#british comedian x reader

[wowpindrop]

Unavoidable | Doctor!James Acaster (& others)

For: anon

Request:

Basically for this first request, gonna be a little strange but I had a dream that James Acaster was Doctor Who and his companions were Josh Widdecombe and Ed Gamble and I was the Doctors child and was wondering if you could write something including fluff based on it? But instead of me it’s the Teen!reader obviously, I’m 18 and Gender-Fluid and use all pronouns, any and all pronouns would be great in regarding the reader.

Notes:

Hi anon! I'm so srry this has taken me so long to do, but I lost the first draft so I had to redo it :[. But it's finished now! I literally love the idea sm, James as the doctor would be so hectic I cannot. I've decided to keep Ed and Josh's names the same so it isn't confusing but James is obvs referred to as the doctor. I hope it's alright. Also if you wanna be tagged in future fics that i post, dm me n ill add u to the list. Happy reading!

Tags:

@frankieray

Summary:

The doctor makes a foolish mistake leading to you getting injured on an adventure, he is quick to make sure you're alright and to assure you it won't happen again.

TW: SLIGHT BLOOD AND INJURY (BUT ITS ALL FLUFFY AT THE END)

It was unexpected when you heard the bullet go off behind you. Yes, you knew the aliens you were currently facing weren't cowards- it wasn't as if they were too scared to shoot.

It was just surprising that they shot you.

You weren't in their direct line of fire, it would've been simpler to maybe shoot Josh, or even the Doctor, but yet here you were.

The Doctor. Your doctor.

He had found you on one of his adventures, complete coincidence. It just happened that he was your biological father, not that you has any idea.

The gangly man had a very different personality to your more serious, stoic nature. You wouldn't have guessed, not by looking at you both anyway.

His, happy, bubbly nature. Constantly bouncing around the TARDIS, occasionally bumping into the control panel, and swearing under his breath, much to the enjoyment of Ed and Josh, the two men who the Doctor had decided to travel with as companions.

That's why it was so surprising that the aliens didn't shoot the Doctor, the amount of attention he was bringing to himself on the deck of the spaceship anyway.

The ringing in your ears began to subside.

You looked down.

Your raised a shaking hand to eye level, to see it coated in a dark shade of your blood.

Your breathing quickened as you realised.

Then your legs gave way.

The last thing you saw before the darkness was the Doctor swearing loudly before yelling orders at Ed and Josh, flailing his limbs frantically.

You could feel the blood slowly oozing out of your wound as your eyes began to close. The Doctor rushed to your side, kneeling. His hand finding the side of your face.

"Stay with me. Fucking hell please stay with me."

Your eyes fluttered open to bright white lights. They made you squint as you began to sit up, wincing at the pain in you side. You leant on your elbows as you looked around the infirmary of the TARDIS, somewhere you had gotten acquainted with after dangerous adventures with your father.

None had been as severe as this.

They were usually minor things: cuts, grazes that sort of thing.

Ever still, the Doctor would stress, worrying about every tiny injury you had. Long slender fingers plastering up even the slightest paper cut.

You turned to your left, to see the Doctor asleep in a chair. Messy auburn hair covering his eyes as he snored, out of place. The outfit he wore was dirty with dust and grime.

He was snoring lightly, his mop of hair shaking slightly with each inhale. Just another one of his many quirks.

You attempted to stand, throwing your legs over the side of the hospital-esc bed. As you did the Doctor stirred, waking.

He saw you trying to get up and started to panic a bit.

"No, you have to lie down, you took a heavy blow out there man."

You huffed and lay back down, looking up to see his blue eyes laced with concern and worry.

"Dad I'm fine. Its only minor."

"Minor? You were bleeding out, you were lucky you didn't end up with any more damage that was already done."

You rolled your eyes in defeat as the Doctor began to check the gauze that covered the wound.

"I don't know what I would've done if you didn't make it back kid." He said after a while, slender fingers pulling back down your shirt, which now had a fairly large red rimmed hole in it.

"Well I'm fine aren't I." You responded with a slight smile.

"It should've been me, I wasn't paying attention, I put you in danger I'm so sorry-" he began to reel off apologies until you grabbed his hand to make him look at you.

