#black stink bug

[midgard37]

Afternoon delight

[cicada-days-of-summer]

it’s that time of year!

[pterodaustro]

found a stink beetle in my room and immediately found out it was a stink beetle due to baby kitty trying to eat it, suddenly smelling something pungent, and then baby spitting it out

[thebelmontrooster]

Wordless Wednesday: Proxys punctulatus (Black Stink Bug)

Proxys punctulatus (Black Stink Bug) on 7-24-24, #1009-6.

[invertcollection]

6/22/24

[procrastinating-falcon]

I’ve got two pots that are infested with a little black bug, and the only plant that is perfectly healthier is some weed (as in, an actual weed, not weed) that I allowed to grow out of pity

[desperate-gay]

ok… i don’t know why but i get secret relationship vibes from stina.

what if reader is new to arsenal, she transfers cause of stina, and nobody knows their dating/married… reader says her girlfriend/wife’s name is emma (which is stina’s other first name) and all the girls keep bugging reader to meet her or see her at a game. then something happens when it’s like team game night where reader slips up and calls stina ems or emma and everyone’s like 😮

Meet The Wife

Stina Blackstenius x fem!reader

summary: the girls find out your married and just need to figure out to who

“Baby, time to wake up. You have to get ready so we can get our drills in before the game.” You say softly, moving the blonde’s messy hair to the side and rubbing your thumb up and down her cheek.

“I’m too sleepy.” Your wife grumbles into the pillow, making no movement to get up. Standing up, you sigh making it sound as if you’re just going to leave her bed but her wishes are soon destroyed when you yank the covers off her body and onto the floor.

“What was that for?” Stina exclaims, now sitting up in bed with an annoyed look pointed at you.

“Good, now that you’re up you can take a shower. You stink.” You fake grimace while folding the blankets that were on the ground. Too caught up in your head, you don’t notice the tall blonde towering over you from behind. Cold hands rest themselves below your shirt, causing you to jump in place.

“Maybe you can join me in the shower, kärlek.” She suggests, nipping at the skin of your neck as you shakily continue what you’re doing, trying not to give in.

“Nope.”

“Ugh, really? You’re going to turn down sex?” The taller girl throws her head back, groaning at your denial. All she needs as an answer is the stone expression plastered on your face. Your wife sighs and walks over to the closet to pick out her outfit for the day but not without mumbling under her breath in her native tongue.

“C’mon Stinky Blackstenius.” You joke which the other girl doesn’t find as amusing. She huffs and goes into your shared bathroom, slamming the door. “Ooo Stina Black-stinky-us. Much better.” You announce over the sound of the shower starting.

“I want a divorce!”

—

“Good game out there, speedy. Glad we snatched you up before anyone else could.” Katie pats your shoulder, passing you to get to her cubby.

Your transfer was pretty sudden but long-awaited, having played for Vittsjö in Sweden. You and Stina met each other when you both debuted on the national team. It both took you a while to admit your feelings for one another, but now here you are, married for 5 years.

No one knows besides your family and a few of your national teammates who’ve accidentally caught you making out in a storage closet. It’s not that you don’t want people to know, you both just enjoy your private life with no interruptions.

“It wouldn’t have been a tough choice anyway. I’d choose Arsenal in a heartbeat.” You proclaim, stripping out of your sweaty jersey.

“Why here?” Vic asks the question everyone is secretly wondering.

“The whole spirit here, the fans, the overall club just outshines the others, and I guess the people here aren’t too bad either.” You yelp as Kyra pokes behind your knee, making your leg weaken and almost make you fall. “You’ll regret that.” You point your finger at the younger girl with a scold.

After your shower, you’re brushing through your hair and gathering everything up in your bag, getting ready to leave as soon as possible to be able to lay around and relax with your wife. Just as you’re about to sling your bag over your shoulder, a sharp gasp stops you.

“Is that a ring?” Steph shouts, grabbing all the girl’s attention. Stina watches from afar with a small smile as the team hounds you with questions.

“Since when?”

“Who’s the lucky gal?”

“You’re engaged?”

“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, I have a ring, no, I’m not engaged.” You answer to which all the girls frown. “I’m married.”

An uproar is held all around the locker room along with several more questions. You sigh with an exhausted smile and answer short questions to the best of your ability.

“Her name is Emma and we have been married for a few years. She’s the light of my life and I could never ask for a better person to wake up to in the morning and go to bed to at night.” Everyone coos at the new information, all finding out their new teammate is in love while Stina looks across the room with a love-sick smile on her face.

“Can we meet her?”

“Maybe one day.”

—

A few weeks later, the pestering never stops. Every day before a game the girls beg you to bring your wife to one so they all can meet her. You and Stina snicker over how oblivious they are to the wife being her.

It was someone else’s turn to host movie night since Beth and Viv’s place is being occupied by a very wild puppy that wouldn’t allow a quiet movie time. Stina surprisingly offered, the house being big enough and the living room having many different seating arrangements.

“Are ya comin’ to Stina’s tonight for our annual movie night?” Katie asks, watching you do your squatted reps.

“Of course. I couldn’t miss if I wanted to.” You breathe out, setting the bar in its original spot. Katie quirks her head in confusion but shakes it off, moving to start her turn. As your head flips around, you catch your wife’s gaze set on your ass with no shame. You wave your hand to wake her out of her trance which it does but also makes her flush and turn back to her workout.

As 7 pm began to approach, many of the girls began showing up, all bringing snacks and beverages. Some of them asked why you were so early, so you just made up an excuse saying Stina needed help with setting up and they all believed it.

About half an hour later, everyone is here and settled in their designated spots. You’re currently scavenging through the kitchen looking for your candy that you bought. You huff before walking over into the living room.

“Em, do you know where my candy is?”

“Em?” Alessia quips confusingly.

Leah quickly puts two and two together and jumps up to hug both of you awkwardly with Stina still sitting down on the loveseat while you’re standing.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” She asks angrily, hitting both of you on the backs of your heads.

Multiple of the girls remain confused besides Viv, Lia, Kim, and Steph who are all smiling in their spots, waiting for everyone else to figure it out.

“Can someone explain here for those of us who don’t know what you’re talking about?” Kyra groans, not liking being out of the loop.

“Our new friend here has a wife we haven’t supposedly met before and her name is Emma.” Leah tries explaining, but the girls remain silent and confused.

“Stina’s first name is Emma! She just called her Emma even though no one else does. You guys comprehend?” The English Captain rushes out, waiting for everyone’s heads to shift. Soon multiple gasps are heard and you’re both quickly crowded by everyone.

“Everyone give my lady some space.” Stina interrupts, pulling you into her lap suddenly, making you shriek. “We get this information might be a little shocking but now you know.” She shrugs, smiling lovingly at you before kissing your cheek.

“A little shocking? Maybe try something bigger than that.” Beth scoffs with her arms crossed.

Once everyone gets their questions in, you all settle on a comedy movie and cuddle into someone. You remain seated in Stina’s lap with your head rested against her shoulder. She randomly kisses any part of your skin she can reach, enjoying not having to hide as much now.

“I have a question for you.” You whisper, turning your attention to the Swede.

“And what would that be?”

“Where’s my candy?” You whine from your lack of snacks which your wife finds adorable. She reaches beside her and pulls out a familiar colored bag.

“I had it ready with me right here, älskling.” Her hand holds up the bag away from your reach just as you’re about to grab it. You huff in annoyance and slump down into your previous position. “I need a little convincing to let you have these.” Stina smirks before perking her lips.

You roll your eyes at the once-shy girl who never wanted to show affection in front of her friends. Your hand grips her jaw, angling her face so you can smash your lips against hers. She hums into the kiss and soon traces her tongue along your bottom lip, but just before anything starts, a whistle grabs your attention.

“Oi lovebirds, get a room. We don’t wanna see you two swapping saliva.”

“Kyra, that is strike two, you better start running.”

[colettebronte]

(Not Exactly) A Fairytale in New York

Taglist Form

Ao3 Link

Bridgerton Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Anthony Bridgerton x Fem Reader

Summary: While on what is meant to be a brief layover in NYC at Christmas time there is an airport meet ugly, a snowstorm and some holiday fun to be had both around the city and in the bedroom

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ specifically for explicit anal sex. Minors DNI. I will put this up on Ao3 so please do not repost my work elsewhere

Author’s Note: my deepest apologies to The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl for the alteration of their song title to fit this fic. This was a fun one to write and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you to @fayes-fics for betaing 🫶❤️

You thank the barista as he hands you your iced coffee. Taking a fortifying sip, you turn and start to walk to your boarding gate. 

You stop walking to adjust the top of your cup. You’ve just pulled it off when someone plows into you, upending the entire contents onto your face, jacket and the floor. The person, a man, grunts and then tosses off a curt “Sorry,” before walking off.

Spluttering, you turn and call out to his quickly retreating back, “Hey pal! I hope all your coffee creamers today are sour and you miss your flight!” The absolute asshole with his perfectly sexy British accent and a no-doubt stupidly expensive suit just continues his brisk walking and tosses off a wave.

Wiping your face and wringing your hands, you throw out your empty cup and debate the merits of changing before boarding your flight home. You check your phone and see you don’t have the time so with a huff and smelling like a caramel macchiato, you make your way across the airport. It’s only as you move that you realize some of it must have splashed through your boots and onto your socks, making for a soggy trudge to the gate. Gross. Welcome to New York. Thankfully, it’s just a short, hour and a half plane ride and then you’ll be home for Christmas.  

Unfortunately, Snow Storm Agatha has other plans.

**********

Defeated, you sink into a hard plastic chair. Having first joined the line at the ticket counter, where you were given airport food vouchers and no word of when flights could be rebooked, you then collected your deplaned luggage from the baggage carousel. After that, you spent the better part of an hour calling any hotel in your price range to see if they had any rooms left to no avail. So all that was left was the least appealing option; spending the night and possibly longer at LaGuardia Airport. Great.

Someone takes a seat beside you, their expensive luggage bumping against yours. You turn and see it’s the same jerk who dumped your coffee all over you. You give him the stink-eye but he’s too busy absorbed in a conversation on his phone to even notice you. You take the moment to study him. It figures that he’d have an adorable furrow between his brows and a perfect jawline to go with his thick, tuggable hair and stupidly sexy accent.

You can tell from his side of the conversation that, of course, Mr. Tall, Dark and British is able to secure a place to stay. Lucky him. You hope his hotel room has bed bugs.

