing. Confusion evident in her face. 

“Don’t worry. I will take care of it.” Hoseok replies before he leaves the room. You can’t help but smile as you follow him outside. 

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi

[gothamstreetcat]

Thank you to my lovely internet pal @kyliafanfiction for proofing this for me! <3

mundane things (and a crossword puzzle)

The sun shines perfectly bright through the large window above Wesley’s bed - where he and Lilah have been fooling around for much of the morning. Their bodies are naked, their clothes decorating the floor of the bedroom in various heaps. Their nightly routine was bleeding further and further into the daytime. 

“I’m really late,” Lilah stresses, rubbing her nose gently against Wesley’s. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she isn’t too worried about missing her morning meeting. “And in my line of work, they won’t just give me a stern talking to.” She remains pressed against him regardless, keeping the sheets that are half covering them warm. He can feel her heart beating against his and every time it causes him to wonder if what’s happening between them is a little too real. If things have gone more beyond just having sex.

Wesley raises his eyebrows, bringing a hand up to trace the curves of her back. Holding her closer if it’s even possible, to convince her not to go away. “Well, if you’d like I could give you a stern talking to.” She laughs in such a tender way and he almost doesn’t register the flutter in his chest over the excitement of her squeal when he pinches her arse.

“You could but…” she removes her body from his and the air suddenly feels a little cold, even as she settles beside him - stretching her limbs. She brings her hand up to trace the scars on his chest and he wonders if her manicure shadowing imaginary patterns on his skin is her way of knowing what’s between them is real. “With that accent of yours? I think we both know where that leads.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he remarks, tracing his fingers up her arm. His thumb outlines small circles against her shoulder and she closes her eyes. “I don’t suppose there ‘s any way I could convince you to stay?” The sound of his voice aches with something he can’t quite understand.

Lilah smiles as she leans in and kisses him gently. “Why? You missing me already?”

She pulls away from him after a beat or two and props her head up by her elbow. They stare into the other’s eyes for a second, then two, three and so on. Lilah looks deeply at him like she’s searching for the answer. Something about the eyes being the window to the soul or whatever. And normally, he’d be put off and uncomfortable by another person’s eyes drilling into his, but things feel different somehow with Lilah. He doesn’t feel as though he has to turn away or look past her for a moment of relief. Instead, he feels some type of pull, to reach over and trace the shape of her face. Run his thumb over her sharp jaw and into the dip of her chin. He imagines she would lean into him like a cat wanting to be petted. 

He knows she wants him to admit it, say the words out loud, that he wants her to stay. She wants to know what he’s really thinking inside that big brain of his. But the words remain stuck in his throat, unable to be articulated on his tongue that now feels thick. The feeling is painful, creating a burning sensation in his throat.

Lilah, somehow sensing this, bites her lip. She leans over the bed, her head disappearing out of view. After a few seconds of listening, Wesley knows she’s digging around in her pocketbook. A few moments later she reappears with her phone in her hand. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says looking at him with all too familiar mischievous eyes and a grin before crawling overtop him again. “I’ll stay, but you have to tell Gavin for me.” 

Wesley doesn’t even think much about it before taking the phone from her fingers. She already has several missed calls and voice messages from work that he imagines are not pleasant. Then again, he thinks no one would dare be daft enough to send Lilah a voicemail the least bit unpleasant. He sees Gavin in her recents and rings the number. 

The trill of the phone sounds only once before Gavin answers. By the look on Lilah’s face, it’s clear she can hear the panic in his voice over her absence and it pleases her in a wicked sort of way. 

Wesley hardly registers anything he says before cutting him off. “I’m sorry Gavin, but Lilah won’t be in today. She’s still in bed,” he says, “and I suspect she doesn’t plan to be  leavening anytime soon. She assures me though that you’ll be able to handle everything. Best of luck.”

He doesn’t bother hearing Gavin’s response before he closes the phone and tosses it to the side, not bothering to see where it lands. 

“Well done,” Lilah commends. 

He leans up and kisses her passionately, taking her in his arms as she squeals against his tight embrace. 

They spend another hour in bed followed by a twenty minute shower that Lilah assures is for the sake of not wasting water. 

Wesley emerges from the bathroom followed by a remnant of heat and steam from the shower. He’s running a towel through his hair which has grown a little longer in the past months, beginning to curl at the ends. He leans against the doorway as he watches Lilah, who has picked through his drawers for clothes. She’s wearing one of his old Watcher shirts - white and a little wrinkled - as she slides on a pair of his boxers. Half the buttons are undone and even without his glasses and the distance between them, he still gets a good look at her breasts.

She catches him watching her. “Don’t worry,” she winks. “You can wear mine.”

If I can find them , he thinks, his eyes scanning the floor that’s covered in various articles of clothing. Not all of them are from the night before.

It seems very natural for her. Comfortably picking through his drawers and pulling out his things. Making jokes, unashamed about what they’re doing. He wonders how long they’re going to keep up this charade. How long it’s going to last without trying to picture how it’s going to end. He wonders if things have gone too far and ultimately decides they probably have. They’ve been doing this for months and it’s undeniable that each day Lilah Morgan gets a little closer in his life. A little closer to his heart. 

She steps towards him with grace, kisses his cheek and pats him on the arse before swaying out of the room. He watches her every step and the view of her movement does things to his mind.  

When she’s gone he finds a pair of pants and a t-shirt that hasn’t been worn to hell. Even though he’s showered he can still smell faint traces of Lilah on his skin, his clothes, and in his room. He starts stripping the bed sheets. Sheets that smell so much like her. Lotion with the faint aroma of roses and Chanel perfume.

There is a blouse that smells just the same that she tucked into his pillow some time ago. He leaves it, taking just the pillow case instead and their dirty clothes. In the hallway he has a stacked washer and dryer that occupies its own cupboard and he throws everything in before starting it. 

When he’s done with the laundry he goes into the living room where he can hear Lilah cooking from the kitchen. It’s an open floor plan, the kitchen having its own little corner neighboring the dining table. He leans against the archway that semi-divides the kitchen from the rest of his flat. The room smells strongly of sausages and coffee. 

He watches Lilah as she stands over the stove tending to a pan of sausage and scrambled eggs. Bread was sticking out of the toaster, waiting to be toasted until they popped. There was some water boiling in a kettle and beside that, one of his tea pots and a cup. Coffee was dripping strongly from a machine Wesley once worried would no longer have any purpose to him, but Lilah seems to make good use of it. 

Lilah has made good use of everything in his life. 

A small smile forms on Wesley’s lips. 

He turns from her without a word. Goes to the front door and makes his way to the lobby where he finds the morning paper waiting outside for him. By the time he brings it up Lilah is setting the dining table he also thought would not get much attention. She walks back between the kitchen and table, bringing napkins, silverware, jam for the toast, some butter, salt and pepper shakers, her mug of coffee and his pot of tea. 

“Sit down,” she says, pouring his steeped Earl Grey into a cup. The way she says it makes it seem obvious: sit down because we’re going to eat breakfast like we do every morning. 

He takes his place at the head of the table, his mouth upturned in a smile of surprise.  Shortly after Lilah comes carrying two plates full of the prepared breakfast foods. 

“Thank you,” he says, setting the plastic wrapped paper aside. “It looks lovely.” 

For a moment he sits still, unsure how to proceed. They don't do this. He can’t even remember that last time he had breakfast - let alone a proper meal. And where the hell did the cloth napkins come from? It dawns on him Lilah might know his own apartment better then himself at this point. 

He watches Lilah spread jam on her toast and add salt to her eggs. She stops, stares at him. 

“Is something wrong?” she asks. “Do you not like eggs? Or eat sausage? Or, anything really,” she teases, “because I would believe that.”

“Lilah…” he wants to argue but he isn’t sure what to say. She’s not entirely wrong. 

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you eat anything…” she forks a bit of eggs into her mouth. “Well except…”

“Lilah…” he reaches over and touches her arm before she finishes saying something that is sure to make his face turn red. “It’s fine. I’m just…” he isn’t quite sure how to explain how ridiculously hard it is for him to function like a normal person. How, the last time he actually sat down and ate real food with people was now so far away and so tainted. “It’s lovely,” he repeats. 

“Well, “ she continues, “I just felt after the night we had we could probably use it.” She winks.

“Right,” he agrees, letting her go and picking up his fork. He mimics Lilah until he feels comfortable. A bite of eggs following a sip of coffee - her eyes staring longingly outside the window. 

They eat quietly. Their utensils scrape against the plates and their cups cause gentle sound waves to bounce off the wood of the table. They can hear the traffic from below. There was a faint ticking from one of the clocks somewhere in Wesley’s flat. 

Some time passes, and eventually Wesley removes the newspaper from its plastic wrap; waiting for Lilah to make some snarky comment about how no one gets the paper anymore. She doesn’t, but when he looks over she’s got a funny smile on her lips. She’s definitely making fun of him. 

He folds open the front page to Los Angeles’s latest upheaval. A headline about the capture of a mass serial killer the police had been tracking for weeks. He’s claiming “the devil made him do it,” and if Wesley hadn’t spent his entire life going against the forces of evil, he might have been cynical about it. Beside it, a column about a bus accident; one dead and five others injured. There was also a small column about Wolfram & Hart but Wesley only skimmed it.

Another column seemed somewhat promising, talking about the possibility of vampires being real, but the further Wesley read into the paragraphs the less interested he became. To think, he’d spent his entire life being a watcher and studying vampires, helping slayers and all for some hack who probably still lived in his father’s basement to be spreading misconceptions about vampires. 

At the bottom of the page there was a small ad for Angel Investigations which he barely glanced at. 

The following pages consisted of more deaths, - nothing he could blame in Lilah's employers - the latest sports news and local politics; and pictures of the newest Hollywood stars and movie reviews which he would pull out later for Lilah. There was a snippet about motorcycles and the dangers of riding them. How you should always wear a helmet and obey traffic laws - something Wesley both understood and respected. 

He folded the news up and put it back beside him, his eyes starting to strain. He picked up his tea, something that had been a long comfort for him. It’s still warm. 

He looked over at Lilah with her bare legs crossed, sipping her coffee and half a piece of toast still on her plate. 

“Nice view,” she motions her mug towards the window. He’s never really noticed it before. 

“Nice day,” he adds, spreading some strawberry jam onto his toast. “Fancy a ride later,” he takes a bite. It’s something Lilah’s been asking about for quite some time. 

“On your motorcycle?” 

“Mhm,” he takes a bite of his toast and follows it with hot tea. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lilah with a huge smile on her face.

“Well Pip Pip and Cheerio for me!” she exclaims, tapping her spoon on the edge of her coffee mug. Wesley nearly chokes on his tea, the hot water coming down his chin and onto the table. He laughs harder than he has in such a long time. 

“Lilah,” he says, trying to get a hold of himself. She’s laughing too, no doubt a reaction to his own hysterics. He grabs her arm, “that is not what that means.”

“Well what does it mean,” she’s still grinning, the last bits of laughter bubbling from her throat. 

“It means “farewell”,” he corrects. 

She shrugs, an innocent mistake. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he remarks, turning his attention back to the paper, though he’s hardly thinking about the LA news now. 

“I’m ridiculous? I once saw a video of you pretending to be James Bond while doing the most absurd strip tease I've ever seen in my life. Sorry Pryce,” she said slightly mocking him but with a gentle smile, “secret’s out.”

Wesley nearly chokes on his tea again, his face flushed with shock that soon simmers into embarrassment. 

“Hey, no worries,” Lilah reassures him, patting his leg. “It was very entertaining.”

He gives her a polite smile against the panic he’s now wrestling with in his heart, remembering how embarrassing that video tape had been. It felt silly to still be embarrassed and ashamed of how he used to be - even though that man was dead now. He had been embarrassed of himself back then and felt to curse Angel ever so slightly under his breath before he remembered his betrayal. 

“Hope it wasn’t for your girlfriend. Virginia was it?” 

“And why’s that?” He asks, trying to regain some composure. 

She leans closer with a feline grin. “Because I like to pretend it was for me.” She pinches his thigh and something about the gesture makes him want to grab her hand and pull her into his lap even if he isn’t sure if she’s being genuine or not. 

Wanting to change the conversation, he flips through the paper for the crossword which he gently tears out for Lilah. It pleases her, which he knows because he’s caught her several times in the early hours of the morning curled up at his desk filling out the grey squares. 

She jumps from the table and goes to find a pen. There is a clattering in the kitchen and  seconds later she returns, beginning to fill the paper out with ease. Wesley knows anything relating to the law or TV shows and movies she knows in a snap.

There is more silence until seemingly out of nowhere Lilah reaches out to him. 

“Hey Wes,” her voice sounds like it’s aching with some sort of deep regret. “About all that stuff I said, about you being Judas Iscariot… I was just trying to get under your skin.”

Wesley smiles slightly and wonders if this is one of her tricks. He turns her hand over and runs his thumb back and forth along a faded scar. Almost as if his betrayal to Angel was a burden they both shared. “No,” he muses, “you were right. I betrayed Angel. I’m sure he would agree with you as well.”

“Still, you thought you were doing the right thing,” she says, repeating herself from a time before. 

“Seems to happen a lot doesn’t it?” He turns blankly to the paper, thinking about all those times he’d fucked up. The lines of ink just blur together and he starts to feel lightheaded. 

“What does?” Her fingers close against his thumb. 

“Me, thinking I’m doing the right thing but ultimately screwing everything up and being a failure.” There was a pause. Lilah was silent. “You’ll get used to it.” 

“I just don’t want you to torture yourself about it,” she squeezes his hand before pulling it away. “That’s all.”

Wesley raises one of his eyebrows at her. “I thought you liked a little torture,” he remarks. 

“Only if I’m the one doing it. Or Angel, depending…” She starts running one of her toes along his leg. No doubt trying to lull him back to their current affairs. “And you’ve never disappointed me.” She’s got a wicked grin on her face. The one Wesley finds himself drawn to. 

Wesley scoffs, pinching the paper down to look at her. “That’s only because I think you get more out of this than I do.” He knows she’s going to respond with something sexual, it’s their pattern. 

“This what?” she taunts, bringing both her long legs up and resting them comfortably on his lap. They have a bet going. Should one of them be foolish enough to call their relations together a relationship , would then own the other person a dollar. Lilah’s money was on Wesley to crack first.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he sets the paper down and runs his hand along her calf. 

“A relationship,” she answers. 

His hand stops at her knee and Wesley looks at her, stunned. 

“Another word for liaison,” she clarifies. “Nine down. Twelve letters,” She etches it into the paper, and Wesley throws her legs off of him. 

“ An illicit sexual one at that,” he mutters into his cup. 

There is more quiet between them. Wesley sipping his tea and Lilah her coffee - clicking the pen and tapping down words onto the newspaper clipping. When Wesley looks up from the photographed carnage he sees Lilah with her feet tucked up in the chair chewing the top of the pen and for a moment he thinks he likes this better than the sex. Just sitting here in almost complete silence, watching Lilah in the natural Los Angeles glow; her hair tucked neatly behind her ears and her diamond earrings gleaming in the sunlight. 