"Dad! I'm ok. It wasn't your fault. None of us could've guessed that would've happened. Don't blame yourself."

A little while later, Ed and Josh entered, worry plastered on their faces. They were relieved to see you awake.

"Bloody hell y/n." Ed chuckled darkly "you got pretty banged up."

"Yeah well, I'm good as new now." You responded, chuckling.

"And im so glad you are." The Doctor whispered, squeezing your hand.

[raisinghellonstarbug]

Is it time for a new long awaited chapter of Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You??

Hmmmmm maybe it is finally time.

(Holy crap baby RHys!)

Check this space later today ;)

[midastouch013]

Nice To Meet You

Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Pronouns not specified)

Summary : You're new to the avengers, and meet the infamous Black Widow for the first time. Do you interest her, or are you just another person?

Warnings: Just sarcasm and overall cute.

P.S I had previously posted this, but had all my fic deleted, so I'm having it posted again

________

The Avengers Tower was alive with activity as Natasha Romanoff entered the common area. The team had been informed about a new member joining them, and Natasha, known for her somewhat reserved demeanor, was intrigued to meet the person who had caught Nick Fury's attention.

As she entered the room, her gaze landed on you, standing a few inches taller than her and engaged in a lively conversation with Wanda Maximoff. Your slight British accent and outgoing demeanor immediately caught Natasha's attention, but she maintained her usual cool exterior.

Wanda noticed Natasha approaching and grinned, waving you over. "Nat, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet Natasha Romanoff," she introduced with a playful smirk.

You turned towards Natasha, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Natasha. Wanda here has been telling me all about the infamous Black Widow. I'm hoping her stories are true."

Natasha assessed you with a raised eyebrow before finally shaking your hand. "We'll see."

Over the next few days, you proved your worth to the team with your medical expertise and combat skills. Natasha observed your interactions with a measured curiosity, not easily swayed by the outgoing nature that seemed to be second nature to you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you and Natasha found yourselves alone in the gym. Natasha was honing her skills, and you were diligently working on perfecting your moves. There was a palpable tension between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of each other's capabilities.

As Natasha executed a precise series of kicks, you couldn't resist a sarcastic comment. "Impressive, Nat. I almost forgot you're not just the resident ice queen."

Natasha shot you a sidelong glance, her expression giving away nothing. "Almost. You're not too bad yourself, for someone who talks as much as Stark during a press conference."

You grinned, reveling in the banter. "Well, talking is an art, Natasha. Not everyone can appreciate it."

Without missing a beat, you mimicked her moves, injecting a bit of humor into the routine. Natasha didn't react overtly, but a subtle quirk of her lips suggested a hint of amusement.

In the following days, your interactions with Natasha became a delicate dance of sarcasm and skill. You found ways to break through her stoic facade, and she responded with a dry wit that matched your own. One day, during a mission briefing, Tony , leaning against the Quinjet with a smirk, quipped during the mission briefing, "I've upgraded the Quinjet, folks. Now it's not just state-of-the-art; it's Stark-of-the-art. I know, I'm a genius, thank me later."

You couldn't let Tony's comment slide without a retort. Smirking, you raised an eyebrow and replied, "Well, Stark, if your upgrades are as functional as your relationships, we might want to consider taking the stairs next time." The room burst into laughter, including Natasha, who couldn't help but crack a smile. Tony, momentarily taken aback, playfully rolled his eyes. "Oh, someone call the burn unit. We've got a comedian on the team."

"Looks like even the ice queen can appreciate a good dose of sarcasm," you remarked afterwards when you had sat yourself next to the redhead, earning a subtle smirk from her.

As time passed, Natasha Romanoff found herself acknowledging the camaraderie that had formed between you two. The Avengers Tower became witness to the unlikely friendship and something more that blossomed between the thought to be frigid assassin and the outgoing doctor, proving that even in the high-stakes world of superheroes, a well-timed quip and a shared smirk could go a long way.