He ends his call and sniffs the air, no doubt catching a whiff of the iced caramel drying on your coat. He turns and notices you for the first time, his eyes going comically wide. He takes in your overall appearance and after a moment, a look of guilt comes over his handsome face. It would probably feel satisfying if your hair wasn’t sticky.

He looks down at his black leather-gloved hands and fidgets for a moment. Heaving a deep breath he starts, “You’re the one I . . .”

“Dumped eight dollars worth of Queens’ finest bean juice all over. Yes,” you finish for him.

He winces and then goes on an impressive ramble. “I am truly sorry. I was on the phone with one of my sisters and in a rush to make it to my plane, which is no excuse I realize. I ought to have done the gentlemanly thing and, at the very least, stopped to help you clean up. Of course, had I been paying attention, it should never have happened in the first place,” he pauses to take a deep breath before adding, “How can I make it up to you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Unless you can magically conjure me a shower or, better yet, a room so I don’t have to spend the night sleeping on cheap plastic and eating bad airport food, not much.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I have just procured a suite for the night. You’re welcome to the second bedroom.”

You gape at him. ��Look, Mr . . .”

“Bridgerton,” he interjects, before adding, “Anthony.” he flashes you a charming smile that, in any other circumstance, might just sway you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you sigh, “While I appreciate the offer, I am not going with you, a complete stranger, to stay in your hotel suite, no matter how swanky it may be. For all I know, you’re a secret serial killer or something.” You cross your arms, purposely elbowing him in the side.

He raises his arms in the air, placating, “Miss, I understand you completely. I know my offer is unconventional but I truly do wish to make things up to you. Is there nothing I can do to convince you I’m safe to be around, full coffee cups aside?”

You fight a smile. Dammit this man is too smooth. With a sigh, you tell him, “I can’t think of anything, short of stellar testimony about your general character from an unimpeachable source.”

You start to stand but he touches the sleeve of your coat. Looking thoughtful, he stands and pulls out his phone. Holding it up so you can see the screen, he punches in a number and after a moment, it rings and then a yawning, elegant, older woman with the kindest blue eyes you’ve ever seen answers.

“Anthony dearest, what are you doing calling at this hour, and from the plane no less?”

He has the good grace to look abashed. “My apologies, Mother. I’m still in the airport. A rather nasty snowstorm has grounded all the flights through tomorrow.”

The woman, his mother, looks concerned. “Do you need a room for the night? I can wake Marcus up and see if he has a room at one of his New York hotels available for you.”

Anthony shakes his head. “That’s not necessary, Dorset was able to get me a room at one of his,” he pauses to glance at you. “The truth is, Mother, I need you to provide a character reference for me, to convince someone I’m not an axe-wielding maniac and that it’s perfectly safe to stay in the spare bedroom of my suite.”

His mother raises her eyebrows. “Anthony, what did you do?”

He swallows thickly and looks at you. You laugh and lean into the phone to offer her a wave. She takes in your appearance and then narrows her eyes. 

Her voice is deadly calm as she again asks, “Anthony Edmund Bridgerton. What. Did. You. Do?”

You feel a sympathetic pang at the use of his full name as he hems and haws his way through an explanation. When he finishes she heaves a sigh and then addresses you.

“My Dear, my name is Violet Bridgerton and I assure you, while my eldest son may be a tiny bit of an idiot, he is mostly a gentleman. I promise you are perfectly safe in his presence and I have no doubt,” she pauses to cut her eyes to her son, “That he will not only pay for your dry cleaning, he will buy you a very nice dinner tonight and then also see you safely back to the airport when it’s time for your flight to depart. Isn’t that right, my dear son?”

Anthony nods but at his mother’s sharp look, he clears his throat and says, “That’s right Mother, I will.”

“Excellent.” She looks back at you. “Despite the circumstances, it is lovely to meet you, Miss?”

“Y/n,” you supply. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Violet smiles warmly and then looks between you and her son, a gleam in her eye.“I wish you both a good evening.”

“Goodnight Mother,” Anthony says and then he ends the call. He puts the phone away and then looks at you and asks, “Well?”

Without hesitating, you pick up your purse and sling your carry-on bag over your shoulder. You thrust your luggage at him, the little wheels squeaking as they bump into his shiny black shoes. “Lead the way, Your Highness, I have a very expensive dinner to get to,” you say brightly.

Grabbing the handle of your luggage in addition to his own, he mutters, “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

You tug your mittens on and adjust your carry-on, asking him, “Does the hotel offer lobster and filet mignon?”

**********

You arrive at Hotel Dorset and you bound out of the town car, leaving Anthony to manage the luggage. A tall man stands just inside the entrance, a curious look on his friendly face.

“Hello Miss,” he greets you warmly.

Before you can respond, Anthony walks up and takes the man’s hand, shaking it vigorously.

“Tom, I can’t thank you enough for putting us up for the night.”

The man, Tom, nods, although he’s still looking at you. “It’s my pleasure. The city doesn’t come to a complete standstill all that often due to snow, but I’m happy to be able to help.” His eyes cut back to Anthony. “You didn’t mention you were bringing a guest with you.”

You step closer, elbowing Anthony in the ribs as you say, “Oh, he owes me. He decided it would be fun to spill iced coffee all over me this afternoon, so as penance, he’s putting me up for the night and buying me a really expensive dinner.”

Anthony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was an accident.”

Tom laughs, offering you his arm. You take it as he leads you both to the elevators, a porter following with your luggage. Once inside, your eyes widen as Tom inserts a key and the button for the penthouse lights up. Tom smiles and says, “Our restaurant has a Michelin star. The chef’s speciality is steak with lobster and caviar”

You nod, fighting a laugh as you glance at Anthony. “That sounds delicious,” you say seriously. “Do you happen to have a two-hundred-year-old wine that pairs well with that?”

Tom looks at Anthony and then clearing his throat, nods and begins to expound on the restaurant’s highly curated vintage wine list, amusement shining in his eyes as he does so.

Anthony leans his head against the gold metal wall of the elevator and groans.

**********

The penthouse is massive and after giving your coat to the porter to be dry-cleaned, with the assurance it would be ready for you in the morning, you avail yourself of the shower in your personal, full-sized bathroom.

You assume Anthony has gone to do the same in his.

After a long, heavenly jaunt under the double rainfall showerheads, you tuck yourself into one of the hotel’s fluffy robes and go back into your room to change. You’re sorting through your luggage when there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call out and then Anthony enters, also dressed in a robe, his hair damp. It takes all your willpower to focus on his eyes and not on the single curl on his forehead.

Anthony smiles and says, “I made a dinner reservation for the eight pm sitting. If you’d prefer a different time, I can change it,” he tells you.

Sighing, you say, “That’s fine. But I have a problem.”

Anthony comes over to you, concern written on his handsome face. “What can I do?”

You sink down on the bed. “I flew in from an educator’s conference. I don’t exactly have something to wear for dinner at a Michelin star restaurant.”

Anthony stands. “That’s no problem at all. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have some options brought up for you.”

You blink up at him. Stunned, you stutter out, “You can just . . . have dresses . . . brought up here . . . for me to try on?”

He nods and you can only stare at him and think about how you lead very different lives.

**********

Two hours later, you both emerge from the elevator, Anthony looking sharp in a bow tie and black dinner jacket and you in a flowy red dress, that you are positive costs more than three of your paychecks combined.

Tom personally escorts you to the restaurant and sees you to your table. Once seated, he has a bottle of wine brought over with his compliments and then leaves you and Anthony to your meal. After perusing the menu, you decide to take pity on Anthony’s wallet, despite your suspicion he can easily afford it and forgo the steak, lobster and even the caviar in favor of a burger and pomme frites instead. Surprisingly, Anthony orders the same. It turns out, the wine Tom chose pairs perfectly with your meal.

Over Michelin star burgers and fancy Belgian fries, you and Anthony get to know each other. He is as charming as you originally thought, but as you chat, you discover how utterly devoted he is to his family and the business they run together, leaving him little time for a personal life.

You’re sharing a truly excellent piece of cheesecake when a band starts to play jazzy versions of Christmas songs. You watch enviously as couples take to the floor, holding each other close. After watching for a while, Anthony stands and offers you his hand.

Exhaling a deep breath, you take it and then you’re making your way to join the other couples. You pick up the strains of “Last Christmas” as Anthony suddenly spins you out and pulls you back into his arms, his face mere inches from yours. You stare deep into his dark eyes and whisper, “Careful, Mr. Bridgerton, a girl could get ideas.”

He dips you and when he pulls you back up, his voice is rough as he asks, “You promise?”

Heat pools in your belly. But then you give yourself a mental shake. You’ve only just met this man. Flirting with strangers and then jumping into bed with them, no matter how fancy that bed may be, is not something you do.

Besides, surely the weather will clear up tomorrow and then you’ll part ways and never see each other again, so what would be the point?

**********

It’s nearly midnight by the time you return to the penthouse. Fingers entwined, you’re reluctant to part for the evening. You’re about to suggest a nightcap when both your phones ping. Anthony excuses himself as you check yours. First, you see a warning from the National Weather Service that the storm is projected to continue through the following evening. The next notification is from your airline saying all flights will remain cancelled until further notice. With a sigh, you text your sister to let her know the latest update. She immediately texts back, assuring you it’s fine and to let her know when you have a flight rebooked.

You change and are about to slip into bed when Anthony knocks on your door. You open it to find him looking unfairly handsome in red flannel pajamas, the shirt unbuttoned, exposing a thatch of hair on his chest that has you itching to run your finger through it. He stares at you, appreciation clear in his eyes.

Tearing your gaze away from his exposed skin, you ask him, “Did you need something?”

Anthony blinks and then nods, his eyes looking into yours. “It seems we’ll be here for at least another day. Tom said we’re welcome to stay as long as we need.”

You smile. “That’s very kind of him.”

Anthony smiles back and says, “Since we’re here for another day, I was wondering if you wanted to play tourist with me? I was meant to just be here while my plane refueled and haven’t had a chance to see the sights.”

You reach out and take one of his hands in yours. “I’d like that,” you tell him softly.  “I was only meant to have a forty-minute layover.”

Anthony squeezes your fingers. Just as quietly, he says, “It’s settled then. We'll have breakfast and then set out to see just what New York City has to offer.”

“It’s a date, Mr. Bridgerton,” you reply.

********

You spend the morning zig-zagging across the city, taking in the sights and sounds of New York City at Christmas time with the falling snow just adding to the ambiance of the season.