He smiles, perhaps without meaning to but he somehow can’t help it; and it takes only a second for Lilah to catch him. She stops chewing, stares, and instead of taunting him, smiles back. 

Screw it, he thinks. 

He reaches over and pulls Lilah’s chair a little closer to him before scooping her into his arms. She submits easily and without hesitation, complaints, or protests - throwing her arms around his neck. 

Wesley kisses her gently and passionately. It’s the only thing he knows. His mouth on hers, their tongues slow moving. He knows the feeling of her body relaxing into his, hearing the sound of the pen dropping and the comforting feel of her fingers in his hair. They could stay this way forever. 

But Lilah pulls away after a comfortable amount of time. She bites her lip and presses her forehead against Wesley’s. “You made me drop the pen.”

“Should we just go back to bed?” His eyes were closed. Lilah’s fingers were still mingling gently in his hair. He thinks he feels Lilah swaying them ever so slightly from side to side but he isn’t entirely sure.

“It depends,” she murmurs. “What’s a word for “as the best of its kind?” 

“Parexcelence,” he replies, opening his eyes. Lilah is smiling deeply at him. 

She gives him one final kiss before leaving him cold and retrieving the pen. When she returns she settles back onto his lap, back facing him. He settles his chin in the dip between her neck and shoulder as he watches her fill out the squares. His arms lay around her waist in a comfortable embrace.

His eyes scan the clues of the crossword. Eight down, the vampire slayer. He thinks of Buffy. The clue above it says, a woman who practices occult magic and he thinks of Willow, wondering if maybe The Powers are trying to tell him something. But then his eyes fall on nineteen across, author of the Divine Comedy . Lilah already has it filled in, no doubt, what prompted her earlier apology. 

She fills out twenty-two across while pressing her cheek into his. Manipulation of a sort. Mindgames. He wonders if that’s what they’re doing, but he figures you can still play those sorts of games while being affectionate with someone. Maybe even in love. 

After a few more minutes Lilah mostly has the puzzle filled out with the exception of one word. She pushes it away from them before he can get a good look at the final clue.

“Do you want to go see a movie today?” Lilah loves movies. Her hands reach for the paper and find the movie selections. The first one being the new Star Wars he was intending on seeing with Gunn, though, that obviously wasn’t going to be happening anymore. Even still, it’s the first movie Lilah suggests and Wesley’s glad her back is to him so she can’t see the conflict in his eyes.

Her finger runs under another movie title. “What about Signs? It’s got aliens in it, and I hear it’s supposed to be funny. Might even get you to laugh.”

He scowls at her but she doesn't see and they decide to go see the movie in the late afternoon/evening. Lilah tells him he’ll be driving - no doubt a ploy to get more time riding behind him without having to ask.

Lilah insists on doing the dishes while Wesley paces back and forth between putting things back in their respected place and wiping the table. He also pours the remaining coffee and tea into each of their cups before setting the pots over to Lilah to be washed. 

Lilah is humming as she washes. Her hands rubbing back and forth, deep in the soapy basin with the sleeves of his shirt rolled to her elbows. He isn’t quite sure of the tune but he knows it means she is relaxed. She once told him there was something about mundane chores at the end of a long night that put her at ease. Somehow doing the laundry or sweeping the floor after dealing with monsters and demons (literally and figuratively) all day made her feel normal. 

Wesley takes the towel rag and thwacks the tip against Lilah’s rear. She jumps with a gasp before rearing around and splashing him with hot, soapy water. The kitchen fills with laughter from both of them before simmering back into a comfortable quiet. Lilah finishes the dishes while Wesley switches the wash from the washer to dryer - putting the dial on the delicate setting for Lilah’s clothes.

After everything is put away and tidy they wander over to the couch with their second cups of tea and coffee. Wesley sits on the couch while Lilah settles herself beside him, feet tucked into the cushions and her under his arm. She’s got the crossword and pen bunched in her hand while he flips through images on the television. 

They settle on a horror movie from the 80’s. Catching the last ten seconds of A Nightmare on Elm Street , just as Freddy pulls Nancy’s mother through the window of her home. Embarrassingly, Wesley couldn’t originally figure out how Freddy pulled her though the window so fast until Lilah explained to him it was actually a blow-up doll. Not only did she appreciate its older visual effects, there was something about it just being a movie that leaned into the more normal feeling she mentioned earlier.

When Wesley sets the remote down, his eyes glance to the only book sitting on the coffee table. Dante’s Inferno - the copy Lilah bought him. The copy she signed on the inside with a red pen. Love, Lilah. It never meant anything to him before, but now there is something about the way he’s here in his flat, and so is Lilah - who blew off an important meeting to spend more time with him. And she made breakfast and washed the dishes. She tucked under his arm and he isn’t unhappy about it. The inscription never meant anything before but now he wonders if it does, if things have changed between them.

Lilah leans over, setting her empty coffee cup on the table. She skims the last word on her crossword. Four down. She fills it in with ease on his thigh. He catches a glimpse of it before she folds the paper into a tiny square and tucks it into the pocket of his shirt. She yawns and stretches herself, laying her head in Wesley’s lap. He sets his cup down on the table beside him and runs his fingers through her hair in gentle motions - thinking deeply about the last answer to her crossword. 

Two down. Four squares:

Tender and passionate affection. Taken from the definition: a profoundly tender, passionate affection, often mingled with sexual desire , for another person.

The answer was love.

[persphonesorchid]

Hatin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||

Summary: You absolutely loathe min yoongi, and honestly, you have no idea why - his vibe rubs you in all the wrong ways. When you and him suddenly find yourselves in a room with a shaman, things get ridiculously complicated.

Genre: Past Lovers au | Fluff, angst, enemies to lovers.

Teaser Warnings: none

Teaser word count: 647 :)

Full fic has been posted :)) - Here

Masterlist

Notes: This fic is based off a dream I had a while back. Which I can't say much about because spoilers lmao, though I will say that the dream was wild as hell. The summary alone is just a little bit of what happened in that dream of mine 🤣 But!! I hope you guys look forward to it! I'm so excited to share it with you all, and hopefully, it'll be done and ready by this weekend!

Also, just wanna say this fic wouldn't be here if Nikki didn't say "Can you write it 🥺"

And, as all my teasers go, three scenes in no particular order! Have fun! I hope you're all having a great day! ❤️

You could feel Yoongi’s stare, burning into the side of your head and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. You promised Seokjin you’d behave, that the few words you’d share with Yoongi – if any – would be civil.

You’ve known Yoongi for years, running in between the same circle of friends. The first time you’d met him, Seokjin had warned you not to take his lack of words and uninterested expression to heart. You hadn’t, some people are like that – you’re aware.

Yoongi constantly had his guard up, never letting anyone get closer than he would allow. It’s not easy to sit in a room with him, even amongst your friends. It’s awkward, painfully so. You’re not sure why he rubs you the wrong way, maybe it’s something about his vibe. The way he carries himself like he’s king shit, able to command a room with a flick of his wrist.

You and Yoongi always bicker, even without saying anything at all. There’s a tension that’s strung between you both, like a tight coil that only curls tighter the closer you are to each other. Like now, sitting a few inches away from him, even though he’s said nothing else to you, eyes stuck petulantly out the window.

“D’you need help finding Jimin and Hoseok?” His eyes flicker down to where the squirrel plush swings from the belt loop in your jeans.

The words are taunting and there’s a gleam in his eyes that leaves you unsure if he’s joking or not. You huff, crossing your arms, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, the way you act all the time.” He says, walking off, but you’re not letting him have the last word.

“As if you’re any better.” You trail behind him, glaring daggers into his broad back and hoping that he trips on air. You suck your teeth, pure pettiness leading you to follow behind him and not go your own way.

You’re not sure why it’s always this way. There’s a need to be as far away from him as you possibly can be, if to just spare yourself the headache, but also, a need that swirls beneath it to be near. You’re not sure what to make of that and you try not to think of it. Try to bury it down, put a lid on it and leave it to rot in a corner somewhere.

You don’t like him, and that’s just it, there’s nothing more to that, nothing you have to sit and bust your brain over.

“You two have a past.” The woman calls, and for some reason, you and Yoongi both stop. “I can show it to you.”

She’s probably part of the attractions - here to make money just like everyone else. It’s not uncommon to find folk like her in places like this, where susceptible people are lured into paying a pretty penny for baseless words. It calls to you though, for some reason, you’re not sure, but you turn to look at her first.

She smiles at you, and you turn back.

“Ignore her.” Yoongi says, trying to urge you forward, even though he himself has yet to move. “C’mon.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman is persistent, it seems, as she speaks again. “I’d be doing you both a favor.”

Yoongi sighs, the warmth of his hand leaving your back as he turns. You turn too, and you’re locked in a silent stare-off with the woman.

“I don’t think she’ll leave us alone.” He mumbles quietly to you, and against your better judgment, you follow him as he walks back. “People do this all the time, so don’t pay mind to whatever she has to say.”

Tags: @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @matchy6812 @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna

[wafflesinthe504]

Falling All in You (Cloak and Dagger Fanfic)

Rating: T (for mentions of canon typical case)

_____________________________________________________________

It’s late and Tyrone and Tandy are lying in bed, both exhausted from the past two days of investigating a list of employees who might have a link to the deaths and the bodies that continue to show up at the beach. Tyrone was already half asleep by the time his head hit the pillows on their bed, but Tandy found herself unable to sleep. Even though her body was tired her mind was wired with one single thought that had been in her brain for a few months; Tandy was falling in love with Ty and it terrified her. When she first realized her feelings for her boyfriend were developing into something more she had to fight every instinct that told her to run before she ruined the only truly good thing in her life. For what felt like the first times in her life Tandy decided to stay and confront her feelings, but of course that’s easier said than done. Tandy had planned on telling Tyrone that she was in love with him after they officially moved into their apartment, but then they had gotten their first lead on their investigation on the bodies at the beach. She decided that her proclamation of love could wait until they solved who and what was responsible for the dead bodies at the beach, but it was taking longer than predicted to find out who was responsible for the deaths so Tandy continued to put off telling Ty her true feelings for him.

“Tandy is everything ok?” Tyrone asked his voice slightly muffled by the pillow. He had managed to open his eyes to look at Tandy who was laying on her back with one hand laying over her stomach and the other behind her head.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” Tandy responds.

“ ‘Cause I can practically hear the gears in your head turning T. We’re linked remember,” And of course he’s right ever since the night when they met at the party they’ve been able to tell when the other is distressed or in some kind of trouble. “Something’s obviously bothering you. What’s going on?” Tyrone props his head up with one arm to get a better look at his girlfriend’s face.

Tandy looks into Tyrone’s dark brown eyes that are full of love and concern. It’s then that Tandy makes up her mind to finally admit her feelings.

“I’m falling in love with you, Ty,” Tandy says it in one breath and feels like a weight has been taken off her chest. That is until she’s met with stunned silence and the air feels about ten times thicker than before. Tandy starts to ramble on her nerves getting the better of her. “I mean you don’t have to say it back or anything. I just wanted to let you know you asked me wh-“

Tyrone cuts her off by kissing her slowly and passionately. Tandy eagerly returns the kiss. When they pull apart for air Ty tucks a stray piece of hair behind Tandy’s ear. When Tyrone breaks the silence his voice is barely above a whisper. “Tandy, do you know what you are to me?”

Tandy, for once, doesn’t trust her voice and shakes her head. Tyrone gently cups the apple of her cheek and runs his thumb in a circle. “You are the person that I am madly in love with.”

“Madly?”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine my life without you.” Tyrone kisses Tandy on her nose. Tandy closes her eyes enjoying the sensation of loving and being loved. She curls into Tyrone’s side and places her head on his chest, her arm wrapping around his waist. Tyrone wraps both of his arms around her. This is how they finally fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms and the warm sensation and comfort of knowing that they are loved.

[rinrinx2]

so there’s so much i want to say but i got 😵‍💫...too much thoughts too little brain

anyways first thing first FUCK KENTO NANAMI (full government names for trashy people) specially after finding out he’s a serial cheater like the fucking 😡🤬🤬

him not asking but demanding to wife yn not to work for gojo saying shit like he’s his #1 work rival when he doesn’t spend time with his family at all nor speak to his wife when he’s in aichi how could she have known

let’s not talk about how from the moment he saw wife reader in shibuya till the restaurant dinner, i bet he has not seen his family nor care to ask where they are staying, like dude your family has been in tokyo for more than 10 days - your wife accused you of cheating and wanted to visit your apartment but you refused bc your side bitch was there waiting for you - and you don’t give a damn about it. does he not realise his kids are old enough to understand things and most likely will wonder why they are staying somewhere else and not at his dad’s place? knowing a bit about the cheater’s personality through your asks he will not leave his wife (easily) for his mistress for the sole reason he value his public persona too much. Rin please make him suffer and make him miserable and pay for the consequences of his actions because it isn’t the first time he cheated and he will never change. the marriage is broken behind repair bc of him and his actions. he’s not feeling guilty and if he will it will only bc he’s been caught in the act.

really wondering how the mistress will feel if she ever found about the serial cheating 🤪 in some parts we see her feeling guilty for being the side piece but those are just temporary feelings bc nanami reassures her immediately. but what i would really like to know is does she really think she’ll have a future with nanami on the long run? does she really think one day she will be officially his? they have being together for a year(?) and i bet no one (or maybe only a few people) know about her relationship with a married man. let’s say they really get together what is she going to say when people ask about how they met etc. are they going to lie? also does she knows he has two teen sons? they will never accept her for the sole reason they know the true and they saw their mum suffering. even if the couple (nanami x mistress) manage to lie to the people in nanami’s circle it doesn’t mean the sons will not spill the beans at all 😌😉 imagine everyone’s reaction 🫢🫢. last but not least: let’s go mr. menace gojo 😍

i copy paste from my notes and the format is ugly 😵‍💫😵‍💫

cant wait for next chapter :)

Nanami has a lot of nerve and audacity. He thinks that his wife is his and no one else can have her but he can have whoever he wants while having he. He thinks he can have his cake and eat it too.

Your analysis is so spot on, I love it so much its amazing.

To answer the questions:

She knows deep down inside that they might not be together but she tells herself that its doubt and that some way they will end up together.

And if the possibility they do end up together she'd probably say he divorced his wife then met her.

This woman knows he has a wife and kids. When they first slept together his kids was his wallpaper. She knows.

Also them kids are deffs going to spill if they end up together, they'll strike at Nanami's office with boards.

Also thanks for the love and support and yes Gojo is coming for everyone

[todoscript]

how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write 

copyright 2021 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

speakeasy | s. aizawa 

➳ tags ;; dirty talk, smut, fem!reader, aizawa being a menace, mirror sex?, readers wearing a dress, the word violate ?, petnames like good girl, praise kink, fingering etc. 

➳ wc ;; 1.6k

➳ a/n ;; well-spoken men make my brain empty n my kitty wet dslkfjskdf hi mr. aizawa sir.. i like u 

➳ plot ;; aizawa likes to talk you through everything, even filthy mirror sex

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

Aizawa is clasically well-spoken. 

