#I’ve got more to say but I’m being told by my assistant that I’m being sent to hell early for drawing osmosis jones Yaoi:-/

[repugnantbeast]

Shoutout to the little gay people that live inside of bill Murray

[sadesluvr]

Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present. 

A/N:  Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees. 

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers - 

How could you say no? 

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.  

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter. 

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully. 

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance. 

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away. 

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre. 

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. 

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded. 

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out. 

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator. 

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,” 

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute. 

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife. 

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…” 

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you. 

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering. 

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion. 

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Norris and Button traveling around the world together.

THE 2021 SEASON

PRE SEASON TESTING  Sakhir, Bahrein, 2021 

The McLaren office is silent as I scan over the list of reporters that will be present for the pre-season testing. This is my first time at a testing of Formula 1 and also my first day at the job as not an intern, but as a junior PR assistant. 

I’m nervous, again, just like I was the first day as an intern two years ago. Sophie isn’t here this week, she told me she wanted to see how I’d deal with this by myself, considering pre-season is supposed to be a bit more chill, as I only have to deal with the press and not the fans as well. 

As I finally finish jolting down the necessary notes, I get my phone and smooth down my skirt. I’m trying to appear more professional, wearing a skirt and a button down shirt. 

I walk out of McLaren and onto the eerily quiet paddock. I spot Lando talking to Daniel Ricciardo, his new teammate. The fellow brit waves me over and I smile walking to them. 

“Hey guys.” I smile, standing beside Lando who grins at me. 

Once again I have the same thought as I did earlier this week when I saw Lando for the first time since my five week vacation with my family. What the fuck. 

There was something different about him, I don’t know what it is, but he’s different. I don’t know if he changed something in his hair routine, or is trying out a new workout with his personal trainer. Or if he had an attitude change. There is something different about him, and I can’t get my heart to beat normally around him. 

The two McLaren drivers include me in their conversation and we carry on talking normally. There’s a new dynamic here, Daniel and Lando, the new duo, but they get along well and I can’t help but think that it’s because it’s humanly impossible to dislike Lando. He’s just so… Wow. 

“Mick!” I squeal in delight once I spot the new Haas driver walking side by side with Sebastian. 

Mick Shumacher smiles big once he sees me and I run to him, tackling him with a hug. He catches me with ease and spins me around before putting my feet back on the ground. 

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you here!” 

“I’m happy to see you here, as well!” He says back, matching grin on his face. 

Our eyes are wide and we look like hyperactive children. 

Sebastian sighs dramatically “Will we have to keep you both separated again?” 

Daniel smirks, piping into the conversation. 

“Again?”

Sebastian nods, looking as if he’s in pain. 

“They once set a car on fire.” 

Mick and I yell in protest. 

Daniel’s eyes are wide and Lando arches an eyebrow at me. 

“It was a plastic car.” I explain. 

“And someone who was supposed to be baby sitting us let us loose at the Red Bull garage” Mick complements. 

Daniel laughed delighted, throwing his head back and Lando cracks a small smile, which is extremely unsual of him.

“Hey, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian defends himself “She was an angel and you were an overall well behaved child. How would I know you’d corrupt her sweetness in such a short amount of time?” 

Mick grins as he shrugs “We weren’t that bad.” 

“Didn’t you call Kimi once because you two got drunk and he would be the nicest of the bunch to pick you up?” 

I smile at the memory “Yeah, we called Kimi and he took care of me and then yelled at Mick for being a bad influence.” 

Mick shudders as he recalls the night Kimi Raikonnen yelled at him as he scolded the Shumacher young boy. 

“Oh damn, the iceman went all out on you.” Daniel laughes again. 

This time Lando joins in on the laugher, but his eyes are focused on me and he has his arms crossed. 

Imola, Italy, 2021 

Lando has been a bit weird for past few weeks, ever since Bahrein, which is confusing. Pre season testing went great, the first race of the season he managed to get p4. Still, he was in a kind of bad mood. 

I’ve been watching the race intensely from the McLaren garage, once there are only four laps left, I go wait for him at parc fermé. Lando’s gonna get a podium, the first podium of the season and his second podium of his career. 

I try to keep a professional appearance as I stand at parc ferme. He parks his car at p3. He hasn’t taken off his helmet yet, but I can tell from his body language that he is buzzing with excitement. 

Lewis and Max clap him on the back and he runs to his team. I try to keep a smile at bay, I know there are lots of cameras on me right now, wanting to get the attention of the girl who only got the job because of her daddy. 

He takes off his helmet and balaclava after he weighs down and his eyes lock on me. 

Lando grins, placing his helmet at the table and takes large steps to where I am. Before I can even process he scoops me up in his arms and squishes my body. 

“I got p3.” He mumbled onto my neck. 

“You did. It was amazing.” I smile as I let him continue to squeeze me in a tight hug “Congratulations Lan.” 

“I did that.” He says, emphatically on the I. “You saw what I did, right? You were paying attention to me at the race, weren’t you?” 

I’m a bit confused at what he means by that, but nod. 

“Yes, of course, Lan.” 

“Good.” He mumbled, finally letting go of me, but his hands continued on my body “You’re here with me, Norris and Button traveling the world. No one else is part of that.” 

I nod, still not following what he means by that. Lando stares at me with those beautiful eyes and smiles. 

What is going on? 

Barcelona, Spain, 2021 

The Sainz family, as sweet and welcoming as ever, invited me and Lando to have dinner with them. It's Carlos' home race, but we all still keep our friendship up and his father loves to have us around, mostly Lando who shares his love for golf and I’m pretty sure became an honorary son to him. 

As we sit in a restaurant I take on the opportunity that Lando, who’s across from me, is engaged in a conversation with Caco, so I turn to Carlos. 

“Hey… have you also noticed that Lando has been acting a bit weird this year?” I ask him in a low tone so no one else but me, him and his girlfriend Isa can hear. 

Carlos’ tilt his head to the side a bit confused while Isa smiles fondly at me. 

“No, not really. He’s been normal.” 

Isa lightly taps his arm and they seem to have a silent conversation before Carlos turns to me again, a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. 

“Oh, pequeñita. You haven’t noticed yet, have you?” 

“Notice what?” I question him, even more confused than before. 

“It’s because of Shumacher.” 

I frown “Mick? What does Mick have to do with Lando’s weird behavior?” 

Isa laughs softly as she leans closer to me. 

“You know what that means, he’s jealous of Mick.” 

I widened my eyes incredulously. 

“Jealous? But why?!” 

The couple share another glance before Carlos pats my head in a sweet but annoying gesture. 

I grow a bit annoyed with the fact that they won’t tell me why, but I decide to keep quiet and not say anything else. I’ll just have to figure it out on my own. 

Le Castellet, France, 2021 

Daniel flanked me through the paddock, a frown on his usual smiley face. He was pissed, I had never seen him pissed off before. 

I had arrived at the paddock with him, Lando had arrived earlier as he rode with Carlos. 

When we got out of the van there were fans waiting for Daniel and he stopped for pictures and autographs. There was a small child with their parents who gushed me over, as they had been Jenson Button’s fans. They asked for a picture and I couldn’t say no when they were so sweet. And that’s when the shit show went down. 

Some fans, overhearing our conversation, started to shout bad words at me. They called me an opportunist, said I didn’t deserve my job, they called me a whore, accused me of sleeping with the drivers so I’d keep my job. 

I was frozen in place, I didn’t know how to react. I had never been publicly hated before, it was already horrible to read those things online, but hearing them being shouted to my face, it was much much worse. 

Daniel snapped the minute he heard those words. He told the fans off, called security and took me inside the paddock and quickly to the McLaren hospitality. 

Lando was lounging on the couch when Daniel slammed the door open, he was on his feet the minute he saw our body language. 

“What happened?” He rushed over to me. When I didn’t say anything he turned to Daniel “What happened?” 

“Some fucking assholes saying fucking bullshit to her.” Daniel answered angrily. 

And it’s like things finally clicked in place and I realized what happened. The tears came out in waves. 

Lando was quick to wrap his arms around me, cradling my head on the crock of his neck. 

Daniel explained to him what the fans had been saying outside the paddock and Lando only held me tighter as I cried. 

“Come on, let’s go to my driver's room.” He mumbled once he realized some of the McLaren staff had been looking at us. “You’ll be much more comfortable there, love.” 

Still keeping me in his arms, he walked me to his driver's room, closing the door shut behind us. He guides me to the couch, sitting me in between his legs and still holding me close. 

Lando caressed my hair as he whispered reassuring words into my ear. 

“I’ll never be good enough for them.” I sob onto his neck “No matter what I do, I will never be able to prove myself. I should just give up… yeah, yeah… I’m gonna quit my job.” 

“Hey, no!” Lando says sternly. He pulls my face off his neck and cups it in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’re not quitting. I’m not letting you give up, that’s not happening. Not now, not ever.” 

He wipes away my tears with his thumbs. 

“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough.” He tells me. “You have been doing an amazing job. You’re not here because of your father.” 

“But my dad helped me get this job.” I protest, still softly crying. 

“Yes, he did help you get the job and you never denied it, you’ve been vocal about getting this jump start.” He nods “But it wasn’t your dad that made you keep the job. It wasn’t your dad that made you get the promotion from intern to junior assistant. It was all you. It was your talent, your professionalism, your hard work. It was you, only you.” 

I stare at him, processing his words. 

“And those assholes that said those things to you? They are nothing but pathetic people who need to put others down to feel good about themselves. You don’t owe them anything. “ 

I nod slowly, my tears finally slowing down as he still has my face in between his hands. Lando smiles softly at me. 

“You are incredible, love, I wish you could see how amazing you are.” 

He leans in, placing a soft tender kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, enjoining his affection. 

Lando lets go of my face, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he leans back on the couch, making me lie on his chest. One of his hands rests on my hip, holding me close. 

I take a deep breath, snuggling against him and keeping my eyes closed. 

Silverstone, England, 2021 

“And then, he refuses to let her buy her own records!” I exclaim to Lando. “So she didn’t own her own music anymore. The music she worked her whole life on!” 

We were sitting at the McLaren hospitality together. It was way too hot outside at the Silverstone circuit so the two of us were sitting inside, where there was air conditioning, and we were having ice cream. 

“But, Taylor is really smart, and she decided to re-record her albums. So if there is a Taylor’s version after it it means she owns it. And she releases songs from the vault that are songs she wrote originally for that album but that got cut off.” 

Lando nods along to what I’m saying, a small smile on his lips. 

“And she’s releasing… purple Taylor’s version in November?” He asks me. 

I chuckle, “It’s red Taylor’s version.” 

“Oh, I see…” he hums “Why red?” 

“It’s her favorite color. Oh, I can’t wait to dress in full red on the release album date.” 

“That’s a no.” He shakes his head. 

I tilt my head to the side confused “What do you mean that’s a no?” 

“I’m not letting you dress in red! Red is Ferrari’s color and you're a McLaren girl.” 

I place a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue before smiling mischievously at him. 

“Everybody is a Ferrari fan.” I tease him.

“No! No! You’re not quoting Sebastian Vettel to me!” He exclaims dramatically “I already lost my best friend to Ferrari, I can’t lose my girl too!” 

I felt the blush taking control of my cheeks when he called me his girl. 

“Not happening. Doesn’t she have a papaya album?” 

I shake my head, still a bit dazed with his words. 

“The closest she has to an orange tone is her evermore album that is more of a terracota.” 

Lando nods “That works for me, it’s better than a red themed one.” 

I giggle at him, poking his side.

“I can’t believe you’re mad over an album color theme.” 

He rolls his eyes, but he has an affectionate smile on his face. 