For lunch, you stop at the Winter Village in Bryant Park. You each choose your meals from different food trucks and then sit together in a heated bubble, watching shoppers scurry around the park doing their last-minute shopping at the vendor stalls. If Anthony sits a little closer at your side than necessary, you don’t comment on it.

After lunch, you walk to Rockefeller Plaza and cajole Anthony into ice skating with you.

“It’s so ridiculously touristy,” he protests as you lead him by the hand to the skate rental.

Laughing, you ask, “I’m sorry, Mr. Bridgerton, but who suggested we play tourist?”

“Me,” he mumbles and then adds, “I don’t know how to ice skate.”

You squeeze his hand in what you hope is a reassuring manner. Brightly, you say, “Don’t worry, it’s just like roller-skating only with a blade stuck to your feet instead of wheels.”

Anthony hands his credit card to the attendant and as you take your ice skates from them, Anthony asks you, “Is now a bad time to mention that I don’t know how to roller skate either?”

You stare at him for a moment and then wave his words off. “You’ll be fine. Probably.”

Anthony doesn’t look convinced, so you point to a child holding onto a blue plastic Skate Helper as they wind around the rink. “Maybe we can find one for you in adult size.”

Sadly, you cannot, so Anthony settles for clinging to the wall like a limpet while you fly around the rink, moving from one foot to the other with ease, your childhood skate lessons coming back to you, despite it being several years since you’ve been on the ice.

After a while, you take pity and go over to Anthony, coming to an elegant T-stop in front of him. Silently, you hold your hands out and after reluctantly releasing the wall, he wobbles towards you, grasping onto your shoulders as soon as he’s within reach. You adjust your body to counterbalance his shakiness and taking his hands with a reassuring smile, you slowly pull him around the rink.

You can see the exact moment he gets over his nerves and trusts you to keep you both upright as he looks around and takes in the sights around you. By the time you finish skating, dusk is starting to fall. You return your skates and Anthony buys you both hot cocoa. Tucked into his side, you walk up to the top of the plaza to get an unobstructed view of the famous Christmas tree. 

After staring at the tree for a while, you look up at Anthony to see him watching you and not the glowing sight before you. The obvious desire in his eyes brings a pleasant warmth to your core. Without thinking, you tug him down and draw him into an embrace. You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment and then his mouth is on yours, his tongue gently moving against the seam of your lips, as if asking permission to enter. With a sigh, you let him and then he is pressing you against the gray marble of the wall as he whines into your mouth.

Someone walks by and calls out, “Hey! Get a room!”

You pull apart, both of you breathing heavily. Anthony tucks a stray lock of your hair under your hat, a tender look in his eyes. You take one of his gloved hands in your mitten-covered one. Deciding not to mince words you tell him, “Take me back to our room so we can fuck.” 

His eyes darken, and he nods, tugging you in the direction of the hotel.

**********

The ride up in the elevator feels interminable but as it opens with a ding, Anthony pulls out the penthouse key and after a brief fumble, manages to get the door unlocked. As soon as he enters, you lean into him and undo the buttons of his coat, tugging his beanie off his head as he pulls off his gloves with his teeth. As he reaches out to undo your jacket, you take a moment to admire his snow-dampened hair and impossibly soft white sweater.

Once you’re both freed of your outerwear, you jump up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. Placing his arms around your back, he moans against your lips as he walks to his bedroom. 

With him holding you, you pull your sweater over your head and toss it behind you. Using one hand, Anthony deftly unhooks your bra. He bumps against the bed and then you hop down to paw at his sweater until he takes it off, throwing it over your head to join your discarded clothes on the floor.

Keeping your eyes firmly on him, you bend down to take off your boots, pants, socks and panties. Anthony does the same with his remaining clothes and underwear, his eyes not leaving yours either. After a moment though, he turns away to one of the nightstands and pulls out a condom. Biting back a smile, you raise an eyebrow and Anthony shrugs, saying, “I wasn’t expecting anything but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hopeful after our dance last night.”

You nod and then he rolls the condom on. You then descend on Anthony, pushing him gently back so he lands on the bed. You climb over his legs to straddle him and then he lets out the most beautiful moan as you grind down on his cock.

“Please . . . please ride me,” he stutters from under you. You tug him up into a bruising kiss by the hair and he starts to wrap his arms around your back but you grab his hands, lacing your fingers together, holding them over his head as you begin to slide back and forth on his lap.

You find an angle that feels good, pausing for a moment to enjoy the stretch and feel of him inside you. Anthony groans and then you move together, building a rhythm with ease. You do most of the work, drawing out both your pleasure by turns alternating going fast and then maddeningly slow. By the time you’re close, you’re both slick with sweat, Anthony’s breaths coming in little whining gasps.

“Please, I need... I need,” he begs.

You lean down to kiss his neck, your body feels taut and poised to tip over the edge with pleasure.  You lean in to whisper into his ear, “Shhh, I know. I’m ready for it too. Shall we come together?”

Anthony nods and then you’re thrusting in tandem, both working towards the same goal. White, hot, delicious pleasure overtakes your senses and hands still entwined, you throw your head back and scream. Barely a breath later, Anthony yells out your name and you have to fight to keep yourself balanced on his lap as he bucks against you in ecstasy.

**********

Later, after a shower and room service dinner, your head is resting against Anthony’s chest, tucked under the covers and you’re feeling pleasantly warm and boneless when both your phones ding on the nightstands beside you. You whine and reach out of your blanket cocoon to take your phone as Anthony does the same with his. Blinking, you stare in surprise to see that it’s a message from the airline with information on rebooking your flight for the next day. You glance over to see Anthony glaring down at his phone, no doubt having just received the same message from his airline.

He looks up from his phone to gaze at you, the annoyance instantly disappearing from his handsome face. Sighing, he gestures to his phone and says, “It seems Agatha has been downgraded and flights will resume tomorrow. We can both go home.”

You nod. Just a day earlier, face covered in coffee, going home was all you wanted. And now, well, now it’s different. Anthony tucks in close to you and plucks your phone out of your hand. He pulls you back onto his chest, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. 

Quietly, he asks you, “Will you let me handle the details of your flight home?”

You sigh, “You’ve done so much for me already, I can’t ask that of you.”

Anthony shushes you with a gentle kiss. When he pulls back his eyes are full of tenderness as he says, “I’m offering. Please let me do this. Think of it as a continuation of how gentlemanly my mother promised you I’d be.”

You lift your head to huff out a laugh. “Oh and was that gentlemanly behavior earlier tonight?”

Anthony flashes you a wry smile. “Absolutely. Ladies always come first.”

Shaking your head with a giggle, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then lay your head back down, yawning as he reaches out and turns off the lamp.

**********

The air is crisp and clear as you exit the hotel hand in hand with Anthony. Once your luggage is loaded into the town car, he holds the door open for you and then slides in, directing the driver to Hangar Seven. Having only flown into La Guardia a few times, you’re not certain where that is but you trust Anthony to get you where you need to go.

Soon enough, you’re at the airport and your brow furrows as you drive past most of the terminals, including the one you know your airline is at. The car pulls into a small lot and then after tipping your driver, Anthony gets out and then comes around to your side to help you out of the car. Taking you by the hand, he leads you into a building. Before you can ask him about your luggage and how you’re meant to get through security, you’re walking into what you realize is an actual airplane hanger and then you can only stare at the private jet emblazoned with Anthony’s last name on the side.

You freeze in place and Anthony is jolted back by the hand. He tries to gently tug you forward but you remain fixed in place, looking back and forth between the jet and the man who apparently owns it.

Anthony stops trying to walk and tucks into your side.

Taking a deep breath you say, “Two days ago, you told me you were waiting for your plane to refuel, you actually meant your personal plane, not a passenger plane.”

Anthony leans down and says quietly, “Technically, it is a passenger plane. I just happen to be the only one on it.”

Releasing his hand you step back from him. “I knew you had money,” you start, “Which of course I don’t hold against you, but what exactly is your family business, Mr. Bridgerton?”

Anthony glances at the plane for a moment and then looks back to you. “The plain truth is, I’m not strictly Mr. Bridgerton. That title is for my younger brothers,” he winces as he continues, “I’m actually Lord Bridgerton.”

You gape at him and squeak, “Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony nods and squeezes his hands together, looking nervous. “Please don’t say this changes things between us.”

You take a deep breath and stare at him for a moment. He is Anthony, the man who you thought was initially a jerk but turned out to be something else altogether: a gentleman, a man devoted to his family, the man who went above and beyond to apologize for his bad behavior and the man who after only a little hesitation, was willing to try something new at the skating rink. He’s also the man who gave you one of the best orgasms of your life. Even now, he’s staring at you with such hope in his eyes that it’s easy to come to a decision.

You reach up and tug him into a heated kiss. When you at last break apart, you tell him, “Lord Bridgerton, please take me home.”

**********

You’re up far too early Christmas morning at your sister’s house watching your nephew unwrap yet another Lego set when your phone buzzes. With a smile, you read the text.

AB: I don’t suppose you have any plans for New Year’s Eve

Y/n: Not yet. What did you have in mind Lord Bridgerton?

AB: If someone were to send a plane for you, would you consider ringing in the new year across the pond?

Y/n: If that plane includes a very handsome viscount, I’d consider it.

AB: Noted. I’ll see you in six days

AB: And I’ll bring the iced macchiato this time and you can dump it on me

Y/n: My Lord, you’re a little weird but I’m falling in love with you anyway

AB: . . . .

Y/n: I mean

AB: I’m falling in love with you too. Happy Christmas

Y/n: Merry Christmas. I’ll see you next week

taglist: @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @faye-tale @cosmiclove330 @abridgerton @fiction-is-life @kmc1989 @alexandrainlove @ietss @multi-fandom-lover7667 @turtle-cant-communicate @liliac-dreamer @hottytoddyhistory @laniec03 @queenofmean14 @jtheteenagewitch

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when you're desperate for a quick shower, the last thing you expected was for it to last this too long, or for you to be accompained by a boy.

word count: 4,6k warnings: shower sex, oral sex (m receiving), handjob, language

a/n: it's 4am and I need to wake up for work at 6am, but I promised myself i'd finish it today (or yesterday) and so i did. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. hope you enjoy, much love ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Throbbing pain consumed your frontal lobe

It was way past the usual time practice ended. Way past. All your teammates stood around the coach for a prolonged scolding session after the team had lost the past two matches in a not so nice —extremely bad—, manner.

