#because... you're being watched my guy...

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace frenetic.

"I miss your tummy" you pout.

"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who she totally notices the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (4 - The Assistant)

Chapter Summary: Wanda is worried that you're being distant and unhappy. She tries to get to the bottom of it without using her powers, but ends up discovering something else entirely. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.1k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: Mentions of smut

A/N: Because it's my birthday today, you guys are getting another chapter tonight. // More author's notes here.

You’ve been awfully quiet since the Harvest Festival. Wanda can feel it—the suspicion you’re ruminating on—simmering just beneath the surface. It gets under her skin, that urge to use her magic, to just pull the truth out of you. She’s done it before. She could do it again.

But she doesn’t.

Wanda stays put, waiting for you to crack, for something to slip. Her fingers itch to do what’s easy, but she forces herself to stop. Instead, she gives you space. If she can’t fix this, if she can’t make you talk, the least she can do is give you room to figure it out on your own. It’s not much, but it’s all she’s got. And for her, holding back like this is harder than anything else—not when she’s already gone to such lengths for your happiness together.

Eventually, Wanda reaches her breaking point. She’s on the verge of using her powers on you again when, one morning, she wakes to find her panties slipped down to her ankles and your head nestled between her thighs. ​​Judging by the way her body feels and the shiver that runs through her, you’ve been at it for a while. Her breath hitches as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and when it crests, she comes with a soft cry, her fingers tangling tightly in your hair. You rise up to kiss her sweetly, and she hums softly against your mouth, tasting herself there.

“Good morning,” you murmur, nuzzling her cheek and down the length of her neck. Her skin is soft and faintly flushed, and you breathe in the faint scent of her—sweet, comforting, intoxicating.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls, her breaths still uneven. She manages a veiled, almost dazed response. “Good morning, indeed.”

You kiss her temple before sitting up slightly, meeting her eyes. Even though you’ve just woken her up with an orgasm and you're staying close, affectionate even, there’s something distant in your eyes—something that only appeared after the festival.

“Can I return the favor?” she asks, her voice still shaky, hoping making you feel good will make her feel better about this whole thing.

You shake your head slightly, “No, you don't have to.”

“But I want to,” she insists softly, reaching out to caress your jaw lovingly.

You turn your head slightly and press a kiss against her palm. “It might be a while before I get there, Wanda. I just took an Adderall,” you say.

Wanda’s disappointed but she nods slowly, trying not to read too much into you calling her Wanda instead of the affectionate nicknames you usually have for her.

“I gotta wake the kids,” you say, slipping out of bed. “Bath time, then school prep.”

You leave the room, your footsteps fading as Wanda lies back, wrapped in the unsatisfying afterglow.

–

When you're with the twins, you're back to your usual, goofy self.

Wanda watches you with a soft smile as you take care of the kids—keeping them entertained enough to get them bathed, dressed, and making sure they finish their oatmeal. She was right—she always knew you’d make a great mother. Now, she’s living in a world where it’s undeniable. You handle everything with such ease, like you were meant for this.

She doesn’t even have to do much beyond cooking and keeping the house tidy. Even with your busy work schedule, you still manage to help out on the weekends and always take care of the dishes after dinner.

This life, the simplicity of it, is everything she’s ever wanted. A home, a family—with you at the center of it all.

It certainly doesn't hurt that you look incredibly appealing in the loose white, open button-down shirt you're wearing, neatly tucked into navy slacks that hug your hips so perfectly. Wanda can't help but wonder if it's even fair for you to wear that to work, considering how good it looks on you.

“Hey, boys, before we head out, what do we say to Mama?” you call out, rounding up Billy and Tommy with their backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Bye, Mama!” they chorus, but you give them a pointed look.

“Uh, and?” you prompt, eyebrows raised.

The twins exchange a quick glance before racing over to Wanda, each planting a sloppy, hurried kiss on her cheek. 

As they attempt to sprint away, Wanda wraps her arms around them, pulling them back into a longer embrace. “Hold on, not so fast,” she murmurs, holding them close. 

The boys giggle and hug her back. “Love you, Mama,” they say.

“Love you more,” Wanda replies, her heart swelling as she finally lets them go. 

They dash for the car, their feet barely touching the ground in their excitement. Wanda then turns to you, expecting a quick goodbye kiss, but you're already by the door, keys in hand.

“I might be late tonight, got some extra work. Don't wait up, okay?” you call over your shoulder.

Her smile falters, and her heart tightens painfully in her chest. 

You've never left without asking for a goodbye kiss before.

“Okay, love. Be safe,” she says. 

Although she’s vigilant in not using her powers on you this time,  it doesn't mean she's out of ways to find out what's going on with you.

–

When Agnes first started trying to befriend her, Wanda wasn’t exactly welcoming. Agnes was never invited—she always invited herself over. Wanda didn’t bring over homemade dishes like most neighbors; instead, it was always Agnes showing up with pies or other sweets for no particular reason. Over time, the guilt of constantly being on the receiving end of Agnes’s attention and gifts nudged Wanda into softening, eventually opening up enough to call her a friend, even if it felt strange at first.

Wanda can count on one hand the people she’s considered her friend in her lifetime. And that already includes you. Aside from you (though you didn’t like her very much at first, in fact, you distrusted her for months before things started to develop in a positive direction), she only really felt cared for by Clint, Steve, and Vision.

Pietro was her best friend. And even after you came into her life, she missed his presence, the way he was protective but also her greatest critic. The way he called her out on her bullshit, and the way he supported her ambitions and motivations, even if they were morally ambiguous just to keep her safe. That Pietro-shaped hole was never filled by anyone, not even you. You just happened to occupy a bigger area in her heart that losing Pietro didn’t hurt as much as it did before you.

So, she’s surprised at how her connection with Agnes has grown into something resembling friendship—a relationship that none of her old friends, or you, would ever approve of. Agnes is everything her other friends were not. She’s not kind or selfless, doesn’t share that good-hearted nature that Wanda’s always been drawn to.

And that's exactly how Wanda ends up riding shotgun in Agnes’s car, tailing you as you drop off the twins and head to work.

Wanda nervously glances over at her friend. “Are you sure she won't notice us?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

Agnes smirks, eyes on the road. “Relax, sweetheart. I know what I'm doing. She won't have a clue.”

Wanda fiddles with the edge of her sleeve. “I just... I've never done anything like this before,” she says.

“There’s always a first for everything,” Agnes winks at her. “Though I never pegged you for the snooping type. Imagine my surprise when you asked me for help. I thought you were very…goody-goody.”

Wanda sighs. “I am. It's just—” She hesitates, almost saying more than she should. “Back home, we always shared our locations on our phones. We always knew where the other was.”

Agnes wonders where home is, because Wanda doesn’t seem to be referring to Westview. 

“Really? Sounds a bit... invasive,” Agnes snarks. “Though, I can't say I’d blame you for wanting to keep your wife on a short leash.”

Wanda furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

Agnes gives a dismissive roll of her eyes. “Come on, Y/N is gorgeous. You must see that.”

Wanda is about to launch into a whole rant about how much she sees it, how fully aware she is that everyone else sees it too, when your car finally pulls up to the school's driveway. She watches as you step out to walk the twins to the entrance. You give the boys a quick hug before they run inside. 

But as soon as you turn back toward the car, heading off to work, Wanda tenses up again.

“She might notice us,” Wanda whispers, sinking lower in her seat.

Agnes chuckles. “Trust me, with all these cars around, we're just another pair of morning commuters.”

“I just don't want her to think I don't trust her.”

“Then why are we following her?” Agnes asks pointedly.

Wanda looks down at her hands. “Because something's changed. And I need to know why.”

Agnes wonders why Wanda won't just ask you directly what's wrong. Though something tells her that this isn't a typical marriage issue. Maybe if she plays her cards right, she might get Wanda to open up just a little bit more—enough to fully let her in.

“You know,” Agnes continues carefully, “if something's bothering you, talking about it might help.”

“It's just... I feel like she's slipping away from me,” Wanda murmurs. She knows she can't confide in anyone about this—especially not Agnes—but she feels like she might burst from all the secrets she's been keeping lately.

Agnes glances sideways at her. “People don't just drift for no reason. Any idea what's causing it?”

Wanda shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “Work has been... demanding lately.”

“Has it?” Agnes presses. “Or is there something else?”

Wanda swallows hard. “I don't know. Sometimes I think she might've figured out that—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip.

Hook, line, and sinker, Agnes thinks to herself. Just a little bit more.

“Figured out what?” Agnes asks, her tone deceptively casual.

“Nothing,” Wanda says quickly. “Just that maybe she's unhappy.”

Agnes bites the inside of her cheek, her smile faltering for a split second. Inside, she’s bristling. It’s maddening how slippery Wanda can be, how carefully she guards her words. The effort it takes to keep up the charade, to play the concerned, clueless neighbor, is starting to wear thin.

But she didn’t get this far just to get this far. 

“Oh, Wanda, if she’s unhappy, maybe there’s something I can do. You know, a friendly ear can work wonders,” Agnes suggests through gritted teeth.

“I appreciate that, but it's personal,” Wanda replies, her voice tight.

Agnes sighs theatrically. “Fine, keep your secrets. But remember, I'm a good listener.” 

Another time then. She is nothing if not patient.

Before Wanda can respond, she spots your car turning into the parking lot of your office building. “There she is,” she says.

They watch as you park and step out, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. You pause for a moment, looking around as if sensing something, then head inside.

Wanda falls back into her seat with a defeated sigh. “She seems... normal.”

Agnes arches an eyebrow. “Isn't that a good thing?”

“I suppose,” Wanda murmurs, though her eyes remain fixed on the entrance where you just disappeared.

Agnes impatiently taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “So, where to now? The salon? Or maybe you want to grab a Margarita to go with lunch?”

Wanda doesn't respond, still staring at the building's entrance. 

“Wanda?” 

At that, Wanda suddenly snaps out of her reverie and unbuckles her seatbelt. Agnes does the same, prompted by Wanda’s sudden haste. 

“What are you doing? You're not going to make a scene, are you?” Agnes.

“I think there might be someone who can give me answers,” Wanda mumbles distractedly.

“And who might that be?”

“Her.”

Agnes follows Wanda’s line of sight and spots Geraldine, your assistant, emerging from the building. Geraldine, who is still wearing the same clothes from when Wanda first met her, starts walking down the sidewalk, oblivious to the two women watching her every move.

“Geraldine?” Agnes lets out a soft, incredulous scoff. “And what do you think she’s going to tell you?”

Wanda is already reaching for the door handle. “She works with her every day. If anyone knows what's going on, it's her.”

“What? But Wanda, that’s—”

But Wanda is out of the car before Agnes can finish, her focus entirely on your unsuspecting assistant. 

Agnes groans inwardly as she watches Wanda’s purposeful strides. “Fine,” she mutters under her breath, her talon-like fingernails scratching the leather cover of her steering wheel. “I’ll let you be this time. But all roads lead to me, Wanda, darling.” Despite her curiosity, she doesn’t stick around. She shifts into reverse, pulls onto the main street, and speeds off.

Wanda steps right into Geraldine's path, causing the other woman to halt abruptly to avoid a collision. Geraldine blinks in surprise but quickly recovers with a warm smile. “Oh! Wanda, hi! Didn't expect to see you here. Are you looking for Y/N? I can take you up to her office if you'd—”

“Hi,” Wanda says, giving a short wave that's more of a hand signal to stop her from talking. “Uh, Geraldine, right? Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.”

Geraldine’s smile dims only a bit. “M-Me?”

–

Wanda doesn’t have to put in much effort to get Geraldine alone for sandwiches at a nearby deli. In truth, it’s more like she tags along after Geraldine casually mentions that you’d be expecting your lunch at your desk within the hour. Though you’re known for being a patient boss—and Geraldine never misses an opportunity to sing your praises, much to Wanda’s irritation—Geraldine is firm about her own punctuality. She cuts her lunch breaks to a strict thirty minutes, ensuring she has time to deliver your meal early.

That doesn’t leave Wanda much time to extract the answers she’s after, but she’s determined to make the most of it.

Still, it’s not in her nature to jump straight to the point. Skipping the pleasantries feels too abrupt, too conspicuous.