—----------

[literaila]

peter or reader like officially asking the other out or deciding to date, whichever floats your boat

ps thank you for all the writing you feed us with

sandwich

tasm!peter x reader

a/n: unedited, unbothered, un-itstoolateforthis

*

“what was that?”

here’s the thing. you’ve been trying to get the words out for days.

almost a week of tiptoeing around peter and giving him (not so) secretive glances over the top of your cubicle, and following him to lunch like a lost little kid, and laughing at all of his jokes like he’s the words best comedian.

he’s not.

you’ve bought him coffee and given him half of your cookie, invaded his apartment, stolen materials from his desk, and kissed him against a wall in the copier room.

and yet, you still can’t get the words out.

“i—“ you shake your head, looking away from him, “nothing.”

he nudges you, almost pushing you off of the bench he coincidentally chose, sitting in the middle of everything, new york city. “no, what?”

“i forgot.”

“you forgot?”

you nod and hum, tearing off a piece of your badly made sandwich, wishing there were ducks to feed it to. or that ducks could eat bread.

“you forgot what you were just about to say?” peter chides, stealing half of your sandwich from the space between you. he’s a thief, and you shouldn’t have left it there.

you try to steal it back from him but he leans away, wonderful, infuriating smile on his face. “i forgot what a pain you are.”

“is that what you meant when you tried to ask me to dinner for the third time today?”

you pause, blinking. then you cough. “what?” you ask, voice high and squeaking. “no, i just—well, um. i didn’t—“

you stop and wait for a moment before peter bursts out laughing.

and you’ve kissed him before. you’ve cuddled with him on couches and fallen asleep on his shoulder, and molded his lips to yours and pulled his hair until he groaned.

but still, your body heats up when he laughs at you. like you’re sixteen and completely stupid.

which you might as well be.

you look away, sighing. this is going just wonderfully.

“no, really,” peter says, his voice closer and far too warm, “ it’s cute.”

“shut up. i’m not asking you anything. i don’t even like you.”

peter laughs again, obnoxiously. “will, erm—“ he mocks, “do you want, um? dinner. or. a snack? my sandwich?”

you’re scowling at him—not that he can see—and you stuff the rest of your sandwich back in it’s bag, moving as far away as you can get from him on this tiny bench. “i would never offer you my sandwich,” you tell him, harsh. “it’s far too valuable.”

“this is literally the worst sandwich i’ve ever had.”

“then give it back,” you grit out, hand darting towards his again.

it’s a second later that you realize just how close you have to get to try and reach his hand—his arm, now held above the two of you. you’re leaning into him, face only inches from his, and you can see the mischief in his eyes. you can feel his breath against your cheek.

“only if you ask nicely,” peter whispers, lip curled.

“please.”

“not what i meant.”

you sigh and try to lean away, but peter puts a hand on your waist, far to close to any skin gaping from your shirt. he keeps you close to him, his smile far too pretty for this moment.

your brows are furrowed and you can’t quite breathe, but you can still push at his chest. “stop, peter.”

“’s just six little words. you can do it.”

“we’re going to be late. it’s almost one.”

peter smiles, his breath just a tease on your skin, his hand just a taunt to dare move away. “not if you hurry up.”

“you’re being mean.”

“am i?”

“peter.”

“you’re the one that’s lying.”

“you stole my sandwich.”

peter smiles, and his hand moves from your back, reaching out toward your cheek. you don’t move, and not just because you don’t want to. “and you my heart,” he says, voice slightly mocking, slightly british.

you groan. “let’s just go,” you tell him reaching up again.

“say it.”

“say what? that i hate you?” you smile at him viciously, “fine. i hate you.”

“close, but no.”

you want to scream at him. you want to melt into the finger that’s tracing across your cheekbone, and you kind of want to lick his neck. just to see what it’s like.

but finally, you sigh. “peter parker, if you think i’m asking you out after this, then you’re—“

peter kisses you, right there.

his hand on your cheek pulls you in, and the one that was holding your sandwich wraps around your neck, keeping you from leaning away.

his lips are warm and his smile is teasing and it’s all far too much for this park bench but you can’t quite bring yourself to even try to stop him. not when he’s being so soft and careful, and not when you can’t even think when he’s near.

his kisses are tiny pecks on the edge of your lips, but somehow peter makes them feel like so much more. he makes it feel like he’s trapped you right there and then laughs at your stockholm syndrome.

eventually, peter pulls back, his lips damp and his smile soft. “how ‘bout now?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours as he leans back down.