The season had barely started and you could see in everyone’s eyes they were all already exhausted. And so were you.

Your legs burnt from all the exercise, feeling like your muscles were about to rip open at any moment. Your scalp itched, as the sweat settled on your hair, leaving it oily and stinky. Gosh, you needed a shower.

Time did not seem to pass. No, the coach did not seem to ever want to stop talking.

Taking a glimpse to your right, you catch sight of your best friend impatiently standing on the bleaches. One of her legs shaking and her arms crossed on her chest. “Shit” you whispered to yourself, as you knew another scolding was doomed the minute you stepped out of the court.

You didn’t know why you’d agreed to attend Johnson’s party with her. You’re upset over the team's recent performances, crowded with school work, and your parents had been bugging you about their holiday plans all week. Clear to say, your head was too full to attend a party tonight, and you were solely going for the unquestionable loyalty you had towards your friends.

Nessie had been annyong you the entire month about this party. Johnson was this frat guy she shared a few classes with, and she had been drooling over him since the semester started. So when he personally invited her to tonight’s party, it became the only thing she talked about for weeks and sealed the next steps into her imaginary relationship with the guy.

When the coach finally decided that he had enough of calling you all shitty athletes and dismissed you for the day, a swarm of players desperately headed out to the changing rooms in hopes of a well deserved shower. 

You, on the other hand, were stopped in your way by your friend, who had rushed towards you as soon as she heard the coach say “See you tomorrow”.

“Let’s go?” she pouted, making you roll your eyes at her very evident desperation.

“I just need to take a shower.” you bemoaned, feeling disgusted by the sweat and the sticky sensation all over your body. You had been practicing for hours, rolling on the floor, running around. You just wanted to get rid of all traces of sweat and dirt from your body. Her pout, however, only grew larger. “Do you really want me to show up all stinky to this party?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really want to show up at all. But you had promised, and your damned loyalty wouldn’t allow you to back off now. She wanted you to go, or more so need you there for moral support, either if he came onto her and she didn’t know what to do, or the unspoken possibilities of him ignoring her or finding him with someone else.

“You do stink a little. Please, be quick” she moaned, hands together in a praying position, and you gave her an amused smile and a push towards the side, clearing your way out of where you stood. 

Following in the direction the hoard of girls had just walked through, you jogged your way to the locker room in hopes of finally taking that well deserved shower. However, you hadn’t counted on the handball team also practicing till the late hours of the night, and now the locker room looked more like an electronics store on black friday than an university bathroom.

Each and everyone of the shower cabins were full, and ladies lined outside its doors waiting for the moment they’d be free. It would take you a lot longer than you had imagined, and you could already feel your best friend fuming outside if you had to make her wait any longer than you had promised. 

Grabbing your bags, you walked out and in her direction. “Let’s go. I’ll change in your car.”

“But you haven’t showered?” she inquired.

“We’re never gonna make it in time. Locker rooms are full.” you stated, taking her hand and trying to walk away, to which she held her ground and refused to move.

“You’re not going like this,” her features softened, and she looked at you with kindness in her eyes. “You want to shower, so go.” she ordered, arms crossing over the deep cleavage of her bright red top, in sort of a motherly way. “I’ll wait.”

“Johnson is waiting for you” you tried to persuade, but she shook her head again.

“Party is not ending anytime soon. And looking on the brighter side, we’ll get him thinking of me all the time, wondering if we’re coming or not, you know.”

You gave her a smile, admiring how her little mind worked. Fixing the bag on your shoulder, you turned to go inside the room you once were, but seeing girls hanging around the entrance made you give up instantly. “But, there’s so many people. We could go home and shower there in the same amount of time.”

“And cross the city twice?” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Isn’t there another place you can shower?”

“There’s the boys locker room.” you remembered.

“Are there any boys’ sports teams practicing today?”

“Not that I remember.” And holding your hand, she dragged you around the corridors towards the boys’ locker room. 

The two of you sneaked around every corner, checking to see if anyone was around. Failing to meet anybody, you arrived at the room in no time. It was empty and you could hear your lone footsteps echoing on the gray walls.

“This smells so much of testosterone.” Nessie noted, looking around the room like a little kid in Disneyland, but face scrunched in disgust.

“It’s the boy’s locker room, Nessie. Of course it’d smell like that.” you laughed, stacking your clothes and a towel over the door of the stall you had chosen to shower in, on the far corner of the locker room. When you fish for your shampoo and conditioner from inside your bag, however, you’re met with the complete absence of both. “Nessie…?” you called, hearing a hum in response. “I forgot my shampoo and conditioner.”

“Are you serious!?” she screamed, and not daring to look at the side to see her, you could picture her standing there with her arms on her waist, and the biggest annoyed expression on her face. “I have some in the car, just wait right there.” she sighted, immediately running past you on her way to the door.

“It’s not like I can’t go anywhere.” you tried to lighten the mood as you heard her footsteps leaving your earshot. “Oh! And get me soap too! Nessie, I love you!”

You watched her disappear through the large double doors leading to the corridors, the rapid sounds of her footsteps bouncing off the walls and into your ears, a big contrast to the otherwise silent room you were left in once she was gone from earshot.

A deep exhale left your lungs. The silence and emptiness, somehow, a much more comfortable ambience. Still wrapped around a towel, you grabbed your bag from where it stood on one of the benches, leaving the locker area and making way to an empty shower stall. 

Gladly, the university opted out of open showers and gave students individual stalls instead, thankful for the privacy and the chance to feel a bit like home while getting cleaned. Entering through the grey door, you lay your bag on a small shelf and hang your towel on a hook beside it. The humidity already making your skin sticky.

The warm water falling on your body feels like a pain reliever, as your muscles immediately relax and the temperature helps in keeping you cozy. Breathy, tired moans escaped your lips while you enjoyed the sensation, entering a bubble of solitude, warmth and peace.

With your eyes closed as you let water fall down your face, you almost didn’t notice the sounds around you. Your head was far away from that bathroom, thinking of a place where mean spirited, annoying coaches and teammates that loved to complain about your smallest mistakes did not exist, but the far sound of engines losing power broke you from dreamland.

Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you feel a pit form in your stomach and your heart skipped out of beat. It wasn’t like you were scared of the dark, but the thought of being alone in the dark exactly where you were, sure made you a tidy bit nervous.

Grabbing your towel from the hook, you loosely wrapped it around yourself. “Hello?” you called out, in hopes your friend would have already returned, but the echoing of your voice through the room was enough of a response: you were indeed alone. “Hello?” you called once more, head peeking out of the shower box to find nothing but darkness.

Stepping outside, your wet feet met the cold stone floors, leaving behind puddles as you ventured your way into the darkness. The sound of dripping water adding to the tension and the weird feeling you got on the base of your stomach. Shit. This could not get any worse.

A soft, barely audible, screech sounded from right in front of you, making you freeze in place. Your breath heavied, and you tried to focus on hearing every sound in that room, fight or flight instincts ready to act, only catching the sound of more dripping water from the same direction of the screeching sound.

The locker area seemed to be even darker than the space you were before. Extending your hands to guide you through the dimness, you finally felt the wooden touch of the lockers as you slowly turned the corner into the empty area.

However, arms still extended in front of you, you suddenly hit something standing in your way… It wasn’t hard like the concrete pillars or the wood of the lockers, it was rather soft, smooth, cold and slightly wet. Sliding your hand over it, you suddenly found a crack and… 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” you screamed, stepping back swiftly and hitting your back against something hard, losing balance and falling ass first onto the floor. “Ugh”

“Are you alright?” you heard a deep masculine voice fill the room from where your arms had just reached, but you were too scared out of your mind to form any sort of coherent answer. If your scream a few moments earlier didn’t give away that you were not a boy, you wouldn’t be giving him anymore hints you were not the kind meant to be using this room. “Hello? Are you dead?” he called out one more time.

“No!” you replied and immediately covered your mouth. But what the hell kind of question was that?

“Good, I wouldn’t want someone’s cause of death to be touching my butt.”

For that, you were thankful all you could see was black, as whoever it was would not see your cheeks turning redder than they’d ever been. And then you realized, upon feeling the sticky coldness of the tiles on your butt, that you were ass naked on the floor. But not only ass naked, full naked, as your towel had fallen somewhere after your scare.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. “If you don’t know, I’m extending my hand to help you up.”

Closing your eyes shut, you mentally slapped yourself for getting into this situation, and mentally punched your friend for convincing you to get there in the first place. 

Making sure to avoid his stretched arms, you pushed yourself forward on your knees, failing to stand up on the wet puddle you’d formed on the floor.

As if the universe was conspiring against you, though, the lights suddenly were turned on, and when you looked up, you were face to “face” with a large bulk hidden under a white towel. Looking further up, you met with deep blue eyes that made you lose balance once more.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” he questioned, one eyebrow popping up. But you never got a chance to reply, as both your eyes shifted to the coming sound from out the door. 

Multiple voices screaming out incoherent words you were too nervous to decipher. “Oh shit.” you heard from above your head, and suddenly felt a hold on your upper arm, as the floor quickly moved further from you. “Here, take this.” the boy handed you his towel, exposing himself while he desperately dragged you from your frozen position.

Shoving you inside your shower booth, he disappeared for a second before joining you inside.

“What are you doing?” you asked exasperated, holding both your towel and your eyes for dear life.

“Saving your ass?” he replied, pushing your head down so you were sitting on the floor once more. “Get low or they’ll see you.”

The voices only got louder, as what you now suspected were the basketball team joined you in the changing rooms.

“Can’t you guys have the decency of not throwing your towels on the floor?” you heard someone scream from outside, finding out where your towel had made it to after slipping away from your grip.

A soft chuckle grabbed your attention, and you looked up from your place in the corner of the booth to find the boy who had just saved you from total embarrassment with a huge smirk glued on his lips.

“What are you laughing at?” you mouthed.

“You.” he mouthed back, dramatically accentuating his lip movements while pointing his finger at you as you only pouted in return. Throwing his head back in a silent laugh, you stopped to notice the white strand of hair bouncing along his head movements and hanging on his wet forehead. “What are you doing in the boys locker room anyways?”

“It thought it was empty.” you answered sharply, trying to speak as low as you could, but the boy grew his eyes at you, placing a finger on his lips to shut you up.

A shadow appeared from beneath the door, and soon someone tried to open the door to your stall. Freaked out, you instinctively hid further into your corner, while the boy rushed to hold the door closed.