“How are you doing?” Wanda asks, trying to match Geraldine’s upbeat energy. It comes out more like a squeak than the breezy tone she was going for. She takes a small sip of her drink before adding, “Good?”

Geraldine’s smile is sunny as ever. “Oh, it got pretty hectic lately at work, as I’m sure you know. But I'm good. How about you?”

Wanda stirs her tea, watching the leaves swirl. “Doing alright. Keeping busy with the boys.”

“They must be growing like weeds,” Geraldine says warmly.

Wanda forces a small smile. “Yeah, they keep us on our toes.” She had hoped to stretch out the introductions, build some rapport first, but her mind is frustratingly blank when it comes to small talk. Conversation has never been her strong suit.

Taking a deep breath, she prepares to dive right into the real purpose of this meeting. “Has everything been okay at work? With Y/N, I mean,” she says. 

Geraldine gives it a thought or two, before answering, “As far as I know. She's been a bit more focused lately, but that's just the board pushing those quarterly quotas.”

“Quotas?”

“Yeah, they're really piling on the pressure this quarter. But you know her—she handles it like a champ,” Geraldine says with a dismissive shrug. “I've been making sure she eats well, though. Only the most nutritious lunches to keep her going.”

“That's thoughtful of you,” Wanda murmurs. Her fingers tighten imperceptibly around her cup, the way Geraldine speaks about you striking a nerve she doesn’t fully understand. Geraldine pretends not to notice anything, just as she’s supposed to.

“You know,” Geraldine says after a beat, “when she’s not working, her mind is always on you and the twins.”

“She talks about us?”

“Absolutely,” Geraldine continues enthusiastically. “Just yesterday, she was showing me Tommy's drawings and Billy's latest test papers. You have a beautiful family, Wanda. Your boys are something special. I can only hope to raise my own kids as well as you do someday.”

“They are,” Wanda agrees, momentarily forgetting about her worries about you. Hearing about the twins always lifts her spirits.

Geraldine sighs happily and takes a bite of her Reuben.

“I'm a twin myself,” Wanda says quietly. “I had a brother. His name was... Pietro.”

“He was killed by Ultron, wasn’t he?”

Wanda doesn’t react right away. The words sink in slowly, like quicksand pulling her under.

“W-What did you say?” Her voice is quiet but carries a dangerous tremor, like a storm cloud about to burst.

Geraldine blinks slowly. “I... I don't know why I said that,” she stammers. 

Wanda's voice takes on a dangerous edge. “How do you know about Ultron?”

“I-I don’t know,” Geraldine insists. “It just came out.”

Wanda slowly tilts her head to the side, her eyes growing cold as it narrows on Geraldine. “Who are you?”

It’s devoid of any warmth—only suspicion and a seething edge that makes Geraldine recoil slightly.

“I'm—” Geraldine stammers, her voice catching. She looks around the shop, desperate for a way out. But there’s no one. The staff who had been behind the counter this whole time is suddenly nowhere to be found. “Wanda, I swear, I don't know. I didn't mean—”

“I think you should leave,” Wanda says finally. The tone of her voice carries the warning itself.

Geraldine stares at her, wide-eyed and trembling. “Wanda, please—”

“Leave.”

In the next second, Geraldine—or rather, Monica—learns the hard way that it’s not a suggestion; it’s a command.

–

“W-Wait,” Darcy stammers, her nose practically touching the television screen from how close she’s peering at it. “Where did Monica go?”

“I think it glitched or something,” Jimmy suggests, peering over her shoulder. 

“That doesn't make sense,” Darcy mutters, frantically rewinding the footage. “She was just there.”

They both stare at the screen showing Wanda sitting alone in the deli, sipping her tea like nothing happened. Darcy wants to bang her head against the monitor. It's the first time any of the characters in Wanda's show has referenced a real-world event, and now they're having technical difficulties? Unbelievable.

Before they can process what's happening, a commotion erupts outside the tent. 

One of Hayward’s envoys bursts in, breathless and wide-eyed. “You guys need to see this!”

Darcy and Jimmy exchange a quick, worried glance before rushing out. Whatever just happened to Monica can't be good, and the situation seems to be spiraling out of control—fast.

[covenofagatha]

Mistakes have been made this afternoon. I have had sake and no food, so fuck it, I'm going to be brave. Agatha/reader, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, praise, and breeding kink if you are still taking requests.

Of course! And to everyone else who requested a fic, they should hopefully be up soon!

A gala to remember

You're feeling a little neglected by your girlfriend so you take advantage of her unfounded jealousy while at a work event for her

Word count: 2400

Warnings: literally pure filth, semi-public sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, blowjob, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, breeding kink, I think that's it

There’s not enough appetizers at the fancy annual gala for the company your girlfriend works at to make you stop being mad at said girlfriend. 

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to try though. 

You’re on your second shrimp cocktail when Agatha comes over to where you’re standing and tightly grabs your arm. 

“Come over here. And put that down,” she hisses in your ear and drags you across the room. You yank your elbow out of her grasp and deliberately pretend that you don’t see her scowl at you. 

It has been a week since the two of you have had sex. You can’t blame Agatha, work for her is really busy this time of the year, but she has come home late every single night since Monday and you’ve barely seen her. 

She had been promising all week that on Friday night – tonight – she would be home early and the two of you would make up for lost time. You had even gone out and bought some new lingerie. You missed the feeling of Agatha’s cock inside you and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week. 

Until Thursday morning, before she had rushed out of the house, she had told you that she was expected at the company’s gala the next night and she wanted you to come with her. 

Normally, you wouldn’t mind attending a work event with your girlfriend, but a lot of feelings had become pent up over the week and there was also the fact that she had given you a day’s notice on cancelling the plans she had made. 

So yeah, you were being a bit of a brat. 

And Agatha was fully aware of that, and wasn’t having any of it. 

“You need to behave,” she whispers before the two of you approach a group of co-workers. 

“Or what?” You scoff sardonically. “Not going to fuck me for another week?” 

“Watch me,” she shoots back. And then she plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” She introduces you to everyone, three men and two women. You politely shake their hands, barely even looking at them, until you get to the last woman, Rio. 

She’s a little younger than Agatha, her pale skin contrasts beautifully with her golden-brown eyes. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, like Agatha, and there’s something about her intense energy that seems to draw you in. 

Speaking of Agatha, she must notice how you’re staring at Rio because she clears her throat and wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Oh, that reminds us, Agatha,” one of the men booms. They’ve been talking about something for the past few minutes but you’ve been zoning out, bored almost to tears. “We need to borrow you for a few seconds upstairs. There’s a contract we need you to look over.” 

Agatha squeezes your waist and you shoot her a pleading look but she’s already leaving with two of the guys. The group disbands and you awkwardly go find an empty table to stand at and eat more shrimp.

Great. Now you’re mad, miserable, and alone. 

Except, maybe not all alone. 

Rio saunters up to the table, holding two glasses of champagne. She hands one to you and silently toasts. You take a sip. 

“Big fan of these parties?” You ask, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has settled over your table. She shrugs noncommittally.

 “They’re good for the company,” she says. “I don’t particularly enjoy parties.” 

You raise your glass to that. “Join the club. I’m only here because Agatha made me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking ill of your girlfriend to her co-worker but you kind of want to vent to someone. 

Rio rests her head on her elbows and her eyes widen. “Agatha Harkness’s girlfriend. What is that like? Is she as much of a boss in the bedroom as she is in the office? Or is she one of those powerful people who submits completely?”

Images and memories of Agatha in the bedroom flit through your mind (she is definitely not the latter) and you choke on your drink, sending you into a coughing fit. Rio chuckles knowingly.

“That’s an interesting question to ask someone you just meant,” you say once you’re finally able to breathe again, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I’m an interesting person,” she retorts with a smirk. You nod in agreement and laugh. 

And that’s when you feel a hand on your lower back and a presence right behind you. You whirl around, afraid it’s some old man, but it’s your girlfriend. 

“Agatha!” Rio exclaims with delight. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

“Excuse us,” Agatha says rudely and grabs your hand to drag you up the stairs of the event center. 

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. “What, Agatha?”  

She doesn’t say anything until you’re past the top of the stairs and she spins you around and shoves you against one of the pillars. You wince at the cold marble on your cheek but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Agatha’s body against your back. 

Particularly, her semi-hardened cock. 

“Were you seriously flirting with Rio Vidal?” She taunts right into your ear. “Was that some pathetic play to get me to notice you?”

You want to tell her that no, of course not, you weren’t even flirting and the only reason Rio had come over was because Agatha had left you all alone, but you don’t do any of that. Instead you wiggle your ass against her, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, and ask, “Did it work?” 

She growls and flips you around, forearm coming up to your throat. “Listen to me, little girl,” she says threateningly. “You are mine.” 

“Oh, am I?” You simper innocently. “I must’ve forgotten in the past week while you’ve been too tired to show me.” 

Her eyes flash with something dangerous. “Get on your knees.” 

It makes you falter. “What?” You look around the two of you. There’s no one up on the second floor right now, but Agatha and her co-workers had just been up here a second ago so who’s to say that won’t happen again? You aren’t exactly hidden from view from the people on the ground floor either. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Despite your reservations, you can feel how wet you’re getting and how much you’ve missed having Agatha like this. So you hike up your floor-length gown and slowly drop down to the floor. The tile hurts but you don’t care. 

You reach up to unzip Agatha’s pants and pull her cock out. The tip is already red and leaking with precum and you gasp at the sight, feeling an ache start to grow inside you. 

“Better go fast before someone catches you,” she says, weaving her hand through your blonde hair. You’d like to remind her that if you get caught, she’ll be the one who gets in the most trouble, but she’s right. There isn’t time for that. 

You drag your tongue up the bottom of her cock and swirl it around the tip, getting immense pleasure when she lets out a small groan. You’ve almost forgotten how good she tastes. 

“God, you’re such a good slut for me,” she says. She collects your hair in a pony-tail as you start to bob your head up and down her dick. You can feel it twitch in your mouth and you tease the vein along the side which makes her hips jump. 

You swallow around her and try to push yourself further down. When you get close to gagging, you come back to lick at her tip while your hand strokes your saliva up and down the rest of her cock. 

“You look so fucking pretty with your mouth stretched around me,” Agatha groans. “Fuck, baby, can I use your mouth?”

You nod eagerly, peering up at her through your eyelids. Something about her using you like a toy really gets to you. 

And then you open your mouth wide and let her fuck her cock into you. You really hope the wet sounds you’re hearing are not as loud for everyone else. 

The need to breathe is burning in your lungs and your eyes are tearing up, but you can tell Agatha is close to cumming based on the tightening grip in your hair, the blissed expression on her face, and the way her cock is stuttering on your tongue. You want her to cum all over your face when she suddenly stops and pulls out of you. Air rushes into you and you cough weakly. 

“What?” You ask, a little disappointed. Without answering, she pulls you off your knees and pushes you back against another wall. She parts your dress at the slit and slides a hand through it to cup you over your underwear, smirking triumphantly when she finds you soaked. 

“God, sucking me off where anyone could see like a whore really does it for you, doesn’t it?” She taunts. “So pathetic, baby. So needy. You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a brat this whole night, right? You want my attention, my cock in you so bad that this is how you’re acting?” 

Embarrassment colors your cheeks but you hold your head high. Nothing she said was false. “What are you going to do about it?” 

She scoffs and smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remind you who you belong to, because apparently a little slut like you needs a constant reminder.” She directs you to hike your dress up and she slides your underwear to the side. She positions one of your legs over her hip and without preamble, she thrusts her cock all the way into you. Your head falls back against the wall with a loud moan. 

Agatha clamps her hand over your mouth and stays still. She is filling you up so perfectly, even if it’s been a week since you’ve taken her. The delicious stretch is exactly what you’ve been missing. 

“Please, Aggie,” you whimper and she starts to move, hitting your special spot every time. “Feels so good.” 

“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” she grunts, picking up her pace. Your mouth falls open but no noise comes out. “It’s like you were made for me. So perfect, angel. Such a good girl.” You nod your head and roll your hips with every one of her thrusts. 

“Agatha, oh my god,” you moan, feeling her nails dig into your hips through her dress. You know that she’s close, can feel her throbbing inside you, and you’re not too far behind. 