Magyórod, Hungry, 2021 

The knocking on the door startled me awake. I jump in bed, rubbing my eyes as I click on the screen of my phone. It’s midnight. I frown wondering who it could be at this time of night. 

I throw the blankets to the side as I pad quietly to the door. I open just a tiny bit to see who it is. 

Lando smiles big when he sees my face. I sigh in relief that it’s a familiar person, I open the door wider and there he is. Standing in a hoodie and sweatpants and holding a birthday cake. 

“Happy birthday!” He exclaims.

I widen my eyes, having completely forgotten it is my birthday. 

“Thank you, Lan!” I smile, stepping to the side to let him into the room. 

Lando walks to the table and places the cake there. I follow him close behind as I look at the beautifully decorated cake. In a cursive letter it’s written I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22! 

“Oh my god, you got me a Taylor Swift birthday cake!” 

Lando grins before wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. 

“Of course, how couldn’t I get a 22 birthday themed cake for the 22 year old girl who’s obsessed with Taylor Swift?” 

I smile as I squeeze him in the hug. 

“You’re the best of the best of the best!” I squeak happily. 

He smiles before kissing my temple.

“You only deserve the best.” 

We stayed hugging for a few more minutes, enjoying the hug before pulling away. I smile at him again, that’s all I do when I’m around him, and I grab his hand pulling him towards the bed. 

“Sleep over?” I ask softly as he sits together in the fluffy bed. 

“Yes.” He nods. 

Lando looks nervous for a moment and I get concerned I might have crossed a boundary of asking him to stay over, although it won’t be the first time we slept on the same bed. 

He sighs before putting his hand inside his hoodie pocket and pulling out a velvet box from inside of it. He smiles nervously before handing it to me. 

“Your birthday present.” He mumbled 

I gasp as I open the box. Inside of it there’s a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant is a heart with its outside full of tiny pink swarovskis. I take the delicate jewelry in my hands as I turn it around, on the back of the heart it’s written LN. 

“Lando…” I murmur 

“I-I wanted to have my… my initials on it so you ’d… so you’d always have me close to you.” He mumbled awkardly, his cheeks pink.

“It’s beautiful.” I smile “I love it. Thank you.” 

I turn back to him and pull my hair to the side “Can you put it on me, please?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Lando’s hands are a bit shaky as he places the necklace around my neck, his fingertips bringing goosebumps to my skin. 

I turn around again and his eyes fall to my neck and chest, where the heart necklace he gave me rests. He smiles proudly. 

“It looks beautiful on you.” He said, lifting his eyes to look at me “You’re beautiful.” 

I smile, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Lan. I’m never taking this off.” 

He grins harder, leaning over and placing a kiss on my cheek as well. 

SUMMER BREAK 

Mallorca, Spain, 2021 

“Retirement huh?” I ask Kimi Raikkonen as we’re enjoining the beach in Mallorca 

It’s not usual for the Raikkonen family to join us during summer break, along with the Rosbergs and Vettels. Lewis used to come along with Roscoe but since his fallout with Nico he never joined us again - even after when I was seventeen and I called him crying asking him to join us because my dad was retiring and we should all spend one last summer together. He came, after Nico left. Those dramatic middle aged men. 

Kimi gives me a lazy smile, which also isn’t usual contrary to popular belief. He has his sunglasses on and is building a sandcastle with me and his two children, Robin and Rianna. 

“Eh, racing is a hobby and I got tired of it.” He shrugs “Now I’m more into dirty bike riding.” 

I chuckle, shaking my head “Somehow that sounds even worse than driving cars in circles.” 

Robin gives me a bright smile as he says “Don’ wowwy, I race car soon in Formula 1 and you cheer I!” 

I smile at him, ruffling his blonde hair “Of course, Rob! I wouldn’t dare to cheer for anyone else but you!” 

The little boy seems content as he goes back to building the sandcastle. Rianna actually grew bored of it a few minutes ago and is now busy with playing, tugging, at my hair. 

“Who’s he?” Kimi asks suddenly. 

“What?” I frown confused. 

“The boy who gave you the necklace.” 

“Oh.” I feel my cheeks warm up, truth to my words I have indeed been wearing the necklace Lando gave me all the time. “Lando gave me as a birthday gift.” 

I can see the furrow on Kimi’s eyebrows even if he’s wearing sunglasses. 

“That thing made a move on you?!” He exclaims “I’m running him off track when we’re back from summer break.” 

“What? No!” I shake my head “It’s just a necklace.” 

“A custom heart shaped necklace! It’s like he has a death wish or something.” He whips his head to the side “Sebastian! Come here! Now!” 

Seb, who was peacefully napping under the umbrella, sits startled at Kimi’s urgent call. He runs to us. 

“Norris made a move on her!” 

“What?” Sebastian asks scandalized “He did what? That little asshole!” 

“He didn’t do anything, Seb.” I explain as I point to my necklace “Kimi is just freaking out over the birthday gift Lando gave me.” 

Seb sits on the sand beside me, leaning closer to scan the necklace. 

“Yeah, I’m running him off track when the summer break is over.” 

“That’s what I said!” Kimi smiles big “We’re running him off track together so he doesn’t have anywhere to escape to.” 

Seb hums, nodding his head “That’s a good plan.” 

I look at them in exasperation “No one is running anyone off track.” 

They ignore me as they keep plotting. 

“Hey!” I snap at them and the two grown men finally look at me “Lando and I are just friends, stop this. And even if we weren’t, I’m 22, I’m allowed to date.” 

They share a look before laughing. 

“No, you’re not allowed to date.” Seb says, still chuckling “You’re funny, prinzessin.” 

I glare at them but they only continue to laugh at me. 

“You’re still the first pieni vauva, you always will be.” Kimi grins at me “And that means you’re only allowed to date when you’re… fifty.” 

“You’re both ridiculous.” I scoff but I have a small smile on my lips. 

Deep down I know they don’t actually mean it. But I have to keep an eye out so that they won’t threaten Lando or something like that. 

Monza, Italy, 2021 

“You’re here!” Lando yelled over the loud music, arms open wide and a drink in his hand. He was for sure already drunk. 

Daniel had won the Monza Grand Prix and Lando came just in second, it was the first time in his F1 career he had gotten p2. The team had decided to go out to celebrate at a club and some other drivers joined in - Max Verstappen, who had a terrible race and dnf, was there drinking the night away to celebrate his best friend and also drown his feelings. 

I stepped up to where Lando stood and smiled at him. 

“Yeah, sorry it took me too long.” I let him hug me “I couldn’t decide what to wear.” 

Lando grabbed my hand, twirling me around and whistling as my sparkly short blue dress shone under the club lights. 

“You certainly made a great choice.” He smirked at me “You look incredible.” 

I feel my cheeks grow warm. 

“Thank you.” 

I went over to the bar to order myself a drink and Lando followed me close behind. As I stood leaning over the bar to order my drink, I could feel his warm chest against my back. 

I stood up straight as I waited for the bartender, and I tilted my head to the side to look at Lando who was already looking down on me. 

He's wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, but he’s wearing his damn cap backwards. He always looks fucking good when he wears it backwards and it actually makes me weak in the knees seeing him so up close like this, his chest pressed against my back.

I’m snapped out of it when the bartender hands me my drink. I thank him before letting Lando lead me back to where the rest of our group is. I sip on my drink, letting the alcohol flow through me and relax me. 

Carlos is dancing with Charles while Max laughs at their terrible moves. Daniel is screaming the music as he hugs Zac and they both sway side to side. 

I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they look. 

Lando grins at me as he’s sitting on a stool, his left arm resting on top of the table. 

“Come here.” He says as he wiggles two of his fingers for me to get closer. 

When I’m at reach distance, he turns me around and pulls me to stand in between his legs. My back hits his chest and he wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me close. 

My breath hitches as he does this so effortlessly and as if it’s normal to hug me from behind. 

“They’re gonna be all over Instagram and Twitter tomorrow.” Lando whispers in my ear “They look ridiculous.” 

I chuckle “They really do.” I sip my drink “Aren’t you gonna join them?” 

I feel his laugh against the side of my face. 

“Are you calling me ridiculous?” He asks in feign hurt. 

I giggle, craning my neck a bit to the side so I can see his face. He has a smug smile on his lips. 

“You ridiculous? Never!” I giggle harder when he squeezes my waist in a playful warning “It’s just that usually you’re the life of the party and right now you’re sitting on a stool drinking peacefully.” 

Lando smiles, his dimples even more evident as the pulsing lights of the club shine on his face. 

“Can you blame me for wanting to stay here with the prettiest girl in the club?” 

Once again I feel my cheeks grow warm, but since I’ve already had drunk, my mind is a bit dazed so I smile at him. 

“Really? And where is this pretty girl?” I ask him in a tease. 

He smirks, squeezing my waist again and relishing in me squirming against his chest. 

“She’s right here… in my arms.” He mumbled before placing a long lasting kiss on my cheek. “The prettiest girl in the club.” He moves his lips a bit down and kisses my jaw “The prettiest girl I have ever seen.” 

I feel my heart flutter in my chest at his words and at his touch. I know he’s drunk and doesn’t mean any of it, but for a night I can pretend he does mean it, so I let him hold me close. 

Cidade do México, México, 2021 

“Oh, Mick…” I whisper as I hug him, softly rubbing his back “It’s okay… this kind of thing happens.” 

Mick huffs annoyed against my shoulder. He crashed into Yuki Tsnuoda during the race today and they both had a DNF. 

“You’re both rookies… that’s normal to happen.” 

I apparently said the wrong thing because the German boy lifted his head from my shoulder, our face millimeters apart as he glared at me. 

“Don’t say things that aren’t true.” He mumbled angrily “You’re not even a driver.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him “There’s no need to take out your frustration on me, I’m not the one who crashed your car.” 

We keep staring at each other, waiting for the other to back down. Eventually Mick sighs and goes back to burying his head on my shoulder as he continues to complain about it being unfair. 

I don’t say anything, knowing that if I do we will end up having a fight, just like it happened when we were younger and he crashed into Formula 3 - he kept whining about the crash that had been his own fault and I called him out on it. We didn’t speak for three weeks. 

“There you are!” Lando’s voice cut through the silence of one of the cool down rooms of the paddock. 

He gave Mick an unimpressed look and a glare. 

“Hi, Lan.” I smile at him. 

Ever since our little encounter at the club right after the Monza Grand Prix things between us have been different. He certainly kept touching me every chance he got and I wasn’t going to complain about it when in reality I loved to be wrapped in his arms. 

“I need you for something.” He said, and I tilt my head confused as I was off the clock “It’s important. Please.” 

“Sure.” I nod as Mick lifts his head from my shoulder and away from me “Take care, Mick.” 

The Shumacher boy looks at me with a slight pout of being deprived of comfort after his DNF, but didn’t say anything as Lando grabbed my hand and got me out of the cooldown room. 

We walked in silence for a moment before we entered the paddock’ parking garage. Lando opened the back door of the van and helped me up inside before sitting beside me and taping the driver on the shoulder to signal we’re ready to go. 

“So… burritos?” He asked. 

“What?” I blink at him 

“Do you want burritos for dinner? And some tacos? And nachos?” 

“I… you…” I’m at a loss of words for a moment as I catch up to what he’s done “You called me here to help you because you want dinner?” 

Lando nods, a sly smile on his face as he shifts his body on the back seat to take a better look at me. 

“Yes, I’m hungry. That’s why I need your help, to have dinner with me.” 

I can’t help but laugh at his audacity and then a memory comes up to my brain. Back in Spain, at the beginning of the season when I asked Carlos about Lando acting weird and Isa told me he was jealous. Jealous of Mick. 

“Why don’t you like Mick?” I ask, catching him off guard. 

Lando is momentarily stunned before he shakes his head. 