“Kinda busy, mate.” he warned, resting his body weight on the door.

“Wha... Who is it?” asked the voice from outside.

“It’s Jason Todd. From weightlifting?” 

Upon finally knowing the name of today’s savior, you tried to scan your memory to find any recollection of that name, perhaps hearing that it once, but Jason Todd was total news to you, not so much his naked body standing right in front of you.

“Jay! Did not see you come in!” the boy from outside exclaimed.

“Mikey, hey!” Jason replied awkwardly. “Yeah, hmm… I was here before you guys arrived.”

“In the darkness?” the voice pitch got higher.

“Vibes and shit.” he told, looking at you to find your wide eyes and a look that said what the fuck more than words itself could. “Kinda liked it.” he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Alright, man. Nice shower.” As Jason thanked the guy, Mikey, in return, you watched as the shadow dissipated into the noisy room outside your door. Exhaling a deep breath you didn’t notice you were holding, you allowed relief to consume your body for a brief second.

Jason seemed to relax too, as you watched his shoulder fall down as he turned back in your direction, turning on the shower and getting under the water.

You wanted to complain. You really did, as your towel grew wetter by the second. But finally paying attention to his hanging penis just inches from you took out of your courage to say anything back at him.

To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Your face must have looked bright red, like a firemen’s truck, because god damn it, there was a naked man showering right beside you.

Holding your towel, now soaked in water, tighter to your chest, you promised yourself not to look, not to glimpse, not even peek at your side for as long as this torturous experience had to last. You knew soon Nessie would come back, and she would find a way to get you out of there. Or so you wished.

When a drop of white foam fell on your cheek, the strong smell of coconut filled your nostrils, forcing you to look up in exasperation. ”Are you fucking for real?!” you whisper-screamed, as you watched him wash the shampoo off his hair.

“Might as well make the most out of this situation.” he simply shrugged, leaving wide eyed and angry.

Shaking your head, you first caught a glimpse of that same colored water falling down his extremely toned calves, and followed their way up to where his legs met his torso, then the well molded line that led to his groin.

Your eyes fell once more, this time for longer, on his member, thick, flaccid but already extensive, and you swore your mouth watered. Swallowing dry, you daren't look up any further, promising yourself to keep your eyes glued at the door. But a scoff brought your attention higher up.

Jason’s eyes held yours for what felt like minutes, darked than you remembered, as his face was decorated with a devilish smirk that had your core feeling… things. He looked at you from under his lashes, trapping you, holding you down without even touching your body. Then, he shifted on his feet, moving his body just slightly in your direction.

You knew what he wanted. You also knew what you wanted, too. 

Biting your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself and your thoughts, you wondered if that would even be a good idea. But you were already fucked anyways, might as well make the expression a reality.

With one more look at the gray door, you hoped, prayed, it kept you safe. Looking up to meet Jason’s darkened eyes, you made sure to hold your gaze on his, looking at him with feigned innocence, with dirt filled intentions, and an almost impatient hunger. 

Letting your towel go from your hold, you get on your knees in front of him, not yet letting his eyes go.

He was not smiling anymore, eyes seemingly drowsy from just looking at yours, mouth almost hanging open, saved by the small part of his brain holding him together. And then your eyes dropped.

You noticed his dick had hardened a bit, just from looking at you, on your knees, ready to submit to him in the dirtiest place he could ever (or never) have imagined. Your breath was heavy, leaving your nose right into his member and teasing him even more.

You licked him, from the tip to the base, eyes trapped on his face and the way it contorted, head hanging back and lips trapped between his teeth. Taking a hold of him from the base, you moved your hand up and down his length, prepping him up, feeling the hardness forming in your palms before going in with your mouth.

His size quickly filled your cheeks, as you pushed him deep into your throat. He moaned loud, and your eyes warningly flashed up to meet his again, telling him to keep quiet just like he did with you before. You let him calm down before moving your head again, up and down his length, hands assisting on the parts that you couldn’t fill in your mouth.

He couldn’t moan, but his body was giving you the right answers to your touch, shaking feverishly, as you sucked him, licked him, devoured him. Oftentimes, you would feel his tip reaching your throat, making you gag and his body jolt from the sensation.

His hands wrapped around your hair, pushing you deeper, harder, as you had to let go of his member to keep yourself steady, holding his tights for support. He was fucking your throat like there was no tomorrow, your tears mixing with the water falling on your head, his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, and soon you felt the bitter taste of him release hitting your tongue.

Swallowing all, you still hang your tongue out, waiting, begging for more, but he chose to paint your breast with the last few bits of his cum, reaching his hands to massage it all over, holding and picking at your nipple while doing so, the sensation already driving you wild.

Grabbing you by the arm, he pulled you up to your feet, mouth going straight to you boobs, licking his own cum off it, sucking and biting your nipples, drawing breathy moans from deep within your throat. His mouth engulfed your entire boob, or it felt like so, as your head rolled back and he had to hold your hips so you wouldn’t fall.

Pinning you against the wall, he licked his way up your breast to your mouth, tongue going in first and trapping you in a wet, desperate kiss, as you moaned against his lips. Going their way up from your hips, making sure to explore every bit of skin, every curve on your body, his hands came to rest on your neck.

At first, delicately holding your chin up, as he continued to make out with you, sucking your tongue, leaving you breathless. Then, choking you tight while his other played with your clit.

Your body squirmed, jolted, lost all control under his touch. Looking at you through his deep blue eyes, he smirked at you, drowned in ecstasy, in pleasure he was giving you. Inserting two fingers, he moved them quickly inside of you, gluing his mouth on your again before any noise could come out of it.

Quickly, you hit your high and came all over his fingers, as he continued to finger you through it all, slowing down just a little bit at a time.

Letting you ride out your high, he watched you carefully, the hand leaving your neck to hold you by the hips. Lifting his hand up to his lips, he licked them off your orgasm, going back to wet his fingers again, this time placing them on your lips. You sucked them off just like he had done before, and he groaned right before your face.

Pulling your legs around his hips, Jason looked back over his shoulder, staring at the door making sure it was still closed, before looking at you, hand moving up and down his member. He stared at you, eyes meeting each other for the billionth time, and he nodded, asking for permission.

You gave him your dirtiest smirk, arching your back to meet his groin with your pussy and he quickly inserted his tip in you. Slowing, as if trying to drive you crazy, he pushed inside. Once he was fully in, you could feel your walls stretching, trying to fit him all, getting used to the thickness. It hurt a bit, having grown unused to the sensation since the last time you had sex, but he was sweet, kissing you slowly till you gave him any indication to continue.

Wrapping your arms over his shoulder, you pulled him closer, speeding up your kiss and moving your hips around his cock. He let you lead the moment for as long as you could, assisting in holding you up, but when he felt your movements weakening he held you harder against the wall as he thrusted deep inside you.

You were glad for the water, and the many boys screaming and making noises outside, that your own sounds were ignored by everyone else but you two.

Jason’s fingers were printed on where he held you up, still sucking your tongue, as your hands marked his back in what you wish was forever.

His thrusts grew faster, needier, and he struggled to keep quiet. It didn’t take long till he creamed your walls, biting your lip to hold his moan. You felt the silvery taste of blood, but you didn’t want him to stop. And so he didn’t, searching for your release through sloppy thrust and a finger rubbing at your clit.

“J-jay… I’m gonna cum.” you desperately said, begging him for help in not screaming your high out to the entire locker room to hear. Licking and sucking at your throat, he had to quickly move back up and land his lips on yours, as you came all over his dick.

You two kissed for a while longer, bodies weak but a hunger to continue for even longer. 

He let legs fall back to the floor with care, caressing the spot where his fingerprints were printed on. It was gonna be purple by the morning, but you didn’t care at all. 

When his lips left yours, he let out a chuckle, enjoying every second of your neediness. Jason was going down, kissing the base of you torso, when a loud scream came from outside, stealing your attention from his warm lips.

“OH MY GOD, THERE’S AN NBA PLAYER AT THE FRONT OF THE COMPLEX?!” screamed a female voice, as like kids running after the ice cream truck, you heard footsteps, doors banging and questions of “who?” and “where?” being throwing around.

You pushed Jason aside, recognizing that scream even with a misty head. “Y/n?” you heard Nessie call. “Y/n, please tell me you’re alive!”

“Nessie, I’m here.” you replied, hearing she thank God and another 10 different entities altogether.

“Let’s go, before they realize no NBA player would find themselves in this hell hole.”

Turning back, you bumped into Jason’s chest, who wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Wouldn’t she let us finish?” he begged, mouth traveling above yours.

“Jay” you tried to form anything, any sentence, but his presence, his existence, making you drowsy. “I can’t risk it. I need to go.”

He couldn’t let you, crashing your lips once, twice, three times, before you had to push him away, with not much success.

“I’ll be here every practice, every…”

“Volleyball practice?” you completed, arching your eyebrows.

“Yeah, every fucking volleyball practice.” he said between kissing and marking your neck. “Waiting for you, in the ladies bathroom if you want.”

You gave him a chuckle, trying to untangle him from your body, although you desperately wanted to stay. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” His head bobbed up, looking sad all of a sudden. “You can meet anywhere else that you want, but let’s leave locker rooms behind.”

“I’ll hold you on that promise.” he said, eyebrowns up challengely. “Y/n.”

Your head rolled back at the mere way he pronounced your name, almost failing to leave, almost dropping yourself in his arms again, when Nessie called you once again.

“I need to go.” you told him, grabbing your bag and the rest of your stuff from the shelf.

“Y/n.” Jason called.

“Jay, I’m serious” you moaned, not holding your beaming smile.

“Y/n.” he repeated, as you opened the stall door.

“Ja…” 

“Your towel.” he interrupted, holding you your damped towel as you noticed you didn’t have anything covering your body.

Taking it from his hands and wrapping them around your body, you didn’t even seem to notice its wetness, and neither did Jason, you two still immersed in the early moments to care about anything else.

“Thank you.” you whispered, running as fast as you could while leaving a pool of water on your way out.

“You’re soaking the floor!” Nessie pointed, pulling your hand as you ran in the opposite direction you had come from.

“Oh Nessie, this is the last thing you want me to talk about right now.”

[bowandcurtsey]

when y/n's ex appears Pt 1.

BC boys: Yuno | Zora | Luck [Part 1]

JJK: Sukuna | Gojo [Part 2]

Haikyuu: Kuroo | Nishinoya | Sakusa [Part 3]

x f! reader

This is gonna be a 3 part series because there's a lot of characters and the tags are gonna be so long so I just decided to put them into 3 parts in the end. Enjoy!!