“Such a desperate slut,” she croons. If there’s one thing about Agatha you love, it’s how quickly and effortlessly she can go from praise to degradation and back. “Needing me so bad, making me fuck you at my work event because a whore like you wants to be filled. Where anyone could walk up here and see how desperate you are for me. I want them to see what a whore I make you into. Especially Rio. Want her to know who you belong to. Fuck, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up, baby?” 

The thought of her spilling her cum inside you makes you clench even more around her cock. You absolutely love the feeling: the warmth, the way it feels leaking out of you, the times Agatha would eat you out after and taste the mix of your wetness with her cum and then kiss you so you could taste it too. 

“Yes, please, Aggie, fill me up, breed me,” you whine, whispering the two words that the both of you only use on special occasions. 

It has the intended effect because a feral look settles in Agatha’s eyes and she fucks into you with renewed vigor, hands gripping you so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

Or at least you hope. 

“Gonna breed you, baby, gonna fill you up with my cum,” she pants, the effort getting to her a little. “Cum all over my cock like the perfect slut that you are.” 

You take a hand off her shoulder to reach down and rub your clit and that little extra spark of pleasure sends you orgasming all over Agatha’s cock. Her hips splutter and she lets out a long sigh before you feel her twitch inside you and then a spurt of warmth fills you. You moan at the feeling, almost cumming again.

She stays in you until she softens and the second she pulls out, she wipes her cock all over your pussy to clean herself off, smearing the mess all over you, and tugs your lacy underwear back into place. You bite your lip at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and when you take a shaky step towards her, you can feel how drenched your panties are, coated with a mixture of the two of you. 

And now you have to spend the rest of the night like that. 

“I promise I’ll clean you off when we get home,” Agatha says, teasing smirk telling you that her tongue will definitely be involved. You clench around nothing at her words and the images they bring, and you can feel more of her cum ooze out. You’re able to tell that some of it is on your inner thighs and you really hope it’s not visible through the dress. Or on the dress. 

But you don’t have time to worry about that. Agatha kisses you softly and pulls you in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you this week,” she murmurs. “I’m all yours this weekend, I swear on my life. I told the guys earlier that if they had a problem, they’d have to figure it out themselves or wait until Monday.” 

You tighten your arms around her, feeling suddenly giddy. “Thank you, baby.”

Agatha reluctantly steps away after a few more moments of holding you close and you miss her body against yours. “Shall we rejoin society?” 

You pretend to think about it for a second until she smiles and then you take her hand. She leads you back down the stairs, her cum still seeping out of you. 

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXI)

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is The Party… chapters 31 and 32 are twin chapters, the party will be told from both perspectives, this one from Andrew’s and the next one from MC’s. Just so you know…

This is one of the first scenes I’ve written when I began working on this project, so I’m quite fond of it even if it makes me cry…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3678

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, Andrew was certain of it.

He had hoped it wouldn’t, that seeing you flirt with another man would leave Frank unbothered, ignoring you completely. It was a little cruel, maybe, because it meant that you would be sad, that you would be hurt by his reaction. But as he stared at you letting a man trace a line up your arm… your bare arm…

Andrew looked away, feeling sick, feeling like his world was crushing down around him. Collapsing. It was like… like being dumped by Samantha all over again…

He downed his whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor ground him to the present once more, but the relief was temporary, and soon enough, he was looking up at you again and you were leaning to whisper something in that stranger’s ear.

He turned around this time, unable to stomach the sight of him resting a hand on your waist.

The plan was simple. You were to make Frank jealous, by wearing that divine dress you had bought with Andrew, by flirting with another man. Andrew had thought about playing that role, being the man you would flirt with, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t have survived the cruelty of that situation, of you faking to be interested in him that way. Not when he loved you so ardently. And so, he was merely keeping an eye on you now, staying close to one of the tables where whiskey was being poured generously, avoiding to talk to anyone at this gigantic party, checking that you were safe, while you let another man flirt with you and touch your waist…

He downed another glass…

“You’re alright, Andy?”

He turned to his left, following the voice that now called him. Samantha, of all people… brilliant.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered, shifting awkwardly.

“Thanks for coming today. I’m glad we can still be friends despite all of this. I know that it must be… peculiar sometimes, but… Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me for that.”

She placed a hand on his forearm, and once, not so long ago, it would have made his heart grow warm. Now, he felt nothing. It felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, the days when he loved her.

He thought of you, behind him, and he tried not to picture you kissing that stranger, because then he…

He poured himself another whiskey, downed it again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, raising up an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you drinking so much since college!”

“Well, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

He looked at her once more. Her and her dark hair, and her beautiful eyes, and the lips he thought he would spend the rest of his life kissing. How strange… now she let another man kiss them, and he wanted to kiss someone else… Their mouths didn’t belong together anymore. And Andrew then realised that he was okay with that. He wasn’t okay with how it had all happened, how it was still happening… but he couldn’t picture himself loving her again. He was looking at her, beautiful and perfect on paper… and all he could think of was you.

The music was loud, they had to raise their voices to be heard over the shallow beats. The chatter of the room Sam and Frank had rented for the special occasion was almost deafening. Andrew’s head was spinning a little, the alcohol kicking in. He still wanted another drink…

“Do you… do you hate me?”

He frowned, surprised by her question, by how direct it was too. She was a pro at circling an issue.

He thought for a moment, didn’t find an obvious answer.

When he thought of hate, he thought of that man with his hand on your body. He thought of Frank and the way he still made your heart bleed…

“Why are you asking this?” he asked back instead of answering.

“Because I… I know that the way we ended things was… messy. But I don’t want you to hate me. I… I still care about you, Andy, even if…”

“Even if you don’t love me anymore.”

It was becoming a little hard to remain standing, his world was spinning.

Were you still there with that guy? Would you… would you let him kiss you the way you had let Andrew do it in your office? God… would you be the one kissing him, the way you had kissed Andrew that night in your flat?

Samantha blinked, Andrew was puzzled as he noticed tears in her eyes.

“I think… a part of me is always going to love you, Andy.”

His eyes grew round in surprise. Was it working? Was their stupid, idiotic, foolish plan working? This was ridiculous…

… would you go back to loving Frank? Frank was a fucking dickhead…

“Do you ever wonder what could have been our lives if we had remained together?”

I wouldn’t have loved Y/N the way I do now…

And yet a couple of seconds later, he was changing his thought.

I would have fallen for her still… despite loving you…

“I used to,” he answered truthfully, stopping his answer before it would hurt her, but she insisted.

“And now?”

He was too drunk to lie. And if he were to be fully honest, he didn’t mind being rough, hurting her a little. He hated himself for the selfishness of it, but he answered earnestly anyway.

“Not anymore, no.”

“Really?”

“I… I don’t think of you like that anymore. I’ve moved on.”

She raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.

“Have you? So quickly?”

He shifted, uncomfortable. And he didn’t like being bitter, being too honest and being hurtful because of it, but… but you were flirting with another man, and Andrew was drinking too much tonight… And you were wearing that green dress, the one you had bought together, and he could picture you now, and he didn’t want Frank to see you in it and regret you, because he didn’t deserve it and… and you had bought that fucking dress for Frank… for Frank…

“I don’t love you anymore,” he said plainly, the flatness of his tone hurtful by itself. “Like I… I’m not in love with you. I… I want someone else.”

“Someone else?” she asked, and her voice was annoyed but he noticed the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eyes.

She was hurt. But then again, she had been the one shattering his heart and his self-esteem, and his world, and the confidence he had taken so long to build…

He went on anyway.

“Yeah… I… we’re not dating or anything. But I… I like her. A lot.”

“Have you asked her out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she’d be interested. That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

No, he didn’t mind that you didn’t feel the same. You were a little too good for him anyway. Out of his league. You ought to deserve better…

“Now, that’s just your head saying dumb things,” she said, and even if her tone wasn’t kind, her words were reassuring.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Andy… when are you going to understand that… You do deserve to be happy? That you are worthy of happiness too, huh?”

His next comment was unnecessary, but it felt good to tell the truth anyway.

“I had grown better at that while we were together. You breaking up with me to run off with someone else kind of destroyed that progress…”

He stopped resisting the urge to drink, reached for another whiskey, downed it in one gulp.

“I’m sorry, Andy. But we… weren’t right for each other.”

He wanted to argue, for the sake of it, to contradict her, but he was honest instead.

“I have to agree with that.”

He looked in your direction again, just a quick glance, just to check that you were alright. Frank was staring at you from afar too. That guy was leaning closer now, although you didn’t seem so willing to play along anymore. Andrew’s heart quickened, and soon it was pounding…

“Andy?”

“Hmm?” he asked back without looking at Samantha.

A sign… just one sign from you and he would come and make sure that guy would stand back…

Frank seemed to have read your body language as well, the bastard… he was walking over to you. Andrew closed his fists tightly, refraining from crossing the distance between you and him, from pushing that guy away, from telling Frank to fucking leave you alone because, Christ, you deserved so much better than him…

“Are you listening to me?”

Andrew almost jumped as Sam touched his arm again…

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I was… lost in thought…”

“I was saying that I’m glad you and Y/N seem to get along. As you’re working together. I was worried when I learned she was Frank’s ex that it would make things awkward at your workplace.”

“We’re fine.”

I’ve fallen in love with her when I didn’t even think I was capable of loving anyone else after you…

“She seems nice,” she added, but her voice was weirdly flat.

“She is,” Andrew nodded, his heart fluttering as he talked of you. “She’s… she’s grand. She’s really nice, and… she’s a laugh, like… and very smart too.”

“Sounds like a catch.”

He didn’t answer, she didn’t seem to notice.

She was staring at you now too, while Frank had reached you and that stranger. He was talking with the guy, seemingly ignoring you, and even from afar Andrew could see that you were disappointed. The son of a bitch. He was pushing that guy away, without acknowledging you, he was making you feel terrible about yourself, Andrew could tell, and…

“I wonder what Frank saw in her.”

Andrew pondered on her question, and… God, he had so many things he saw in you. Your kindness, your wits, your passion for your work, your sense of humour, your smile, your eyes, the curve of your eyelashes, how fucking smart you were, your warmth, your voice, your way to scrunch up your nose a little when you were thinking, your anger, your talent, your…

… you, just… you…

But Frank? Did he see all that?

How could he have seen all of that, and still leave you?

The guy you had been talking to left, his drink in hand and a polite smile on his lips. Frank turned to you, got a conversation started. And Andrew wished he was right when he thought he could read in your expression that you were forcing yourself to look happy with his attention. Andrew didn’t believe in God, but he prayed still, silently, for you to see that Frank was not good enough for you, for you to long for his company instead… Christ, he hoped he was right when he read in the way you leaned away from Frank that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t want him to touch you the way he had just held your arm…

“Anyway, who’s the lucky woman you’ve spotted then? Do I know her?”

Andrew looked at Samantha, but he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice as he answered.

“I don’t really want to talk about that with you, honestly.”

“Right…”

Frank was taking a step closer to you, his hand inching for your waist…

Andrew was never one to pick up a fight, but he wanted to punch your ex in the face so bad…

“I feel a lot of resentment today, Andy…” Samantha said, trying to dissect his brain, the way she used to when they were together, but Andrew was not in the mood. “Did something happen?”

He let out a long exhale through his nose, refused to answer.

“You said you were ready to put all that happened behind us.”

He was about to argue, but he couldn’t. She was right. What a fucking fool he had been… to think that he should still want her after she broke what they had spent years building, for some random guy she had met a few weeks before. And then she was inviting him to her wedding, and he was there running back right into her arms? She was marrying Frank after knowing him for mere months when she had claimed not to be ready for marriage with Andrew when they had spent seven years together? She had not even agreed to move in with him… It seemed to hit him then, how much of a fool he had been, and the little self-esteem he had left finally took over to show him that he deserved better than to be treated like that. Anyone would deserve better. He was being an absolute fool. And you were too, you and your broken heart and he couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t pretend that all this was alright, that he didn’t want to kiss you…

He had one last question to ask, one last thought that was holding him back, one last answer he was too afraid to receive. He finally asked it.