He used to get made fun of for it when he was younger - especially in high school where his formal speech felt out of place for his age. The older he gets, the more attractive the quality becomes. He speaks so smoothly - doesn’t stutter when he talks at all. It’s always slow, concise, and to the point. 

The content of what he says matches his tone of voice well. Aizawa is a conversationalist almost by nature. Despite how quiet he is upon meeting him for the first time, if the subject interests - he could harp on about it for hours and hours. He’s just as eager to hear you respond, loves adding to your ideas and building a concept up until it reaches the ceiling.

He’s knowledgeable too. Unsurprisingly, he reads a lot. But he also has a bad habit of deep diving into obscure things. He knows a lot about how clothes are made and the way honeybees fly. He’s a natural at the retention of information - of both the important and unimportant kind. Aizawa makes habit of these things - the ability to speak and communicate anything he wants. 

His vocabulary is vast as seven seas and his voice is pleasant to listen to - a raspy baritone, low in his throat. You could listen to him talk all day. 

The problem only lies with how Aizawa likes to use his voice. Selective by nature, it can’t help but feel purposeful whenever he talks to you this way. You can almost feel the hum of his throat, how it gets. With his hand placed so carefully between your legs - all you can hear is that deep chuckle that he likes to. 

Aizawa is uncharacteristically built. His body is all muscle, and you can feel it against your back as he holds you this chest. Your legs are spread apart over his - seated comfortably in his lap as your being exposed. It doesn’t help that you can’t see him, can only listen to the way he speaks to you. 

His voice is warm as it ghosts the nape of your neck - it smells like spearmint and coffee and sleep. His tongue smooths over the side, sharp teeth sinking into soft flesh as a hand rests your thigh. He massages your legs with a hum - and you squirm at his overbearing presence. 

“You look beautiful today” 

The compliment is well-meaning. You nod absently at it. You dressed up for this date with no expectations, masking your surprise is proving difficult. It’s like he senses it.  

“Why’re you so nervous, love?” 

“You’re.. hands are uhm..” 

He pauses, a free hand settling right at your belly. His knuckles brush over lace panties with a crooked yet lazy grin. You can feel it against your clit. It throbs with anticipation and desire. A wetness forms between your legs, drips like a broken faucet with repetition. You shift your weight around, feeling his cock in the small of your back. 

“My hands? What about them?” 

You want to say something, anything  really but you come up blank. His finger slides underneath the cotton barrier, snaps it against your sex a few times - amused. A little whimper carries through you as his fingers get closer and closer. The mirror in front of you is a terrible reminder of everything. The way Aizawa has you spread apart, the way his tired eyes glaze over your body. Your nipples are stiff underneath your dress - when he pulls the fabric to bunch underneath your tits you yelp. His thumb and forefinger are tender against your nipples as he pinches and twists them. 

All you can see is yourself and him over your shoulder, onxy black locks pulled up out of his vision. 

“Do you not like where my hands are touching you?” 

You moan, soft and sweet as he plays with your tits, shaking your head. It’s a losing game - you’re sure of it. 

‘N-no - ‘s just a lot” 

“That’s good, that’s good. It’d be unreasonable if you dressed like this and told me not to touch you, don’t you think?” 

And you want to respond back about something with bodily autonomy, something coherent and cohesive. But your body is running feverishly high and your mind feels blank. When your dress gets pulled up past your hips, bunching at the top of your thighs - you lose sight of your control. You want to squeeze your eyes closed, embarrassed by the graphic image of his hand. He pulls your panties back - lets it rub between your folds until your slick makes a mess of the light fabric. 

“Shouta, ngh,” 

“I haven’t even touched you yet but you’re drenched,” 

Aizawas hands are strong, pretty too - they look like they fit in your panties just right. His fingers brush the circle of nerves till your back arches, a piercing wave of pleasure that has you crying out his name. Such a small touch is enough to send you reeling as the beginnings of on orgasm snap in your gut. 

It feels like your skin is firing off, blazing heat encompassing you. His fingers are thick as they stretch your hole out, first one then another. He pumps two fingers in your cunt, scissoring it until he feels the tension of the stretch around them. Your insides feels soft against his touch, molded to the shape of his careful hands as your entire body throbs for his touch. Your pussy feels like it’s weeping and your eyes feel hazy. You can see yourself, bearing witness to the way he violates your cunt with ease. 

“Look at your cunt taking me in so good, right there in the mirror, my love” 

And he’s right, you know he is - you can see it with your eyes half-lidded. But your body craves more, even as an orgasm feels like it’s right there. You know you can’t reach it without getting what you need and Aizawa knows that too. You whimper soft in your throat, clenching around his fingers as you whine. It’s good but not good enough - has you grinding your hips back for more. 

“Shouta..” 

Your voice trails off and he smiles at you, chin tucked over your shoulder. 

“Hm? What is it” 

You whine, screwing your eyes closed as he goes faster and faster. You can feel yourself gush around his hands, orgasm impending but not quite there. You hiccup 

“Sho, please” 

“Please what, baby? Use your words and tell me what you want - I can’t read your mind after all,” 

You could argue that he could - that he can right now with how his cock keeps twitching in his pants at the way you moan so shamelessly. Your legs trap his hand as you squeeze them shut - almost crushing his wrist but not being strong enough. Emabrassment drowns your senses. 

“Your cock, Sho -  please” 

His laughter is smug, almost sarcastic. 

“So greedy. You want me to split you apart on it just like this? I didn’t stretch you out yet, arent you afraid I’ll break your pretty little pussy in half?” ― you can feel him push his pants down his thighs as he hoists your hips up with one leg. Suddenly his cock is sitting between your legs, brushing up against your swollen pussy ― “or is that what you wanted in the first me? For me to break you open?” 

The tip throbs right against your clit, sending electricity through you. And you’re begging him again to fuck you. His hand rests on your belly, loving and tender, as the head nudges against your hole. 

“Keep your eyes on it or no cumming, got it?” 

You exhale a shaky breath of confirmation, hear ricocheting against your ribs. And you watch like he asks - watch the way your whole stretches open and tries to accommodate his size. Watch as he penetrates you inch by inch, thick and hard and hot until you feel him against your cervix. Aizawa’s never been particularly big but the way he fills you up makes you think otherwise.

“Does it feel good?” 

You know the question is rhetorical with the way he bounces you on his dick - the smug grin on his face as your expression becomes messy. Skin covered with a sheer of sweet, tits bouncing, feet  kicking as he lifts you by your hips and fucks into you. You can still see yourself in the mirror being taken and it makes everything feel more sweet. 

Delirium is the only thing you can feel as he fucks up into, brushing your cervix with a spare hand on your clit. Pleasure is overbearing emotion, burning a hole in your stomach as heat licks at your calves. You can feel him so fucking deep you can barely breathe. His whispered sweet nothings only add fuel to the fire. Aizawa’s jsut got that voice  - that tone that makes each word of praise go straight to your core. You’re half dressed and getting fucked so hard you feel it in your lungs but all you can hear is Aizawa groaning “good girl” against the shell of your ear. 

“You’re ― shit, haah ― clenching down on me so tight. Are you gonna cum, hm? Gonna cum all over my cock, like a good girl? So fucking pretty aren’t you?” 

Your orgasm knocks into you full force as his words fill your empty head. Convulsing, your spine arches you cum hard and fast all over his cock - still full to the brim. You twitch as you ride it out, slow thrusts making you mewl as he kisses the crown of your head. 

Aizawa hums, soft and low 

“I haven’t finished yet so you’ll have to bear with me. I’m sure you can take it though, right?” 

And you nod your head, thighs trembling. You’re sure with how he speaks to you, Aizawa could convince you of anything at all. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[noteguk]

devilish | kth | m

— summary; in which Taehyung has a bit too much fun toying with your limits. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, Taehyung x reader, established relationship, edging, guided masturbation, dirty talk, corruption kink, sliiiight dumbification, dom!tae, mentions of past virginity loss, mentions of blowjobs, mirror, begging, orgasm control, praise kink, use of the word “slut”, cockwarming, unprotected sex 

— words; 2,4k

— author’s note; this request has been sitting in my askbox since forever because I was stuck with the last version of it. Eventually I deleted that document and completely changed the plot (or lack thereof), and now here we are. I really like corruption kink so :) this was a nice ride 

Requested by anon! 

Taehyung was almost convinced that you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Granted, he was biased. He had been dating you for some time now, but, in his defense, he was positive that the wind had been knocked out of him (how cliche) the first time he had laid eyes on you. And it all went downhill from there. Taehyung became a bit more crazy about you every time he saw you, paid a bit more attention to the small details that he might have missed before — the way you played with your hair, the shy tug of your lips every time he made a flirtatious remark, the fluttering of your eyelashes when you leaned away after a kiss. It was all beautiful, perfect, created by angels just for him. And he loved every second of it. 

It was just a matter of time before his little obsession leaked into the bedroom and Taehyung didn’t hesitate to make good use of it. Even if you were a bit embarrassed by it, always so shy, Taehyung liked to watch you play with yourself as he told you what to do: where to touch, how to move, when to stop. And you were always so good for him — following his orders eagerly, giving him more every time he asked you to. 

You were so, so perfect that he thought he was dreaming. He couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend. 

“That’s it, baby, take it slow,” his husky voice sounded next to your ear, one of his hands caressing your hair gently. You had your back pressed against his chest, sitting between his legs, with your own thighs open and pushed up to the level of your breasts. He could see everything like that. “So pretty. You’re always so pretty for me.” 

Taehyung had his eyes zeroed in the reflection before you two, the large rectangular mirror presenting him with the glorious view of your flushed heat. He followed, mesmerized, as you circled your clit with two of your fingers, whining beautifully at your growing pleasure, back arching and eyes closing. 

Taehyung was used to your body, how it reacted; he knew the telltale signs that your orgasm was getting closer. And that was the dangerous part. “Shhh, you’re almost there, baby,” he mumbled, the venom in his tone telling you that he would do it again — ask you to stop just as you were about to cum, making you cry and whine until he allowed you to start over. But then your pleasure was almost gone, and you had to build it back up from zero. “Look at you, you’re so desperate. You like playing with your little pussy?” 

You nodded, a frail moan leaving your mouth. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, begging to be filled up. 

“You do? That’s so dirty,” he teased. Taehyung’s hands were resting on either side of his body now, supporting his weight. No matter how much you wanted him to touch you, you knew that he wouldn’t. He found much more satisfaction watching you do it. “Is that pussy wet for me, baby? Does it want to cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you implored, overwhelmed. Taehyung had made you edge yourself five times already, it had been going on for too long, and you didn’t think you could stop it again. You would try, though, of course you would, but you were afraid that your body wouldn’t respond in time. “I want to cum, Tae, please.” 

He hummed, placing a wet kiss against the nape of your neck. Taehyung was breathing heavy, fighting against every cell of his body so he wouldn’t bend you over and fuck you full of his cock. He also had his needs, but his objective was to teach you some discipline. He needed you to need him. 

“One more time for me, baby,” he said. His cock was unbearably hard inside his pants, leaking into his underwear as he heard the beautiful sounds of your soaked pussy. He was going insane thinking about how well it would wrap around him, how gorgeous you looked when you were full of his cock. “Stop it one more time.” 

You almost cried out at his words. “N-No, I can’t,” you whined. You could feel your orgasm just about to overflow, your thighs shaking as you continued to rub your clit. “I can’t do one more.” 

“Shhh, you can,” he calmed you down. Another kiss against your neck and you swore you were about to die. “Stop now.” 

And you actually stopped, because you were such a sweet, obedient girl for him. Taehyung watched as your chest heaved, your eyes closing as you pulled your hand away from your pussy, a shaky moan of frustration leaving your lips as you let your orgasm slip away for the sixth time that afternoon. He felt his cock throb in his pants when he saw how soaked and puffy your cunt was for him, caught himself groaning out in hunger. 

“That’s such an obedient slut,” he complimented, his voice a hoarse vibration against your shoulder. Taehyung knew you were on your limit, and he loved that, still, you followed what he told you to do. “You used to be such a good girl, baby, now look at you: edging that little pussy of yours, begging me to let you cum. That makes me so fucking hard.” 

You could only whine, because your limbs had turned to jello and you didn’t think you could find your voice quick enough. Your own reflection stared back at you in the mirror — your skirt pulled up and panties brushed to the side, your heat dripping against the bed, making a mess that you were sure Taehyung would tease you about later. You didn’t know what had happened to you, it seemed as if your life had completely turned around ever since he had walked right into it. 

And, as if he was reading your mind, Taehyung continued talking as your pleasure melted away. 

“When I met you, you couldn’t even kiss me without getting shy,” he started, one of his hands leaving the bed and resting on your waist. Your body shivered at the warm contact, sensitive. “You were this timid little virgin, you hadn’t even touched yourself yet, baby. You didn’t even know how to.” Another kiss against your neck had you shuddering, hoping for more. “And now you are soaking all over my sheets like a good slut. You learned how to take my cock so well, didn’t you? I taught you well.” 

You nodded, brain flooded with images from your past. Taehyung had always been drawn to your innocence, found his delight watching you discover your pleasure for the first time — rather, he loved teaching you, breaking that inexperience apart until he had you whimpering for more, embarrassed and needy, grinding your pussy against him just to feel something. He had turned you into a desperate little thing, an obedient girl that could cum just by playing with your tits, or that would start crying when it became too much — and still would ask him to keep going. 

You were a giver: you liked to provide Taehyung with whatever it was that he asked you to, loved to be showered with his praises every time you made him cum. You liked to play up your innocence just to see how he reacted, weaponized your apparent cluelessness because you knew that he loved to show you how to do things. It was a perfect game that you two played, and it always ended up just like both of you wanted to. 

Taehyung’s hand slithered up your stomach and groped your covered breast, pulling you out of your reveries. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, a shot of pleasure going straight to your core as his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple. 

“Taehyung, please,” you begged once again, your voice a pathetic little thing, “let me cum.” 

“My baby wants to play with her pussy again?” He asked, his voice an octave lower. You nodded. “Hm? Want to make that tight little cunt cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you were losing your mind, droplets of sweat running between your breasts. The bedroom was so hot, you felt like you couldn’t even breathe. “I need it so bad.”

He chuckled devilishly against your skin, his thumb grazing your nipple. “Alright, baby, you’ve been good,” Taehyung finally gave in, making you breathe out in relief. “But sit on my cock first.” 

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your pussy clenching in anticipation. “What?”

“You heard what I said, baby.” He removed his hand from your tit and used it to unzip his pants. The sound was harsh and loud, shooting straight to your dripping core. “Come on, I’m not very patient.” 

Taehyung was patient, though, that was how he managed to edge you so many times without losing his cool. But you bought his act and moved forward so he could fumble with his pants, your eyes following his movements on the mirror as he pulled his cock free. 

You sighed at the sight, your mouth watering with the thought of licking his cock clean. He was so hard and heavy, leaking all over himself, and if you weren’t so desperate to have him inside you, you would’ve turned around and sucked him like he had teached you, until you were crying and he was cumming down your throat. 