Yuno Grinberryall

{So your ex shows up at the golden dawn base to ask you for help with his parents. And although reluctantly, you agreed to help a little because his parents treated you so well when you both were together.}

Yuno is extremely quiet all of a sudden. Eerily quiet. Plotting-someone's-death kinda quiet.

It was obvious the scumbag could settle his family shit on his own but he's just pulling on loose strings trying to get you back.

How could he ever hold a candle to Yuno? Yuno was a humble man but even he himself knew it; your ex could never compare to him.

But there was an eenie weeny part of him that asked: what if?

What if as you spent time together again and with his parents, you miss the old times? Or you realised he's not that bad after all? or worst, fall in love with him again?

When you came home, he'd still didn't talk much. he didn't know what to say either. He didn't want to ask how was your day because he doesn't want to know how you spent it with him.

He didn't want to ask why do you even do all these because he doesn't want to make you feel bad. he knew you did it because you were kind and you don't forget people that were once kind to you.

He loved you for you, so instead, he chose to keep quiet and pull you closer whenever you came home, hugging you close to his chest, nuzzling into your hair, to remind him that you're his. All his.

At some point you know you're hurting his feelings by being close with your ex again, so you reassure him again and again, that once the matter is resolved, you'll cut all contact with your ex.

Just add some cheesy, mushy compliment and Prince Yuno will be all blushing and feeling good again.

Zora Ideale

{Your ex came to the black bulls base, running away from some perpetrators, begging for protection and a place to hide at for awhile. He said he's do anything and he could do cleaning and odd jobs for free. Of course your captain Yami wasn't gonna give up on a free errand boy. Besides, it was only temporary.}

This man was salty af. He would side eye him, stare him down, prank him ALL THE TIME.

Your ex would get a stink bug multiple times a day at random places. Like his pockets, his shoes, his hair even.

Zora was extra snappy with your ex. He would nitpick even on the smallest things.

"It's "you are". not "your". dimwit."

Or he was extremely mean to him.

"You missed a spot here. can't even clean properly."

If you ever told Zora to "be nice" or anything along the line, he'd get upset. He'll give you the look and he'll roll his eyes a little.

Man simply does not care about your ex's feelings or whatsoever. In his eyes, your ex was a low-life for ever hurting you before and he hated the fact that he's now trying to squeeze his way into your life again.

Cue the extreme display for public affections. *Jeng Jeng Jeng*

He'll put his hands around your waist, on your ass, on your shoulders, in your hair, on your thighs. More often than normal.

If you thought that Zora has never cared before this, you're wrong. Now he's even more shameless. He could pull you in for a kiss just in front of your ex's face if he thinks that he's checking you out. (he barely took a glance). And he's always lying on your lap if you're sitting in the shared living room.

Zora never used to care about what you wore in the past. But now, you're not allowed to wear shorts or skirts above the knee. You're also not allowed to wear sleeveless clothes.

If you argue, he'd say: "well, you're the one that wanted to let that leacher in, so dress up unless I'll kick him out and you can be naked for all I care."

Behind closed doors, he's become more of the big spoon. Usually he's also happy being caressed in your arms, but during the period that your ex was here, he always held you firmly in his arms as he slept.

Luck Voltia

{well, you bumped into him when the bulls were on a mission. It had been awhile since you guys talked, so your ex was really keen in catching up. He comes to look for you at every chance he got - during patrol duties, during events, during your off days. Somehow he's appear.}

Luck was initially friendly to him. Asking him if he wanted to spar. Even when he introduced himself as your ex, Luck simple introduced himself as your boyfriend, proudly. He did not even batter an eyelid when your ex said that you used to date.

Your ex tried to spar with Luck but of course Luck would beat him hands down. Your ex tried multiple of times for the first few times they met. But he ended up just embarrassing himself, and Luck would always laugh.

Of course your ex being the stingy and petty person he was, he took it to heart and tried to complain about Luck to the Magic Parliament about a Magic Knight injuring a civilian.

Well, he obviously did not win because he then angered Captain Yami because Yami had to waste his time on a minor issue.

Luck finally understood what your ex was getting at and he then showed no mercy to your ex.

"so... you complaint that I injured you on purpose? Maybe let me show you what is on purpose..." he had a smile on his face when he said it, and it was hella scary.

Luck was on his tail for a good month, teasing him, pranking on him, chasing after him EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Luck was so fast, you didn't even know what happened but in the blink of an eye, your ex was sprawled on the floor. If your ex was headed somewhere, you bet Luck would bring him all the way back to the start point just as he was about to reach his destination.

Whatever your ex touched, was leave a static shock and Luck would just laugh. Your ex could never even find any evidence of Luck playing him or even touching him.

It went on until your ex had to kneel in front of Luck, begging him to stop, "I will never appear in front of you or y/n again, so please leave me off the hook!"

That night, Luck asked you if you would be sad to never see your ex again. "I'm sorry if I went too far this time round..."

But of course you reassured him that you have not seen your ex in ages and of course you would never mind not ever seeing him again.

And Luck was back to his jovial self.

[cornerstoreclown]

May I like, request a blurb or something that’s describing a moment between art and reader in the little childhood friends au the other anons were talking about 👉👈 Can be anything! Maybe it’s just them reminiscing about their past. It’s up to you

Sure, I can build off of this one! Gender neutral reader x Art, childhood friends au. Since this seems to be a popular one among y’all which has shocked me. Not proofread because it’s 12am and I gotta be in an office tomorrow.

—————————

After dessert, that night you and Art spent hours going through that scrapbook he’d thumbed through earlier and stained with blood. He seemed a little more… Content? After some cheesecake.

Still didn’t make up for you ditching him all those years ago, and he’s certain to continue to hold that against you as leverage to get what he wants until he’s milked it dry.

With his hands now clean because you politely asked him to, you’re watching him take his time with each page. You’re curled up against him on your comfy couch, body leaning into him, your head resting against his shoulder. He supports your weight.

The room around you provides ambiance when you’re not speaking. The sound of your clock on the wall, and the television in front of you both at low volume, playing some old black and white romance movie that neither of you cared to actually watch. The news was an option, but you didn’t want to listen to whatever was going on in the world when all you cared about was right next to you, encased comfortably within these four walls that you could call a part of your home.

As he flips through various pages, there’s all sorts of memoirs of both your youth that ranged from photos to drawings to letters you’d send him. He was older than you. You were younger. But you grew up close together within proximity. You remember digging up worms in the dirt together, observing unlucky dead baby birds that fell out of their nest, watching the seasons as caterpillars turned to either moths or butterflies, and throwing bugs in spider webs just to marvel at the way nature could be so beautiful yet so cruel.

It was a constant cycle of life and death. That’s the way the world works, isn’t it? You think to yourself, as Art is still coated in now dried gore that fortunately won’t stain your couch, but may very well make it stink. He smells like death. And sulfur. He is death.

And he’s warm. So comfortably warm. You don’t have central heating system money, and fall is here. So he’s quite nice. A warm living furnace. But a stinky one. You wrinkle your nose.

“I kept a lot of our memories.” You confess as he’s nearing the end of the book, now looking at the pictures you cut out of your yearbook and slapped between the pages. He doesn’t look at you. It’s almost as if the clown is entranced, enticed and curious about a life that he almost doesn’t seem to recognize, like it’s the first time seeing them. But they’re all him, alright.

Art wraps an arm around your form as he continues to go through the contents of your blood, sweat and tears all pressed between leather and bindings. He pulls you in closer, attention never leaving the pages.

He appreciates the effort of documentation. And, you think, he appreciates you.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam vs Mammon

Based on the rp blog @fanofstuff01

Adam: Do I have to go to this meeting? You always complain about how boring and what a waste of time they are.

Lucifer: Well, as Hell's newest King it's only a matter of time before you'd meet all the sins anyway. Might as well get it out of the way before Sinsmas.

Adam and Lucifer were currently riding in the limo down to the other side of Pride where the Sins meeting was going to take place. Since recently getting married and with twins on the way it was important that Adam get well acquainted with the sins.

But that also meant dealing with that loud mouth Mammon.

Adam: Yeah I guess so.

He placed his hand on his belly and gently rubbed they were so excited to be having kids together at long last.

They pulled up to the building and got out of the limo, Luicfer helped Adam out and they went inside. They sat on the thrones at the high end of the table. Since Adam was crowned King now he had to start attending these meetings at least before the twins came.

Adam sat beside Lucifer holding his hand and the other on his belly. It was like the damn thing grew overnight. He's four months or 17 weeks along.

The sins started to pile into the room and Adam tried not to give Mammon the stink eye. Fucking fat bastard thinks he can just step on Lucifer like he's a bug under his god damned shoe? At least Satan apologized when he broke Lucifer's thumb accidentally.

Lucifer: Good, everyone is here so-

Mammon: Why the fuck is he here?

Lucifer clenched his jaw, they haven't even been here five minutes and already this shit show was acting up. Adam glared at him.

Lucifer: Don't start. Adam is here to-

Mammon: To be an eye sore? Because honestly Lu you-

Adam didn't hear the rest of what he said because his temper flared, something hot inside his core ignited and it wanted out. It wanted out now.

Adam slammed both hands on the table, he felt like a man possessed as he stared down the sin of Greed on the other end of the meeting table.

Adam: The only eye sore in this room is you, you fat ugly piece of Christmas jester garbage. STOP interrupting him!

Luicfer's eyes went wide, what the Hell had gotten into Adam? Sure Mammon was a rude sack of shit but Lucifer could handle him. This little outburst where the other sins were stunned, made Mammon burst out laughing.

Mammon: Oh please!

He got up from his seat and circled the table until he was right by Adam, Lucifer was ready to snap him in half in case he tried anything. Mammon stuck his finger out pointing at Adam..

Mammon: Really Lu? This? You really ought to get your bitch in lin- INE!!

Adam felt that heat only got stronger and he grabbed Mammons finger and with strength he didn't know he possessed, snapped his pointer finger like a twing. He shoved the sin of Greed so hard he landed on his fat ass making the meeting room quake.

Lucifer: .... Adam?

He peered around to look at his husband and was shocked to see his eyes were wholly red, no other color there. His face pinched in a snarl as he glared at Mammon.

Mammon: Why you little bitch!!