“I do not not like him.” 

“Yes, you do.” I say, a slight frown on my forehead “Whenever I’m with him you’re either glaring, snappy or you find excuses to drag me away.” 

He avoids my eyes for a moment, looking at the rooftop of the car before finally looking at me again. 

“It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that…” he trails off and is quiet again for a moment before he grumbles “He hogs all your attention.” 

“Oh God, he’s my childhood friend and I don’t even spend that much of a time with him.” 

“Do you like him?” He asks me. 

I look at him stunned “What?” 

Lando rolls his eyes “Do you like Shumacher? Like, do you have a crush on him or something?” 

“No. He’s my childhood friend.” I repeat my words from earlier. “Why?”

He shrugs and won’t look at me. 

I huff “Don’t do this, Lando.” 

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes “Don’t do what?” 

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” I cross my arms over my chest. 

He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. We both look at the opposite windows of the car, watching as Mexico City passes by in a blur. 

Doha, Qatar, 2021 

Lando and I weren’t talking. Well, mostly he wasn’t talking to me after Mexico. During the Brazilian Grand Prix and his 22nd birthday, I snuck into his hotel room and left this gift there. 

It was a small golden bracelet, it had his full name and race number on it. I left a sweet message alongside it, hoping he would get the hint of what I meant. I guess he did get the hint and didn’t like it because I woke up after the Brazilian Grand Prix to see Instagram and Twitter flooded with pictures of him making out with some girl at a club in São Paulo. 

And now I was the one not talking to him because he has been texting me and calling me non stop on the two week break in between races. 

I asked Sophie to take care of this scandal of him as I had never dealt something like that before and didn’t know where to start, so I just stayed on the sidelines watching her do her job and learning - in all honesty I just didn’t want to have to deal with him after seeing him kiss some random girl. 

I was heartbroken and I didn’t want to let anyone know about it because if Kimi or Seb caught wind of this… I might be sad, but I’d like to keep Lando alive. 

“Stop looking so sad…” Daniel pokes my arm “Those big sad eyes of yours… I can’t handle it.” 

We were sitting together as we were waiting for the press conference to begin. 

“I’m not sad.” I lied, “I’m just tired.” 

“C’mon!” He all but whines “We’ve been working together for almost a year now, I know you’re lying.” 

I don’t say anything so Daniel keeps talking “He’s sad too, you know.” 

I give him a side eyed glance as I mumble “I don’t know who is this he you’re referring to.” 

He sighs exasperated. 

“You should talk to him.” He says after a few minutes of silence “Lando misses you.” 

“No. I got his message loud and clear.” I shake my head, feeling the stupid tears gather in my eyes once again “I don’t need him to say it to my face. From now on we’re just… work colleagues.” 

“But you’re not just work colleagues, you’re way more than that and you know it. Also, you both are dumb asses who got this all wrong.” 

I turn to look at Daniel, the stubborn tears ready to spill out onto my cheeks. 

“How did I get it wrong, Daniel? I wrote him a note basically saying he’s the best thing that has ever happened in my life and that he meant so much more to me than just a friendship that blossomed because of work.” I say wobbly as I refused to let the tears roll down from my eyes “And he went out and kissed someone else. Things have never been more clear to me. I was just a fool and stupid.” 

Daniel says my name softly, but I shake my head. 

“The press conference is about to start, get in the room. I’ll be waiting for you here.” 

The Australian man sighs before nodding and following my instructions. He gives me one more look over the shoulder and I hate how he seems to pity me right now. 

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2021 

I didn’t go to the anual Abu Dhabi McLaren end of season party. Instead I went out to dinner with the Raikkonen family. 

Tonight has been Kimi’s last race of his Formula 1 career and I wanted to be there with him for his last night. I’ve known him my whole life, I was the flower girl at his wedding and I had been the first baby in his life. Right now being with family seems better. I need this. 

I decided not to be secretive about my motives of not being at the McLaren party as I posted a picture hugging Kimi on Instagram. 

Old man retired. Now that you’re out of f1 I can finally say it: you’ve always been my favorite. Love you Setä Kimi 🥺💙

After dinner, Sebastian drove me back to the hotel. He had been quiet most of the night and I can tell he is sad. All of his friends have retired, now it’s just him, Lewis and Fernando who have decided to come back. 

Once we’re out of the car and entering the elevator I turn to him. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to leave as well.” I whisper. 

He chuckles softly “I can’t say I’m not considering it. I’m getting old.” 

“No, you’re not old.” I shake my head. “You’re not even forty yet!” 

“But I’m not at my prime anymore. I only got one podium this year.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” I argued back. “You switched teams, you’re still getting used to the car! You can’t leave!” 

Suddenly it was like it had all hit me at once, the changes of it all. Kimi was leaving, he isn’t coming back next year. I’m not talking to Lando, who has been by my side since I started this job. And now Seb wants to leave as well. 

“Hey, prinzessin, no, please don’t cry.” 

I didn’t even notice the tears falling down my face as Sebastian hugged me tight. He caressed my hair in a soothing manner, like he used to do when I was a child. 

We were standing in the middle of the hallway of the hotel. He rocked me gently in his arms, shushing me. 

When I finally calmed down, Sebastian spoke again, his voice gentle. 

“You need to talk to Lando.” 

Before I could protest he continued to talk. “I know you’re not only crying because Kimi is leaving and I’m considering retirement. You need to talk to help, fix things between you two before it’s too late.” 

“There’s nothing to fix…” I whisper sadly “He… I… I really like him, Seb. But he doesn’t feel the same way.” 

“You’re kidding right?” He chuckled amused “That boy is head over heels for you.” 

I open my mouth, but once again he cuts me off “I know what he did. He told me.” 

“He… told you?” I question with a frown “And you’re still telling me to go talk to him?” 

Sebastian nodded “Yes. He was desperate, he misses you so much and doesn’t know what to do anymore to get you to talk to him. He’s… hopeless, but he likes you too.” 

When Sebastian left me in my hotel room, tucked into bed warm and safe with a kiss on the forehead, I kept replaying his words in my mind. 

Lando likes me. That sounds weird. But I also know Sebastian would never ever lie to me about something like that. 

I text Daniel asking him if Lando has already left the party. Daniel answers me with a yes in big bold letters and lots of exclamation marks. 

I pace back and forth in my hotel room before slipping on my shoes. I open the mini fridge and get to mini liquor bottles. I dart out of my room and soon enough I’m standing in front of Lando’s room. 

I take a deep breath before I knock on the door. 

There are a few moments of silence, I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I hear the lock turn and soon enough Lando is standing in front of me. His green eyes are rimmed red and he looks like he has been crying. 

He whispers my name, a slight tone of disbelief. 

“We didn’t toast to another year of Norris and Button traveling the world together.” I say. 

We stare at each other before he smiles and ushers me inside. 

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

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

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

 “Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet. 

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。RIGOR — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. mild injuries (al-haitham), established relationship, fluff, really bad banter, al-haitham is left handed because i say so

notes. literally just 2k embarrassing words of you taking care of al-haitham after he’s injured from a trip to the desert. yeah.

“that stings,” al-haitham hisses, glaring at you—which earns him an equally as harsh glare back. “why don’t you just pour the entire bottle of antiseptic down my arm at this rate?

“don’t yell at me,” you hiss back, scowling as you dab at the (already clean) wound some more, “i’m not the one who came back with this. why didn’t you get it checked?”

to your utter dismay, al-haitham comes home from a visit to the desert injured. gravely.

well, truth be told, it’s not really grave. that’s just how you see it because anything beyond a scratch is enough to throw you into a fit of panic. he’s not really used to coming home to someone fretting over him like this—standing between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, dabbing ever so gently at the small (and hardly deep, he’d like to point out) cut on his arm.

running into eremites is an inevitable part of most visits to desert ruins. usually, al-haitham manages to come back unscathed, but sometimes, things don’t always go accordingly. in his defense, he’d thought he’d be able to dodge the blade of the eremite he happened to be fighting. al-haitham has the precision and athletic ability to not only manage, but excel at dodging things that are thrown at him. but still, even he has his moments of miscalculation, and just by a hair, he feels the sting of a blade’s edge tearing through the surface of his skin.

it’s unfortunate, but it’s not a big deal—at least, that’s what he thought. apparently, but not unusually, you have a tendency to disagree with him on most things.

“i was going to check it myself,” he says simply, “it would’ve been fine.”

“oh, i didn’t realize you graduated in linguistics and biology,” you raise a brow.

al-haitham is a well rounded man—he reads books from just about any subject so long as it’s informative and offers him new knowledge that can assist him in being well versed in any topic. more importantly, al-haitham rarely loses arguments, and in order to be able to always win said arguments, his understanding of most subjects is required to be thorough.

he knows how to treat a small wound or two, especially with as often as he lands himself in small fights as he explores ruins.

he looks up at you with an unimpressed stare as he mumbles, “i’ve taken at least a few classes from every darshan.”

“i hate you,” you huff. he exhales tiredly.

“it’s only a cut,” he argues, “there’s no need to be so worried—”

“i’m always worried,” you sigh, staring dejectedly at the injury littering his arm. no one should ever leave a mark over his skin—unless it’s you, and that’s only in a very different context. “does it hurt?” you ask quietly.

a small part of him feels guilty that he’s worried you over his well being, that he’s come home harmed even the slightest bit and disrupted your peace. but the larger and more rational part of him reasons that injuries of this nature are common and inevitable in trips to the desert like this, and he’s skilled enough to ensure that nothing serious ever happens.

still, for your sake, he mumbles, “no.”

it’s a bit of a white lie—it does sting a bit, and the antiseptic you pressed just a few moments ago didn’t exactly help, but admitting to you that he’s in any sort of pain is only opening up more avenues to making this into a larger deal than it really is.

al-haitham is fine, and he’s doesn’t need anything for the slightly inconvenient but not serious laceration on his skin. he’s sure of that.

but then, you cup his cheeks and press a small kiss to his forehead as you murmur, “my poor baby,” with a small pout, “i’ll feed you dinner, okay? they got your left arm.”

he wants to tell you that his motor skills are good enough that he can function with his non dominant hand—being left handed in a world catered for right handed individuals forces you to acquire functionality in both hands. but before he can open his mouth, you kiss down his cheeks, tracing your lips along him until they map out his jaw.

it distracts him for a moment, making hie eyes close and his breath hitch as he lets your warmth settle into the deepest crevices of his skin.

“don’t worry, haitham, i’ll take care of you until this heals,” you murmur sweetly.

and just like that, al-haitham is a bit conflicted now. in his two plus decades of life, he has always been an independent and capable individual—more than most his age. he doesn’t need the assistance of anyone, nor has he ever really needed the assistance of anyone. but you’re making it very hard to resist with the way you’re doting on him with affection.

“i’m fine,” he tries to argue, “really—”

“i should run you a bath,” you mumble, cutting him off. he gets the strong feeling you’re taking more to yourself than him. “and i’ll wash your hair for you too.”

even with the self control someone like him has, even he can’t help but sigh in content when your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the strands and scratching gently at his scalp. it’s a bit nice—he has to admit that being taken care of, even as minimally as fingers in his hair, is nice.

“you don’t have to do all that,” he mutters.

“i don’t want you moving that arm,” you huff, “would it kill you to stop acting high and mighty for once? most people would take advantage of being spoiled.”

“i don’t enjoy taking advantage of others like most people,” he shrugs.