“Frank left Y/N two weeks before you left me,” he started, the coldness of his tone unusual for him. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”

Samantha blinked.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asked back, but Andrew didn’t back down, his hazel eyes turned into steel.

“Answer me. Did you sleep with Frank before you left me?”

She remained silent, and he knew what it meant.

He thought he would be hurt, and he was, but the main emotion that came rising in his chest, made his blood boil, blinded him for a moment, was hate. Rage and hate. A lethal combo…

He huffed, shook his head.

“I left right after, and it wasn’t planned… it happened once, and then I left, and it didn’t last… it’s not like I was having an affair.”

“Shut it!” Andrew hissed. “Just… shut up for once!”

Her eyes grew round. It was so unlike Andrew to use such a mean tone…

“Andy…”

“I can’t believe you did something like this to me…”

“You’re not perfect either, Andrew, don’t pretend…”

“Don’t pretend what?! That I was always faithful to you? That I loved you? That I wanted to spend my life with you when you dumped me for a guy you barely knew?!”

“And why do you think I did that?” she answered, with venom in her words, and Andrew hated himself for falling for it. He knew she was being mean, that he shouldn’t have believed her, but he was the one always doubting his own worth, he couldn’t help it… “I’m sorry, Andrew, but you weren’t perfect either. And the truth is, I wasn’t happy enough with you.”

The word enough echoed in his head, out of context, he applied it to himself. He could feel his brain starting to spiral… but he forced his gaze to remain on Samantha. His thoughts had turned to you, and he had to check…

“Did Frank cheat on Y/N too?”

“What does it matter to you…?”

“Just. Answer. The. Damn. Question,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling not to shout it instead.

She heaved a sigh, but answered still.

“No… no, he didn’t. The first time anything happened between us was three days before we two broke up. And Frank had already ended things with Y/N to be with me.”

Andrew heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, and Samantha frowned at his reaction.

“What does it matter to you?” she snapped.

“It matters to me that I’m glad her partner didn’t do this to her,” he replied, grabbing another drink.

“If you’re so angry at me, what are you doing here?”

Andrew bit the inside of his cheek to refrain his earnest answer.

Because Y/N needs me here.

“Honestly, I have no fucking clue…”

He downed yet another glass, walked away before Samantha could answer anything, and he headed towards the exit, fleeing the reception. He caught your eyes as he was passing not too far from you, refrained his urge to reach for you and hold you close, but his expression made you frown.

The cold air hit his cheeks, he realised he hadn’t picked up his jacket. The alcohol was getting to his head, the inky sky filled with stars was spinning above his head. He spotted an area with a few trees and a corner covered with grass. He aimed his feet in that direction, unstable, struggling to stay upright.

And you were still in there, with Frank, why fucking Frank, why him, why couldn’t you want…

“Andy?”

He turned around at the sound of your voice, almost falling in the process.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer, extending a hand to steady him if he needed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Are you drunk?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

But the image of Frank leaning closer, reaching for your waist flashed before his eyes. He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his fists repeatedly, not knowing what to do now with his own body, with his too-long limbs, with the knowledge that you too wanted Frank and not him. And Andrew hated that guy for taking everything he wanted away. For making Samantha leave him. For taking the life he thought he was going to build with her. But most importantly, for taking you away, even now… Andrew hated your ex for hurting you, for breaking your heart, and for being unable to let you go, for dragging you along with him, for keeping you dependent when he had someone else, and of course… of bloody course, Andrew had to fall for you, when you loved Frank.

What could you see in a guy like him? What did Andrew lack that made you unable to choose him instead of Frank?

He sat down in the grass, his brain swarming with thoughts that made him as dizzy as the liquor did.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

You sat down beside him.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring. Andrew wanted to cry at the sound, to hide in your arms and let it all out… his rage against Samantha, his jealousy against Frank, his love for you…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” was his answer instead of yielding to his own wants and lean closer.

“You didn’t seem well.”

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

He saw you clenching your jaw, even if there wasn’t much light around the venue. The parking lot was close by, with a few lampposts there. The moon was high and bright though, and through the windows of the venue behind the two of you, light was pouring into the night. It made for a dim lighting, but just enough for him to distinguish your features.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

That fucking asshole… Andrew was certain Frank had hurt you somehow, said something wrong…

“I saw you talking with Samantha… what did she say?” you asked, changing subject and aiming straight for the sensitive one without knowing.

It was Andrew’s turn to clench his jaw. He didn’t say anything.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged, but you insisted, and he ended up yielding.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, and there was wrath shining in them too.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, wanting to alleviate your pain and worry, but your expression didn’t change. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away.

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime for good?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice, revealing of some kind of ache.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

He froze when you leaned closed, rested your head on his shoulder. He reached out without thinking, the alcohol making him bolder than he usually was, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in a tight hug. You remained like this for a couple of minutes, or perhaps a little longer than that, Andrew wasn’t sure. He was too drunk to notice the passing of time, he felt too warm holding you in his arms…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he had for some time now. That he didn’t want Samantha anymore, only you. That he dreamt of you in his bedsheets, dreamt of what you would look like under him, dreamt of kissing your eyelashes. That he wanted to hold your hand, that he looked at you sometimes when you worked, in your shared office, because he just couldn’t help it. That you were beautiful, that he thought about you all the time, that he couldn’t eat at the thought of spending a moment with you. That he wanted to kiss you now, and forget about your exes, and take you on a nice date, whatever you would like.

He wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t.

[carlyraejepsans]

would you be okay pitching ghost trick to someone who doesn’t rly know anything about it? i’ve heard of it before and that it’s good but idk why, and i don’t really get a lot out of advertisements or game descriptions

you know the toby-typical campiness in how he writes his characters in UTDR? over the top, extremely iconic, clearly working from preestablished tropes but doing his own special spin on them? put toby fox on acid and you've got shu takumi's writing style.

ghost trick isn't "just" good. ghost trick is the type of good that invents a whole new categorization for itself. ghost trick invented a situation to put little fictional bitches in that is so good, the most popular works in the tag are people from other fandoms being like "oh shit, let me put MY fictional bitches through in this situation as well"

it is one of the most hooking, satisfyingly delivered mysteries I've ever seen in a videogame. there is not a single second of the game that feels unutilised, everything pushes you forward in the mystery, and still it never feels choking. the way it handles tension and delivers its information is phenomenal. if this were a normal recommendation i would start talking about the gameplay and how fun and good it feels to play and how genuinely clever it is but you're not here for that, are you, so let me tell you the real selling point: every single character in this game is fucking insane. not a single one of them is normal. it's a noir. it's a parody. it's an animator's wet dream. my friend is playing the game on stream and they said his fiancée can tell when we're streaming because she can hear him doing his pathetic man voice on call.

listen to me. you will fall in love with sissel. i played One Shot earlier this year. i thought i was never going to find a game with a protagonist that crawled into my heart as much as niko. i was wrong. jesus christ i was wrong. you need to understand, this is a puzzle game. once you know the answers that's it for the gameplay. the replay value is extremely low. I have replayed it 5 times in three weeks just to make the wrong choices and watch what sissel says and quips about it. he's my guy. i need to hold his face in my hands. you will see his fuckass red suit, you will see his fuckass banana hair, you willl see his goofy little smile and his dirk strider ass sunglasses and you will whimper like a DOG because you miss him so much. i am missing him right now as we speak. fuck.

play ghost trick.

[thebluester2020]

Ok loved the Seb maid post, but now I’m curious about the other Bachelors having a maid kink 👀 Your work is 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Thank you for the compliment, anon! Thankfully, I have a whole laundry list for the bachelors and how they'd be with a maid!reader <3 (Sorry this took so long to get out anon! Thanksgiving break + getting ready for finals, and Christmas has me in a chokehold rn 😔)

Warning(s): Rough Sex (For Shane and Alex mostly tbh), Munch Elliot, Sub!Harvey,

SDV Bachelors Having A Maid Kink

Shane

Y'all already know I have beef with this man so I'll start the slander early.

He's putting you to work, you're going to earn your paycheck when he comes into the cafe. And not through breaking your back trying to fulfill his seemingly never-ending orders of drinks, or him inviting you over to do cutesy hand signs, oh no, that's just part of the job.

I'm talking, he'll be the last customer to leave, and why? Because he has to fulfill his trope of being the "Ugly Bastard" that's always spotted in those NTR mangas (aka bending you over the cashier counter while fucking you to the point of nearly being braindead, all while you tell him how much you just loooveeee your master)

♡ - "C'mon maid, it's like you're not even trying to earn a fat tip."

This guy had been in the cafe since the early evening. For a while now, he'd been watching you and practically breaking your back with the amount of requests he'd been giving you! From requesting drink after drink after drink, to inviting you over to perform little love songs and even draw hearts in his drinks. It'd been non-stop and you were nearly sick of it! So sick of it in fact, that you hadn't even noticed how your customer had been practically eye-fucking you your entire shift. He imagined bending you over and fucking you stupid on almost every piece of furniture available in the cafe.

But his favorite location so far? The cashier counter.

The idea of someone walking in and witnessing him plow the cutest maid of the cafe until she was sobbing for more of his dick had him sporting the biggest hard-on he's ever had in his life.

Luckily, however, his dreams and fantasies seem to be coming true more often lately.

"F-Fuck!" You whined when Shane suddenly slapped your ass, your eyes beginning to well up with tears from the pain as it started to mix in with the pleasure, his cockhead bullying your poor cervix as you grabbed at the edge of the counter for dear life. Shane chuckled when one of your hands came behind you to weakly push at his thigh, hoarse whines and moans of 'Gimme a break' leaving your kiss-swollen lips. "You sure you want a break cutie?" He cooed. "You look like you're enjoying my cock soooooo much though~" As he leaned down, he pressed some of his weight down onto you, his hot breath fanning against your ear as his hands on the sides of your waist pulled you onto his cock even harder.

"If you really want a break, then beg your master a bit more properly."

You sucked in a breath, your pussy clenching harder around Shane's length at the way his words rolled off his tongue. "Well?" He panted, grabbing at your hair to pull your head up so he wouldn't miss anything you said. And eventually, you shook your head, a laugh nearly erupting from Shane as you had basically admitted to him that you loved his cock way too much to even think of a break.

And since that was the case— "Get your hand off my thigh then slut," He tsked. You gasped when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, using the new leverage to fuck into you even harder, tearing groans and high-pitched whines from your throat as the feeling of the veins along the sides of Shane's thick cock rubbed against your walls threatened to make your head spin. "L-Love your cock...!" You said, a brainless giggle leaving your mouth at the end. One that nearly made Shane gasp with how much harder he suddenly got at your words and how shamelessly you said them.

"What was that?" Impossibly, he fucked you even harder, the fat of your ass rippling at the sheer force of his thrusts, creating a delicious scene that Shane struggled to take his eyes off of as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "Say that again."

"M-Master..." You moaned. "L-Love your cock!" Your thighs trembled at the force of your impending orgasm, drool dribbling down the corner of your lips as the knot in the pit of your stomach grew almost unbearably hot. "Iloveitloveitloveitloveittttt!" Your customer smirked at your crying devotion to his dick, his grip around your wrists tightening as a deep groan escaped his throat with how you suddenly squirted all over his dick, your gushing heat pushing him to his own orgasm as he suddenly pressed himself as deep as he could go into your pussy.

A long sigh drew out of your lips, your forehead falling against the counter as you moaned softly to the feeling of your customer's thick cum filling up your insides.

By far, he had to be your favorite master.

Elliot

King of Respect. Very mindful, very demure.

His kink comes in the form of the trope of "Maid does a poor job of cleaning so the master has to teach her how to do her job correctly".

You accidentally spilled tea on Elliot's lap while serving it to him? No problem! Not only would he help you clean, but he'd even give you tips on how to properly serve and clean up your messes, how generous!

In a more straightforward term, it's Elliot being the classical munch.

♡ - Your customer was really good at teaching you how to be a better maid.

When you had accidentally spilled tea on his lap earlier, you had expected him to be angry and cause such a commotion that it'd spark your boss to come out of his office and fire you on the spot! But, he hardly flinched when the room-temperature tea touched him, simply waving it off with a smile and telling you not to worry your head about it.