He got up and was about to charge at Adam, but Adam held out his hand and in a burst of Hell's flame his guitar axe appeared and he used it to smack Mammon directly in the face making him stumble back before Adam came down and embedded it into Mammons foot.

Step on his fucking husband.

Mammon howled in pain, that shouldn't hurt!? What the fuck?

Mammon: The fuck is that made of angelic steel!?

Adam: Yes actually.

He twisted the blade more, black blood pooled and gushed onto the floor.

Adam: Or did you forget who the fuck I am? I was a commander for a fucking reason you cunt, so I suggest you sit down, stop interrupting my fucking husband or the next place this axe will go is in your fucking skull!!

That last part came out more demonic, flames escaped Adams mouth and the lights flickered.

Mammon actually looked nervous.

Lucifer went over and placed a hand on Adams shoulder, which made Adam relax.

Lucifer: I think he's had enough for now, Addie.

Adam blinked, his eyes going back to that beautiful golden shade Lucifer loved so much. He turned and pulled his guitar out of Mammons foot. Lucifer guided Adam back to his seat as Mammon limped away to his own.

He kept an arm around Adams waist for the rest of the meeting, more so to keep his husband in place. And to feel his lovely curves.

Lucifer: Anyone else? No? Good, let's get this meeting underway.

[iamjacksragingboner]

Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap

Word Count: 1.6K

Alternate Endings Here

Warnings: The tiniest smidgen of angst but it ends nice so you better not complain, not super proofread

A/N: Yeah I dunno, came up with this last night and just crammed it out today in a sort of word diarrhea in which I blacked out and woke up naked and alone in the middle of the bush with this on my laptop screen. Make of that what you will

Contrary to his callsign, Soap is, and always has been, a gross little goober of a man

He’s been gross since you were kids, going digging for worms, collecting hermit crabs to take home from the beach in his pockets, rolling around in the dirt and coming home tracking mud on the carpet. Of course, it wasn’t all bad. He’d always offer to kiss your scrapes and bruises better, even if they were bloody or muddy. He’d always find pretty seashells to give you amidst his hunt for the largest hermit crab. He was gross within reason.

You had many a fond memory of going off to the creek at the back of your neighbouring houses with him. You'd climb up to what felt like perilous heights in your child minds, to sit on the highest point of the creek. From there, you would watch as Johnny dug for the perfect stones for you both to skim, watch him build dams and change the currents of the water. Watch as he would lunge at bugs, fish, tadpoles, lizards, and present them up to you from below, the squirming creatures clutched in his mud covered hands.

At the end of the day, just before your parents would call you back home for dinner, Johnny would climb up on the rock with you, just to sit and hold your hand. If he was feeling particularly bold, he would plant a kiss on your hand, and tell you he was going to marry you one day. You called him gross for that too, but latched onto the idea all the same.

Your early teen years, where puberty had begun for the both of you, was plagued with a myriad of varying smells and odours. Forget sweating like a pig, Johnny sweat like a boar; walking home from school with him after P.E. was a nightmare for your nasal cavities. You didn't mind though, he made good enough conversation that you ended up getting used to the stink.

For the amount of afternoons you spent in his room, you'd think you would eventually get used to the sight of his dirty clothes and mugs littering his floor and desk. You never did, always scolding him for not keeping his room clean knowing he had a lady coming over. He would always laugh, even as you threw his pillow at him, copping it square in the face.

So many nights were spent laying side by side in his bed, talking late into the night, curious hands too scared to do more than brush pinkies with the other laying inches away. You always felt as though you could feel him staring at you in the quieter moments of those nights, but you never caught him.

You spent your later teen years feeling bitterly towards him. You went from thinking you'd be best friends forever, to being an afterthought for Johnny. You did try, of course, to keep close to him.

In his late teen years, Johnny was gross in the sense that he’d go off to parties just to see how many people he could make out with. Would have sex with anyone who offered, just for the hell of it. Accompanying him to parties was a nightmare.

"You promise you won't abandon me this time?" You found yourself asking this more than once, each time slightly less optimistic than the last, but never losing your faith in him.

"Of course not, lass," he would always say. "Yer ma' girl! I'll stick right by yer side this time, lass. I promise."

What shallow promises they were. You were always demoted to the third wheel, the one who held the drinks while he went off to flirt with someone new he hadn't fucked yet. You found yourself leaving early and alone most nights, walking home and hugging your sides to keep yourself from falling apart, kicking stones imagining they were Johnny's face. Cursing yourself for thinking this time would be different, and that maybe he'd look at you for once. Going to bed cold and bitter, knowing just next door, Johnny would be waking up with someone else next to him in his bed. You just hoped he remembered to keep his room clean for them.

You both graduated, with Johnny leaving to join the military and you leaving to go to university. You kept in scarce contact over the years, occasionally calling to catch up, Johnny telling you where he was stationed, you telling him what you were working on at uni, apologising for missing birthdays, missing holidays, promises to call again soon, promising to catch up when he's home, all shallow. At least, that's what it felt like to you.

Until one night, when you were out at a bar with you friends, celebrating your recent graduation. You were all discussing with great vigour what you would all get up to with your newfound freedom from studies, when you felt the familiar feeling of eyes boring holes into the back of your skull. A little unsettled, you took a look around the bar, trying to see who could possibly be staring at you so intensely, but you couldn't quite catch their eye. You sipped at your drink, a frown furrowing your brows for a moment, before you brushed the feeling off altogether.

An hour passed and you'd forgotten the feeling in the haze of the alcohol. You were ordering yourself another drink, and as you reached into your wallet to grab out your card, another hand swooped in front of you to pay for your drink. You looked up, startled, before you met his gaze. Johnny. Staring down at you with a smile that could melt glaciers.

"Johnny, you didn't tell me you were in town," you murmured, eyes greedily taking in as much of him as you could in this moment of reunion. Scars on his chin covering the one he got from splitting his chin riding a bike for the first time. Stubble covering his jaw. The corniest mohawk that he had always talked about getting, sitting on top of his head. Your face flushed beet red when your eyes dragged over his built form; apparently that childhood crush you'd had on him all those years ago hadn't quite faded as much as you'd thought it had.

"You didn't tell me you'd graduated university, lass," he replied, the sound of his voice—finally in person again and not over the phone—sending shivers down your spine. "Had to find out myself from yer mum."

You hid your guilt behind the drink you tipped back into your mouth, averting your gaze as he watched you with dark eyes. "Thanks for the drink," you breathed, and he laughed.

"Don't even mention it, 's the least I can do. Why don't we go sit down somewhere 'n catch up, aye? Come on, lass."

You found yourself being guided over to a booth, Johnny's hand on the small of your back, sending ripples of warmth through you and into places the alcohol couldn't quite reach. You sat down first, with Johnny shuffling in close beside you, your shoulders brushing, electricity coursing through your veins.

As you sat and spoke, catching up on what you've missed in each other's lives, you found yourself noticing something. Johnny was using all the moves he used to use on people he fancied in high school, the ones he used to get them all flustered, to get in their pants.

You had to admit, you could see why so many people slept with him; he was charismatic as all hell, that boyish charm spawning those all too familiar butterflies in your gut, and he was quite literally always in contact with you. Whether it be the arm resting behind you on the seat of the booth, his knee gently nudging yours beneath the table, or a hand tucking a hair behind your ear, it seemed Johnny had turned the charm up to the max.

It was nice to be on the receiving end of it for once, but there was a certain bitterness that still lingered behind like a foul taste in the back of your throat. Was this just meaningless flirting to him, were you just another girl on his list to fuck and be done with? With all the alcohol in your system, you were well and truly past the point of caring, but you knew that if you woke up tomorrow morning in an empty bed you'd not only be cursing him, but yourself as well.

You let him lean in closer, tracing a finger down your cheek, and you let yourself be giddy, blushing like a schoolgirl when he winked at you. You let yourself swoon when he kissed you, cradling your face in his calloused palms. You let him take you back to his parent's place, nestled just next to your own home. You let him take you upstairs and into his room, holding your hand and shushing you when you both laughed a little too loud.

You let yourself feel like teens once more as you stumbled into that all too familiar room, hit with the smell of Johnny, the smell of home. You felt guilty, ashamed, as you let yourself savour the taste of him, the feeling of his naked body pressed against yours, his hands raking along your body as if you'd disappear if he let go. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms, smiling as he carded his fingers through your hair and pressed kisses to your scalp, whispering incoherent things into your skin.

You awoke the next morning, expecting to find Johnny's bed empty. But it wasn't. And neither was it the next morning, or the morning after that. In fact, the pair of you spent a lot of time waking up together.

This is where you find yourself now, lying in the early morning light in Johnny's bed, the man in question sprawled out next to you, snoring with his mouth wide open, drool leaking on his pillow.

"Gross," you murmur to yourself with a fond smile, tucking yourself into his side and closing your eyes once more.

[jupiterswasphouse]

Why do Bees have five eyes.

There are a few hypotheses as to why the extra, simple eyes of insects are a thing, from aiding their sense of direction, to head stabilization, to motion tracking/sensitivity.

Bees have two compound eyes that are capable of true sight, followed by three ocelli (or simple eyes) capable only of simple sight (in most cases) in the form of light detection, in the middle, on top of their heads! But they're not the only ones, all Hymenopterans including sawflies, ants, and other wasps have these three eyes.

[Image Source: Pensoft, Matthias Haase | Image ID: Five different views of two black, orange, and yellow Scoliid wasps, the images on the right showing its ocelli prominently /End IDs.]

Most other insects also have these simple eyes, from one to three, if not through their whole life then at the very least in their youth, barring some insects that don't/rarely fly or are blind/live in caves, among others. Lepidopterans (moths, butterflies), beetles (mainly in youth apart from certain species), silverfish, flies, orthopterans (grasshoppers, crickets, katydids), dictyopterans (mantises, roaches/termites), hemipterans (stink bugs, assassin bugs, cicadas, planthoppers, etc.), stick bugs, lacewings, mayflies, odonata (dragonflies, damselflies), etc etc etc I could probably go on but for the sake of tedium I'll leave it there. All of these have ocelli in many maaany (but not all) of their species.

A few of these, like mantises and cicadas, have them in quite a similar structure to the way the hymenopterans have them!

[Image Sources: Pensoft and Flickr, Barbara Eckstein | Image IDs: An illustrated diagram of the head of a mantis, followed by an up close photo of a green, black, and yellow cicada's head, showing its red ocelli /End IDs.]