“Don’t ride it. Just keep it in.” Taehyung shattered your dreams just as fast as he had built them, a frown covering your features as he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. “Keep my cock warm as you touch yourself, baby. Make a mess on it and I’ll think about fucking you, alright?” 

Taehyung always had wonderful arguments, because that had you agreeing within a second. You struggled to place yourself over him, lining his tip with your entrance and, just as you were about to sink down, he stopped you. 

“No, baby.” Taehyung placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head towards the mirror. “Want you to watch too.” 

“I’ll watch,” you guaranteed, earning a soft smile in return. 

You sat down on his member with ease, thankful for how absolutely soaked you were. Ever since Taehyung had taken your virginity, you realized that you would never get enough of that feeling — of his length stretching you wide open, hitting every spot and throbbing inside you. Back when you had your first time, you had been so flustered that you couldn’t even watch when Taehyung entered you and, now, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your reflection, your hand clenching the hem of your skirt so it didn’t cover the view. 

Behind you, Taehyung moaned out at the sensation, his eyes closing. “That’s it, baby, fuck.” He breathed out. “This pussy was made for me.” 

And you felt the same, felt like the two of you were made to be together like that, a perfect match for one another. 

Before you could react, his hands were back on your body, playing with your tits as you squirmed under his touches. The movement of your hips against him was automatic, filling the room with the sounds of your wetness and a beautiful whimper coming from your throat. “T-Tae, I’m…” 

“Sit still,” he commanded, ignoring your shy requests for forgiveness. You managed to stop your body from moving, instead focusing on how perfectly he was buried inside you, his pelvis glued against your ass. “Didn’t you want to cum? So, go ahead. Play with your clit, baby.” 

Another moan left you as he pushed your breasts together. “But I want to—“ 

“No, no. You already asked for what you wanted,” he interrupted. Taehyung’s eyes were hooded and dark, looking at you from the reflection like they were daring you to disobey him. “Play with your pussy for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. That’s all you’re gonna get for now.” 

You agreed with a frail movement of your head, your fingers moving back to your sensitive nub. You coated them in your juices before pressing down on your clit, crying out in sensitivity as you started to rub yourself again. This time, with the feeling of Taehyung’s cock inside you, it was much easier to find where you had left off, your walls clenching dangerously tight around him as you searched for your high. 

Taehyung continued to watch you, his gaze burning your body. He was biased, yes, but you were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes upon. And he wasn’t ignoring the way you were moaning out his name, your perfect cunt clenching around his cock, the sweet smell of your perfume infiltrating his nose. All of you was perfect, handmade for him, and he was going insane knowing that you were all his. 

“Gonna cum,” you warned, looking at him through parted lids. Taehyung, of course, knew that already. He knew your body better than yourself. “Can I cum?” 

Taehyung smiled — you were so cute. He had already allowed you to and, yet, there you were, making sure his desires hadn’t changed. Even though you were about to break, you still needed his permission. “Of course, baby,” he said. “You’ve been so patient. So perfect for me. You can cum whenever you want.” 

He could not even blink when you finally tipped over the edge, your pussy gushing down on his cock and pulsating around it as you finally — finally! — found your high. Taehyung knew all those small mannerisms already — the opening of your lips, the rolling of your eyes, the high pitch of your voice — but he couldn’t help but feel like he was experiencing them for the very first time. 

And as you came down from your moment of euphoria, your thighs jittery from overstimulation, Taehyung had erased every single doubt from his mind: you were, undoubtedly, the most precious, beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

[whiteqnn]

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sean invites one of his good friends - Y/N - to play with him and the group. She has a lot of fun with them, but at the same time is too oblivious, too nice, and too pure to notice that one particular Among Us player has taken a liking to her the moment he heard her voice...

Notes: Hello everyone! This is the very first time I’m publishing something bigger in here, I’m honestly still figuring out how Tumblr works, even though I’ve had this account for quite some time now 😅. That being said, please don’t expect anything super impressive. I tried my best though just so you know. 🥺

A/N- It didn’t turn out as I expected, but I really hope at least some of you find it enjoyable :(

Y/C/N - your channel name

part 2

part 3 

part 4 

part 5 

PURE [1]

“Did you guys find anybody?” Felix asked, as the number of players still showed just 7 of them. They could just start now, but the game would be way more fun with a full lobby. 

“Yeah, Lily’s joining. I just texted her the code, so she should be here at any moment.” Sykkuno replied after receiving a text message from the said girl. “Oh, and Corpse also said he’d be joining soon.” 

“Great. Anyone else?”

 “I think Jack was also bringing someone, right?” Dave asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I have one coming, she’ll join us in a few” the asked man replied at the same moment Lily’s character appeared in the lobby. 

“Who you’re bringing Jack?” 

“Y/N” he said, causing Felix to gasp in shock and yell into his mic:

“How the fuck did you manage to convince her? I’ve been bugging her about this game for the past week and she always had some excuse!” 

“What can I say, my charm is irresistible” Jack replied nonchalantly, causing everyone in the lobby to laugh at his fake deep voice.

The number of participants changed to 9, as a little black astronaut with horns on his helmet appeared in the lobby. 

“Corpse, you’re here!” Rae’s character ran up to the man, circling him excitedly. 

“Hey man!”

“What’s up, Corpse?”

“Hello everyone” his deep voice sounded out “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“All good man, we’re still waiting for one person.” Felix reassured him “Sean, why is she not here yet? Are you sure you’ve sent her the right code?”

“Of course I am!” he all but shouted at Felix “And about that, she just texted me to give her a few more minutes and that we should start without her.”

“We can just wait, right?” Lily offered, earning a few hums of approval from the others.

“I think it might take a little longer than a few minutes, she has some problems with her microphone.”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Corpse asked, completely unaware of who Jack was referring to.

“Wait, Jack, you mean Y/N from Y/C/N?” Sykkuno asked suddenly, only then realizing why this name sounded familiar

“Yeah, the one and only” Jack replied, a smile evident in his voice.

“Oh my god, I love her videos!” Rae exclaimed at that “She’s so funny and sweet!”

“Yeah! Her new video is so freaking cute, I wish she’d upload more often.” Poki agreed. 

“Right?” Jack said, clearly very proud of his friend. “But don’t let that sweet demeanor fool you guys cause she’s one of the best players I’ve encountered in this game.”

“That’s true, she’s a secret big brain genius” Toast confirmed, making Pewdiepie gasp once again. 

“wHAT??YOU TWO PLAYED WITH HER?!” Felix’s offended voice boomed through everyone’s headphones “HOW DARE YOU. HOW COULD YOU NOT INVITE ME?!” 

“That’s for not inviting me to your latest Cringe episode!” Jack was quick to respond, making others in the lobby laugh at their mini fight. 

“Oh, so that’s where I recognized her from!” Sykkuno nearly shouted when he finally put two and two together. “I can’t wait to meet her, she seems like a really nice person.”

“She is! When she got impostor for the first time she refused to kill me” Toast explained, earning himself a couple of Aww’s from his friends. “So we just ran around the emergency button until I called the meeting and voted her off.”

“Yeah, only to be her first victim in the next game.” Jack all but giggled, clearly very amused at the memory of Y/N going into a full berserk mode. No one except for him and Toast knew how good she really was at this game... 

“She’s basically the wolf in sheep’s skin” Felix concluded with a chuckle “Very soft wolf, however.”

“She’s like the complete opposite of Corpse, both in voice and personality” Jack suddenly said, making Felix laugh wholeheartedly at something only two of them understood at the moment. 

“I don’t know how should I take that” Corpse admitted with a chuckle. He remained silent for most of the conversation since he didn’t really know who the guys were talking about. But he would lie if he said he wasn’t intrigued by this girl at least in the slightest. Although he heard about her channel, he hasn’t seen any of her videos, so he didn’t really know what to expect. But hearing what gamers like Sean and Felix said about her, he knew he’s not gonna be disappointed once the girl joins them in the game. 

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N talking.” Felix said suddenly with a seemingly very amused voice.

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N both being Impostors” Toast said, which resulted in many of them shouting over each other at how crazy that would be. 

“Alright, now that you mention this I start fearing the moment two of them meet” Jack confessed with loud laughter following the sentence. Corpse chuckled deeply under his breath, at the same time glancing at the questions his audience was asking him in his stream. He could hardly read any, as there were quite a lot of people asking, so all he saw was just a bunch of comments moving at the speed of light in his chat. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was slightly nervous, seeing the growing number of people watching his stream. It was still a rather new thing to him, and he feared he'd say something inappropriate, or just make a complete idiot out of himself. 

"At least no one can see me..." he mumbled under his breath after muting his microphone. 

"Oh! Y/N just texted me! She's joining the call right now!" 

"Fuck yeah!" Felix shouted excitedly "Just so you know Jack, I won't forget that you two played without me."

"Uh-oh. Is that a threat? Are you threatening me now?" 

"It's a warning" Felix replied, receiving a series of gasps from other players. "If I get impostor, you're the first one on my list."

"Okay, everyone heard that! You know who to vote off when I'm dead!" 

"It's so cool to play with someone new, I wonder if she's as good as you guys depict her" Sykkuno spoke up, but before anyone could answer his question, a new character popped up in the lobby.

*** 

"Hi everyone! I’m sorry I left you just like that, but this stream would be completely useless without me being able to answer your questions. Fortunately it wasn’t anything serious, I just had to readjust my mic and go through the settings to find what was wrong. Took some time, but here I am now!” Y/N chirped into her microphone, smiling apologetically at her webcam. At the moments like this, she really appreciated how supportive her audience was. No one was hating on her when she had to get off the stream for a couple of minutes, and everyone was just so understanding that it made her heart melt. Perhaps her audience wasn’t very big, but it felt almost like a second family to her. 

“Anyway, as you already know from my twitter, today I’ll be playing Among Us with my friends and their friends! I can’t wait if I’m being honest, last time I played this game was so much fun, and there was only a few of us.” she admitted with a genuine smile on her face. “Let’s just text Sean now so we can get into the lobby...”

Y/N: Ready to play with you guys ^^

Jackaboy: Great! You got that mic fixed already? 

Y/N: Yes, everything is fine. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.

Jackaboy: It’s all good kiddo, no worries. I’ll call you and send you the code in a sec. 

Y/N: Perfect, thank you Sean :)

Jackaboy: Btw, everyone can’t wait to meet you ;-)Y/N stared at the screen for a moment, only now, seconds before joining the group, realizing how nervous she felt. From Sean’s tweets she saw earlier, she figured that the lobby was right now full of many famous streamers, those she wouldn’t even compare herself to. It’s not that she thought of herself very low, but... being among such youtube celebrities like them made her panic a little bit. She didn’t want to look like a complete fool amongst them. 

Playing or recording with Sean and Felix was something else because she knew those guys for years (and yet still sometimes found herself thinking how lucky she got to be able to call them her friends). She felt good in their company, not worrying about choosing the right words. But amongst the rest of the players, she knew only Toast and talked with Rae maybe once in her life... 

What if the rest won’t like her? 

Y/N cleared her throat, realizing that she was still staring at her phone like hypnotized and her audience was already asking her what’s going on. She quickly typed in the code Sean had texted her and readjusted her headphones, before joining the discord chat.

“THERE SHE IS” screamed Sean, making her grin from ear to ear, hearing how excited he was “Little wonderchild!”

“I think you meant little TRAITOR” Felix corrected him with a scoff. A silence settled in the lobby as everyone was waiting for Y/N to speak up.

“Um... hello everyone..” she said softly, almost inaudibly, a sudden wave of shyness taking over her. “I’m Y/N” 

“Oh, you were right about that Corpse thing!” replied another, also very soft and very sweet voice, and Y/N saw the image of someone named Lily pop up. “It’s like the exact opposite!” 

“See? Told ya. Everyone, meet Y/N/N, the little angel from Y/C/N.” 

“Hey Y/N!”

“Hi there!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“H-Hi, so great to meet you, Y/N!” a very friendly sounding voice said, and a little lime astronaut with the name Sykkuno above it started running around her. “Can’t wait to play with you!”

“That’s so nice, thank you” she replied with a wide smile on her face, moving around his character as well. “I can’t wait to play with you too, actually with all you guys. It’s so great to be here with you.”

“Jack I swear she’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever heard. Where the hell did you find her?!” Poki all but yelled at the man, making Y/N giggle to herself and in-process loosen up a little bit. They all seemed like someone she’d happily be friends with. 

“Or rather, where do you get one?” someone else commented, making them all burst into laughter, Y/N included. 

“Guys, what did I say about that sweet demeanor...” Jack said after calming down from his fit “Don’t put your guard down just because she sounds like that!”

“Wait- what did you tell them about me?” Y/N asked confused, the tone of her voice making him laugh even more “Jack!”

“Don’t worry, only the good stuff” a very deep, low voice spoke up, leaving her taken aback for a moment. Her eyes widened slightly and she glanced at the name of that person, reading out CORPSE. Now that’s something she didn’t expect... 

“Corpse, mind your manners! You didn’t even introduce yourself!” 

“Oh, shit- yeah, sorry. Um, I’m Corpse, it’s very nice to meet you Y/N” he replied right after, making her lip corners curl up into a smile. 

“Nice to meet you too Corpse, you have a really pleasant voice.” she spoke sweetly, completely unaware of the chaos that was taking place in her stream chat. She didn’t even think of it the way her audience did, she just simply spoke up her mind, and being an incredibly nice person - turned it into a compliment.

“Oh- wow. I mean, thank you so much. I love your voice too, it’s really sweet” he replied, nervously chuckling at the end, before muting his mic. It was, however, enough for Felix and Sean to start teasing him, as the two immediately screamed:

“SIIIMP!!!”

“It’s the voice Felix, I told you he’d fall into her trap!” 

“Wait- he was just being nice, guys! Stop making fun of him” Y/N immediately defended the man, trying to speak up over the hysterical laughter of the other players. 

“Oh my god, but what if they both get impostors and they both pull the voice cards on us?!” Rae managed to yell through all the noise, making Y/N even more confused.

“Wait, what? What do you mean? I don’t understand.” 

“Don’t worry Y/N, that’s how I feel all the time around them.” Sykkuno seemed to be the only one who heard her question, as the rest continued their gabbing without giving her as much as a glance. 

“Alright, let’s start the game maybe. I might have a few old scores to settle” Toast cleared his throat theatrically, his astronaut coming face to face with Y/N’s. 

“Oh, you mean me? I thought I already apologized!” she replied frantically. “You gave me no choice Toast, I didn’t even want to kill you in the first place...”

“BUT YOU DID. IN THE VERY FIRST ROUND” 

“I’m sorry!” 

“Alright, enough! Toast, just don’t kill her right away, okay? Let her run around the map, fearing for her life for a moment.” Y/N gasped upon hearing Jack’s words, clearly sensing the smirk behind his voice. 

“Wha- Jack?! Since when are you against me?!” 

“Don’t worry Y/N, I won’t let them hurt you. You haven’t played with us yet, I’ll protect you.” 

“Oh, thank you so much Sykkuno! I’ll protect you too!” 

“Great. Another one simping...” was Felix’s last words, before the game began. 