“still no.”

peter chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours. “okay. one more thing.”

“what?”

“will you go to dinner with me?”

you laugh and groan, lips meeting his cheek, falling into his embrace. peter wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

you both stay there for a moment, forgetting about work or the fact that this is a public place, or that you’re going to be buzzing with nerves for the rest of the day. you just sit there with peter, taking him in without the restraints.

honestly, you’d been trying to get this over with all week.

“peter?” you whisper, almost a minute later.

“hmm?”

“why is my sandwich on the ground?”

*

[deaddie-munson]

Video Killed The Radio Star

Joseph Quinn x Reader

18+ (Minors DNI or I’ll hex you and that’s a promise)

Angst, slow burn, strangers to lovers, femme AFAB reader, eventual smut, mentions of drug use (Weed, Nicotine, alcohol.), Mentions of past abuse, reader is a radio host, reader is from Canada, use of Y/N, more to be added as things progress.

AN- Hi! This is the first fan fiction I’ve written since middle school. you can let me know if you want to be on a tag list. I work full-time and have adult responsibilities so I will try to write chapters when I can, but there will likely be some inconsistent posting. Just trying fic writing again to get my creative juices flowing. 

Chapter 1 “You’re Hired”

---

“Come on Y/N, you need to get back out there eventually.” Alex said, snatching your phone out of your hand and holding it away from you.

“No, Alex, I do not need to get back out there,” you said making air quotes. You tried to grab the phone back, but you couldn’t reach it as she held it over the aisle of the bus.  

“I’m downloading tinder and making you an account.” Alex said turning the phone towards you to use your face ID. “You need to find at least a fling while you’re on this trip. All the guys would melt at your voice in an instant, I know it.”  

You sighed and held your head in your hands. You weren’t ready to move on yet, thoughts of your ex still swirling around in your brain. He dumped you 7 months ago, but that was the kicker. He. Dumped. You. You were still very much in love when it happened. No, he wasn’t anywhere near perfect. He was a little controlling at times, but you loved him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he kicked you out of your shared apartment, and you were forced to sleep on Alex’s couch. It was older than you with springs poking your back the moment you shifted your weight even the slightest.  

“I think I should, I don’t know, get settled, and maybe get my own apartment before I jump into that, Alex. Seriously, I don’t want a relationship right now, and I don’t do hookups.” You gave her a cold stare as she was going through your camera roll, trying to find the best photos to put on your profile.  

“Y/N, holy shit you look smoking hot in this.” Alex stared at the photo in question. It was a photo from Halloween, Your Playboy bunny costume leaving little to the imagination. It was 3 weeks after your breakup, and after not being allowed to show your body off for 3 years you decided to say fuck it. You thought taking a guy home would help soothe the pain you felt in the pit of your stomach, but after 3 minutes of grunting while you lay underneath, stiff as a board, it was safe to say hookups were not your cup of tea after that.  

“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me. I’m not looking to hook up with people, Alex. That night made me realize that.” You sighed as you stared out the window, the streets of London bustling as you rode from the hotel to your job interview.  

“Well this could be a fresh start for you, Y/N. No one here has a clue who you are. Maybe all these British men are sex gods or something. Everyone knows everyone in our town, this place is worlds different. A lot easier to avoid the ones that finish in 2 minutes.” Alex laughed at herself, thinking she was a comedian as you keep a close eye on the bus stops.  

“We’re here, Alex. Now give me my damn phone.” You said, snatching it out of her hands. She turned to you with puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at her as you pushed her to get up and off the bus.  

“I still can’t believe you got a job interview in London, and they were so insistent on meeting you in person that they let you take me.” Alex raved as you walked the last few blocks to your destination.  

“I know, it was a little strange. I thought they would just do everything online since I certainly didn’t have the money to fly here myself,” you slow your pace, taking in the city surrounding you. You sigh and look at your best friend. “I just needed any excuse to get out of that town. It was too much pain for me to stay. I’m just glad the station let me take the remote gear so I can still do my show. ‘Y/N live from The Big Smoke.’”