“you know what i mean,” you glower, rolling your eyes.

it’s a common understanding to most that al-haitham is a bit difficult—you don’t think you ever remember a time where he hasn’t been. he’s stubborn and always believes his views to be correct, and he’s not ashamed of arguing his point no matter who it is. you’re surprised that mouth of his hasn’t landed him in trouble yet—although, you suppose he’s not exactly in the good graces of most at the akademiya.

and as the akademiya’s acting grand sage, you admire his unwillingness to back down. but, as your boyfriend and the man you love, you wish he’d just compromise sometimes—and maybe let you wash his hair and hand feed him dinner for a bit as you nurse his injury back to health.

just this once….and maybe just a few more times later on too. you don’t ask for much, you like to think.

“i’ve gotten injuries like this before,” he reasons, “i’ve survived.”

you look at him with that delicate look of yours, the one that makes him feel like maybe he’s been living his life wrong this whole time. that it only became correct once his life involved you.

he thinks that’s might just be the case when you grin slightly, pinching his nose as you lean down, pecking his forehead and mumbling, “you don’t always have to just survive. you can indulge a bit, you know.”

“is that so?” he raises a brow, his good arm snaking around your hips.

“yes,” you hum, “if you give it a try, you might just enjoy indulging here and there,” you grin, stroking a thumb over his cheek as you admire his features, relearning every curve and every angle of his face. you don’t think you’d ever get bored like this—just standing in your bathroom, staring at him. you think you could comfortably stay right here like this forever.

maybe longer.

“i see,” he says slowly. al-haitham has always had a strong sense of control. but that was before you—he’s now forced to admit that his resolve is a bit weaker, just a bit shakier after you’ve come along. “does this begin with washing my hair?”

“and feeding you dinner,” you nod, tracing your thumb over his brow, letting it wander along the hook of his nose. “do you want me to kiss your arm better too?”

“is that really going to help?” he asks in amusement, making you giggle.

“oh yes,” you tease, “it was in a class i took from amurta. you probably didn’t take it—it’s far too rigorous for you.”

“oh,” he nods playfully, “of course. you’ll have to excuse my lack of understanding. not everyone can be as advanced as you.”

“here,” you grin—and it’s wide, and it’s warm, and it’s far too bright to ever be dimmed by the light of your bathroom as you stare at him, “i can demonstrate if you want. hands-on learning is always the best.”

“i must ask—have you ever learned hands-on like this with anyone else?” he raises a brow.

“and if i have? would that make you jealous?”

“perhaps a little,” he admits, fighting desperately to keep his own smile hidden. it’s hard not to smile when you’re around—how could he not when you swallow the sun with your lips every time they curve upwards in that honeyed way that they do?

“don’t worry,” you giggle again—and god, he thinks, he really loves that sound. he watches you lean down and kiss softly along the edges of his wound, tracing the cut slowly as you say, “you’re my only academic partner now.”

“i’m most grateful.”

“well?” you peck his shoulder, “a kiss helps, doesn’t it?”

“it does,” he chuckles quietly, “maybe you can show me a bit more.”

he’s given into you completely by now—you can tell by the way his body is relaxed on the edge of the bathtub. you can tell by that easy grin plastered on his usually blank face. you can tell by the way he leans into your touch every chance he gets. you can tell by the way he asks you to kiss his wound some more—the same wound he didn’t think you needed to care about.

but you always care, and he’s starting to understand you always will. so he stares at you hopefully, expecting just a few more presses of your lips.

so you do, kissing along his arm, peppering scattered pecks along his shoulder, pressing your lips gently along the column of his neck as he sighs softly and closes his eyes.

maybe being taken care of isn’t so bad—maybe he’s been missing out all this time….but then again, he thinks it’s just that he’s always been missing you. like he was born to find you. like he was made to be yours and you were made to be his and you both were made for each other if nothing else.

if nothing else, al-haitham is glad to be yours.

“does it still hurt?” you ask after some time.

“just a little,” he lets himself admit, “it’s nothing i’ve never dealt with before.”

“you really worried me you know,” you breathe quietly, making him squeeze your hips in reassurance, “don’t hide next time you’re hurt.”

“and will you kiss me back to health if i tell you?” he hums, leaning his head back to let you kiss his jaw easier.

you smile against his skin, letting your touch linger for a moment before you mumble, “of course, it’s only the best treatment. only those who take rigorous classes would know that.”

“good thing i have you to teach me.”

“yes, you’re really quite lucky,” you say with a cheeky smile.

there’s a warm bath waiting for him after this. and a hand fed meal. and perhaps a few more gentle kisses. but most certainly a lifetime of you—that much he knows.

i feel like i’m borderline violating myself by posting this bc it’s so self indulgent but here u go

[runnning-outof-time]

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[cocosvalentine]

Crisis Averted

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis. it was meant to be a simple day of relaxation but you work for Rafayel so days like this don’t exist the only solution is putting him in his place but it seems he enjoyed it more than you wanted him to

Pairing. Reader x Rafayel

Content. sub Rafayel, dom reader, teasing, degrading, oral fem receiving, object insertion, edging, overstimulating, pet names, dacryphilia, sexual content, breeding ( if you squint ), SMUT, NSFW, uhhh idk what else el oh el :3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

           A soft hum leaves your lips as the sound of smooth jazz fills the room. You moaned in delight as you dipped your body further into the comfort of the warm bath. Finally, a day off which was long overdue. With an increase of wanderers and protecting or rather looking after Rafayel, your body was beyond sore and needed to relax. But it was shortly interrupted by the sound of a familiar ring. “Fuck” you groaned under your breath as you grabbed your phone. “Hello,” the word came out more angered than you had hoped. “I’m sorry to interrupt you on your day off it’s just I haven’t been able to get in touch with Rafayel; he’s even gone and locked himself in his studio. We have an important meeting with a buyer but he’s been acting out and I need your assistance” you groan at the news that Thomas shared about Rayafel's recent outburst. 

           “I’ll be right over” The water splashes around you as you reassure him that you’ll settle the matter with the stubborn artist. You hear a sigh of relief from the other hand as he sings praises to you but it doesn’t help quell your anger of your relaxation being interrupted. You quickly get dressed as you rush over hoping to settle this quickly. Using the spare key Rayael gave you, you slam open the door spooking Rayafel in the process. “Damn it Thomas” he mutters under his breath as he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He quickly looked away a clear pout placed on his face. 

           “Are you going to tell me what this is about or do I have to force it out of you Rafayel” You see the way his body shivers at the sound of his name leaving your lips. “It’s none of your concern” he simply says trying to ignore how your eyes stare deep into his soul. “Oh? If that was the case I wouldn’t be called here on my day off all 'cause you wanna be a brat isn’t that right” your tone is cold as you speak slowly approaching him. Rayafel remains on the ground his paintbrushes surrounding him and dry paint litter the floor. “You could have simply ignored his call” he crosses his arms as he speaks his pout deepens but his eyes never once waver from their position on the ground. 

           “Hmm, how long do you plan on looking at the ground my eyes are up here” he flinches at your word as his eyes slowly raise to meet yours for a mere second before looking away once more. “Rafayel I’m sure I’ve made it clear that I expect full eye contact when we speak” he ignores your words as his eyes studies the floor. His breath hitches as a pained whimper leaves his lips at the harsh feel of you tugging his hair. Your nails dig into his scalp as he stares deep into your eyes the only noticeable emotion is anger. 

           “It’s Thomas's fault…I already told him I had no plans on selling the painting but he went behind my back and…” His words are cut off as you release your grip pushing him back down. “Yet you can’t respond like a grown man, instead you're in here sulking like a little brat who got his candy stolen. I don’t care what's going on between you and Thomas, what I want to know is how you're going to make it up to me for ruining my day off” he scoffs at your words as he crosses his arms upset at being blamed for something he had no part in or so he believed. “Hmm, it seems I haven’t made myself clear. Either you lose that fucking attitude before I fuck it out of you. Or perhaps you want me to strap you to your bed again and edge you like the little whore you are” A blush emerges on his face at your words. 

           “Thats not fair I’m not even the one who called why am I being punished” hr argues as you roll your eyes in response. “You decided to be a little brat, you decided to lock yourself in your studio, your actions started all of this so the next thing I expect out of that whore mouth is ‘I’m sorry ma’am’ Do you hear me Rafayel” you watch as he grinds his teeth a blush embracing his face as he stares at the ground. “I’m sorry” he whispers those words hardly loud enough for you to hear. “What was that I can quite hear you” you taunt before pressing your heels against his crotch. He inhaled sharply at the feel of your foot pressing harshly against his crotch. “I’m sorry ma’am” The words came out in a strangled breath it was clear he was trying to bite back a moan. “Hmm, I'm not sure if you truly mean that, strip” he jerks his head up at your command. 

           He quickly looks away as he slowly stands. You watch as he strips at a teasingly slow pace. “It would be wise to hurry up, I don’t have all day” As those words leave your lips he quickly rushes to discard the rest of his clothes. You scoff at the sight of his cock throbbing and leaking. “Fuck you really are a pathetic little whore, I didn’t even do much and you're already dripping. Are you really that needy for me to use you like the whore you are” he continues to avoid your gaze as you circle him but the way his cock twitches seems to give you the answer you desire. Grabbing his cock a stifled whine leaves his lips, “Aww what happened you were so ready to bite back after every word” he bites his lips further at your taunting words. 

           Letting go of his cock you reach down and grab his belt, “Hands behind your back” you smirk watching how quickly he listens to your command. Wrapping his belt around his wrist you make sure to tighten it before pushing him to the ground. You turn him onto his back using your heels as you press it against his chest. He looks up to you his eyes so full of need, begging for you’re touch. You trail your foot down towards his cock pressing it harshely as a startled cry leaves his lips. You press down further watching how his back arches and his eyes begin to tear up. Fuck did he look perfect. 

           Lifting your foot you bring it closer to his face as you press it against his lips, his tongue quickly darts out as he begins to lick and suck at your heel. You chuckle at the sight you hardly needed to commend him when he was so desperate. “On your knees” you order as you remove your heel from his lips. He rises to his knees his hands tied behind his back as he looks up at you awaiting his next order. He watches you slightly confused as you pick up a few items. Kneeling before him you grab his cock causing a whimper to leave his lips. His eyes widened watching how you place a make-shift cock ring with his shoe tie. He whimpers at the tight and restricting feeling but he can’t deny how good it made him feel. 

           You push him down a bit as you sit behind him, you watch how his hips tremble at the feel of your salvia dripping onto his ass. Stroking his cock you gather a bit of his precum before mixing it with your saliva. Soft moans leave his lips as he watches patiently wondering what you had up your sleeve. “I do hope you remember this is a punishment” you taunt watching how his eyes widen at the sight of the paintbrush in your hand. A choked gasp escapes his lips as he feels you pushing the paintbrush into his ass. His body trembles feeling the foreign object push deeper into his aching hole. “Ma-ma’am this f-feels strange” he whined before feeling another insert him this one was much thicker. 

           Heavy pants left his lips as you continued to push more inside him stretching him more than he thought was possible. “Hmm is this really all you can fit” your words are cold as you scoff in annoyance. “Make sure none of them fall out unless you want me to stuff more of them inside” he whimpers at your words before giving a weak yes ma’am. “On your knees” you order he slowly rises to his knees as tears stream down his face. Grabbing hold of his cock he watched with blurred eyes as you press a thin paintbrush into his cock. A faint gasp leaves his lips as his back arches. 

           More of his precum leaks out as you continue to push the paintbrush deeper. His eyes widen as loud moans leave his lips. His breath becomes heavier as he feels a strange sensation. His body trembles the need to cum is overwhelming. “T-take it out…I wanna cum please take it out” You scoff at his words as you squeeze his cock tightly. “Are you telling me what to do?” you squeeze tighter as you speak. “Wasting my time with petty actions and now you think you can boss me around, oh Rafayel you haven’t learned a single thing” you taunt as you begin to stroke his cock.