Y/N sighed in relief upon seeing the word crewmate forming on her screen, but at the same time feared Toast’s inevitable revenge. She thought they'd already buried the hatchet, but it seemed that he was desperate to make her pay for the last time they played together. 

“Aw, Sykkuno was serious” she mumbled with a smile, when his lime astronaut started circling her white one, so she would follow him. “Okay, let’s do some tasks.”

They both made their way towards the medbay, Sykkuno patiently waiting nearby as she did the scan, then Y/N waiting for him to do the same. The moment his little character stepped towards her, a meeting was called by none other than Felix.

“What happened?” Rae asked.

“I called the meeting because I’m afraid of Jack” he responded, causing everyone to laugh. “Seriously though! Dude’s been following me around the whole time.”

“I was just making sure nobody kills you.”

“Yeah don’t go all Sykkuno on me!” Felix screamed, making the call erupt into even more laughter. 

“Alright, are we skipping?” 

“Yeah.”

“Guys, my life is in danger!” Felix wouldn’t give up. “Come on, show some support! Y/N? You played with him, you know his techniques!” 

“Sorry Felix” Y/N giggled, clicking the skip button. 

When the next round began, Sykkuno was quick to join Y/N on her way towards admin, where they both found Poki doing the upload. They did the card swipe and left her there, when the lights suddenly went off.

“Uh-oh. Let’s head the opposite direction, Sykkuno” the girl murmured, dancing around his character and heading towards Comms instead of going to Electrical. It was the easiest way to die, after all. 

Once they entered the room and waited for someone to fix the lights, Y/N could see another figure appear in the same location. She couldn’t recognize whose character it was, but upon seeing the horns on the helmet she smiled to herself.

“Hey there, Corpse” she said, walking up to the black astronaut, who was standing still in the same place as if he was just watching her and Sykkuno run around Comms instead of doing their tasks. 

They stood like that for a couple of seconds until Corpse turned around and ran away, and that’s when the first body was reported. 

“Oh no, Jack!” 

“Poor guy. He’s gonna haunt us now.”

“Where’s the body?” 

“Navigation” replied Rae, who was the one to find Sean’s green astronauts’ body “Didn’t see anyone around, but I’m pretty sure someone just vented right in front of my eyes...”

“Any suspicions?” Toast asked.

“Um, not really sure, it was the exact same moment the lights went off. I was doing tasks with Jack and then he just died. I only saw the vent close, nothing or no one else.”

“Okay, where are you guys right now?” 

“I’m in admin with Dave, we only passed Poki when we got there.” Lily’s voice sounded out, quickly being joined by Poki’s explanation.

“Yeah, I was finishing the upload when you guys came in, Y/N and Sykkuno saw it”

“Did you see her?” Toast asked, addressing his question towards the white and lime astronauts. 

“Yes, we were doing the card swipe before going to Comms. Corpse joined us for a moment and then left.”

“Yeah, I was on my way to fix the lights when I stumbled upon them in Comms, the body was reported the exact moment I left.”

“Can someone confirm this? I mean, did someone see you besides the two of them?” Toast continued his questioning. 

“I think I only saw Felix in Medbay.”

“Hmm, so no one really knows where you were this whole time. You could easily lure Jack into Navigation and kill him there. Is that what you did, Corpse?”

“Woah, that’s some serious accusation” Corpse replied in his usual, low and calm voice. “Where were you Toast? You seem the only one who still doesn’t have an alibi”

“Neither does Felix.” Y/N spoke innocently, and the mentioned man quickly started his explanation.

“Okay, I was with Jack at the beginning but he clearly can’t confirm this since someone snapped his fucking neck. We’ve split up in O2 after doing our tasks and then he must’ve gone with Rae. I just wandered around the map, escaping from the death.”

“Hmm, so not only were you one of the last people to see him alive, but you also admit to not doing your tasks” Y/N said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and stop herself from laughing. She was sure Sykkuno was doing the same thing, they both refused to do any tasks after the lights went off, after all.

“Yeah, but does that already makes me an Imposter? I’m just scared for my life, that’s all.”

“Y/N has some good logic, but I’m not really sure it’s Pewds. I mean, I saw him in Medbay and he really seemed to be just jogging around.” Corpse said, his voice almost immediately doing its magic, as people more or less willingly agreed to skip this round as well. 

“I think it’s Felix. I mean, I haven’t played with him yet, but I have this feeling that he’s just acting.” Y/N said to her chat after muting herself. She went towards Weapons to do another task, seeing Sykkuno’s little character follow her once again, but the doors were suddenly locked and his lime astronaut remained in Cafeteria. “Oh no, Sykkuno” she sighed with a pout on her face, deciding against waiting for him and risking getting her neck snapped. She finished her task in Weapons and moved towards another location, when suddenly Corpse appeared in front of her, coming right out of nowhere. 

“Oh- Corpse, you scared me to death” Y/N breathed a laugh, watching as his character stood still for a couple of seconds, before circling around her white astronaut. Y/N nodded her head with a smile, even though he couldn’t see her, and followed him in Shields, where they found Poki’s dead body. 

“The body is in Shields” Y/N replied right after reporting the body, only to gasp in shock when she realized more than one person was killed. Red crosses decorated not only Poki’s name but were also visible next to Dave and Lily. 

“What the hell?!” Felix all but yelled into his mic, obviously shocked just like everyone else who was still alive. 

“Now that’s... a lot of bodies” Sykkuno mumbled under his breath. 

“Alright, who’s in Shields? Y/N, you said you found the body there, which one?”

“Poki’s, Corpse was there with me” her reply was followed by his short and low hum. 

“Sykkuno, where are you? I didn’t see you anywhere since the last round.” Felix asked, clearly accusing the lime astronaut of being a murderer. 

“I was... doing the wires in electrical, Toast was there for a moment as well.”

“Yeah but I was only searching for the body, so I saw you maybe for a second” Toast replied, building even more suspicions around Sykkuno.

“But- guys, you know I wouldn’t kill two people in one round, let alone four of them.”

“No one says you did that, I only mentioned that you were nowhere to be seen. You could’ve been sabotaging the map for the other Impostor” Felix said nonchalantly.

“Guys, I-”

“It’s him! It must be him!” Rae shouted through her mic. 

“Sykkuno is 100% innocent, I can vouch for him” Y/N’s voice sounded out in everyone’s headphones “We were together since the start of the game and he didn’t kill me, even though he had quite a number of chances to do so.”

“Weren’t you with Corpse this time?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“I was! But at the beginning, I was with Sykkuno, until someone locked him in Cafeteria. That’s when we split up.”

“And you haven’t seen him ever since?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then I can assure you it was only a matter of time before he’d stab you in the back” Toast concluded, making Sykkuno gasp in confusion.

“Wha- No, I would never do that! Y/N is our guest, I was just making sure she was okay!”

“Sykkuno, simping won’t save your life right now” 

“Wha- I- Guys!” he tried to stutter out some logical explanation “Y/N, don’t believe them!”

“I don’t, I know you’re innocent! C’mon guys, he wouldn’t do it!” 

“Yeah yeah, let’s kick him out. Corpse, who are you voting?” Toast asked, and Y/N could see the I voted sign next to his character. 

“I kinda feel like Felix tries to shift the blame onto Sykkuno. He didn’t even tell his location, and was already throwing accusations on someone else.” Corpse replied after a moment, making the smile widen on Y/N’s face. Someone was finally on her side! 

“That’s because he can’t even explain himself!” Felix exclaimed, voting as well. 

“Besides, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for whoever locked that door, Y/N would be dead as well!” 

“No, I told you I-!”

“Guys, we have ten seconds to vote. Rae?” 

“I think it’s him as well. He was acting suspiciously since we started this round. I vote Sykkuno”

“But..!” 

“No, Sykkuno...” Y/N whispered with a pout on her lips, when she saw the number of people who voted for her lime friend. 

Sykkuno was ejected. 

“Alright, I’m pretty sure it’s Felix. I saw Rae multiple times and she didn’t kill me, Toast also doesn’t act very Impostor like, but maybe that’s just one of his strategies... Corpse is with me again, I don’t think that’s him, I mean, he followed me around last round, but still didn’t do anything, and even vouched for me and Sykkuno when we were both clearly chilling in comms. It can’t be him... right?” 

 Dead body reported.

 “I just saw Corpse kill Toast, then vent!” Rae’s voice blared through Y/N’s headphones, as she looked in shock at the red cross next to Toast’s name. If not him, then..?

“What?” the accused man asked calmly “That’s a self-report, she’s trying to frame me. You guys can’t possibly believe her.”

“I believe her. I saw you enter the Electrical with Toast, then he’s suddenly dead” Felix said. 

“That’s because she vented in there and killed him.”

“No! I swear, Y/N/N you have to believe me!” she directed her words towards the girl who remained silent during their discussion, processing her accusations over and over in her head. “I was fixing the wires, Toast was doing another task, and then boom! I see Corpse snapping his neck!”

“How could you see that if the lights were off?” Y/N suddenly asked, making Rae cut her own sentence off “No one went to fix them, they were off the entire round.”

Silence. 

“It’s Rae, it must be her” Corpse couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly at how small was the mistake which completely blew Rae’s cover. “We’re voting Rae, right Y/N?”

“No! Guys, I mean, let me explain, I-!”

Rae was ejected. 

“Now that was something I didn’t expect. I would’ve never thought it was her, I even suspected that Sykkuno might really have been the other Impostor, but now... It’s just me, Corpse, and Felix. I’m clear, clearly, so it must be one of them. And since Corpse protected me for the past few rounds, there’s no other option than...”

Her eyes suddenly widened when the realization hit her, and she quickly turned around to speed towards the emergency button. Fortunately, no one was around to stop her from calling the meeting.

“Felix.” Y/N started, trying to contain her excitement and sound seriously “Where were you when Sean was killed?”

Neither Corpse of Felix said a word, as it was probably the last question they expected her to ask. Felix cleared his throat, however, and finally replied:

“Y/N, that was literally the beginning of a game. How am I supposed to remember what I did then?”

“Well” she said nonchalantly “I, for example, clearly remember the things you said even when we were in the lobby.”

“What are you implying?” 

“Wasn’t it you, who told everyone that Sean was your number one if you get Impostor?” she asked with a wicked smile on her face. Felix was dumbfounded, he obviously didn’t expect her to pull that card on him, hell, he didn’t even know how she knew about it since she wasn’t even in the call at the time. 

“FELIX” Corpse suddenly broke the silence, simultaneously breaking the said man from his train of thoughts. 

“Okay, first of all- YOU WEREN’T EVEN IN THE CALL WHEN I SAID THAT” he yelled through his mic, making both Y/N and Corpse laugh, as it only confirmed their suspicions. 

“See? You only proved my point.” 

“Oh, fuck’s sake- I was just joking okay?!” he tried to defend himself, but hearing how he couldn’t even contain his own laughter anymore, it was clear he already accepted the defeat. “It wasn’t serious, god damn it!” 

“You know what to do, Y/N” Corpse’s voice asked through her headphones, and surely, she knew exactly what to do.

“C’mon Y/N, that’s not fair! At least let me explain myself!” 

“Bye Felix” she said in an overly dramatic tone before Corpse voted as well. 

Soon enough, the sign VICTORY could be seen on her screen, which made her squeak and joy. This game was really fun, even though she was so scared of being killed first. 

“I knew it! I knew you would figure out it’s him! That son of a bitch who murdered me!” Jack basically yelled out, clearly very happy about the result. 

“Y/N, seriously now, how did you know I’ve said that?” Felix asked without even hiding his surprised tone.

“Let’s just say I might’ve stolen some of your viewers, Felix” she admitted, winking at her webcam, a new wave of comments landing on her chat. “Thanks guys!” 

“Okay, that is rude and not fair!” 

“It helped me win, so I’ve got nothing else to say” Y/N grinned from ear to ear, before muting herself for a moment to finally answer some of the questions from her chat, while the rest took a quick break to eat something or go to the bathroom.

She was halfway through telling the story of how she met Sean when she noticed she got a message from a private discord chat. 

CORPSE: That was really impressive :)

Y/N smiled to herself upon seeing his text and quickly typed out the answer. 

Y/N: Thanks!! I wouldn’t have done that without you though, you stood up for me and Sykkuno and all

Y/N: Also, thanks for protecting me from being murdered ^^

CORPSE: No problem, I knew you were innocent right away. 

CORPSE: Anyway, good game, Sean was right saying that you’re one of the best players

She couldn’t help the blush that arose on her cheeks, it was very sweet of him to say that, even though she didn’t actually do much except for exposing Felix. 

Y/N: I wasn’t an Impostor though, so you didn’t really see much :)

She watched the three dots beside his name, that signaled he was still texting. The chat was completely forgotten, but people seemed to quickly notice that small, shy smile on her lips, and the pink tint decoring her cheeks.

CORPSE: Okay, now I’m intrigued... 

Y/N: Maybe we’ll both be Impostors one day ^^

CORPSE: Can’t wait for that to happen.

Soon enough, they returned to the lobby to begin another game. Y/N glanced at her chat for a second, and the moment she returned her eyes to the game, her jaw basically dropped. 

IMPOSTOR was written in bold letters in the middle of the red screen, right above her name.

Corpse’s little character was standing beside her. 

[bluemusickid]

Ok so I have been this fantasy about Chris Evans lately... the reader and he are friends and Chris has a girlfriend but she’s not satisfying him in the bedroom and you guys get a little tipsy one night and you end up making all his naughty dreams a reality... and there will be lots of dirty talk like, “she can’t make you feel like this... or does her mouth feel as good as my mouth does, etc”... I need you to work your smutty magic on this one! Could be for any of his characters too! Whatever you’d prefer! ❤️

As much as I abhor cheating........this is a sexy one. Thanks for this one, nonnie!!

Pairing:  Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, SMUUT, NSFW, minors DNI, drunk sex, dubcon (if you squint).

A/N: wHEW, this one was a toughie. I wanted to draw the line somewhere lol, but oh well. Hope you like it! MINORS PLS DNI. Not beta’ed, all mistakes are my own. You are responsible for your media consumption. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

This is my entry to my own challenge (lol). The colour I have chosen is red, which symbolises passion, danger, excitement. <3

You took a swig from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste, the sight in front of you even more bitter than the drink itself. It would have to be your worst luck that Andy Barber was here at the party, but his girlfriend as well? Killed you.

It was especially worse since you had a humongous crush on him, which didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried. It was even worse that you had to act normal around him at work, for fear of being mocked or ridiculed by your coworkers.

Andy Barber had completely encompassed your world and was a part of every waking moment. You watched him get tipsier as time passed, dancing around with his friends, his girl not leaving his side even once. If looks could kill, she’d be dead by now.

Deciding that you needed some air, you stepped out, only faltering a bit as the alcohol was steadily making itself known. Trying to light a cigarette, you heard a few voices from the garage. Your good manners were screaming at you not to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it. The liquid courage was winning over.

“So she doesn’t go down on you?” a voice asked. You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Uh..” you heard the answering voice sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. Oh my gosh it was Andy. You waited with bated breath for his answer, not knowing what to expect.

"I mean we're happy with each other, she's a great girl, very kind and she's great with Jacob. But there's just no spark." He trailed off, slurring a bit at the end.