“If you get this gig that means you are moving to another continent, and I’m never going to see you again.” Alex pouts.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll be taking plenty of vacations here to see me. Not like you need to pay for a hotel, you can sleep on whatever shitty couch I grab off the side of the road,” you laugh.  

“Okay, rude,” Alex retorts. “I just mean I'll miss you, Y/N. I won’t know who to do tequila shots at the bar with anymore.”

“I’m sure lots of guys will want to do shots with you. Maybe other stuff too...” You chuckle to yourself as you see the building come into view. “I think this is it. Looks pretty swanky.”  

You press the buzzer and an older lady answers. “104.5 The Surge, how can I help you?”

“Um, Yeah, Hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here for my interview with George Thomas for the Program Director Position.” You feel your heart pick up speed and your hands are suddenly clammy.

“Don’t be nervous, Y/N. They will love you, I promise.” Alex whispers. She could see your body tense, clenching your jaw and grinding your teeth together as the lady on the intercom responds.

“Oh yes dear, we were expecting you. I’ll buzz you in.” The door unlocks and you hold the door open for Alex to step through. Giving her a wide-eyed expression so she knew how much you were panicking.  

“Just breathe. You’ll be fine,” Alex said as you step into the lobby. The walls were a rusty orange, autographed records and photos covering the walls. A locked trophy case filled with awards catching your attention as you stepped towards it.

“Is that a grammy? Wow, I wonder how they got their hands on that?” You looked in awe at all the awards and slowly walked to the desk where the lady from the intercom sat, Typing away while humming the song faintly playing in the background.

“Y/N, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name! George has not stopped talking about you since your first interview.” She beamed up at you.

“Really? Oh, well, I guess I’m glad I left a good impression.” You played with a hangnail on the side of your thumb, focusing on anything but the fact you were about have a job interview for the opportunity of a lifetime.  

“George will just be a few minutes, because one of his meetings is running a little late. If you want to take a seat over there by the fireplace He will be out soon and come to get you. If you need anything in the meantime, my name is Cynthia.” She gestured to the opposite side of the lobby where there were a group of green leather couches, looking pristine and comfortable.

“This sure beats your couch, huh Alex.” You plop down on the couch with a thud, feeling the plush memory foam of the cushion allowing you to sink into it.  

“Well you won’t have to sleep on any couches if you get this job.” Alex quips back.  

A familiar voice comes into ear shot. Very low and gravely with a very posh accent. “Well, I’m glad you could stop by to interview for the podcast before you fly out. We really appreciate your time,”

Another voice, that sounds much younger responds, a pretty accent on him that made his words sound like silk. “It’s really not a problem, I always remember where I started, George.” He sounds... Familiar. No one else was ever in your online interviews, so you can’t pinpoint who the voice belongs too.

The older man you recognize swoops around the corner and sees you and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N! I’m glad you made it! I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Absolutely Sir, take your time.” You said, a little more chipper than you wanted it to come out.  

“Oh, call me George,” he says as he continues towards the door. The man behind him follows around the corner and you recognize him immediately. You look over at Alex and her jaw could have been on the floor.

---

On the plane ride from YHZ to LCY the two of you decided to watch the new season of Stranger Things since it just came out and you needed something that would last you at least a good chunk of the ride. You downloaded them on Netflix the night before you left and started watching together on your iPad while it was propped up on the tiny tray table. You were watching together in silence until you saw a new character being introduced.

“Ooo... A new person? I’m interested.” Alex says as she leans in a little closer to the screen. When the face from behind the magazine appears, she backs away from the screen and slumps back in her seat turning to face you. “Damn I was hoping for another Steve Harrington to thirst over, what do you think Y/N-”

You were staring at the screen. Mouth agape, eyes fixed on the man on the screen in front of you.

“Y/N. Really? Joe Keery exists and THIS is who you see and immediately have the hots for?” Alex teased.

“I do not!” You hit her with your elbow and paused the show.

“I never knew you were into freaks, Y/N.” Alex laughs pretending to wipe drool from your mouth with her sleeve.

“Wait was I seriously drooling?” You grab your phone to look at yourself in your camera.

“HA! Gotcha! You do have the hots for him.” Alex laughed, trying to contain herself so she doesn’t annoy everyone on the plane.