           His hips buck begging for more pleasure but it was almost painful. The need to cum was overwhelming. “Oh fuck fuck” he whines as he feels you toy with the thin paintbrush while stroking his cock. “If you're a good boy you won’t come until I say so” he whines in response as he bites his lips. A loud cry spills from his lips as you nearly pull out the paintbrush. His cock shudders as more precum leaks out. Minutes passed as you continued to edge him, he was becoming overstimulated as the time passed. 

           A sharp gasp left his lips as he felt you twirl the thin paintbrush around in his cock. Choked moans struggle to escape as he bucks his hips begging for more. Drool seeps down his face as his eyes roll back. “Thats not good this is meant to be a punishment, Rafe, but here you are whining like a dog in heat fucking pathetic” he whines at your words but he continues to chase the pleasure. “W-wanna cum” he lets out in a desperate attempt to seek more pleasure. “Please I-I can’t an-anymore” he whines as more tears stream down his face. 

           You giggle at the sight of Rafayel red in the face, eyes filled to the brim with tears and drool leaving his lips. “Aww does my little pup feel good” You taunt as he struggles to let out a proper sentence, broken moans leave his lips his blurred eyes focusing on the way you pushed the thin paintbrush into his cock. “Only good boys get to cum, if you beg properly maybe I’ll let you cum” You wondered if he heard you properly he clearly was overwhelmed by the pleasure. His mind was dazed from the pleasure but the pain of not being able to cum was torture. Whimpers left his lips as he bucked his hips upwards begging for more. “Pl-please I wa-wanna cum ma’am pl-please” he struggled to let out as another loud moan left his lips. 

           His breath was heavy as he felt you push another paintbrush into his ass. He was full to the brim but he couldn’t help how much he wanted more. The pleasure from both ends was overwhelming for his mind. Tears streamed down his face as he continued to beg. “Fuck please I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum” He repeated the phrase over and over again his desperation leaking through it only excited you further. “Aww does my little pup wanna cum, but only good boys get to cum and you haven’t been a good boy” Your taunting words were followed by a deep chuckle at the way Rafayel sobbed. 

           His desperation was enticing he was a blubbering wet mess begging to be used. “I-I’ll be a good pup I swear pl-please wa-wanna cum” he begged through rigged breaths as his eyes followed your movement. You stood up before removing your panties and tossing them aside. “If you wanna cum so bad then I’ll give you three minutes to make your master cum” he hardly let you finish as he latched his mouth to your dripping pussy. You bite your lips feeling him sucking on your clit in a desperate attempt to make you cum faster. Grabbing onto his head you pushed his head deeper into your cunt loving how his tongue fucked you. “Good boy, making your master so proud” you mewled as your breath quickened. 

           Soft moans left your lips as you road his tongue, licking your dry lips you can’t deny you were close. Rafayel knew every spot that could bring you close to the edge. “Oh fuck” you whine as your fingers reach down towards your clit rubbing it as you threw your head back. Loud moans began to leave your lips, “Fuck Rafa-Rafayel, oh fuck yes right there baby” you whined feeling your climax approaching. A loud cry leaves your lips as your climax crashes down like waves. You whine as Rafayel drinks it all. You pull away staring down at his cum covered face. Catching your breath you lean down gently toying with the thin paintbrush. You slowly pull it out before pushing Rafayel down onto his back. 

           You straddle him as you aligned his cock with your cunt. “I’m not one to go back on my word and you’ve been a good boy so you desire a little reward” he whines in response as he watches his cock despires inside your warm walls. Soft pants leave his lips as you bounce on his cock, “Wanna cum inside your master?” he nods his head desperately at your question. “Go ahead cum inside be a good pup and breed your master” he arches his hips to meet your movement before you know it his hot cum is spilling deep inside you. 

           He cries out loudly as he cums, and you continue to ride him. You come to a steady pace before stopping completely. You slowly rise as his cock slips out your cunt, “You’re not done, shouldn’t you clean your master and thank me” You stare down at the tired men as you utter those words. He slowly rises as he opens his mouth, you watch as he licks his cum from your cunt. “T-thank you ma’am” he whimpers clearly out of breath. Before you can speak you hear the sound of your phone ringing. 

“Hey is everything settled?” Thomas's voice fills the room as you turn to stare at Rafaeyl. “Hmm yes, he’ll be there shortly don’t worry I already dealt with his little outburst” you replied as Thomas thanked you over and over. “It’s no problem always happy to help,” you said in a cheery tone.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

not used to this so be kind first love and deepspace fic and second fic overall hope ya enjoy :3

[leveloneandup]

For Christen Press, the Joy is in the Journey

Progress isn’t perfect.

That’s been Christen Press’s motto over the 781 days since she last played in a soccer match—and not just when it comes to her recovery from the ACL tear she sustained in June, 2022, but also when thinking about life as a whole.

“You have to accept that things won’t go the way you think they will, but maybe they’ll go better,” she explains. “Progress isn’t linear. It’s up and down and back and forth. But in that movement there’s more than what you ever imagined. So the imperfection—the struggle, the setbacks—those are actually the greatest gifts as you get to learn about yourself and you have the chance to grow.”

Press has had more than her share of setbacks over the last two years, as an initial surgery turned into two, then three, and finally four.

“I think every single time that I was told I’d have to have surgery, from the first ACL reconstruction and the three scopes that I had, I always thought I would be on the quickest timeline possible,” said Press when she returned to Angel City training in June. “I think that's part of who I am. I'm just relentlessly optimistic. I'm naively positive, and just thinking that everything's going to work out for me—and I never want that to change, you know? And I got off course of all of those timelines so many times that I finally had to actually relinquish that expectation of myself.”

In her two years off the field, Press says she’s grown and healed in more ways than just physically, but the goal was always to return, even if that possibility felt far off at times.

“I never thought about giving up,” says Press, “but there were moments that I thought I’d have to accept that I wouldn’t make it—or that ‘making it’ might not look how I expected.”

One of the hardest things about this process has been accepting that the outcome was not fully under her control. “I’m able to do a lot of suffering for success, and I’ve been that way since I was a child,” she says. “The question I had to answer was how to accept and be open to things I cannot control.”

Press had access to the best medical and rehabilitation care in the business—first at the Meyer Institute of Sports, an El Segundo rehab and performance facility specializing in elite athletes, and then with Angel City’s training staff, including VP of Medical and Performance Sarah Smith, Head Athletic Trainer Manny De Alba, Head of Sports Science Dan Jones, Director of Rehabilitation Sarah Neal, Performance Coach Michael Roman, Assistant Athletic Trainer April Seymon, and Senior Physical Therapist Joscelyn Shumate Bourne.

Ultimately, bodies don’t always heal the way we hope they will. All she could do was show up every day and try her best.

“I had to make decisions that centered my well being and full personhood,” she says. “To start to find my inherent value outside of excellence in the pitch.”

In part, that meant finding joy in other areas of life. She worked on her business, re–Inc, including starting a podcast with (business and life) partner Tobin Heath, initially focusing on the 2023 World Cup, then branching out to cover women’s soccer more generally. She went to the beach. She spent time with family.

In some ways, this time away from the game Press loves has been freeing. “The last two years have been the first of my career that I wasn’t evaluated on my performance,” she says. “I showed up for PT every day with a smile on my face and gave max effort. That’s all I had to do.”

Press’s return comes at a perfect time for the club: they’ve begun to build momentum with two convincing Summer Cup wins, against Club América and Bay FC, as they look ahead to the back half of the regular season. Playoffs are still well within reach heading into this stretch, a fact that Press’s return can only make more tangible.

“Her quality is inevitable,” says First Assistant Coach Eleri Earnshaw. “Last week in training, she scored a couple of goals that we haven't seen anyone else do yet this season in training.”

Returning to play after such a long hiatus isn’t easy for anyone, but Earnshaw says there’s a point the coaching staff have emphasized both to Press and to other injured players eyeing a return to the field: “your ability doesn't change overnight,” she says. “There are some things that just stay with you. Her chance creation, her separation from defenders—you’ve got to be in the right physical and mental place to be able to perform those things, to be confident to do it, but she is building those things up every day.”

“If we can get that quality onto the pitch for any number of minutes, great,” she concludes.

As Press anticipates her return to what she calls “the real world of professional sports”—one “filled with stress and pressure and often angst,” as she puts it—she’s going in with a fresh perspective.

“I’m determined to enjoy it,” she says. “I know who I am as a player and person, and I see this opportunity as a chance to do what I love. I told my teammates today: football is a miracle. It’s a miracle we get to do the thing we love.”

[moonpascal]

Not Again

summary: spiderman ends up on your fire escape…again

warnings: mentions of blood, 18+ reader and peter parker, language, possibly ooc, lots of dialogue, idk what else

any peter parker x f!reader l wc: 780 (thought it was longer)

a/n: rewrote this at least 20 times and this version i’m at least ok with more than the others. considering it’s been in my drafts forever. still new at writing and suck ass at being descriptive as i want to be. hopefully it’s enjoyable, if so leave a like, comment or reblog <3

“I really am sorry for showing up two nights in a row” Spiderman sighed.  

“Ya sure I bet you are, especially after I told you I don’t have a first aid kit or know jack shit about what I'm doing,” you grumbled. It was too late or too early—who the hell knows. All you knew was that you had work in the morning, and poorly assessing the Spiderman was not on your to-do list. 

Lightly dabbing the washcloth against the exposed areas of the suit, careful not to apply too much pressure, but no matter how delicate you were it didn't take the pain away. 

How he managed to land on your fire escape yesterday and to purposely come again tonight was beyond you. Why couldn’t he land somewhere who was a nurse or owned a damn first aid kit! Even though tonight’s assets are not as roughed up as yesterdays. From what you could see, it seems like he healed a bit.

“Just a tip, but you should learn to dodge when someone is coming at you,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. Being up this early made you delirious when it’s this late at night; anything and everything is funny when it’s two in the morning. He must think you’re pretty funny when he huffs and his shoulders shake a bit before groaning at the movement.

“I got a tip for you and it’s pink.” Heat instantly rushes to your face, the shock evident when you pause. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “That mask confidence really gettin to you, or did you get hit in the head too many times today?”

“Bit of both, I watched this streamer guy and he said it. I’ve been itching to say it.” If he had the mask off you might think he’s smirking at you. But all you get to see is the white lens’s from the suit adjusting looking at you. 

“I’m not surprised, you seem like someone who watches streamers.” He scoffs as you start wringing out the last of the blood from what was a white cloth. There's no point in keeping it now. Sliding out of the dining chair, grabbing the bowl and littered trash accumulated around you guys.

“I do appreciate your help and that I landed on your fire escape.” 

“My sleep says otherwise. How did you end up on mine of all places in the first place?” It’s been running marathons in your head since yesterday's incident. The apartment balcony looked like everyone else’s -plain- and in between levels, not even the top floor. 

“Web snapped, ran out of web fluid last minute,” he shrugged, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Web fluid? Like it comes out of him- eww gross—not even gonna think about it. 

Glancing at the stove, the green glow of the clock saying it was indeed time to go back to bed. Having to be up in a few hours for a stupid meeting, that you didn’t have to be there for only to be the office bitch- which isn’t even your job- but it paid wellish. At least enough to afford this place.  

“I’m glad I could be of assistance spidey, you're welcome to my couch, but I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

He shifts in the chair before slowly standing up gripping his side. He starts limping towards the window, and groans as he opens the stubborn thing. “See you tomorrow night, my guardian angel.”

“No sir, I won’t be here tomorrow night,”you laughed. Turning all the lights off till you got close to him. You could feel his shock just staring at you even if the mask hid his expression. It’s almost too easy to read him like this. 

“And why not?” He questioned with a hint of too much sass. Popping his hip out and placing his hand there. 