Insects aren't even the only ones with extra simple eyes, some crustaceans and myriapods have them (among other arthropods), as well as some lizards, tuataras, and more.

[muldermuse]

Plus One (Fox Mulder X Reader)

This is based on an ask I recieved <333 thank u for sending it through

Scully is unable to attend an event so Fox asks you to be his plus one.

“It means a lot that you’re coming tonight, I’ll uh- I’ll pick you up at your apartment at 6? Have a chat about the mission in the car and then go from there…I’m looking forward to seeing you…Scully said your dress looks good and you know that she knows more about that stuff than me *laughs*. Um, okay well this is a long voicemail so uh-right, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh! This is Fox by the way.”

It definitely was not your usual practice to have a glass of red wine before getting ready for a mission but you had to admit that you felt nervous about tonight.  It was standard for Mulder and Scully to do something like this. To get intel about a case, they’d dress up and rub shoulders with people unknowingly involved in an X File. Sometimes they’d pose as a couple and other times they would pose as two singles trying to seek out a partner for the evening. They would collect as much intel as possible and within the following weeks; the case would undoubtedly be solved.

This was a huge case so Scully was in another state, sleeping in her car to avoid the bed bug-ridden motel that Skinner had put her up in. Fox was too nervous to ask you so you got a call from Scully late last night. The key contact Fox had been trying to speak to about this case was attending a Gala in Washington. The contact was old school, any guest to the Gala had to have a date for the evening, and of course; it was a black tie event. You were reluctant and Scully knew you would be. “Listen, if you want to fly out and take my place in this crappy rental car, which stinks of fries for some reason- I would thank you for it. But, you’ll have a great time and I know you have that black dress that you’re looking for an excuse to wear…”.

So here you are, pouring a large glass of red wine and listening to the Spice Girls as you try to focus all your nervous energy into applying your make up and curling your hair. You slip your dress on at quarter to 5. The dress was expensive and it looks it. It’s black and shimmering under the fairy lights strung over your bookshelf. It’s hugging your curves, it’s hiding any insecurities and you have to admit- you look amazing. The remaining wine in the glass slides down your throat and gives a final rush of adrenaline. Fox knocks at the door at exactly 6 o’clock.

***

He's wearing his glasses. That’s the first thing that you recognize. Not the bouquet of flowers tightly clutched in his fist, not the perfectly tailored suit or the nervous expression covering his face.

“You’re wearing glasses, I’ve never seen you wear them outside of the office.” You smile at him and he smiles back but he seems distracted. He doesn’t reply for a few seconds and as the awkward energy fills the air; he thrusts the flowers towards your hands.

“Yeah, I think they make me look smarter” He awkwardly laughs. “These are for you...obviously…you usually have peonies at your desk on special occasions so I thought you’d like them.”

“They’re beautiful, I didn’t realise that you noticed stuff like that. Maybe you’re a better agent than I suspected Fox” you wink as you go back into your apartment and place the flowers in the sink with some water. You take the moment with the faucet running to compose yourself.

God.

He looks so fucking good.

The nerves that have slowly dissipated over the past hour are suddenly back without warning. He looks so good- do you look alright? Oh god, are you not dressed up enough? Does he think you look okay? I bet he wishes that Scully was here right now, you could potentially jeopardise this entire case and you know how hard they’re both working on it.

You’re too lost in your own thoughts to hear Fox cross the room and place a warm hand against your lower back. The tension zapping through your body streams out with a deep exhale.

“I have a car waiting downstairs, we should probably go”. He holds his arm out for you with a grin and he guides you downstairs. He holds the car door open for you. Whilst you have a moment alone; you whisper to yourself an affirmation that tonight will go well.

You have no idea that Fox is doing the same thing.

***

Fox has liked you for a while and he suspects that this occasion is all Scully’s doing. There was no real reason for her to travel to Wyoming, it was some anonymous call which Fox completely doubts the validity of.  When it comes to the X Files and his career, Fox is a ‘do-er.’ He wants to get out there, prove the importance of his work and save lives.

However, when it comes to his relationships. At the minute, Fox is less active.

The moment he saw you smiling; you had never been far from his thoughts. Scully struck up a friendship with you through a mutual love of the same sandwich served a local deli. Fox would sit in on your lunch dates together, he’d always try and make you laugh- feeling an immense sense of pride when he did.

Scully had disclosed to him her feelings on your boyfriend, Jason. You had so much love to give and he seemed to be the opposite. Closed off and cold. Scully told Fox you’d been arguing more and were getting close to breaking up. When you did, Fox watched from afar as your usual bright smile never reached your eyes.

***

The car ride is filled with idle chat. The tension in the air seems to mount as you both try desperately to ignore it. Fox tells you about the Gala and what to expect. It’s more of an occasion to scope out the group rather than to gather intel on a specific target.

You don’t realise that as the car drives closer to your destination that your knee begins to bounce and your fingers fidget with the tassle on your handbag. Fox rests his hand on your knee and his thumb rubs calming small circles on your soft skin.

“You look amazing, thanks again for doing this.”

Before you can thank him or compliment him back, the car pulls to a stop and the door opens.

***

The room is grand and glamourous. It’s a decadent affair with rich red velvet curtains and carpets decorating each room. The different perfumes and aftershaves blend together to create a sweet floral scent that lingers as every person passes. It’s a crowd of black tuxedos and billowing ballgowns, everyone smiling politely with a clear hint of judgement to every passerby. The sound of the band is lost over the exchanging of pleasantries and the distinctive pop of champagne corks, followed by a polite cheer.

It's completely unlike anywhere else you have ever been or anywhere you are likely to ever go.

“I think I’m the poorest person in here by about three million dollars, Fox”

“Oh no, it’ll be way more than that,” Fox says with a wink as he hands you a glass of champagne. He moves in close enough to whisper to you and you try to ignore the sensation of his breath fanning your neck.

“See that guy over there with the red suit, he has a huge interest in extraterrestrials. It’s massive so much so that he spends around five and a half million dollars a year trying to prove they’re real. He’s got that much money it’s basically a game.”

The bubbles of champagne trickle down your throat as you move closer into Fox’s hold. He holds your waist and rotates you to look at another corner of the room. His breath remains hot on your neck and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins or his presence that is making your head feel fuzzy.

“That lady over there with the huge hat, like, ridiculously big hat.” You nod at Fox without taking your eyes off her. “The Lone Gunman guys suspect that she gets all her money from selling UFOs that crash, on the black market. She only leaves her guarded house three times a year and this is one of the occasions.”

“Suspect? So it could be something completely different.” You smirk up at Fox, he grabs another two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to you. “Who knows, maybe she makes her money selling really big hats.”

“Or maybe, the reason her hat is so big is because it’s broadcasting a message to a UFO flying over Washington”. His grin matches yours.

You clink the glasses together and without the other knowing, both of you acknowledge the butterflies fluttering in your stomachs.

***

Neither of you speak to anyone else, you find a quiet corner tucked away in the hall room and chat. You sip on a glass of wine and Fox holds a tumbler of whiskey but both drinks go warm as you get lose in the conversation with each other.

It dawns on you that before tonight, you’ve never really spoken to Fox as it’s usually a group environment or a passing hi-goodbye as you both make your way home at the end of the day.

He tells you about his family, he tells you about his favourite cases and more importantly than all of the things he’s saying to you- he’s present with you the entire time. Conversations with your ex were one sided and that was something that took months to admit. You realized your relationship with Jason was over during a conversation. You’d just got the promotion that you’d spent months working on and he asked one simple question that felt like a knife to your pumping heart.

“When were you going to tell me about that promotion?”

You had told him; of course you had. You’d told him when you first heard about it, you’d told him the planning you’d spent weeks organizing and you told him the morning of the interview.

He hadn’t heard any of it.

You’d been together over a year. You had met each other’s family, met each other’s friends, you’d fallen in love and within that conversation; you realized how far from love you both had fallen.

The big band music was gradually playing louder and louder. You’d both been straining to shout over it to keep the conversation going. Eventually, you realized a way you would be able to hear Fox better, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.

***

The music was soft, flowing through the air as the lights began to dim slowly and the illuminated table decorations filled in the dark spaces. You placed your arms around Fox’s shoulders as his large hands slid down to your waist. Your heart was beating the steadiest that it had all night.

“How did you know about the peonies? I’ve never told you or Scully about that.” Your hands remained interlocked around his neck as you fought the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Well, I know your birthday and you had peonies on that date. When you got that promotion, you had peonies, and when uh…yeah, you have peonies.” A nervous look flashes across his face. You know what he was going to say.

“When I broke up with Jason, someone in the office got me peonies and left them on my desk. It was the only thing that made me smile that week”. The memory still makes you emotional, the week was relentless sleepless nights and non-stop crying. On the last day of the week, there was a gorgeous bunch of peonies in a vase on your desk. No note, no name- nothing.

His hands tighten around your waist as he rests his forehead against yours, “I’m glad you liked them…it was hard to see you look so sad”.

Of course it was him.

It always was.

It always is.

Before you can carry on speaking or stop the tears trying to fill your eyes. He tilts your chin to meet your eyeline with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight or thanked you for this…I mean thanked you properly."

You place your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, continuing to sway to the music; you hear him take a breath before carrying on.

"I've liked you for a while and god, does that sound childish to say. This means a lot to me and you being here means even more. I'd like to take you out, I can't always promise it will be this fancy...actually, I can guarantee it never will be but I want to spend time with you. In any setting, I possibly can."

He doesn't look at you and you don't look at him. It felt like a confession he needed to make but perhaps didn't have the confidence to say it to your face. Which is amazing to you because Fox Mulder doesn't strike you as someone who struggles with anxieties.

"I think this place is a bit too fancy for me, maybe we can chat more at the 24 hour diner near my apartment? I think we'll look a bit different from the usual patrons" You gesture at your black gown and his tuxedo. He smiles as he takes your hand and leads you to the exit.

Before you get back into the car, you press a kiss to his lips and thank him for the evening. For the entire journey to the diner; you hold each other's hands tightly.

[bughazard]

Back to linocut print making for meee

I'll probably have copies of these up on ko-fi in a week or two :)!

ID under the cut if alt text is inaccessible for any reason ->

[ID: A black and white linocut print of a large centipede, millipede, cicada, beetle, stink bug, isopods, and a seed bug. They are all depicted from the top down, in a somewhat jagged/geometric style.

The second image shows the physically carved linocut block for the aforementioned print being held in front of the camera. End ID]