You didn't know what to feel about this little tidbit you heard; your brain was telling you that it was wrong to feel good but your senses, your mind was in jubilation. You scuttled off inside before you were caught, this new piece of information even more intoxicating than the alcohol.

You stumbled your way into a bedroom, trying desperately to find a washroom. Why was this place so goddamn big? You mused, relieving yourself, the earlier conversation playing in your head on loop. Shaking yourself mentally, you realised there was nothing you could do about it.

Stepping out, you nearly fell as you bumped into something, your foot getting caught in the doorframe. Strong arms grab onto your biceps, steadying you as you managed to straighten yourself. You looked up to thank the stranger, instead finding yourself looking into the eyes of your dream man.

"Are you ok?" He muttered, his voice soft against your ears. You inhaled sharply, your core tightening in response.

"I am now that you're here." You rasped, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. Did you just say that? You had no game, generally.

He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent coworker?"

Mesmerized, you gaze at him in wonder. "Who said anything about me being innocent? I'm not a goody two shoes, I'm different." He looked at you, mildly amused. "Oh yeah? What makes you different?"

"Well, for starters, I know how to go down on my man." You whispered in his ear, moving past him, your hip brushing against his.

You had no time to register when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his chest colliding against your back. You gasped, turning around to face him, annoyance etched on his face. “What did you say?” he growled, his breath fanning your face.

Smirking, you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the crinkle between his eyebrows. “The walls have ears too, you know.” you murmured, stepping closer to him. The rough material of his pants was grazing your thigh, your core throbbing with need now.

Running a finger down his torso, you stopped at the button of his jeans, looking into his eyes, wanting some reaction. Silently, you softly palmed him through his jeans, revelling in the sharp intake of his breath. You looked up at him, for permission to continue, acceptance slowly seeping into his eyes.

Undoing his zipper, you graze your fingers over his boxers, the tent in his underwear causing your core to clench. 

“Can she get you this hard with just one touch?" You softly whispered, running your nose along his. He closed his eyes, his palms closing into a fist. You could feel him mentally warring with his emotions, his body betraying him.

You entangled your lips with his, tugging on his lower lip, as you pulled down his underwear. "I bet she can't do this."

You ran your tongue in one single strip along his length, the tip of your tongue circling around the tip of his member. He moaned softly, his hands undulating, as he tried to stop himself from burying them into your hair. Grinning salaciously, you said, "Answer me, Andy. Can she?"

He gulped, his mouth thinning into a line. "No." He muttered, through gritted teeth. That's just what you wanted to hear. And so you began your amorous assault, taking him in your mouth till he was buried to the hilt. You swirled your tongue, letting your underside work his length. He groaned, his hands finally making their way into your hair, his resolve now fully broken. Bobbing your head around his length, you could feel him slowly thrusting deeper into your mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled you up, throwing you over his shoulder and dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Stunned, you were about to retort, but were cut off by his insistent lips. Gathering your wrists in one hand, he tried to tug off your panties, his impatience winning over as he tore them off, the material dangling limply from one of your legs. He circled your nub, his need to be within you ebbing steadily.

Bracing himself on his arms, his fingers locking with yours, he thrust into you in one move, leaving you breathless. His eyes trained onto you, seeing every emotion on your face, spurred him on, as he pounded into you. There was no other way to describe it except frantic coupling. Crossing your ankles, you pushed him deeper, the new angle hitting your front wall, your thighs quivering from the sensory overload. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked thoroughly, like a whore?". You gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts, the depth and intensity in his eyes scaring you a bit. "Drop the act, sweetheart. I've seen you in office, swaying those fuckin' hips, batting your eyelashes. Don't act like you didn't want my cock in your pretty pussy, fucking you till you wept."

His words made you feel ashamed but in the deepest, darkest part of your heart, they turned you on like nothing else. They fed your libido, which was already wound tightly around his manhood. This man had you wound around his pinky, but you didn't mind. If that was the cost you had to pay to make him yours, you would pay it.

Pushing your legs up, he let go of your hands to caress your swollen bud. You screamed as the new position left you seeing stars, your legs nearly losing sensation, a warmth seeping through your body. Your silky walls grasped him tightly, to the point where you became one, as he shouted his release. Pulling out, he panted as he glanced at the sight in front of him; your overstimulated lips swollen and wet, messy from your intermingling fluids. He cleaned you up with a wet washcloth as you dozed, leaving as quietly as he could.

You woke up after some time, your limbs and pussy sore, you relishing the ache. You didn't see Andy anywhere, but you did see your clothes neatly kept in a pile at the foot of the bed. You were just about to reach for them when your phone dinged with a message alert. Bemused, you checked and saw it was from Andy.

"See you in office, sweetheart. P.S. Wear a skirt. Don't be late."

Part 2

Tags: @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @ozarkthedog @savior-adriana @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @denisemarieangelina @chris-butt @patzammit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @worksby-d @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @bigchoose @violentyoshi 

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Seven minutes of truth and dare

Summary>  You and Pietro have been friends since elementary school. On his 18th birthday, you try to socialize with his twin sister, Wanda Maximoff, who never seemed to like you very much.

Warnings> (implied) Enemies to Lovers/ Fluff and Smut/ Vaginal Fingering/ Boys Kissing/ Girls Kissing/ Underage Drinking/ 18+/ implicit sex/ swearing

Words>  3734k (Oneshot)

Read on AO3 

It took little time to get to Maximoff's house, considering that you had to walk to the residence, since your ride - Natasha Romanoff, best friend, currently on the run together with her boyfriend Bruce Banner - just stood up to you. You were lucky to live only a few blocks away.

The noise of the party could already be heard from around the corner, and you wondered how long it would take for one of the neighbors to call the police. At least it was the weekend, and you remembered that Pietro had commented that the Parkers would be traveling on their honeymoon, being the only neighbors of the house. Pietro was always lucky for things like this.

When you finally arrived at the house, the sound of some electronic music was much louder. You greeted a few people with a nod, the vast majority classmates, who were actually more Pietro's friends than yours, and then you went inside. 

The Maximoff residence was very nice, but at this moment it was full of teenagers drinking and dancing, many glasses and bottles lying on the floor. 

 Looking for Pietro, you found him upside down, drinking directly from a beer tank that was set up in the outside yard past the kitchen. You frowned slightly, hoping your friend didn't have an alcoholic coma, as you walked up to the group of teenagers who cheered and encouraged the challenge.

When he finished, the two boys holding him by the ankles helped him to balance again, laughing and patting Pietro on the back. Your friend staggered a bit, but then he saw you, flashing a smile before hugging you.

- You stink, birthday boy. - You teased, and Pietro just rolled his eyes humorously.

- You took your time. - He remarks as you release from your embrace. You shrug.

- You know this isn't my thing. - You remark, referring to the party. Pietro smiles.

- Yes, yes. But I'm glad you're here. - He replies and then takes your hands, lifting them a little and looking down your entire body. - And look at you, you even dressed up to come! Are you trying to have sex with someone?

You laughed, letting go of Pietro's hands to push him gently, which made Pietro laugh too. Soon you were surrounded by other friends, but not being very good with crowds, you said you were going to get something to drink before you left.

In the kitchen, you tried to find something that didn't have alcohol in it. You ended up grabbing one of the bottles of soda from the refrigerator, hoping that none of the Maximoffs would mind.

Someone changed the music and turned up the sound, so you heard the excited shouts of several people, who began to move into the room and dance around each other. You laughed at the image, walking upstairs.

A few people were scattered on this floor, mostly trying to smoke pot in hiding, or to have some privacy from the noise. A few others were just making out in the corners. You walked to Pietro's room, checking his present in your pocket.

He would be too busy being the popular extrovert he was tonight, so you thought it best to leave the small gift you bought for him on his bedside table, he could appreciate the gift when the party was over. 

You closed the door on your way out, and frowned as you looked down the hall, a couple of strangers kissed passionately while one of the boys groped the walls for somewhere to go, you watched as he found one of the unlocked doors and went inside. You sighed, hesitating to make a move. You knew very well that this was Wanda's room. You figured that no one would want to know that strangers were screwing in their bed.

Hurrying inside, you opened the door.

- Sorry, boys, this one's off limits. - You warned them as you entered, noting that they were already almost naked. Grabbing the fallen clothes from around the room, they looked at you angrily, but then left the room.

You shifted the weight of your feet, realizing where you were at last. Looking around, you bit your lower lip as you observed how everything was just so Wanda. 

The color of the walls, the sheets, even the way she organized the books and records. You ran your finger between the shelves on the wall, smiling at the collection of music she had in vinyl record format. And then you looked at the collection of dvds, compilations of old American sitcoms.

You walked over to the study table, a picture of Wanda and Pietro as children caught your eye. It was Halloween, and they were dressed up adorably, Wanda as a witch, with horns and a red cape, and Pietro as a superhero. You put the photo back, running your fingers through Wanda's notes displayed in the notebooks she left open on the table. On the few occasions you saw her at school during the past year, she was studying. Pietro had commented that she was going to apply to the best colleges in the country. 

- What are you doing here? - A female voice sounded behind you, and you stumbled with fright, turning around quickly.

- God, Wanda, you scared the hell out of me. - You grumbled, but she continued with a look of mixed annoyance and curiosity. You looked away before speaking. - Sorry for snooping. I just came here to keep some boys from having sex in your bed.

Wanda blinked with confusion, but her expression softened. You noticed how beautiful she looked, and scolded yourself for thinking that the next second.

- Oh right. Thanks, I guess.

You nodded slightly, not being used to being alone with her. 

- I didn't know you liked sitcons. - The words escape your anxious brain, and Wanda blinks in confusion. You thought she would throw you out of the room right away, but she just smiles, shrugging.

- You never asked. - She says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

- Yeah, I didn't know you wanted me to ask. - You retort, your voice coming out almost in a whisper. Wanda looks away, twiddling her fingers.

You were silent for a moment, and Wanda looked like she was about to say something, but then the door opened again, and you raised your eyebrows as you watched two girls snuggled up to each other and stumbled into the room, unaware of your presence. Wanda made an impatient expression.

- Get out, now! - she warns, and the girls part in shock. You raise your eyebrows as you realize that you knew them.

- Damn, we didn't know it was taken. - Carol grumbled, and when she looked at you her expression changed from embarrassment to happiness. - Y/N! I didn't know you were coming.

You nodded at her clumsily, and she just smiled, apologizing again as she dragged Maria out of the room, closing the door. You didn't even want to think about what you two were going to do.

- Maybe you should lock the door. - You said, and Wanda looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a tone of surprise and malice in her gaze. You blushed as you realized what your speech implied. - I-I mean when we get out of here.

Wanda laughed, and you tried to cope with the butterflies in your stomach that seeing her laugh gave you.

- I think I will stick around here anyway. - She comments after a moment, sitting up in bed. - Parties aren't really my thing.

- Yeah, I know how it is. - You add, a little awkwardly. - I only agreed to come because Pietro really wanted me to.

- You stopped coming here at home. - Wanda says with an expression you don't understand, it was as if she wanted to read you. - Are you two all right?

You look at her with mild surprise, not really expecting her to have noticed you anyway. 

- Me and Pietro? Yes, we're fine! - you affirm, putting your hands in your pockets. - I guess the exams have been keeping me busy. And well, Pietro has lots of friends now, it's not like I'm missed that much.

You looked at the floor, not noticing Wanda's frown. You didn't want to think too much about Pietro replacing you, not today.

- I don't think that's true. - Wanda says after a moment. - Pietro likes you very much.

Wanda's tone is almost hurt. At first you thought that maybe she was thinking that Pietro enjoyed your company more than hers, which was absolutely ridiculous, but then you understood the tone of the insinuation, and laughed lightly, attracting the other girl's attention.

- You know we're just friends, right? - You start to explain, the idea of dating Pietro is so absurd that your voice comes out in a tone of debauchery and humor. - He has never looked at me like that! And I always thought he was like a little brother.

You laugh at the possibility, but Wanda looks at you intently.

- Would I be like your little sister too? - She replies in a low tone, and you feel your smile drop and look away, completely embarrassed.

- No. - You deny it, a little breathlessly. - I don't see you as a sister.

- And how do you see me?

Feeling your heart race, you force yourself to look up, looking at Wanda. She has a glint in her eyes that makes you want to kiss her.

Before you can answer, the door opens again, and Pietro stumbles inside.

- Great, I found you two! - He looked drunk. - We're going to play seven minutes in heaven, come on, come on!

Giving you two absolutely no chance to respond, he pushed you through the house, leading you to the basement, where your group of friends were waiting for you.

- Hey guys. - You greeted awkwardly seeing everyone standing there. 

- No fucking way you two are at a party together! - joked Tony Stark, smiling at you. Despite the teasing, the others were genuinely happy with your company. - And they're still going to play with us? This is legendary.

- Why don't you just fuck off, Stark? - retorted Wanda as she entered. You knew they didn't get along very well, but Tony just shrugged, laughing at the other girl's aggressiveness. 

- Come on, guys, do the circle! - asked Steve, who was already sitting in one of the armchairs. He put a bottle in the middle of the group. - Are you sure you want seven minutes?

- We start with truth and dare, Rogers. - said Tony as he sat down next to Thor, one of Pietro's soccer teammates.

- All right, all right, let's just play this game once and for all, - said Pietro impatiently. When everyone was sitting in a circle, Steve touched the bottle, smiling at the group.

Turning the bottle, everyone looked forward in anticipation. The tip stopped at Sam, one of his closest friends, who seemed confident to respond to anything.

- Truth or dare, Wilson? - Steve asked.

- I'll go for truth.

- Boring. - Grumbled Tony, but Steve just laughed, and assumed a thoughtful expression.

- Who was the last person you kissed?

Sam bowed his head, a smile on his lips. You frowned, he was not the type to be shy. Tony noticed as well and assumed a curious posture, looking at Sam intently.

- The last person I kissed... - Sam began, pausing, as if wondering if he was really going to say it - Was Bucky.

The whole group exclaimed in surprise, and Tony burst out laughing. You looked at Bucky, who just seemed too embarrassed to respond to the jokes.

- Okay, let's pretend this isn't the biggest sex scandal in school, and move on. - Pietro said in an amused tone. Sam laughed at his comments, and turned the bottle, which stopped at Thor.

- Dare. - Said the blond man without even waiting for Sam to ask. Sam laughed and thought for a few seconds before saying:

- Okay, everyone will need to put their cell phones on speaker for this one. - Sam said and nodded, waiting for everyone to obey. The group laughed, but followed his lead. - Well, my challenge is very simple. Send a message to the person you want to make out with from here. Everyone will know who.

- You are terrible, Wilson. - Thor commented, ignoring the sighs of excitement that the group shared.

It took a moment for Thor to pick up his cell phone, and type something. He took a sip of his beer before pressing enter, and the next second, Valkyrie's cell phone rang. 

- This is not at all surprising, actually. - Steve joked, making everyone laugh.

Valkyrie gave Thor a surprised and mischievous look, but said nothing. Thor looked slightly flushed.

- If you guys are lucky, you can win seven minutes. - Sam teased.