“I’m started to suspect you’re getting hurt on purpose to see me,” you copy his pose with just enough dramatics. “Anyways I have a date,” you shrugged. First one in a while at that and a girl has needs that’ll hopefully be fulfilled, but it’s best not to get your hopes up too high. 

“A date? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Yeah if it ends well,” you smirk. He drops his pose before not so gracefully trying to get out the window. 

“Oh yeah makes sense, right well enjoy your date,” he stutters before slamming the window shut, enough to shake the pictures you have hanging on the wall. 

You sigh, latching the lock and trudging back to the comfort of your bed. 

[applesontheground]

tip the scale 💉

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY EIGHTEEN - COCKRING

sorry, couldn't do it. can't write dan without writing herb too.

didn't know what i wanted to do with this day (or rather, who to do it with) until the last second, and maybe it's just because i'm trying to think about your own prometheus again (in case you're wondering what my next project is gonna be after kinktober's finished up...), so i decided to choose him so soon after his malewife.

either way, i think it worked out rather well.

NSFW | Word Count: 1,207 | Herbert West x GN Reader contains toy use, edging, lots of grabbing, lab partners with benefits

“I’m asking one thing from you. I dug up bones for you, I learned how to fill syringes while getting stabbed in my ineptitude all the way down, I dragged a deer left on the side of the road home for you, I-“

“[Y/N], you’re being unhinged right now. I know what you’ve done for me,” Herbert put his hands on your shoulders, and though you were quiet now you lowered your voice, the rant turning into a plea. “You owe me one, that's all.”

He replied quickly with an awful expression forming on his face, “It would be easier if your ideas weren’t so…crude.”

You huffed at him, and he then asked, “Can’t I just promise-“

“You’ve promised for two weeks straight, and that’s not how these arrangements should work. Promising sex for assistance in your-“ You kept yourself from calling it a hobby with a pause in speech, “Your passion. I try to understand, I really do.” You pushed his hands off you, “You’re busy, you’re a doctor, you’re a scientist, “ You shrugged, palms exposed to him. “but I have needs, too. You’ve told me you’ve felt pent up, and I’ve been asleep when you’ve needed me, and all I got to say to you is why not do something about it?”

His expression was stoic, but it flinched as he turned away from you. “Because I have work to do.” He began walking down the stairs to the basement and quickly bit back, yet you followed with another question, “And you said you needed help, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then, help me too.” You stood at the base of the stairs, finally pulling the thing in question that started this compromise attempt off. The cockring sat in your hand as you held it out to him, “I’m not even asking you to touch me, Herbert. Just wear it while we work, see what it does.”

“Must a… cockring come between me and what I need to do?” He asked, and you pointed out, “Well, I did for a moment and look at how well it’s worked out for the both of us.” You let a vengeful smile prick on your lips with a shake of your head, “Against your own better judgement, too.”

“Hardly.” He lied, and you put the ring in his hand. “Prove it.” Looking down at it, then at you again, he quickly grumbled, “You [pervert/harlot], not a chance."

You turned away, “Fine. I had some other places to be-“

“[Y/N].” His voice was exasperated as he grabbed your sleeve before you even made it up a few steps. You looked back at him with a level gaze into his eyes, almost pleading but held steadfast with a hard brow and a pout on his lips.

“I told you my rules.” You muttered, but stepped back down a stair, looking at his balled up fist with the ring hidden now. “Think about it, and I’ll be back down in ten. We’ll see how long I want to help you.”

Your hand crawled over to where he was still holding you, prying his fingers off your shirt sleeve gently and holding his hand for a beat before letting go, and continuing up the stairs.

At first, putting your foot down felt idiotic, almost childish. You reminded yourself as you undressed from your day job, finding a pair of tighter pants and a more breathable shirt, that you did it for the outside motives that came with the lab work with him. His meticulous hands focused on something outside of the research and note taking, his mouth doing the things that weren’t bitching and making corny jokes about medical references that only he found hilarious.

He liked you because you were palpable, but this was something that came more and more to light and formed in your list of requirements as you knew him. You had to have his energy in other ways while being his dirty work partner.

Walking back down, you called out, “I can prep that stomach that you wanted to use the re-agent on, get it ready for the tests like usual.”

Silence, you let it sit idly in the air of the basement as you walked in, seeing him with his back to you. He was rigid, not speaking and just looking down at a plethora of notes he had been thumbing through. You let it go, doing what you said you were going to do without another comment. Stretching nitrile gloves on, you walked over to the small fridge repurposed to hold the various body parts and organs the two of you had scrounged up for the various tests and interests of Herbert – but when you pulled the stomach out and turned, he was looking at you.

“You didn’t tell me it vibrated.” He spoke in a fragile voice, and you smiled at that. “Because I…” You hesitated, but then were honest as you turned to him, approaching with the organ, “Because I thought you wouldn’t humor me.”

“Oh, and you were st-still going to come down here just to make sure of that?” He then asked, his jaw flexing as he spoke, throat sounding dry as he began looking away from you. You nodded, merely watching him stand almost averting your posture, the simple brush of your body on him enough to make him fold.

A laugh was sitting in your throat as you then asked, “So, I can settle down and do what you need me to do. I had to have some bluff to see-“

His hand sat on his belt, and you then reeled back, “But I need you to keep that on. That’s the deal, Herbert.” You turned to set the stomach down, and asked, “How many CC’s need to be prepped for this? And what’s it going to do when we apply it?”

He stepped awkwardly over, and you ignored the erection pitched under his slacks with your eyes on his. “It’s…It’s going to have the expected reaction, and…” He could barely speak, and it was driving him mad as he glared at you, “I don’t think it’d be safe for me to be in such a compromised state while we perform, [Y/N].”

You looked down at the table, and shrugged, “You’re usually more optimistic about our abilities, so I say we go for-“

He lashed out, taking you by your shirt again as you two were nearly nose to nose. You braced, a hand on his shoulder now and relishing the way he shook to the touch. “Do you think…” He sucked in another breath, a moan passing through his voice as he tried to sound furious, “This display is funny, [Y/N]?”

You swallowed, keening to the way he held the collar of your shirt as you admitted, “No, I just find it very attractive if nothing else.”

“You’re hopeless.” He spoke as he forced his body against yours, kissing and letting a knee ride up against your own crotch. The vibration from the cockring passed over to you, making you moan into his mouth.

You knew that was true for the both of you, but at least you were getting his attention tonight instead of that stupid fucking stomach.

[specialagentlokitty]

Shaun Murphy x reader - the jobs we love

Hi. I saw that you have The Good Doctor in your writing list. If you still write for it I was wondering if you would write a Shaun fic? If it could include this prompt 7. “You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.” from your prompt list. Also if it could be the Reader that says the prompt. Thank you and love all your work!❤️ - Anon💜

Slowly moving around your hospital room, you followed a strict step by step routine, being mindful of the furniture in there.

Each step hurt, but you had to keep practicing your routine.

“I would have to advise against moving around, you will hurt yourself more.”

You smiled a little bit, turning to the doorway, hands clasped behind your back as you smiled from ear to ear at the doctor who was waiting.

“I have to practice my routine Doctor Murphy, otherwise I’ll forget it.”

“Do you use the same routine every time?” He asked.

He padded in, holding your file to his chest, and he stood in front of you, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet slightly.

“I need you to sit down.”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You watched as Shaun walked over, standing in front of you as he began to do some basic checks on you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“My leg hurts a lot, but other than that I’m okay.”

“Yes, you have broken your leg in two places. It is why we told you not to move around.”

You hummed a little bit and nodded.

“Why do you carry on walking around if it hurts you?”

You moved back on to the bed, putting your leg up and Shaun before checking it over, and you let him.

Sometimes you would move in discomfort, but you didn’t do anything to stop him from doing his job.

“Well, it’s my job. I have deadlines to meet, and the season starts up again soon, so I need to be ready to practice.”

“I would advise against practicing until your breaks are fully healed, you may break your leg again.”

“I’ve broken many bones.” You smiled.

“What is your job?”

“Professional figure skater.”

Shaun nodded his head, pacing back and forth as he went through your file.

“Why do you still do it if you get hurt?”

You rested your head back on one of your arms, looking as he took a marker out of his pocket, and began to draw on your leg.

“Well, it’s something I love doing. Would you stop being a surgeon if you got hurt?”

“Yes, it is not logical to stay at a work place where you get hurt.”

“Soldiers get hurt, police officers get hurt, firemen get hurt, sometimes doctors and nurses get hurt too Shaun. If everybody stopped doing their jobs because they’re scared of being hurt then we’d have nobody to help us.”

Shaun furrowed his brows a little in confusion.

“I.. I don’t understand.”

“Are to scared that you’ll get hurt when you get a really bad patient?”

“Yes, sometimes I am.”

“But you’re still here, right?”

Shaun nodded his head.

“You know why you’re still here?”

“Because I like my job. I am a surgeon. I am a good surgeon.”

You laughed softly, nodding your head.

“Yeah, you’re a good surgeon. Exactly. You love your job, that’s why you’re still here.”

“You love your job.”

“Yeah, I do. That’s why you see me every time I break a bone Shaun.”

He nodded a little.

“You break a lot of bones (Y/N). You should be more careful.”

This made you laugh, and you grinned a little at him.

“Maybe I should, but sometimes we’ve got to take the risk.”

“I cannot take risks, that is dangerous.”

Shaun clasped his hands in front of him, unclasping and clasping them back together as he looked around the room.

“You need surgery to fix one of the breaks in your leg, Doctor Melendez has you scheduled for this evening.”

You hummed a bit.

“Are you gonna be in there too?”

“Yes, I am assisting.”

“Good, i trust you Shaun. I know you’ll do right by me and my leg, you make whatever choice you have to.”

“What if it means you cannot ice skate anymore?”

You smiled softly.

“I trust you.”

“Why? Many people do not like me taking part in the surgery. They do not like having an autistic doctor.”

“You want to know a secret Shaun?” You whispered.

He quickly nodded, shuffling closer so he could hear what you were going to say to him.

“You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.” You whispered.

Shaun smiled a little bit, and he leant back, looking at you briefly before he turned away.

“Nobody has ever told me that before.”

“Well it’s true, you, Shaun Murphy, are extraordinary. You are amazing, you are smart, and you are going to be the best surgeon in the country one day.”

“How do you know?”

You turned your attention to the ceiling.

“Because you’re the best at what you do. I trust you. I’m glad you’re going to be the one to fix my leg.”

Shaun smiled a little more and he quietly left the room, still smiling to himself.

He had met a few times, sometimes you would go to the hospital with small fractures or head injuries from falling.

Every time you would remind him how he’s going to be a great surgeon, and he would ask you questions about figure skating.

It was a friendship he had never had before, you never doubted him for a second, you listened to him and let him talk about everything that was bothering him.

Shaun liked seeing you, but he didn’t like seeing you in the hospital, but he knew you were going to be okay, because he knew exactly how to fix your break so you could go back to doing exactly what you loved

[zyxoxox]

Pools when I went to request something and I saw your blog aesthetic I just wanted to smooch all over it because it was so cute like OMGG

However I HAVE A REQUEST :3 I WAS WONDERRINGG if you could do Caesar king, Burnice white and WISEE x Fem! Ace detective reader? (BUT OFC if you don’t wanna do fem then NEUTRAL IS ALSO SUCH A GREAT CHOICE‼️)

Anyway if you do this request then THANK YOU SOO MUCH SCHOOKUMS AND HAVE AN AWESOME DAY⁉️

intuition said so!

wise x fem! ace detective!reader || 400 wc

note: wowieeee my first request hihihiii!! i’m glad my blog gives off the vibes, i wanted it to be cozy and the coziest thing for me is boba so 😌 i accept all the smooches!!!

ok sadly i’m not far enough into the game to know the first two, in fact i’ve never even heard of them before this, so im doing just wise sorryy 😭 i just his inter knot lvl 30 and met zhu yuan so. i’ve got a while to go

anywho i hope u like it! have a lovely day too!! <3

“i’m looking for the infamous phaethon. something tells me they’re on sixth street.”

funnily enough, the circumstances of your meeting was a client asking you to track phaethon down. you were in a tough spot when this mysterious hacker found you, and requested a favour- though it was more akin to threatening.

you had no choice but to go along, and though tracking their location was a bit of a challenge, you found a way into their system.

most of your pleasant clients had been proxies themselves, so you were no stranger to phaethon’s name. a part of you felt bad for exposing them like this, but work was work.

until- the hacker who commissioned you got arrested? under the name of.. phaethon?! there was clearly a lot more about this proxy than you’d been let in on, and your curiosity was officially peaked.