“I need to find out who his actor is as soon as we land,” you said.  

---

You sat there in shock, and looked at Alex who was still sitting beside you. Eyes wide and mouth wide open. You elbow her and she comes back to reality, smoothing her hair and adjusting her posture so she looked as pretty and feminine as possible.  

“Y/N, this is Joseph Quinn. I don’t know if you’re a Stranger Things fan but he has just had his big break as their new addition to the main cast,” George said. Gesturing to Joseph. He was blushing at his introduction, not being used to celebrity status yet.  

You get up from your seat on the couch and start panicking immediately. You weren't mentally prepared for this interview, let alone meeting the man who somehow awakened something in you hadn’t felt in 3 years. “Yeah um hi, it’s nice to meet you Joseph. I’m Y/N Y/L/N since I guess we’re on full name basis here.”

He chuckles at your introduction. Oh my god he thinks I’m funny. “Oh, just call me Joe. It’s lovely to meet you Y/N, and this is?” He said gesturing to the girl beside you. Once again, she is stiff as a board with her mouth wide open in shock.

“Well, this is Alex. She is a big Stranger Things fan so I think she might be a little star struck right now,” you giggle as she comes to from hearing her name. She gets up and rushes over eagerly, taking Joe’s hand in a firm (and probably a little too enthusiastic) handshake.

“I can already tell you're not from here, so what brings you to The Surge? New project you’re chatting with George about?” He said taking in your features as he talks. Your head looks at the ground while you laugh, but you can still feel his big brown eyes on you. You felt a little weak in the knees.

“Y/N is here from a small town in eastern Canada, and she is actually interviewing to take over my position. I’m moving into a less hands on roll I can do from home as I ease myself into retirement,” he said. “I can’t wait to be able to travel with Rhonda and do the things we’ve talked about before we get too old.”

“Well that’s lovely, George. You deserve it. Good luck with the interview, Y/N. I may be seeing a lot more of you.” Joe said giving you a smile and reaching out his hand to shake yours. You were now acutely aware your hands are very clammy. You quickly rubbed your hand on your pant leg and he cupped your hand in between both of his, feeling something light in your hand as you closed it into a fist, and stuffed it in your pocket to look at later.  

“C-can I get a photo if you don’t mind?” Alex said, holding her phone out to you.

“Uh, sure absolutely,” Joe said, wrapping an arm around Alex as you back up and snap a photo of them.  

“One of those should work,” You said to Alex as she steals her phone out of your hand and Looks through the photos.

“Y/N. You better get this job. I want to walk in here to see Joe Keery walking out next.” She whispered in your ear as she walked back to the couches in the lobby.  

Joe looked at you and gave you a quick wink and cheeky smile as he headed out the door. George a few steps ahead to open it for him “Don’t be a stranger, Joe.” He said as Joe steps out the door.

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in London!” He calls back, walking to the car waiting for him.  

“Alright, Y/N, let’s get this party started shall we? Follow me.” George leads the way to a conference room with a large circular table with 15 chairs around it.  

“This is a lot bigger then the board room at my home station,” you said scanning your eyes at all the art and memorabilia that covered the walls, the newest one sitting on top of the table. A framed Hellfire club shirt with Joe’s signature.

“That’s an original from the show,” he brags. “Joe interned here as a kid before he started acting. I always knew he was going to go somewhere. So this is a big deal for us here, but enough about Joe. This is about you. How was your flight?”

“No delays, surprisingly,” you said. Feeling some of the nerves start to dissipate as you sit on opposite sides of the large table.  

“Well, I must say, it’s a first for us to be flying someone out for an interview, but with the rave references you got and how much you’ve accomplished in your short career, I can’t help but think you’d be a perfect fit to bring a breath of fresh air back into this station.” George said.

“Wow, well it’s a passion so I try to give my all in everything I do. When you love what you do, you never work a day in your life, right?” You ask.

“Absolutely, and I know I said this was an interview, but I actually just wanted to offer you the job in person,” he explained. “I think you can do a lot of good for this station, and nobody else seems to love the job as much as you do. What do you think about that?”

“A-absolutely I accept. Thank you so much, I will not let you down,” you stutter. Your hands shaking as you reach over the table to shake his hand.  