Thor laughed but said nothing. He stepped forward to spin the bottle. Tony let out a pleased exclamation when he saw the bottle stop on him.

- Fuck, finally! - He said, and raised his hand to interrupt Thor, who was probably about to ask the choice. - No need, darling. Of course I want a dare, this game is no fun without it.

- Fine, Stark. - Thor laughed. - Since you love to show off, I dare you to give Rogers a lap dance.

The group burst into laughter, but Steve seemed considerably anxious. Tony laughed, a little awkwardly, and then stood up. 

Thor was quick to get some music playing, and everyone was quiet in anticipation. When Tony started to perform, you blinked awkwardly. You had no desire to see Anthony Stark do a lap dance on someone's lap. You pulled your cell phone out of your pocket checking for messages, and smiled when you saw that there was a message from Nat, just a picture of her and Bruce, smoking together in what you thought looked like the Skateboard Court near the school.

The group laughed again, and you lifted your head to see that Tony was riding on Steve's lap, with his shirt off. Steve was very red. 

- Okay guys, I think that's good enough! - Thor laughed, and Tony stood up. The group laughed at the visible erections on both of them, before continuing the game. 

- Can you keep up, Stark? - Thor sneered, pointing at Tony's pants. He gave a lopsided smile, and pointed a middle finger at Thor before picking up the bottle.

You felt your stomach flip with nervousness when the bottle stopped on you. 

- Well, well, this should be interesting. - said Tony looking at you mischievously. - Tell me, kitten, truth or dare?

You considered your options for a few seconds. If you asked for truth, Tony would not only tease you, but also find a way to make you confess something embarrassing. At least with dare, it would be quick and without much impact on your post-party life.

- Dare. - You say simply, and Tony looks surprised.

- It's been a night of surprises. - he scoffed. - And I think it's time for us to start the seven minutes in heaven.

- Damn it, Tony. - You mumble clumsily. Tony laughs and then flashes you a smile of fake kindness.

- I'll be nice to you. The bottle will choose your partner.  - He says, and you cover your face with both hands for a moment before grabbing the bottle.

- I hate you, - you mutter to Tony before swirling the bottle around. With luck it would stop at one of your friends, and you would spend seven minutes talking.

- No fucking way! - shouted Tony excitedly as the bottle stopped at Wanda. You felt your stomach drop. - I always knew you'd end up with a Maximoff, I never thought it would be with the most gothic of them.

The group laughed, but you were feeling extremely anxious. You felt your legs tremble slightly when Tony pulled you off the couch, seeing your lack of reaction. You tried to smile, but it must have come out as a grimace, since Tony laughed. 

- Remember girls, no cheating. - he warned, opening the closet door. You went in first, and then Tony closed the door when Wanda came in.

The closet was completely dark, and you could only distinguish Wanda's silhouette by squinting your eyes. You leaned your body against the wall, your breaths were the only sounds in the room, since the noise of the party was muffled.

- That's awkward. - You said trying to ease your nerves. 

- Why is it awkward? - Wanda replied. The closet was small, and looking at the floor, you noticed that your shoes were only inches from touching.

- I don't know, I guess I never thought I'd be in a closet with you. - you confess humorously. But with Wanda's lack of response, you bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say next.

- Who did you think you would be stuck with? - She says after a moment, sounding as if she is trying to prolong the subject.

- I don't know. - You say, looking at your shoes again. You think you're imagining that the distance between you has decreased. - I don't really think about being stuck in closets.

Wanda laughs at your statement, and you feel your heart race at the sound. You count twelve seconds in silence before she speaks again.

- I never understood why we didn't become friends. - Wanda confesses, and you look up at her silhouette. 

Because I've been a gay disaster in your presence since I met you. You think, but think it best to just shrug. Then you remember that she can't see the gesture, and try to think of something to say.

- Different political views. - You joke, and Wanda giggles. 

- I like your humor. - She says next, and you feel your cheeks heat up, and look down, only to see Wanda's shoes signaling that she has taken a step toward you. You press your back against the wall, watching her move closer in the dark. - And honestly, I've always liked you a lot.

- W-what? - You ask breathlessly, feeling Wanda's presence right in front of you, your noses touching.

- I always noticed you, you know. - She says, drawing her face closer to your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair. You were thankful that there was a wall behind you, serving as a support. - I would see you around the house. Playing in my yard. And the jokes at the dinner table. Always so quiet and shy at school, so behaved and obedient. - Wanda whispered, and then she brought her mouth close to his ear. - Tell me, did you notice me too?

- Yes. - You confess breathlessly. And ignoring the uneven beating of your own heart, you continue. - I have always noticed you. Ever since middle school, when you started wearing leather boots, and painting your fingernails. Or when I was at your swimming pool and you sat quietly with a book. I noticed you.

Wanda lets out a sigh, bringing your foreheads together.

- Tell me to stop if you don't want this. - She whispered against your lips. You would have laughed if you weren't so anxious. 

You didn't answer, and wanting her to know how much you wanted her, you moved forward, pressing your lips together in a tender kiss.

Wanda took a step back in surprise, separating your mouths. You were about to apologize, thinking that maybe you had got it all wrong, but the next second she moved against you, her hands on your neck as your mouths joined in a firm, passionate kiss.

Bringing your hands to her waist, you pressed her against your body, and you gasped against each other's mouths. Wanda asked for passage with her tongue running over your lower lip, and you opened your mouth, gasping as you felt your tongues come together.

Kissing like this for a moment was enough to warm your whole body, a familiar discomfort forming below your belly. Having Wanda moaning against your mouth was not helping.

You slowed the kiss, stroking her tongue with yours slowly. Wanda pressed herself against you, one knee coming up between your legs. With the new friction, you felt your body tremble in anticipation, delighting in pleasure.

You were startled when you heard a noise, someone must have knocked something over outside the closet. And then you remembered that you were in a closet, with your best friend's sister, who was in the next room with six other people, with no idea that you were about to fuck Wanda.

You began to slow the kiss until you separated the two of you. Your chests were rising out of rhythm as you were breathing heavily

- We only have seven minutes. - You whispered out of breath, feeling Wanda nod her head slightly as you stood there with your foreheads pressed together.

- We can go to my room. - She spoke in the same tone. You nodded in agreement, beginning to miss the taste of Wanda in your mouth.

- Should we wait until the party is over?

Wanda let out a breathless giggle.

- Tell me. - She whispered, and removed her hands from your neck. With one hand she lifted her skirt, while with the other she took your hand from her waist and guided it down between her legs. You trembled as you touched her, pushing the fabric of her panties aside to feel her wet pussy. - Do you think I can wait?

- Fuck, Wanda. - You spoke breathlessly, and felt her moan as your finger moved against her clitoris. She squeezed your shoulder, closing her eyes. - You're so wet. So fucking wet for me.

You began to move your finger, penetrating her shallowly. Wanda buried her head in your neck, moaning against your skin.

It takes all your mental and physical control, but you withdraw your finger from inside her, while with the hand that was still on her waist you move up and down her back, stroking to calm her down.

- I want to feel you in my mouth. - You whisper to her. - I want you to come for me with your legs spread wide open on your bed. 

Wanda nods against your neck, trembling slightly. And then the door opens. You barely catch Tony's joke, feeling disconnected from everything that isn't Wanda. 

And before you can say anything, Wanda grabs your hand, pulling you out. 

- Where do you think you're going? - You hear someone shout, but neither of you even bother to answer. 

You can't help but smile when you reach the second floor, and Wanda pushes you into the room, locking the door as she brings your mouths together.

[sharkneto]

For your “would you ever” ask game: would you ever write Five and Delores’ blossoming relationship and what it means for Five in relation to his own psyche? This isn’t actually something I’ve been looking for in fics, but when I saw your ask game, I wondered to myself what I would want to see that I haven’t seen before lol. I just love your take on Five and Delores and now I’m curious as to how you’d do it!

Funny you should ask. One of my many long WIPs is Five and Delores in the apocalypse. It was supposed to be like... 17k and more just an overview of how their relationship developed. Where we're at now is 30k and still in the first goddamn year. So. Would I ever? Yes. Yes I would. :)

Response for “Would you ever write…” ask game

Snip because I love this fic and I don't think I've shared much of it. Tbh, I should just throw what I've got on AO3 because it's not going to be worked on much for the foreseeable future but:

It’s a random afternoon when it happens. Five has been in the apocalypse for three months, six days, three hours, and sixteen minutes. He’s been dedicated to the math for just over two months, and it’s not going great but it is inching forward. Five is bent over his little desk and Delores is at her spot by the tent entrance, although Five has her turned towards him, rather than watching out the flap.

Five sighs as his current equation runs into rambling nonsense. He shakes his head at Delores’ suggestion. “No, if I don’t take the derivative here, I’ll have to rework this whole part and make it unnecessarily complicated, get stuck in the same spot in four steps instead of two. I have to dig farther back, find a new variable to try…”

Twenty seconds later he drops his marker and almost hurts his neck, he looks up at Delores so fast.

Delores sits as she always has: arm outstretched, mild smile into the middle distance just to Five’s left, and plastic. He narrows his eyes at her.

Five forces himself to take a breath in, hold it, and let it out. He’s overreacting. He’s been talking to himself for months now. This is just that and he didn’t sleep well last night, so he freaked himself out over nothing.

Deliberately, he picks his marker back up and hunches back over the work. It’s just him and the math, like it always has been. He just has to focus back on the math. He shoots Delores a quick glance, suspicious, before he gets back to work.

When she suggests he tweak something with the limit he’s working with a few minutes later, he reacts without thinking and teleports directly to her so he can spin her around and make her face the canvas wall of the tent.

His heart races.

That was not his voice that made that suggestion. He knows what his thoughts sound like, it’s all he’s had to listen to for the past three months.

The voice that gave him the math suggestions was definitely female. It sounded a bit like Mom, if a pitch lower.

It was a nice voice.

It’s a voice that sends absolute terror clawing down to gnaw on Five’s gut.

His hands are still on Delores’ shoulders from spinning her around and he yanks them back like she’s burned him.

Five doesn’t know what to do. His brain starts and stutters, circling back to that kind, smooth voice.

He wants to hear it again. He hasn’t heard another voice in so long.

But he didn’t hear this one, either, because Delores isn’t real.

Five can’t think with her sitting right there, even if she’s not looking at him anymore. Moving her will require him to pick her back up, though. He doesn’t want to do that either.

A noise escapes him that is definitely not a whine and Delores tells him it’s fine, she understands.

Her voice brings him a very confusing mix of terror and relief.

He needs her out of here now. Without giving himself time to think about it, Five picks her up and marches her outside, holding her at arm’s length. He drops her at the firepit and then teleports himself back into the tent, breathing too fast.

“I’m not crazy,” he whispers to himself. His voice wavers. “I’m not crazy,” he tries again, slightly stronger this time.

There’s a little niggling thought in the back of his brain that is very persistent and he does not want to acknowledge.

Isn’t this what he wanted? Wasn’t this the whole point of keeping Delores with him? He had accepted months ago that he was going to slide, at least a little, with all the solitude and isolation. He had picked Delores as a target to slide into, control the descent.

This was exactly the job he had set her up to take. A companion in a place where this was no company.

“I thought it would take longer,” he mutters to himself. He peeks out the tent flap to Delores lying in the dirt and ducks back inside before she can see him and say anything else.

That’s so stupid. He hides in his hands, gently pressing his fingers into his eyes. Delores isn’t going to spot him and say anything because she’s a mannequin and not real.

He wants her to say something else so badly.

Five really thought it would take longer for his mind to slip to that point. Months and months, maybe even years, so he would be long gone and never have to confront this level of crazy.

He didn’t know it would only take him three months to get so desperate for another voice, so sick of the silence, that he’d hallucinate Delores.

It feels a little bit like a failure.

Maybe he leaned too hard into Delores. He had been trying to trick himself into considering her as real and had been consciously talking at her like he would anyone else. Although, it had slipped into habit quickly, something he didn’t even think about. Five talked at Delores as easily as he breathed.

That was stupid of him. He shouldn’t have let himself get so comfortable.

Five peaks out at Delores again.

He can still fix this. He’s only heard her twice (three times). If he backs off, maybe he can remind his brain and undo the slip. He still knows she’s just a mannequin. That she’s not real.

He is not crazy.

Five feels a little better with a plan (and also awful but he pushes that aside). He will ignore Delores until she stops talking to him. If he doesn’t acknowledge her, his brain will learn that it’s not supposed to do that and stop.

“I’m going to go back to work!” he calls out to her and then kicks himself because that is the opposite of what his plan is.

He feels bad just leaving her out there in the dirt, though, lying there all sad.

Five makes it three minutes before he gets up with a huff and trudges outside to at least set her up properly next to the firepit. “Now I’m going back to work,” he tells her and marches back inside, not looking back and thinking so hard about not hearing a response from her that he has no idea if she gave one or not.

His plan to undo Delores starts now.

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[cheekygreenty]

A Little Death - The Darkling x Reader

Enemies-to-lovers, one bed trope AND smut. You’re welcome 🖤

The mission went terribly, just as you said it would. You were always known to voice your concerns during meetings and this one was no different but he hadn't bothered to take your criticism into account.

The big bad Darkling couldn't stand you for that very reason or so he told himself. You were loud, outspoken, rude, and a control freak. You clashed and fought but he kept you there for perspective reasons, even though he never listened to you, like ever.

You laughed when the mission turned sour, earning yourself a glare from everybody, including him. If it wasn't the hours of sleep you lost to carry out the stupid mission in the first place, you would be heading toward Os Alta by now, but no. Everyone was tired and hungry and practically begging for a proper bed and not a makeshift cot in a tent, you included.

Vacancy was lit, the guests were checking in

You waited as the colorful keftas dispersed into the inn and as you approached the innkeeper to grab your keys, he hesitated.

'Only one room left.' He looked afraid to say it, does he think I need more than one? The confused look on your face kept until you saw General Kirigan appear out of the corner of your eye, looking right at you with a displeased look.

'Will it fit two people?'

'Yes Sir'

'Alright then, Y/L/N you're with me.' He took the keys and gestured for you to walk through the archway but you couldn't believe your ears. This man was the General of the Second-Army, almost as rich as the King but he had to share a room, with me no less?! Of all the bloody people on this journey, it obviously has to be me.

You bit back the rude remark that sat at the tip of your tongue and gave a curt nod. It's just one night and I'm ready to pass out.

'After you General' You forced a smile and watched as his irritation grew. Although you hated the man, you had to admit he was incredibly handsome, you weren’t blind. His dark onyx eyes always stood out against the pale of his skin, and the perfectly quiffed jet-black hair practically begged to have your fingers running through it.

His cape whirled around him as he walked past you, breaking you out of your trance. You guessed he knew where he was going as he ascended the wooden stairs and climbed to the top. Out of boredom, you counted the room numbers you passed not paying attention to him and stopped when you walked right into his rock-solid back. 'Saints- I'm sorry.' You blundered. I think that's the first time I've ever said sorry to him. He ignored you and walked into the room, inspecting it closely. You did too, but were cut short when you noticed the absence of another bed.