“wise and belle… the managers of random play video store. or i should say, phaethon?”

needless to say, the siblings were very wary of your intentions at first. you’d tracked them down… for solely your amusement? considering the nature of their work, it was a bit hard to believe.

but the more they saw your presence, they realised it really was just that- you would go on any tangent that made you curious, because you couldn’t stand being clueless.

and as an ace detective, there weren’t many questions you couldn’t eventually find the answer to.

you’d told wise and belle your connection to the loss of their account early on, and they while initially they treated you like a contact they could call upon, eventually it grew into something more. especially for wise.

“forgive me, master, but i do not understand the purpose of third assistant being here. i have accepted second assistant’s presence due to the emotional ties you have to her, but this other one’s abilities are in nowhere comparable to mine. i can analyse data with 99.99% more efficiency than-”

yeah, fairy did not like you.

and the feeling was mutual. it all started when you began helping wise with his smaller, less confidential commissions. your intuition was super useful in taking in the surroundings, and gathering bit of info and treasure he may have missed otherwise.

well, that was one reason. the other, arguably more important one, was that it was the perfect nonchalant way to keep each other company.

could fairy calculate all the things you said? probably. but it was different from you; much nicer.

the way you’d lean over his chair when he was connected to eous, the way your face scrunched up when you were analysing clues, the way you scratched your nose when your inferences didn’t align, they way you’d snap and jump when they did- wise had all your habits down.

at this point, the reason he didn’t let you in on bigger missions wasn’t because of a lack of trust, more so he knew he’d get distracted.

“wise, please don’t take this the wrong way, but your sentient ai is… unique. what about- what if-maybe we could go somewhere else? maybe coff cafe?”

and so, much to belle’s delight and fairy’s displeasure, the two of you went on a date! (neither of you called it one at the time, but belle was sure she could fix that)

you were very receptive of his likes and dislikes, even when he never had to say them. and you never forgot a word he said.

“here’s your favourite noodles! what? no, silly, you didn’t need to tell me, i figured it out! there was a stain on your shirt that could’ve only been left by chili sauce, and you mentioned you liked noodles crispy, so it was easy enough to shortlist.”

“want to go watch the next ancient aliens documentary together? how’d i know? you keep posting sky pics on the inter-knot and i know you watch weird stuff so-“

wise had a cupboard dedicated to your favourite snacks. if you got down to work, and you didn’t have the, on hand… let’s say he learnt the consequences of that the hard way.

he always had an energy bar on hand, and would hand one over before even you realised you needed one.

being perceptive to all the little details left you quite flustered at mundane stuff, and he was more than happy to go along with it.

an ace detective who couldn’t sit still, and an ace proxy who was calm always- what a sight for sixth street!

[deep-dive]

“A lot of FromSoftware games throw players into this barren wasteland, and it’s a very severe, harsh, cold experience … I don’t think what we’ve been doing in our games has changed, but perhaps the world has come closer to that type of feeling,” agrees Miyazaki. “These past few years have been a huge exception to the rule in terms of what’s happening around us. But even before that, I have always felt that the world was quite a harsh place. I’ve always lived my life with that worldview, those values. So this idea of being thrust into a wasteland and planting the seeds of growth is something that, for me, feels almost universal. Perhaps more people are discovering that right now.” I think that’s something a lot of people miss about FromSoftware games: the sense of hope. In my first interview with Miyazaki, over email back in 2010, he told me about the origin of Demon’s Souls’ unusual multiplayer, wherein players can summon anonymous helpers to help them through a particularly horrible area or boss encounter. He was in his car in winter, trying to get up a hill, and everyone got stuck; only when they started working together, with everybody behind pushing the car in front to the top of the hill, did anyone make it up. He called it “a connection of mutual assistance between transient people”, and added: “Oddly, that incident will probably linger in my heart for a long time. Simply because it’s fleeting, it stays with you a lot longer.” Elden Ring, too, is full of moments of fleeting beauty and camaraderie like this – and it’s because they are rare that they feel meaningful. In a harsh world, moments of respite are to be treasured. “I am sure that there is some experience, if you look deep enough into my history, that has informed my identity, the worldview that drives me to make the games that I do,” says Miyazaki. “I’ve never taken a step back and looked at what may have been the trigger, but I’m sure there is some reason why these are the types of games that I want to see and make. If I were to look in the mirror and reflect on myself … if I go on this soul-searching journey to find out why, I might be disappointed in myself. It would force me to come face to face with how boring and average a person I am. Perhaps I intentionally avoid doing that. It keeps the creative spring flowing.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Your first day of work has you over eager. You show up ahead ten minutes early. You’re supposed to get there an hour before opening. You linger outside, pacing aimlessly as you rub your arm, feeling a bit silly for having to wait in the morning shadows. 

There’s a sudden clattering, the noise of metal clinking together, and you turn to greet the behemoth approaching you. Thor’s silhouette is darkened in the dim hues of the hour, the purple sky behind him limning his broad shoulders. He chuckles as he approaches and raises his armful of pans. 

“Early bird,” he chirps at you, “I remembered the new pans!” 

“New pans?” You wonder. 

“Ah, yes, I ordered them ages ago. Carelessly, I left the wrong address in my autofill,” he clucks at himself, “great luck that you’re ahead of schedule, I do require some assistance.” 

“Oh, happily,” you teeter on your heels. 

“Yes, uh, the keys,” he wiggles his left hand and you spot the keyring dangling around his knuckle, “if you could open the door. I’d have you take all this but it is rather heavy.” 

“Of course,” you reach for keys and he straightens his finger. You slip the ring free and stare at the dozen or so keys.  

He laughs again, “it is the one marked F; ‘Front Door’.” 

“Ah, makes sense,” you say. 

“Mm, you would think but I also have a front door at home...” he adds. 

Your lips tweak in a half-smile as you turn to unlock the bakery door. You pull it open and hold it for him. He thanks you with a dip of his head and angles through with his armful of pans. He enters and you follow him into the darkness. 

“You may lock it behind you... and find the light switch—ah, damn--” 

The pans crash to the floor as you pull the door shut. You twist the latch and feel along the wall for the switch. Your heart is racing with the cacophony of noise. As you find the lights and face the bakery, you find Thor on his knee, panting as he has a hand on an overturned chair and the other on his hip. 

“Argh, I don’t know how many times I’ve told Thrud to put the chairs up,” he growls, “why would she put it here?” He asks the rhetorical question as he rubs his lower back, “she cannot help being her father’s daughter I suppose.” 

He rights the chair first then uses it to haul himself to one foot, then the other. You bend to pick up the golden pan close to you. He bends to do the same and squeaks. Coming from him the noise is both comical and concerning. 

He manages to move himself into the chair and hisses, “ah, forgive me,” he pushes his head back, “I’ve pulled my old college injury.” 

“Just take a minute, it’s okay,” you assure him as you gather up the pans around the entry. You put them on the table near him as he watches with a pained expression. “I think they’re mostly undamaged.” You examine the pan in your hand then look up, “more importantly, you? You sure it’s just an old injury?” 

“Ah, don’t you worry for me. I’m the boss here,” he grits and groans as he makes himself stand. “You’ve got training to do and I’ve got to train you.” 

He moves stiffly and you look down at the pan and hold it up, tilting it to run your finger along the dent. 

“Oh no,” you murmur. 

“Hmmph,” he grunts and moves closer, stooping with sharp inhale to look at the imperfection, “ah, no worries, I can fix that.” He rubs his fingers together, “before I was a baker, I did some work at a metal shop. I’m afraid however they did not approve of me forgetting my mask so often.” 

You frown, you hope he at least has the sense to wear oven mitts. 

“Young and stupid,” he explains, “I like to think I am wiser now. Who knows if it’s true.” 

He favours one hip as he takes a stack of three pans, “let’s get these to the kitchen, then we can begin opening—tasks.” 

You follow him around the counter into the kitchen. He sets down his handful, then you put yours next to him. As he faces you, you put your hands up. 

“Please, I can get the rest,” you insist. 

“I can handle it--” 

“Just relax,” you say, “I can see you’re in pain. I know pain well. Give yourself a minute, okay? I can handle a few pans.” 

He opens his mouth to argue then snaps it shut. He shows his large palms and backs up to lean on the metal table at the center of the kitchen. He winces as he does and you shake your head. You leave him and go to gather up the last of the new tins. 

When you return, he is bracing the metal and stretching his left leg. His back tenses as he does and he groans. He lifts his knee and drops his foot back down heavily. 

“Take it easy,” you say as you place the last of the pans down, “tell me what to do, I can figure it out.” 

“Mm, yes, the rest of the lights... then the safe...” he turns to you, “ah, the key for the safe is marked S...” 

“For ‘safe’,” you figure as you look back to the keyring in your hand. “Got it.” 

“Then we must start the prep. I have loaves proofing in the drawers. They need to go in as soon as possible for opening,” he explains, his voice gritty with agony. 

You nod, “alright, can do.” 

“Too helpful,” he says, “my apologies that you are tending more than the icing.” 

“I’m here to work. Doesn’t matter what,” you assure him. 

You go out and flick on the lights, all but the open sign. Then you dip back into the kitchen to ask about the safe. That’s hidden in what looks like a cupboard across from the ovens. You open it up and he directs you to grab the tray on top. You remember how to balance from your barista days. 

“Earlier,” he says as you count and he inputs the totals into the tablet before him, “when you said you know pain... I recall you mentioned you are a carer for your sister?” 

You nod and swallow, “yeah, but like I said, she’s come a long way. She has bad days but we all do.” 

“Mm, yes, I’m very sorry to hear it. It can’t be easy having to take care of someone so young. Not to mention having to leave her to do just that,” he tisks, “it isn’t fair that you should need to. You let me know if you need anything. I can go without a decorator now and again.” 

“I think she’ll be okay,” you shrug, “really, she’s probably tired of me.” 

“Oh, I don’t think anyone could ever tire of you,” he purrs, “anyone would be lucky to have a woman like you taking care of them.” 

“Maybe,” you utter before you announce the next total and he keys it in, “I wish I could do more for her. Oh, uh, yeah,” you look up at him, “she wanted me to tell you she loved the cookies.” 

He grins and bows his head, “wonderful. And you? How’d you like them?” 

“Delicious,” you proclaim, “I’m lucky I got even a crumb from her though. She devoured them.” 

“Take more tonight. We always have extra,” he says. 

“No, I couldn’t,” you shake your head. 

“You will. It is one of the perks of working here,” he intones as he touches his hip again, “if I can offer her any comfort, even just a batch of cookies, it’ll be worth it.” 

“That’s so sweet of you,” you finish counting and lift the tray. 

“Compensation since you’ll be doing the heavy lifting,” he chortles as he flinches and pulls his hand away from his back, “I should know better by now. I always overdo it.” He glances down at his middle, “I’m certain you could have guessed by looking.” 