In fact...he was even willing to teach you how to properly serve tea, as well as how not to spill it so clumsily! And this teaching was, by far, the best one you could have ever gotten from a customer you had just met twenty minutes prior. "Mmm...don't spill the tea dear," Your customer warned from behind you as he sucked your cute clit, slurping up your juices and licking his lips like a dog would lick its chops after a meal. "Otherwise, we'd have to reset the timer, and that wouldn't be fun for you...wouldn't it?" You whined at the feeling of Elliot's long tongue fucking in and out of your cunt, the teacup on top of the serving plate shaking so loudly that you feared someone would come in to witness you being eaten out by a customer.

However, Elliot was good with stealing away any such frivolous thoughts when his fingers began to tease your sex while his lips teasingly kissed your thighs and ass. "Keep still dear," You almost hear the smirk on his ridiculously soft lips. "The cup sounds like it's about to fall~" A shudder ran throughout your body when Elliot suddenly stuck a finger inside of you while his other hand came to massage your ass.

You, oh so badly, wanted to tell your customer to hurry up and make you cum. For the last ten minutes or so, you'd been dangling on the ultra-fine line between cumming and not cumming, each time you'd clench your twitching cunt around Elliot's fingers or your clit would throb in his mouth, he'd suddenly tear himself away and smirk in your face like a wicked fox!

"You can't cum just yet, you haven't learned how to properly do you job yet..." He'd say it in such an alluring voice that it was useless to try and talk back to him, to bat your eyes and attempt to convince him to make you cum. Not that you were complaining exactly, such a handsome man eating you out? His eyes hooded as he focused intensely on his work of making you feel as if you were always seconds away from cloud nine.

And rapidly, you were beginning to approach that peak once again. "M-Master..." You whispered as seductively as you could in the moment without sounding like a shaken-up rabbit. "Please...let me cum," You begged, shaking your ass ever so slightly in an attempt to have his fingers dig further into you.

You clenched when he hummed against you, his fingers leaving your weeping sex with a lewd 'pop'. "Hm...should I?" He moaned when he licked your slick off of his fingers, your taste only making him strain even harder against his slacks. "Have you learned how to properly do your job dear?" You nodded your head all too eagerly, panting out a series of 'Yesyesyesyes!' to your lover as you watched him through blurry eyes slowly stand up from his position behind you. Your tongue licked across your bottom lip as Elliot started to undo his belt.

"If that's the case, I suppose we should put your words to the test, hm?"

Sam

Similar to Sebastion, but I think he would like the possibly of "corrupting" a maid. When he went with Sebastion to Zuzu City and saw how you were doing such a good job, being nice and polite to the customers and generally just being so pretty that he could hardly believe his eyes.

All he could wonder was "What if I molded her to be the perfect maid for me?"

And so he did, classic blondie with blue eyes style, he flirted his way until you (during your work shift mind you!) led him to the storage room in the back and flipped up your skirt for him without a second thought.

♡ - "You're sooooo pretty, miss~"

Amid the lewd sound of your customer's balls slapping against your clit, your skirt flipped up to reveal your ass as your customer currently groped your chest over your clothes. He'd been repeating that same sentence to you for the last few minutes since you had snuck him into the breakroom! Choked-up moans and high-pitched whines tore from your throat as he fucked you into the breakroom's dirty couch, all as if you were some cheap whore!

And to be frank, you might as well have been one at this moment.

Your customer was just too charming when he flirted with you so shamelessly as you worked, nearly forgetting all about his poor friend who eyed you up and down just as much as the blonde did! Thankfully for Sam, however, you found his charms to be just a little cuter, which is why he was balls-deep inside of you right now, cooing all sorts of cute praises in your ear as he hugged your body to his torso like he was afraid that you'd disappear the second he eased up.

"S-Such a cute fucking pussy..." Sam whined in your ear, his rhythm beginning to stutter as he felt himself approaching his high almost embarrassingly fast. "Please...pleasepleaseplease let me cum inside baby," He pleaded. Your cunt tightened around his length at his begging, a gasp leaving your lips when Sam's hand traveled from your breasts to flip up your skirt even more, all so he could rub your throbbing clit. "Fuck!" You cried at the almost mind-numbing pleasure.

Your pulse raced in your ears, your juices dripping from your pussy even more now that he was rubbing your clit like he was just begging for you to go insane! Your arms started to shake, your head lifting tiredly to look over your shoulder at the tear-eyed blonde as you could've sworn you saw hearts form in his eyes when he opened them to look at you. "T-Too much..." You whined. "Baby, please...you're so fucking deep...c-can't handle...it!"

"Yes you can," He insisted before pressing his lips against yours. He whispered a soft 'you have to' against your lips as his lithe fingers increased their movement on your clit even more, constantly switching between a pace of teasingly slow and mind-numbingly fast. Your hand shot to Sam's wrist, fruitlessly trying to get him to slow down before you had let out a drawn-out moan against Sam's lips as you climaxed. Your cunt clenching so impossibly tight on his cock that the blonde could only manage a few more thrusts before he stilled against you with a groan.

The warmth of his cum flooding your insides almost made you sleepy, along with your shaky arms and how tired you were, it only increased that feeling by tenfold as you hesitantly parted your lips from your customer's, a single string of spit still connecting the both of you as Sam held a lovesick look in his eyes.

He took a moment to further catch his breath before he spoke. "When...when do you get off? So I can see you again."

Alex

Okay so hear me out, I can't see Alex going to a maid cafe but—

I can see his grandparents hiring a maid to help out around the house. Every day from 9am to 7pm.

The way you so sweetly helped out his grandparents made his heart skip beats, and the way his grandmother referred to you as a daughter only solidified his budding crush on you!

The final nail in the coffin, however? It was when you were cleaning his room and, in the middle of you changing his bedsheets, the sight of you bent over his bed nearly made him dizzy with how fast blood rushed to his dick.

It was only natural that he decided to fuck you on his bed while his grandparents were out!

♡ - You loved working for Evelyn and George.

When you first came to the valley searching for a job, the older couple hired you without a second thought! And they paid extremely well for such an otherwise simple job description, all you had to do was clean the house, cook a few meals when Evelyn was unable, and even occasionally help Evelyn water her plants! It was the perfect job, and that wasn't even taking into consideration that the couple's grandson was very handsome.

And he thought the same way about you as well. After a long day of working, sometimes he'd be blessed by Yoba enough to spot your skin shiny with sweat. The sight of droplets falling in between the valley of your breasts when he'd see you sitting down for a moment to catch your breath, tired from an hour straight of cleaning...his cock would get hard so fast that it nearly left him dizzy.

Suddenly, he couldn't function right if he didn't quickly excuse himself to go masturbate in the shower, imagining your mouth sucking on his cockhead as he gently coaxed you into taking him even further into your mouth. Your hands bracing yourself against his muscled thighs as the warmth of your tight mouth would eventually have him finishing inside and down your throat.

Alas, it was only a daydream.

Until it wasn't, one day he walked in on you changing his bedsheets, your dress unknowingly riding up your ass as you bent over to fit the sheets onto his bed. The poor guy nearly passed out from how hard he got! Luckily for him and you, he was able to release all that pent-up tension he had for you on you. Which left him with the only viable option left—

Fuck you like a dog on his bed! And thankfully, Alex's grandparents were out.

"Fuucckk..." Alex moaned into your ear, his body currently curled over yours as his arms wrapped around you to pull you even tighter against his body. Your cunt was addicting, in fact, he almost felt insulted that you were walking around his grandparents' house with such an unbelievably tight pussy! Pliant and eager to take every inch of his dick while making the lewdest noises.

"Maybe you should quit being a maid, huh?" He purred in your ear.

You gasped when he nipped the shell of your ear, your arms beginning to shake more and more as Alex fucked into your cunt even harder. His thick length was rubbing against allll the right spots inside of you. "C-Can't handle—Fuck!"

Alex laughed. "C-Can't handle? What?" He mocked you. "My dick? Maybe you shouldn't have looked so good bent over my bed." You could imagine a smirk decorating his face as you felt his dick twitch inside of you, the embarrassing sounds of your pussy seeming to grow louder as you rapidly approached your orgasm. Yet when his cockhead began to batter against your cervix, that delicious sting of pain made you crumble over as you submitted to your sudden orgasm. "Fuck yeah, juussttt like that~"

Alex's hands grabbed at your skin as he leaned back, situating his hands on your hips to pull you back onto his cock even harder as he enjoyed the sight of your gushing pussy practically having a seizure on his cock. When you whined from overstimulation, however, Alex couldn't help but sigh, he almost felt bad that he had to ignore your cute whines for the moment! It was far too hard for him to part from your cute cunt just yet, especially when he wasn't even close to his orgasm. "Bear with me for a little longer, will you pretty?" He chuckled.

"I'm not even close to being finished with you yet~"

Harvey

Kinda similar to Elliot and Alex's in a way? You were hired to help keep his place cleaning, after all, being a doctor meant that Harvey had an extremely busy schedule and thus couldn't be at home all the time!

When he first met you, he already thought you were super kind-hearted and seemed extremely dedicated to your job. He couldn't help how he developed a little bit of a liking towards you at first meeting!

But, like any man, there was always a fall.

And his fall came pretty fast when he came home a little earlier than usual one day, you were on your knees wiping some spilled cleaning fluid off the wooden floorboards.

The outline of your underwear against your dress was so lewd that Harvey fell like a stack of cards against the wind.

♡ - A pair of writhing bodies were on the floor, moaning and panting as hands ran over each other's respective bodies and beads of sweat dripped down their skins. Harvey had a mind to feel bad with how quickly he suggested you clean something else when he had spotted you on the ground, yet luckily for him, you were willing and all too eager to take up a new cleaning task.

One that quickly turned from you sucking him off to you now fucking him like a bitch in heat on the floor, your face tucked into the side of his neck as your ass slapped against his thighs, his hands grasping at your sides desperately in order to further aid you in fucking yourself on his dick.

"Y-Yoba Y/N...t-too fast...!" His moans were so cute, you thought.

But so unbecoming of your master! He was the one who sported an obvious hard-on when you had turned your head to see him staring at your ass so obviously! The least he could do was handle your speed as you fucked him on the floor. "Bear with it, won't you master~?" You pressed a sloppy kiss on his lips, his mustache tickling your face a little before you pressed a hand on his chest to raise yourself up a little. Your cunt clenched tighter around him at the lewd sight before you, your master being flushed in the face with lipstick marks all over him!

Cute pants and whines choked out of his throat along with confused babbling for you to both fuck him harder as well as slow down! It was quite the ego-booster, having a usually composed doctor be so easy to ruin with your pussy. "Oh please, master—" You leaned back down to whisper in Harvey's ear as you slowed down just as he requested, instead grinding back against his cock which seemed to make the doctor whine and grab your hips even louder. "—try to bear with me a little longer, will you please? You're too cute to let go of!" You giggled, your laughter quickly turning into gasping moans as your master started to fuck back up into you.

A tight knot quickly started to form in his stomach, sending him into a spiral of almost blinding pleasure as your pussy was practically begging to suck the cum out of his cock!

He tried to hold back, a weak and needless attempt to impress you more than he already had, but when you had kissed him, tangling your fingers into his hair. That was all he needed before he stilled against you with a muffled cry.

You sighed at the warmth that flooded inside of you, gently fucking yourself on Harvey a little more in an attempt to milk even more of his cum out of him before he whispered 'Too sensitive' against your lips. Thus, you gave him a little reprieve with a smirk. "You've been holding out on me doctor," You chuckled. "We definitely can't stop here!" Your urge to fuck yourself stupid on him grew even more when his eyes widened like a confused puppy's.

You had a new job assignment, fuck your master until he made you dumb on his dick, of course!

[lotusarchon]

I heard you write for POC? Could you write some sfw and nsfw headcanons of wukong reacting to the reader wearing waist beads, I don't think waist beads is very common in china so maybe it's his first time seeing them?

back to the kitty cause she's kinda pretty (sun wukong x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), info gathered from wikipedia so may not be accurate completely, reader is of african descent (trini specifically because yes 🇹🇹), fluffy headcanons, sun wukong being curious as ever, nsfw headcanons, minors + ageless blogs DNI, gentle sex, p in v, cowgirl position, mild breeding kink

author's notes: okay so imma bfr right: this is the first time I've genuinely heard of waist beads, like ever, so Wukong here is a reflection of my own surprise and interest too

SFW;

𐙚 I can personally see Wukong being genuinely intrigued when you bring them up the first time. Mind you, he's never been beyond China and while he has borderline visited India on occasion, that really is about the limit he's done on traveling with his free time. So, naturally, his interest is piqued when you mention them.