The room was fit for two

'There's only one bed' You dead-panned. You thought for a moment, looking around for a couch, an armchair, anything, but came up empty-handed. 'This is just great.' You sighed and looked to him. He had shed his heavy cape and donned his black kefta, staring at the one bed the same way you did.

'Well? What are we going to do?' You threw your hands up in exasperation 'Perhaps they have a tub I can-'

'Don't be ridiculous Y/N.' Y/N? I think that's the first time he's called me by my name.

'I meant to go wash, General. It's been a long week.' As opposed to some of the others, including the General, you had stayed in a tent over the past 2 days to gather intel. He and his flock stayed in inns and hotels, bathing in luxury and warmth.

'Yes, of course.' He stared into your eyes, holding your gaze for a hot minute before you looked away, suddenly feeling shy.

You put the bed situation at the back of your mind as you fetched some warm water and washed the grime of failed missions off. So much wasted time, all because nobody would listen to you, he wouldn't listen to me. If he weren't so gorgeous, I would kill him in his sleep.

Once you felt clean enough and your hair began to dry, you walked out of the washroom, enveloped by a towel as you searched your pack for anything you could sleep in. Perhaps the bath fogged up your mind, for you completely forgot the General was sharing the small space with you.

'You know you talk to yourself?' His voice scared the living daylights out of you. He was sitting back lazily against the headboard of the bed in his shirt and breeches smirking to himself. 'I think conspiring my death is reason enough for prison, is it not?' You couldn't tell if he was joking.

'I never said I would.' You bit back, grasp tightening around the flimsy towel.

'Because I'm too gorgeous?' He stood up from the bed and walked over to you. You never registered how much taller he was than you as his eyes scanned you up and down, like a predator hunting its prey.

'I need to get dressed, General'

'Hmmm, yes I can tell.' He took a bit of hair that hung in front of your face and held it between his fingers, the action sending waves of arousal through you, What- No. He was dangerously close, you could feel his breath tickle your ear and he was bound to hear your pounding heartbeat. But alas he moved away, sashaying into the washroom leaving you alone. I need a cold bath.

***

You were dressed for bed now, curled up on the left side of the bed. You were trying to sleep, really trying, but knowing he was laying right next to you only heightened your insomnia.

You knew he was awake too and he did little to hide it amongst the deafening silence of the room. You could feel the heat coming from his body, radiating an invitation for you to join him. You huffed loudly and turned again for the umpteenth time that hour, attempting to escape the weird tension in the room.

'Can't sleep?'

'Obviously.' Even in the dark, you knew he was smirking.

'I know something that would help.' Suddenly he was on top of you, caging you in with a hand at the sides of your head. You could feel the bare skin of his arm and chest as he slightly pressed down onto you, signaling that he wasn't wearing the black silk shirt anymore. Wherever his skin brushed against yours, it ignited that longing and need in you and it felt addictive.

I want you to touch me

'What are you doing? I thought you hate me.' Your proximity allowed for you to see the slight glistening of his eyes. They had an edge to them, a darkness you'd never seen before or never paid attention to.

'You're one to speak.' Taking one hand from beside your head, he so very slowly traced the side of your face, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued his way down your neck and further, stopping at your thigh where your nightgown had bunched up. 'I think it's time we stop this charade of ours.' As you concentrated on the feel of his fingers against your burning skin, he moved his head into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and exhilarating as he spoke.

'What charade' Your words came out with a deep exhale in anticipation of his actions.

'The one where we both pretend we don't want to fuck each other's brains out.'

Your eyes flew open at his crude remark but shut right back again as his lips gently kissed your collarbone and made their way up to your jaw, getting increasingly rough as he traveled. His hand at your thigh sneaked its way under the gown and now gripped your bare hip in a tight hold. 'What do you say?' His lips were now at yours, touching them as he spoke. All your logic flew out the window of the dingy inn. You didn't care that this was your General, or that he could kill you in an instant, all that mattered was that you needed him, and he wanted you.

'Ye-'

Before you even finished, his lips were hot on yours, devouring you in a bruising kiss. He pressed into you harder and if you had any reservations about his feeling towards you, they were flushed away as he made his arousal for you obvious. It fueled you, awoke your need to control with a jolt.

You fought for dominance, letting your mouth duel for any scrap of authority you could have over the man, but he kept you wrapped around his finger, tightening his grasp on you while simultaneously letting your mind run free with thoughts of him and only him. He was dangerous; intimidating.

She sought death on a queen-sized bed.

He began to pull away but to your surprise he only hauled you up with him, taking your thighs and forcing you into a straddle around his lap, not once letting his lips leave your body.

'You do it on purpose, don't you? Vexing and riling me up in front of others-' He took hold of the nightgown and pulled it up over your head before roughly grabbing your chin and letting his lips brush against your now swollen ones '-I swore to myself if you did it again, I would've thought you a lesson right before their very eyes.'

The General was quick to pull you back into him, bare chests pressed together and heartbeats merging into one. Your hips moved on their own accord, slowly drawing circles around his bulge.

'General I didn't take you for a man that stalled.' You spoke against his lips. You were done with his words, you needed his actions.

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

At that, his hand let go of its deathly grip on your waist and quickly went to your core. Letting a deep growl out at your dripping wetness, he plunged a finger deep into you as his palm stroked your clit at an excruciatingly painful pace, too slow for your liking. You couldn't help keep the whimper down and he had the audacity to chuckle at your neediness.

'And I didn't take you to be so impatient.' He nipped at your shoulder as he picked up his pace, earning a series of moans from you. It was like music to his ears.

With your head against his chest, you rode your wave of pleasure out with his fingers still inside you, milking your first orgasm of the night.

Almost immediately he had you under him again and before you could register with your eyes, you felt the head of his cock nudging at your sensitive bud, as if begging for entry. It sent shivers up your spine, seeing him there at your mercy. He ran across your wet folds again and a throaty moan echoed around the room. Are you sure he's at your mercy?

You coaxed him to enter and once he did you felt euphoria. He stretched you out to your limits, filled you until you bottomed out. His eyes were tightly shut as he basked in the comfort of you. It felt just as good to be buried in you as it did to kiss you. You enveloped his senses and his mind. You were the only thing that mattered to him at that very moment.

'Saints Y/N.' His forehead fell against yours as he thrust in and out of you, bearing his weight on the arm not holding your thigh up.

Despite the pleasure clouding your mind and vision, you managed to grab at his vulnerability and flip you both around. He didn't fight back, only grabbed hold of the back of your neck to kiss you deeply as you pounded down onto him. His hold on your hip was deadly, bound to bruise. He liked the thought of marking you as his.

You came with a strangled cry, the pulsing around his length sending him into a frenzy of his own as your name spilled out like a prayer from his lips. It took a while for you to catch your breath and return to your natural state. But it didn't last long before the events of the night were repeated and more marks were littered across your body.

It was only then that you fell asleep, thoroughly spent and exhausted, awaiting the next time you could defy him.

_______

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[moxfirefly]

Hey I kinda wanna make a request (don't know if I have already)

13:I’m not wearing anything under this

26:Don’t make me pull over - that’s it

29:Scream for me. I want everyone to know how good I make you feel

Praise Kink

Over-stimulation kink

With the loveable nerd donnie?

If this isn't possible I understand, love all your work by the way

I have never seen a more perfect set up. Friend you’ve got it!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

He exactly knew what you were trying to do from the moment you climbed into the truck in that frilly little sun dress. In fact he would bet a kidney that the choice of wardrobe on the hot summers night was catered to distract him to the point of muttering to himself.

Donnie was and is, a safe driver.

But that stupid dress had mysteriously ridden up your thighs when he hit a pothole somewhere into his drive through Manhattan. It was a fun little activity the two of you did all the time, a means of getting away, AC on high and privacy you both didn’t get often.

But you had intentions.

Intentions that hopefully would lead to the a very good outcome. So when Donnie saw your hands smooth over the tops of your thighs, his eye would twitch. Never mind when you crossed your legs and that defiant flimsy fabric just allowed more skin to show.

“-could you believe the nerve of that guy? Anyways my boss fired him, good riddance honestly. What about you babe? How was your day?” Donnie had absorbed cero information for the first time in his life, he was at a red light, big brown eyes blinking at you.

You smirked, uncrossing your legs, crossing them the opposite way you had previously.

“What’s your game plan here?” He asked, you almost snorted.

“Whatever are you saying my dearest? Can a gal know how her man’s day has been?” Oh you were a clever sneak but your eyes always betrayed you and when the corners of your mouth shot up in a fit of laughter, Donnie frowned. “My day is great! Just somewhat distracted by a certain someone, you know if we crash it’s totally your fault” He honked when the guy in front of him didn’t move at the green light.

Wanting to make things even more savory, you played with the hem of your dress. “I love when I distract you, it’s a favorite past time of mine” You lifted it and reveled in Donnie almost cracking his neck to see what you were doing and then back to the road ahead.

“I’m not wearing anything under this” You spoke, a sultry hint to your words. You were in fact bare, with every intention of teasing him into having to do something about it.

He bit his lip and shook his head, this was so not happening right now and you sure as hell weren’t...

“Y/n...” Your name sounded like a demand the moment he saw your palm run over the hood of your sex. He kept a good handle of driving and sneaking glances at your lap. Your legs spread enough for you to slide a finger in between your folds and to Donnie’s pure teasing realization he heard how wet you were. You relaxed back, soft touches working you up and Donnie soft little churrs picking up volume. When you pushed that digit inside of yourself, he gripped the steering wheel. “Don’t make me pull over” It was that stern voice he used on occasion.

With another turn on a less trafficked street, you turned to him, digit slowly pumping in and out of you and said, “Or what?” You grinned mischievously. “-That’s it”

Donnie parked the car by the sidewalk, not really caring that even if it was relatively late pedestrians were still passing by here and there. He reclined your chair, enjoying the little yelp that exited your mouth. Pushing your hand away he popped his own digit into his mouth before teasing it at your entrance. “Have you been walking around this city with no underwear? Answer me” You stifled a giggle by biting your lip but that quickly melted into a moan when he pushed his much larger digit inside of you. Your thighs shook with the delightfully stuffed sensation it brought.

“You haven’t answered my question” He thrusted his finger, moving just the way he knew that could illicit the best response.

“So what if I did?” Defiant words for somebody in a precarious position. Donnie had that little twinkle in his eye, the one you knew all too well.

“Nobody, and I do mean nobody, has or will have the right to see this” He emphasized the last word with a harsher thrust of his finger that made you choke. “I guess that only leaves one other option, reminding you exactly who you belong to” That sentence was enough to make you want to scream internally, pushing the usually chill terrapin to these extents wasn’t the easiest. Sometimes one had to play dirty, which you we never opposed to doing so.

Somewhere between a moan and a full body shiver you felt Donnie crook his finger. That first release whenever sought out like this, always made you just a little dizzy, made your joints protest from tensing so much. Your hands flew to his chest, the firmness of his plates grounding you back from your high.

“Say ‘thank you, Donnie’, come on baby, use your words” He swelled with pride seeing your mouth start to move but nothing resembling the words coming out.

So naturally, he started up again.

You squished your thighs together, trapping his hand when the oversensitivity hit but he only ‘tsk’d’ his disapprovement and gave your thighs a soft slap. “Don’t squeeze, don’t squeeze” Trembling thighs obeyed and separated enough for him to continue his strokes, thumb circling over your clit with enough pressure to make your hand fly up to your mouth.

Just like that he pulled another orgasm out of you, but did not stop his motions over your clit.

You started to squirm, breath hitching into embarrassing squeaks and all the more he glued those precious brown orbs of his to you.

“Well?” He barely sounded strained, he was hardly even breaking a sweat.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You shut your eyes when he didn’t stop, every nerve in your body felt over exposed, saturated with the constant onslaught to your sensitive nub.

One more, yanked from your body, hard enough you felt a rush of something in your brain and that jelly like feeling hit your limbs. He fucked his finger slowly in and out, bringing you down into a somewhat false sense of security. Your hazy vision found the window on your side, a few pedestrians passing and the idea that somebody could’ve heard...

Pulling out his digit, Donnie popped it into his mouth. “I had a very nice date planned out, but then again this isn’t far off from the original plan” He pulled you up into a sitting position but maneuvered you onto your knees to face the car window. He bunched up your dress and nudged you forward to rest your hands on the glass. “You like making a spectacle? Walking around with nothing under your dress?” Donnie spoke those words against the back of your head, he enjoyed the scent of your hair. Gripping your hips he pushed you against the prominent bulge.

Oh how your thighs shook. Your breath fogged up the glass as you heard him unzip. “Dee-ohfuck” He ran the length of his cock through your folds, squeezing your thighs for the right pressure for the teasing friction. “Aren’t I a nice guy? See how good I treat you?” He hunched over you, chin resting on your shoulder. A large three fingered hand landed on the glass next to yours, it gutted him to see the contrast in size, to see your pinky wrap around his much thicker digit. “Tell me how it feels, when I push into you” He whispered against your shoulder, slowly sliding in and stretching you out.

It was tricky, the space wasn’t too small but between both seats he found a good spot to stand (or more so bend) and give you the first thrust that left your mouth hanging open. “So so so good,” You muttered with a shaky voice. “And? What else?” He loved the way you swallowed letters the moment he thrusted just a little harder. “You’re so fucking big, you do this so good, god Donnie nobody’s fucked me like you before” There was deep rumbling churr against your neck, he tasted salt and your perfume when he licked it.

“You’re the best, you’re the fucking best!” You moaned out, loud enough you felt embarrassment as somebody passed by. Naturally Donnie noticed, smirking against your neck. “Now we’re shy? Now you want to be a good girl?” He hooked an arm around your waist and absolutely threw caution to the god damn wind.

He sped up, deep thrusts that were fully determine to make you scream your head off. Right there with his hips smacking against your rear he spoke the words you knew would be your undoing.

“Scream for me, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel” He drove into you with that very purpose in mind. That long cock of his hitting exactly the spots you needed in order to do so. In order to scream your head off when your release came suddenly and so devastatingly strong, you felt something gush out of you. It’s intensity made your eyes shut tight as you rode the high. Feeling teeth at your shoulder and a muffled string of curses and your name you felt warmth shoot into you.

You don’t remember Donnie shuffling the two of you onto the couch but at some point you’re there. Body slumped, dress still scrunched up as Donnie rummages through a small bin for some wet wipes. “Did you cum on the chair again?” You asked him sleepily and with a smile, you still had enough gas in the tank for a few jabs. He had bag between his teeth as he stumbled to push up his pants. Dropping the wipes near you he smirked.

“No, but you did” He declared quite triumphantly.

Your foggy dopamine ridden brain took a bit to load.

“I squirted!?” You wanted to sit up but that wasn’t gonna happen any time soon. You covered your face, embarrassment clear. Donnie snorted and rubbed your rear affectionately. “Please, if it were up to me I’d leave it there like a badge of honor” He stifled another laugh when you peaked through hands and glared.

“By the way...” He kissed your arm.

“Hm?” The sensation lulled you.

“I love you” His words were soft yet serious.

“I love you more” You whispered back.