[germhammy]

“Relaxing in the room”

Wednesday sat in the black beanbag Enid got to match hers. She was reading email on her laptop

Enid: so you like the beanbag?

Wednesday: it is not as uncomfortable as I would have thought it to be.

Enid: so is that good or bad?

Wednesday: a good thing. Thank you, Enid

Enid: I never thought I would see the day. Wednesday Addams reading emails on a computer. Embracing the use of a phone was shocking enough

Wednesday: it serves its purpose. I still prefer to use a pen and paper or typewriter. But it does make correspondence quicker and at times convenient.

Enid: that’s fair. You got a Mac

Wednesday: Pugsley uses one. He actually uses a pc for games. He has both. He can help me with either. I remembered you had an Apple. So I thought you would be of help as well

Enid: oh! Yes. Just ask and I can totally help you. So what’s new on the Wednesday Addams email front?

Wednesday: final approvals on cover art for my novel. The arc books have started shipping. oh. I heard from Kent while you and the others were in Hawte Kewture. I did not realize I did not give him Pugsley’s number so they can discuss plans

Enid: Kent is helping us this time around, right? I mean actually really helping?

Wednesday: yes. I told him that I will devise a special kind of torture for him if he does not. That and Thing enjoyed punching him in the eye. I also told him we would take him shopping and for food when it is over with

Enid: are you all right, Wednesday? I know you must be a bit stressed with the Poe Cup, the fencing tourney, your parents and grandmothers here and the production. Not to mention our school work

Wednesday: for once I am grateful my mother is here close by. Mr Burton has been asking her a lot of things that he would be asking me. I gave Jess Pugsley‘a number to talk to him and Thing about the Black Cat surprises.

Enid: wait. How is Thing in Westfield?

Wednesday: I shipped him. I made sure he was comfortable. We do it quite often

Enid: aww.

The Exorcist theme played. Wednesday grabbed her phone

Wednesday: hello, Mother.

Enid: put the phone on speaker?

Wednesday put her phone on speaker

Morticia: hello, Wednesday. Hello, Enid. I’m calling to inform you that your father and I were meeting with Tom and the executive producers and Mr Waipapa

Wednesday: and?

Morticia: well, the changes Mr Johnson and Mr Waipapa initiate the budget so much that Netflix is threatening to cancel

Enid: oh no!

Morticia: Tom said he would fire Mr Waipapa and take over director duties. Mr Johnson said if Mr Waipapa goes he pulls his financial support. Without his contribution it cannot go forward. Tom said he can put in more. But not all

Wednesday: so it’s canceled?

Morticia: your father and I are very proud of you, Wednesday. As is my brother. You have always been his favorite. We are putting in some money. Tom says you are being elevated from writer of original story to assistant producer.

Wednesday: assistant producer?

Morticia: do not worry. Tom said to me all that means is you officially out rank Ms Rowling who is also an executive producer

Enid: -chuckling- I’ve always liked Tom Burton for actually caring

Morticia: we are meeting for dinner tomorrow in Pilgrim World to discuss details. You should be present, Wednesday. Enid you may tag along too of course.

[rosellacwrites]

I wanna be someone who believes

summary: Dieter knows it when he sees it.

pairings: Dieter Bravo x Reader

rating: teen maybe? I never know what to call this shit if it isn’t smutty 🤣

warnings: reader is a real estate agent and uses she/her pronouns but is otherwise undescribed; gratuitous use of double negatives; Dieter being Dieter

word count: 1650 (oops)

author’s note: posting late but written for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble Challenge — the prompt was a meet-cute with “Do you believe in aliens?” Please be kind, I’ve never written for any of the Pedro boys before 🫣

Happy reading! ❤️

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Please,” she coaxes you over the phone. “I’ll owe you big time.”

This is not the first time you’ve heard this from her, and you sigh. “What?”

“I need you to cover a big buyer for me this weekend. Dave got some kind of crazy deal through work, and he wants to take me to Cabo for the weekend, and my in-laws actually agreed to take the kids for once, but this is the only weekend he’s gonna be in LA between projects and I swear to God I’ll make it up to you, I’ll take your biggest pain in the ass buyer off your hands — “

“Danielle.” You take a sip of your coffee and rub the spot between your eyebrows. “Who is it?”

She takes a deep breath on the other end. “Okay — hear me out — he’s not quite as wild and crazy as you hear, more like… sexy eccentric? And the budget is good, all cash, I’ll send you his proof of funds — “

“Danielle,” you growl. “Who. Is. It.”

There’s a beat of silence, before she speaks. “… it’s Dieter. Dieter Bravo.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” She’s your best friend in the industry, and you’ve watched her build her business, a solid roster of low-key celebrity clients who can trust her discretion, but this — this is the big time. “You really want to take a referral on this one?”

“It’ll be a healthy referral,” she points out. “He’s looking at five to seven, but he’s willing and able to go to eight for the right property. He won’t buy sight unseen, though — he’s gotta visit them all. The vibes, you know.”

You’re mentally calculating two and a half percent of eight million, minus referral, and you like what you’re coming up with, maybe even enough to genuinely enjoy this. “God save me from the vibes. Okay. Fine,” you say, exhaling. “I’ll do it — does he have a short list already?”

It’s her turn to sigh. “Vibes.”

“Vibes,” you echo, shaking your head. “Got it. Have fun in Cabo, you lucky bitch.”

“Have fun with Dieter,” she sing-songs. “You lucky bitch.”

*

As soon as you set eyes on him for the first time, you know you will. Everything about Dieter Bravo proclaims the fun kind of trouble, like sunshine that didn’t mean to burn you.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets you, looking like he just rolled out of bed and wants nothing more than to get back in it, preferably with you. “Do you come with the house?”

“Only when the earth moves,” you retort sweetly.

He looks stunned for a moment, and then the grin breaks over his face like sunrise and he laughs, long and loud. “I like you,” he proclaims. “Danielle said I would.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” His laughter is contagious, and you can’t help liking him too. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bravo.”

“Babe,” he says, looking pained, and you belatedly remember what Danielle had told you.

“Dieter,” you correct yourself, and he beams.

“That’s more like it,” he says cheerfully.

His assistant materializes from somewhere behind him, handing you a stack of papers. “Standard NDA,” they say. “I’m sure you understand.”

Dieter groans. “Do we have to do this?”

“I’m not offended, I promise.” You smile at him, and start to skim over the contract. It’s all fairly standard stuff, really, apart from the alien invasion bit inserted neatly into the force majeure clause. But it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen turn up in a legal document — this is Hollywood, after all — and you shrug, and sign.

“Amazing!” Dieter claps his hands like a child. “Let’s go buy a fucking house!”

*

Six showings later, you’re exhausted, your feet are killing you, and Dieter’s assistant looks as fried as you feel.

“Food?” Dieter asks hopefully. “Or weed? Or both?”

“I’m not feeling great,” his assistant says, rubbing their forehead. “I’m starting a migraine. Dieter, do you think you can manage without me for the afternoon?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine.” Dieter waves a hand dismissively. “Go sleep it off.” He turns to you, and before he can say anything else, you nod and lead him away.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re seated at a tucked-away patio table at your favorite cafe, and Dieter’s looking much more relaxed, sunglasses pushed haphazardly up into his hair. “How’d you meet Danielle, anyway?” you ask him over the rim of your matcha latte.

“Hit on her in a club in West Hollywood,” he admits. “She was like ‘haha I totally would if I weren’t married, but hey, do you want to buy a house instead?’”

You can’t help laughing. “Yeah. That’s on brand.”

“It was fate,” he says. “Because I did want to buy a house, I just didn’t know it until she said it.”

“All that Cliff Beasts money burning a hole in your pocket?”

“I’m sick of hotels.” He shrugs, looking almost serious for once. “I travel all the fucking time, but — I want someplace I can come home to, you know?”

“Yeah. I do.” You look down at your drink and smile, toying with the already-disintegrating paper straw. “It’s such a stressful job sometimes, and the money’s not as great as everyone thinks it is, but when I can make that perfect match for someone, and I see their face light up when they walk in because they’re finally home — there’s nothing like it.”

“Yeah?” When you glance back up, he’s giving you the softest look you’ve ever seen, and it makes you wonder what his agent could possibly be thinking. The genuine sweetness he radiates is made for rom-coms, not half-assed action flicks. “Well, I’m glad you’re the one matchmaking for me.”

“Me too,” you say softly, your eyes locked with his, and you realize as you say it that it’s true.

It’s hard to remember that you’re working; you’re having more fun with Dieter than you have on any of the actual dates you’ve had recently. You linger at the table far longer than you should, talking about everything and nothing.

Finally, you crack, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. “I gotta ask,” you begin, and you see him tense, just slightly. “Do you believe in aliens?” He looks at you quizzically, clearly not expecting the conversation to take that particular turn. “It’s in your NDA. Alien invasion is one of the situations that gets me out of the contract.”

“Oh, I never read that shit.” He yawns and stretches, and you get an eyeful of his tummy when his shirt rides up. You try not to look — you’re sure there’s something in the realtor’s code of ethics about not ogling your clients, even if they are celebrities — but it’s impossible to look away from all that freckled golden skin. “But… I don’t not believe in aliens, you know? Who knows what the fuck’s out there? My lawyers know better than to leave my ass in the wind.”

“Fair enough, and I appreciate the loophole.” You shrug. “If aliens landed on the roof during one of our showings, you bet your ass I’d be calling TMZ real fast.”

“And I’d support that. Get your bag, babe.” He grins at you. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

You consider your next words very carefully. “I don’t not want to have sex with you,” you admit, and his face lights up. “But I have to do my job, first.”

“Okay, so let’s go do your job and get it out of the way.” He stands up, all business for the first time all day, and extends a hand to you. His hands are warm, slightly calloused, and big, and you find yourself praying that he gets good vibes from this last one.

“I’ve saved the best for last,” you tell him. “I think you’re gonna love this one. It’s been on for a while, and they just knocked the price down to seven-four. I think if you offered a little low, they’d take it.”

“What’s the vibe?” he asks.

“Think Zen, but casual about it. It was built ten years ago, but it feels a little seventies in a good way — lots of stone, warm wood, skylights. Indoor-outdoor living. There’s a koi pond that goes under the house.”

“Funky,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Go on.”

“Separate guest wing with kitchen, ideal for live-in staff — yoga room with adjoining massage area — detached guest house with art studio potential — “ you recite. He’s weakening by the minute, you can see it. “Pool and hot tub, of course — there’s like a waterfall thing, it’s pretty cool — “ His eyes go all dreamy and you know, you just know, he’s thinking about having sex there.

Almost there, you think; it’s time for the clincher. “Six minutes to the Whole Foods on Sepulveda.”

He whistles, reluctantly impressed. “That’s the good one.”

“It is indeed.” You nod sagely.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, tugging you by the hand he’s still holding. “Let’s go.”

*

A few weeks later, you surface to the sound of your phone ringing.

“Can you look and tell me who’s calling?” you call out, hooking your elbows over the side of the pool. “I’m all wet.”

Dieter wiggles his eyebrows at you and answers the call. “Hey, babe,” he says. “How was Cabo? Did you get pregnant?” He laughs. “Yeah, yeah — she knows I have her phone. She’s in the pool.”

“Tell Danielle I’ll call her back,” you shout.

“Yeah, she found me the perfect house,” Dieter says, ignoring you. “It’s fucking awesome. Moved in last week — you should come over and hang. Bring the kids. There’s this koi pond — ” He pauses for a moment to listen to her, and you shake your head fondly.

“Dee,” you warn. “Get off my phone.”

“You were right, you know,” he tells Danielle, grinning and blowing a kiss at you. “I liked her.”

Thanks to @freelancearsonist and @reallyrallyauthor for convincing me this was worth posting 😂