𐙚 Wukong's the type of guy to ask you a lot of questions when curious. Though you haven't shown him the waist beads due to cultural reasons, he asks you a lot of questions, like what are their purpose, what do the symbolize, how are they made, etc. It's a good thing he has an amazing memory, but you have to pray he gives you a break between questions. (Which, knowing Wukong, might genuinely be never.)

𐙚 He gives you such a puppy eyed stare to see those waist beads 🥺 please show him, he's just so curious, and you love him, don't you? Don't you wanna show him your pretty waist beads? Pretty please?

𐙚 Dear god he's practically in awe. He wants to touch them so bad―he finds the uniqueness of the chosen gems and your favorite seashells handcrafted by your mother to be gorgeous. The way they settle against your skin and rustle when you move, gods he just wants to touch so bad, but at the same time, he respects you and wouldn't do anything that might make you sad.

𐙚 Consider him surprised when he finds out that in some cultures, the waist beads are intended to be seen only by your significant other. When you confirm he's the first, he is thrilled. To know that you trust him enough to show him…dear god this man is jumping up and down with utter glee. He is not shutting up about it and might also beat up anyone that asks to see it.

𐙚 If it was possible, Wukong would beg you to let him wear one too. He finds them cute and even aesthetically appealing, especially knowing that you don't need them to be all fancy looking or rich. Too bad he's not a girl…

NSFW;

𐙚 Watch him go from sad he can't wear one to intrigued when he finds out in (Igbo) culture, not only does a groom have to give his bride a Mgbájí (waist beads) to ensure her attire is complete, but it's pleasing to watch as the bride dances to her new husband.

𐙚 Well, you know Wukong. Till death till you both part, and he has zero intention of parting with you. You're both practically married at this, point, so wouldn't you love him enough to put on a dance for him, as good wife should?

𐙚 Of course, if you didn't want too, he wouldn't have forced you, but when you wholeheartedly agreed with his request, Wukong thought his dick was gonna bust through his pants.

𐙚 The way the beads looked against your dancing figure, your alluring smile…gah, did he mention how much he loves you? Because, he does, and once you're within grabbing distance he yanks you forward and smooches you so hard.

𐙚 Don't expect to have those waist beads removed, oh hell no. Wukong insists you keep them on, and while he strips you bare, he ensures they're not even hurt by his actions. He wants to see them on your body while he fucks you.

𐙚 His cock literally throbs inside you while you ride him, and the shift of your waist beads while his hands squeeze your ass and your arms are wrapped around his neck are enough to send him over the edge. It genuinely takes a lot for him not to just bend you over right then and there, because he likes watching the beads shift against your body while you bounce on him.

𐙚 Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear he mutters something about knocking you up? And getting you another pair of waist beads to match the one you were gifted with from your mother? Something about you being so utterly divine in this moment, the idea of stuffing you to the brim with his cum and having you as his wife forever and ever..?

𐙚 Long story short, Wukong gives you a baby and keeps his word about granting you another pair of waist beads with pretty flower seeds and shells. Yay.

@lotusarchon, 26.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[icarusredwings]

After Logan was given a piece of the girls clothing, he gave a funny look to the officer.

"... did she own rabbits?"

"Awww bunnys!!" Wade coes, interrupting the conversation. He couldn't smell the scent, but he could tell just from the shirt alone that there was animal hair on it. White, slightly dark tipped.

The officer gave a scrunched up look. "About that... she IS a rabbit.."

"What?" Logan growls, about to rip this man a new one when a woman came to him with big watery eyes. "She's not a rabbit! She's a shifter! S-she just got her powers a couple of weeks ago a-and now my baby girl is lost in these woods!"

"So is she a rabbit or not? Because she sure as fuck smells like one."

"Dang Logan, She lost her daughter, it's not her fault." Wade whispers to him, knowing how frustrated he must be but he didn't want him snapping at the poor woman, whos shirt was already soaked (and starting to freeze) from tears, her hair was a mess, the bags under her eyes suggested that she hasn't rested since she's found out her child was missing, and her skirt was hand stitched, patched in some spots.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down." The officer said.

"Don't tell him to calm down! There's a child missing, and so far, you've done jack shit!!" Wade pipes up, stepping forward and pointing a finger at his nose, actually touching it, only for his hand to be slapped away.

"We've tried tracking her down but..." he starts as the mother sobs into her apron.

"Buuuuttt??" The bald man in 2 different hats questioned, not ready to freeze his ass off for this, but he would want someone to do this if his daughter was missing.

Oh.. those were the days. Logan and him arguing over parenting choices, having dinner together, sleeping soundly at night knowing their family was happy and healthy. But now they were empty nesters.

Heh. That must have been the best 20 years of Wade's life. The only good thing about this is that his daughter having his genetics, so she could stay 16 forever if she really wanted too. Each time she died she regenerated back into that mouthy little girl, though it was odd to watch a 25 year old woman turn into a 16 year old again, especially when remembering that she's 21+ by now.

'No way, young lady, you can't drink your underage!!'

'Dad, i'm 25...'

Man... they grew up so fast.. And they were so proud of all of them. Even the adopted ones along the way like that little rascal Leo who apprently was doing quite well for himself now that he was all grown up. Poor guy ended up having a hairy back and a mane so large that it almost mirrored Sabertooths... so much for being a 'late bloomer'

The sweet thoughts go away when the man gestures to three dead rabbits next to them on the side of the road. "The dogs keep going after our suspects.."

"Woah, Hold on a second. You're having a problem with your highly trained shepherd dog's prey drive so you got THE WOLVERINE?? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard and I once googled if I could put a fork in my toaster because half my toaster strudel fell out instead of just unplugging it!" He shouts, arms going up. "Who's in charge of this operation!?"

"You didn't find that out before agreeing to come!?" Logan growls at him only for Wade to roll his eyes. "Oh, calm your knot, Jacob. I didn't know our helpless little girl was actually a single rabbit lost in a forest wonderland!"

Logans brows furrow with that 'Who the fuck is Jacob?' Look, his face showing more confusion then anger now.

"Alright. So here's what we're gonna do." Wade starts.

"Yeah, No. You already ruined your chances at this, it's my turn. You litsen to me, now!" He says, making Wade's hands go up. "Ooh~ Yes sir."

"Shut up!"

"Ok-"

"I'm taking this. I need a coms, give me a couple of hours and a med kit. The kid might be injured, so I might have to fix'em up before carrying them back here. They'll be weak, so maybe some food too. What does she like? Actually, never mind, get me the file." Grabbing the clothing, he decided it would be better to

"OOh fuck- I'm so wet right now." Wade mutters under his breath, getting a 'what the fuck' glance from the officer.

____

By the time Logan collected all that he needed to leave, Wade (of course) was strapped.

"I told you not to bring those. If anything, the gun powder will scare her, and she'll run off." Logan muttered.

"You never know when you'll need to shoot something, Loagie. Besides, I have flares too. And the snacks." He says, opening the bag as they walked, rummaging through it. "Why is there so much deer jerky in here?"

"I like deer jerky." He grumbles, slightly annoyed as the air was pricking his nose.

"I know that but is that the only thing they packed?? Aren't rabbits herbivores?" He says, still looking with a frown. Maybe he should have taken Ro up on that soup...

Not to mention, while he had one idiot in his ear, he had another in the other one.

'Logan, you should be coming up to where-'

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I can smell it." Glancing over, he saw that the puddle of blood from the other rabbit half way already covered with a new layer of pure white.

Squinting, he breathed slowly and smelled deep.

"There's a storm coming.." he says over the mic.

'We know, that's why this is so important.'

"Wait a second, you sent kurt out here KNOWING there was a storm rolling in!? And then you dragged me out here knowing damn well I've never stepped foot in these woods!?"

'He volunteered, and we called you first. You just refused to pick up. And yes you have, you have a cabin somewhere out here.'

"No I don't!"

'Other Logan did.' Scott mutters.

"How many times to I have to fucking tell you that I don't have his memories!? You sent me into unknow-"

His nose twitches, stopping as he got a whiff.

"Oh, he's got something. Whatcha smell boy? Show me!" Wade coes, giggling a bit as he pats his knees, causing Logan to growl, blushing, embarrassed at the puppy talk.

Walking off, he changes direction, leaving the premade path of boot tracks and paw prints.

'What are you doing? Stay on the path!... Logan? Logan! Now is not the time to go all lone wolf! Loga-'

The Wolverine gives a snarl of annoyance, trying to both pinpoint and smell with the nagging in his ear. Taking the head set off and turned, dropping it in Wade's hands, who made a 'Oooh!' Sound, putting it on instead with a big smirk.

"Hiya! You're on air with us at red and yellow radio station! What's your question caller?"

'What? Wade! Give it back to Logan! If he goes off track, we won't be able to-'

"Aht, i'm gonna have to cut you off, caller, This is our mission, our gig. Don't worry, I won't lose the big guy. Right now, he's looking at a tree. And now hes sniffing. Oh now he's glaring at me, and now hes-"

"Wade!! Hush!"

"Sorry caller, gotta go-"

'Wade? Deadpool? Wade!! Don't you dare go rouge! Wade!!!'

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[yanderedrabbles]

What would yandere mafia do if he seen yn with another guy?

He's your driver for the day and his eyes keep slipping to the rear view mirror to watch you.

You've got your arms stretched out along the backrest, a slim cigar drooping from your fingers and your head tilted back. Everything about you exudes a quiet, deadly confidence that still frightens him, even after all this time.

"Take the I76 and turn off at the airport."

"Yes ma'am."

He expects to maybe exchange some cargo or hand something off to a mule. He doesn't expect you to be picking up a man.

And he sure as hell doesn't expect you to hug the guy.

You - the cold hearted, merciless mafia boss - have your arms draped around a man's neck. And worse even than that, you give him a kiss on the cheek.

He's too shocked to move and when you tell him to grab the man's luggage, he takes a second before he manages to follow you.

In the car, you offer the man a pull of your cigar. He can see the slight stain of your lipstick on the filter before the man leans forward and covers it with his own lips.

It feels as intimate as a kiss.

And it makes him want to bite the man's face off and tear his throat to ribbons with his teeth and feel blood run like water down his throat. Instead, he just clutches at the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and numb.

No matter how much he hates seeing you with anyone else, you're still his boss.

Whoever this man is, you wouldn't take kindly to him being hurt without your explicit orders. Because the one thing he hates more than this smug bastard is the thought of you being angry with him.

And so he drives you back home and has to hang onto the door like a lifeline when the man rests his hand on your waist.

You tell him to come back tomorrow morning and he spends the rest of the afternoon drinking, trying not to think about you and the stranger all alone together.

He gets into a bar fight and it's almost a relief to be throwing punches. When he washes the blood off his knuckles, he pictures the stranger's face breaking under his punches.

In the morning, you see the bruises on his face and suck your teeth in annoyance.

"Why'd you let them ruin your pretty face?"

"It was a lucky shot ma'am."

You push the hair out his eyes for a better look and shake your head.

"Be more careful next time."

His throat goes dry at your touch.

"Yes ma'am."

Your hand slips from his head down to the nape of his neck. Your hands are so warm, so soft, that he almost melts. And the way you hold him is borderline possessive, the way a dog holds a puppy by the scruff of its neck.

"I'm proud of you. You behaved very well around my brother yesterday."

"Your brother?"

He feels a rush of relief and under it, a slight sense of trepidation. Were you baiting him? You didn't mention anything about the stranger being your brother.

You smile that cold, calculating smile of yours.

"You didn't think he was my husband, did you?"

He feels blood rush to his face.

"N-no ma'am."

"Good." You squeeze his neck a little before pulling away.

"I'd hate for you to think I had a lover."

[hotvintagepoll]

Edward Everett Horton (Holiday, Top Hat, Arsenic and Old Lace)—Edward Everett Horton was a character actor who appeared in over 100 films between 1923 and 1971 who excelled at playing nervous, tightly-wound characters encountering mishaps or otherwise out of the element. You only have to watch his world-famous double take to see why people kept hiring him as the nervous best friend of the main character, a put-upon suitor to a leading lady, or the person in charge of making sure the show was a big success. A 1940 article in Time Magazine stated that “In all his contracts, Horton includes an unwritten clause that he shall not be compelled to play a married man, kiss a woman, have any children.” This does not reflect the roles Horton actually played, either before or after 1940, but it does sum up his vibe pretty well, his vibe being “gay and anxious.” It’s a wonder he’s not already tumblr’s favorite character actor! In another article about a Broadway run of Springtime for Henry (a show that Horton toured around the country, to the tune of more than 3,000 performances in his lifetime) he’s described as having a “persimmon face, crow beak nose and scissor lips” which feels pretty “scrungly” even if, at six foot two inches, Horton doesn’t really fit the definition of “little.” He steals just about every scene he’s in, thanks to his excellent expressions and impeccable comedic timing, managing to be funny and believable. Or as Horton himself said “The reason people think I’m funny is because I remind them of someone they know. Somebody who probably annoys them considerably, but for whom they really have an affection”.

Ed Wynn (Mary Poppins, Babes in Toyland)—you cant have a scrungle if you cant have a dapper silly guy who' s floating on the ceiling ! now can you !

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Edward Everett Horton:

He was just perpetually anxious, and being around Fred Astaire trying to woo Ginger Rogers, or whatever Cary Grant was doing would make you anxious. I just feel delighted every time he graces my screen

i know he's already in but he's the funniest character actor who ever existed so have some additional propaganda for the most perpetually startled and put-upon and woe-betide-me crumpled napkin of a man to ever sigh beleagueredly on the silver screen. master of the double take, the triple take, maybe even the quadruple take. he's in SO many movies and he bumbles and scrungles his way exquisitely about all of them with the deft precision of his comic timing and the minute flicker of every facial expression. he's the odd little man i'm always happiest to see pop up anywhere. tends to play a charmingly ineffectual fussy bachelor in need of a tums who things are always happening to.

Ed Wynn:

[emo-mohawk-boy]

The Foundations of Decay Lyric Analysis

(Basically me yapping about my theories for lyrics, lmk if you have any ideas!!)

See the man who stands upon the hill- Hills are higher areas of land. If he's standing on a hill, maybe he's above everyone else (higher position? Rank? Mentality? Experience?) He dreams of all the battles won- Whose battles? Likely his, but maybe his opponent's battles? Potentially glorifying war But fate had left its scars upon his face- Marked in some way? Wounded in battle? Or maybe just a way of saying he's destined to do something With all the damage they had done- Who is being referred to as "they"? Dictator? Fate? Enemies? And so time, with age/It turns the page- Could mean time erases everything? Maybe he's getting old? Let the flesh/Submit itself to gravity- Again with the aging theme, maybe using plastic surgery or something to not have skin sag? Or his body needs to fall (gravity) from the hill he's standing on (first line) Let our bodies lay/Mark our hearts with shame- Could be something about lovers? Marking hearts with shame because they didn't love who they were supposed to (Gay? Not following the Dictator?) Let our blood in vain- Killing "us" won't do anything? You find God in pain- Religion is powerful, maybe being in pain or causing pain causes you to further your faith? Maybe you become like a god? Now/If your convictions were a passing phase/May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays- If your convictions (what convictions?) are wrong, your ashes (death) will feed the river (MOAT?). Morning rays could indicate the start of something; maybe your death is a catalyst for rebellion? And as the vermin crawls we lay in the foundations of decay- What exactly are the foundations of decay? Is it a place? A feeling? A state? Maybe the vermin are taking over as we're unable to help?

He was there, the day the towers fell- 9/11? I've made a post about this theory as well; maybe the Dictator witnessed 9/11? And so he wandered down the road- Could mean he had a glimpse into the future? And we would all build towers of our own- Everyone has their own towers, meaning they could all have their own 9/11-esque events? Towers are generally secretive places, so maybe people don't trust each other anymore? Only to watch the roots corrode- Maybe realizing their beliefs are not what they believe in anymore (Revolution?)? But it's much too late/You're in the race- What race? Electoral race? Running away or towards something? Maybe it means you've already started and it's too late to quit now? So we'll press/And press 'til you can't take it anymore- Maybe pressuring you to do something? Like finally convincing someone to do something? And if by his own hand his spirit flies- Suicide?

Take his body as a relic to be canonized- His body becomes a relic? Canonized? Could be another possible reference to becoming god-like. Bodies aren't typically considered relics unless they belonged to someone important (Dictator?)Now/And so he gets to die a saint but she will always be a whore- Seems a lot like what many women experience, they say a guy raped them and nobody believes it, they just think the woman's a whore. A more likely reason based on the videos so far could be that a man (Dictator) can gain power and eventually pass away as a saint; if a woman did that she might be accused of sleeping her way to the top? If he's the Dictator, he could die a saint (again, religious reference). But who's the woman in this situation? The only two women we know about so far are the Secretary and the Opera woman. Neither of those seem like they'd really fit this line.

(You look stressed out)- Why do you look stressed out? Is there a major event happening??

Against faith (cage all the animals)- Another religious theme. To go against faith could mean to go against the Dictator. Politicians are sometime called animals? Against all life ('cause the message must be pure)- So life isn't pure? Are we trying to make life pure? What message is being sent that must be so pure? Against change (you can wander through the ruins)- Go against change? Is the world a good place as it is under the Dictator's rule? Is the Dictator about to rule? You're allowed to wander through the ruins but what ruins? 9/11 aftermath? Ruins of an old world? War? We are plagued (but the poison is the cure)- What are we plagued by? If the poison (Party Poison? Unlikely but possible) is the cure, does that mean we have to die to escape the plague? Is there misinformation? You must fix your heart- What about my heart do I have to fix? Is it because I'm mortal? Do I need to start following the Dictator? And you must build an altar where it swells- Where what swells? My heart? Altar=Another religious object, build an altar for the Dictator? When the storm it gains/And the sky it rains- Storms are typically bad and destructive? Let it flood/Let it flood/Let it wash away- What are we letting the storm wash away? A past life? Beliefs? Cities? And as you stumble through your last crusade- Final mission, stumbling could mean you're getting weary, maybe that's why it's your last. Crusade=another religious theme Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?- Will you accept death? One of the previous lines is about your ashes feeding the river in the morning rays. Maybe your death is the start of a new era? And as the swarm it calls we lay in the foundations- What swarm?

Yes, it comforts me much more/To lay in the foundations of decay- Why is it comforting? Are you finally done fighting? Are you the foundation of decay to come? Get/Up/Coward- Maybe you have to fight and choose something that's not comfortable. Is it cowardly to lay in the foundations of decay? Is it something the Dictator designed?

[unfriendlies]

it was pretty obvious at this point that there must have been some sort of feelings beyond friendship that darius had for angel, especially if he believed angel would only be safe with him and nobody else. "it's okay if you talk about what happened to you, i don't want people knowing what he's done to me. you're my best friend, the way you looked at me last night," he looked away, shaking his head. "you were disgusted with how i looked. i can't begin to imagine what other people would think of me." his voice grew softer as he spoke, speaking just above a whisper by the end of his statement. there wasn't a whole lot that he remembered from last night, just little moments and angel lifting up garam's shirt to see the bruises on his torso was one of those moments. really, garam had no idea what angel might have said to darius, or even other people. and that scared him. garam didn't want to feel pitied, he didn't want to be looked down on for the choices he made. he thought he was in love, he was looking at the world through rose colored glass. the last thing he needed was for the details of his relationship to become public knowledge. with the fans he had as a popular streamer, he also had his fair share of haters and he knew that they would use this against him if they'd found out. darius barely knew him and he already holding garam's relationship against him. he found himself rolling his eyes dramatically, "i didn't mean like an actual dog. he's just big and scary like a good watch dog would be." he truly didn't mean any harm by it. garam nodded his head in agreement to the shower, knowing that the water would probably help the dull throbbing ache in his head from their night of drinking. he waited until angel had left before going into the bathroom and turning the water on. garam didn't particularly like using other people's shower products simply because the ones he had at his place were formulated specifically for his hair texture, and he was a bit sensitive to smells but he liked angel's scent so he figured using his shower products wouldn't hurt too much. but of course, being left alone, garam got too into his head and he began to worry. was this guy right? was angel really not safe with garam or was it his own feelings for angel that forced his bias? until his ex decided to give on garam, there was no way angel was really safe. he began to panic, the only thing he could think of doing to calm himself was to sit on the floor of the shower. his arms wrapped around his legs as he hugged his knees against his chest, letting the water run over his body. he didn't realize just how long he'd been sitting there until the water had run cold. garam had gotten up, turned the water off, and quickly dried off before walking back into angel's room and into the closet. he wasn't too picky with what he chose to wear, knowing that he'd be practically swimming in anything he chose, so he went with clothes that would hide both his arms and legs. once dressed, he made his way back out to the living room. he didn't look at either men as he sat down on the couch, picking up his phone in the process to look through the dozens of unread notifications. he remained quiet as he read through some of the texts, none of them worried garam until he scrolled down to another picture. he glanced over to darius but quickly looked back to his phone just as another text was coming in. i'm going to work but i'm going to swing by your place once i'm out, i hope to see you there. he sighed heavily, at least his ex wasn't hanging around and they were safe to go back to his apartment to pick up the things he needed. "you should know i would never let anything happen to angel while he's with me." his words were almost mumbled. if he was brave enough, he would have told darius he was used to his ex's aggression, just as he'd told angel, and would easily take the man's fists if it meant angel was safe. but how could he say that without leaving way for the other's curiosity to swell? "he's my best friend, i'd leave if i thought angel was in any danger."

For some reason Garam questioning him upset Angel. He knew Garam was just upset about hearing someone talking about him. Anyone would be. Maybe it was lack of sleep but the taller man snickered and shook his head. “He doesn’t think I’m safe with anyone but him” Angel let out a deep sigh rubbing his hand over his face. Ever since the other man’s confession he had been rather over protective of Angel. Questioning his every decision which he wasn’t a fan of. But he knew Darius heart was in the right place. Longing after Garam for so long it felt nice to have someone who openly shared his feelings with him. Who cared for him as deeply as he cared for Garam. He hated being in the middle of the two. He wished they could get along. However, from the way they were both talking that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. “Listen I know what you heard didn’t sound the best. But I wasn’t talking behind your back. He asked if I was okay and what happened last night. Garam it affects me too. I need to talk to someone.” Angel frowned now crossing his own arms. His glance went to his feet as he tired to calm himself down. Snapping at each other would make a tense situation worse. At the end of the day it wasn’t either of their faults. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of talking about you specifically. It’s not my intention to make excuses but I wish you would see my side. Garam you showed up here battered and bruised. He was sitting right in the living room with me. Would you not ask if you were him? Especially after I kicked him out as soon as you got here? And I also defended you immediately.” Angel could feel himself getting worked up again. The feeling of Garam questioning him felt personal. Angel did his best to always put his best friend first. He went silent for a moment taking a step back. “He won’t come into your apartment. I’ll be sure he respects you. But respect is a two way street. Don’t call him a dog. He is only here to help.” Angel muttered glancing back at the door. Leaving Darius to his own devices for too long would only make the situation worse. “Take a shower. You can borrow whatever you want from my closet. I’m going to finish breakfast. We can all eat together and have a proper conversation. Clear the air. How does that sound?”

[dood-itsradical]

Cool? Cool.

Pairing: Jake Kim x GN!Reader

Summary: An awkward rendezvous with Big Deal's leader.

Genre/Trope: Friends to enemies to friends to more(?). Non established relationship. Can be viewed as platonic as well.

Warnings: Cussing, self/oc indulgence? (I mostly wrote this for myself), no use of Y/n, MIGHT be OOC Jake (judge them yourself, this my first time writing for Lookism).

A/N: It's been TWO YEARS since I post fanfics so I might be lil stiffy, bare with me chat. I DON'T do request btw!

Masterlist

“Man, so what now? We just…went back to stop being allies?” You questioned bluntly.

It's been a few days since the Hunt for Gun event. Everything went back to how it was. Or some would say, for the better. You weren't exactly on any sides of the crew. Scratch that, you were one of the Workers. And to be fair, you sort of still carry that guilt. Like Samuel, you wanted- no, needed money. Again, scratch that, you aren't exactly like him, God bless. You just have responsibilities at home that need to be taken care of.

Because first of all, being a broke college student got you into this shit and you practically worked your ass for it. You just wanted to pay for your student loans, bills and groceries. Second of all, news flash, Korea ain't as great as influencers described them to be. When you first moved here, you were still expecting the struggles of the norm. Not fighting gangsters. Let alone joining one.

Thirdly, you know basic martial arts. You know what, fuck that. You're actually pretty decent at it. Sparring and training with these dudes around you, paid off. And through the journey you gained friendship, learning to understand different types of people. That includes multiple reality checks, unlocking new traumas as the list goes on. Part of you have thought of the alternatives and the what ifs. While the other half is actually grateful.

“It never has to be that way, you know?” Daniel replied, offering a soft smile.

You wanted to ask if the whole fighting and scheming thing is over, now that Charles Choi is gone. So is the matter of the Red Note. But you keep those questions to yourself, knowing it's far from done when Gun is still alive even if he's in juvie. Besides, he's not the only bad guy they need to watch out for.

You shrugged sheepishly, hands shoving into your pockets. “Right.” Your head turned to the ground for a bit. Daniel senses this and continues, “We're still friends, right?”

You looked up relieved by his words, “Of course. You're cool. You too, Jay.” You added. The blond gave you a big sincere smile as you bent down to pet the puppies. They equally ushered closer for attention. Your expression softened before exhaling.

“Hey.” You started, taking a second to collect your words. “You think Big Deal would diss the hell out of me if I go in their turf? I need to talk to Jake.”

Daniel shrugged back, giving his usual reassuring energy. “I don't think so, after everything. You want us to accompany you there?” You shake your head, mimicking his smile, “I'm good. Thanks though.”

It was by then you found yourself stepping in Big Deal’s street. You weren't a coward, but you still hold respect for each of Four Major Crews. If you are being honest, you didn't even belong here. You're just a person who was caught up with your own personal issues and was left with no options but to use physical violence for your own selfish gain. It wasn't selfish, you told yourself. You just have your own goal and achievement like everyone else.

You were immediately recognised and being semi interrogated by the other Big Deal members due to your sudden and random arrival. You kept your tone as calm as possible. Getting straight to the business and voila! There's Jake.

You muttered a thanks to Jerry before turning to your old friend. Ice breaking sucked, this everyone can relate. But man, you acted like an ex begging to get together with him again. “Sooo……”

You trailed awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere in the room except him. “Big Deal's boss doing paperworks, huh? Guess nobody escaping that.” You tried to humour him, to light up the mood, anything. And luckily, he stifled a chuckle. Or a subtle exhale, you counted it as that either way.

“Yeah, well, it's my responsibility now.” Jake replied, shifting in his chair while leaning back.

To put it simply, you and Jake aren't completely strangers. You two were somewhat colleagues, let's put it that way. You never dare ask about the friendship part. Are you two even friends? Buddies? Amigos?

I mean you're very much aware of Big Deal's history. Jake isn't so secretive, mind you. You've privately met Sinu himself before, good man. You're most definitely familiar with Samuel. And by God, you weren't very fond of him. But you didn't judge him either, and as mentioned, everyone here has a personal goal. You've managed to exchange conversation with him from time to time. If I may say so myself, a LOT. Boy, was he an interesting character.

When you first joined Workers, you were clueless. Eugene offered you good deals. Obviously you hesitated in the begining. You were no fool, you knew what you signed up for. Fortunately for you, you weren't involved too much. You did side jobs, mostly undercover. When Jake finds out, he confronts you. Which actually surprised you. You fought him. You fought everyone else while sticking to the white uniform. Although he can definitely tell you held back at that moment.

“No hard feelings, Jake.” You said back then before getting into stance. You took his hit many times, hardly using your full strength before discovering you were just buying him time to let others finish their business. And he didn't blame you either. He felt bad. Guilty even, that he couldn't offer you better hospitality, better support. And yes, he admits that he was kinda cold back then. He never gets the chance to apologize. But he does now as you basically presence yourself to him.

“You aight? You know, after all the…” You trailed, subtly recalling the recent fiasco. He blinked before nodding, “Just peachy. You?” You nodded back. “Yeah.”

As if it couldn't get any awkward, you were starting to regret showing your face here. On top of that, he wasn't any near being his suave self. He had it fine with the others but with you? There's an unfinished business. He thought it's odd. It's exactly the same scenario that happened between him and Samuel, yet the tension wasn't supposed to be this palpable as far as he know.

“I'm sorry-” You both said in sync, now looking at each other weirdly. Chuckling nervously, you both did it again, “You first. No, you. Not me, you. Fuck.”

Sighing, you both let out small genuine laughters. “No, seriously. You first.” he offered.

You nodded, “No hard feelings, right?”

He smiled, “No hard feelings. It's good to see you again.” You returned the smile, the burden finally left your shoulders. “Same here. You didn't break a bone. I'm not surprised.”

He leaned forward, folding his arms on the desk. His arms bulging through the fabric doesn't go unnoticed. “Well, colour me surprised. You didn't either.” He joked back. His mood has lifted as did yours. You rolled your shoulders, pretending to flex slightly. “I tried.”

“Say,” Your expression turned slightly serious, still with a bit of amusement in your tone. “I guess I owe you a jack of explanation, huh?”

He tilted his head, “Oh? Do you, now? Lemme check.” He pretended to go through his paperworks. You just chuckled, shaking your head at his sense of humour. “Asshole. I'm serious.”

Jake faced you again, “I know. And I'm listening. We can get food while we're at it.”

“Let me guess, my treat?” You raised a brow.

He gets off from his seat, his duty now left abandoned. “C’mon, I'm not a monster.” Slinging his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the exit.

[lover-of-mine]

OK since you brought up the Tommy break up thing, well I'm weighing in because this has been bothering me with the narrative it has anything to do with sexuality

Honestly, if you disagree, please enlighten me because I would love to know.

IRL. I dated a guy who had a girl best friend. It didn't bother me at all. She was cool. But after a few months we were out shopping and he saw something that reminded him of her and he got it. Still not threatened but started watching. After subtle questions it was clear they had never been single at the same time. The way he talked about her, seriously subconsciously in love with her. When I did catch deeper feelings, I did initiative a friendly break up. I wasn't jealous or petty. Never even mentioned her. But in the back of mind it was clear. If she ever game him the chance he would probably take it. Who knows how deep I would have been then.

Honestly both the nicest people. To this day nothing has happened between them that brings me to my next point. She maybe wasn't subconsciously in love with him. She never showed any jealousy to me. But the point was I knew he was. That's Tommy's story. If you didn't catch it by his surprised me in E4 then I can't help you.

Them screaming Eddie's straight. It doesn't matter. Tommy knew from the beginning there was a third person in their relationship. He was having fun but avoided the feelings catch. He saw them together. He knows!!!

Long story short take the sexuality out of it. The story makes complete sense. Buck and Eddie were always going to be shadows in each other's relationships. Tommy was just the first to really see.

I totally agree. I was the girl best friend, and not going to detail on how I actually imploded my oldest friendship, my whole life if he got a girlfriend she never reacted well to me and i was always ready to say it's not like that, he's family, and all that. Hell, the day that I realized that I might have been in love with him, I actually like I laughed at the idea of being his girlfriend because someone assumed and then something happened and I was like oh fuck. I never thought about it like that, but he was the only person that my ex would go 🤨, all of his girlfriends I needed to prove myself too (i never had a problem with it, I knew what it looked like it but for me it wasn't like that until it was), it was always a situation where I felt like they were seeing something that we weren't. Now with the current clarity I have about the situation, I'm like okay I see it now, I guess there was something there, I just wasn't aware of it. And Tommy has a clarity that none of Buck's girlfriends had, that it's the fact that he knows Buck is queer. And when you take that into consideration and you look at his relationship with Eddie, there is only so much you can do without being like, okay how long until you wake up and realize you're in love with him. So I think it's a lot about protecting himself in the long run, it's not about sexuality, it's about the fact that Tommy has an insight to Buck and Eddie's relationships that none of the girlfriends ever had. He sees them from an outsider point of view and he has the knowledge that Buck's queer and knowing that it's harder to ignore it, to not be like, yeah how long until I'm in too deep and he realizes his feelings. So yeah, I don't think it's was about the sexuality at all, it was about the the fear of getting into deep and wondering what would happen if Eddie became an option.

[rat-rosemary]

I wrote angst earlier so now I’m thinking about Phoenix Sapnap and his Phoenix boyfriend cuddle puddle 🥺

Augh. Aughhhhhhhhhh

I cannot help you because in my heart I want them all to have a happy ending and be gay and polyamorous together and for Serpias to show up one day with Quackity tied up under his arm asking if this is the dead guy Sapnap was so sad about

You cannot come to me with a ship if you don't want it expanded

(Also I somehow came up with 1- the weirdest au of your au where Dream is the black rabbit of death for some reason (don't ask, I think George was also a being of death so the dteam were all death creatures) and 2- a crossover with my god of the wild au simply because I think C!Tommy telling someone to fucking throw him at Emperor Tommy and turning into a squid mid-air so he can drag the gremlin underwater and drown him while the other winged watch in horror is funny)

But also Sapnap and Shadoune have a habit of reaching for each other in their sleep and squishing anyone in-between them (very comfy for other Phoenixies, might actually cook you alive if you're anything else) and some Phoenixies chirp in their sleep, specially if whoever they were cuddling moved away somehow

[rmbunnie]

I'm reading A Lonely Place of Dying and Alfred latching immediately onto Tim is NASTY work. Tim shows up and is like "I never aimed to be Robin! I mean I did karate my whole life to emulate Robin and just so happen to have sought you out and grabbed this costume in my size out from that case and really you should be calling me Robin just for now and let me come with you as Robin but I never dreamed it would specifically be ME being Robin. You have a lovely house and home btw :) Now go back to being 10." And Dick's understandably like "No I am a grown man now who are you" and Bruce is not here for this one, but later on is like "You aren't Robin, you're some kid dressed up like my dead son." But Alfred?

IMMEDIATELY Alfred is implying Dick was trying to subtly ask Tim to be Robin (simply not true in in NTT 61, when the implication is made, although he changes his mind in Batman 442) and that Bruce should be grateful for this young man's profound bravery and immense natural skill and maybe show him a few pointers or something idk we'll see :) Like let's be clear, the idea that Tim didn't want to be Robin is simply not part of this story outside of like two lines of dialogue where he's like "oh I didn't consider it could be me!" after which he immediately goes "Wow so you ARE gonna let me be Robin right?" the second he sees the opportunity. The guy essentially makes himself Robin once Dick makes it clear he isn't gonna be. Dick tells Tim nobody should be at first (until he changes his mind) but is ignored because Tim doesn't get why and goes with what he understands, his own stance.

I'm of the opinion that the whole "Tim understands that being Robin is an arduous task full of suffering from the start and chooses to bravely yet sadly martyr himself for the cause" thing I see sometimes is strongly disproven, at least in the beginning of his Robin career, by his "Batman NEEDS a Robin (to love and care for and to watch out for him in return :) )" line of reasoning, his subsequent willingness for Anybody to be Robin whether or not it was him (unless he was consciously okay with other children suffering for his benefit which I find really hard to believe,) and his active glee at anything involving being Robin and persistent smiling pursuit of Doing So against Batman's strong disapproval, because he hasn't officially said no (he did several times, but you can't blame a kid for being excited.) Like, I think he said he never dreamed of being Robin just because having a kid come in begging to replace Batman's dead son because it was a personal aspiration would be extraordinarily rude and arrogant and they wanted people to like this one. He was NOT in any way adverse they just couldn't make him THAT presumptuous, and he is by nature of what he's doing already moderately so.

But say it was true, that Tim was actively opposed to being Robin? Alfred would be pushing this shit HARD onto this thirteen year old kid like what the fuck bro. And "From what Master Richard said, he follows your orders." is HEINOUS but let's not get into that.