“Now, we will pay for your trip home and back to grab your things, but we have a fully furnished flat ready for you to move into,” he explained. “Joe’s new building had an opening and he just bought all  new furniture so he gave his old stuff to us to put in there for you.”

“Joe, as in the Joe I just met?” you asked.  

“Yeah, he just messaged me saying you can pop by before 5 o’clock tonight and he will give you the grand tour. Apparently, it’s pretty nice. Don’t worry about the first month's rent either, we will cover that for you, and it’s well within your budget,” he said, handing you a keycard. “This is for the station door. Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“This is a dream come true, truly. Thank you for this opportunity, I am so excited to start,” you said.

“Well, I think you have a friend in the lobby waiting to hear the good news!” George holds the door open for you and you step out, walking down the hall to see Alex in the lobby. She looked at you with a hopeful gaze and you slowly revealed the key card from behind your back. She immediately jumped out of her seat and hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“My best friend is a radio star!” She squealed.

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes when she put you down. “We will see about that.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You as well, Alex. I’ll walk you out,” George said. Gesturing for the door.  

You dug in your pocket and felt what Joe put in your hand earlier. You pulled it out and noticed it was a gum wrapper. Confused, you unravel it to see a note written in red pen.

My number is on the back. Call me and I’ll show you the best place for a celebratory drink. Congratulations.

[welcometojackass2022]

Taking Commissions—Personalized and Kink/Fetish Fics for $10-$15

Figured I’d go ahead and make this official! I’m currently taking commissions. For $10 I’ll write you a personalized smut fic that will be similar to my x reader fics except instead of the reader, you get to choose the name, personality traits and characteristics of the main character; you can use yourself, an OC, anything you want as specifically detailed as you want. You can also choose to have another canon character or person used instead of yourself or an OC (for example, a Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy fic instead of a Harry Potter x Reader fic). I’m also taking commissions for hardcore kink and fetish fics for $15, which can also be personalized upon request. Continue reading for more details!

Fandoms I Take Commissions For:

Jackass (Johnny Knoxville, Dave England, Danger Ehren, Chris Pontius, Steve-O, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Wee Man, Preston Lacy, Stephanie Hodge, Jeff Tremaine, Spike Jonze, Rachel Wolfson, Poopies, Zach Holmes, Jasper Dolphin, Eric Manaka)

Viva La Bam and CKY (Bam, Ryan, Brandon DiCamillo, Rake Yohn, Raab Himself/Chris Raab), Brandon Novak, Tim Glomb, Lord Bottaro, Joe Frantz, Jess Margera, Chad Ginsburg, Deron Miller, Ryan Gee)

Game of Thrones (too many characters to list, just ask upon request)

Harry Potter (pretty much any character, just ask upon request)

Gotham (most characters, just ask upon request)

Shameless (most characters, just ask upon request)

Jimmy Pop and Evil Jared from Bloodhound Gang

Ville Valo from HIM

Any character from Haggard or Minghags

The Mighty Boosh (Vince, Howard, Naboo)

Peep Show (Mark and Jeremy)

IT Crowd (Moss, Jen, Roy, Douglas, Richmond)

Peaky Blinders (most characters, just ask upon request)

Slipknot (all members)

Pretty much any rock band, including Guns N Roses, Motley Crue, and KISS (check my old account @creativewritingpracticestudio for some of my old rock band fics)

Pretty much any British comedian featured on Would I Lie To You, Taskmaster, Big Fat Quiz, 8 Out of 10 Cats, 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown, and Mock the Week

Dead Poets Society (any of the main guys honestly, I’m not picky)

Inbetweeners (most main characters and Mr. Gilbert)

Umbrella Academy (most main characters, ask upon request)

Types of Personalized Fics I’ll Write ($10 Per Fic, $15 if Hardcore Kinks and Fetishes are involved)

Fluff

Smut (angry smut, fluffy smut, jealous smut, anything really)

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Song fics

Drabbles or short concepts

M/F, M/M, F/F, anything goes

Types of Hardcore Kinks and Fetishes I’ll Write For ($15 Per Fic)

Hardcore BDSM (bondage, dom/sub dynamics, mild pain play, punishments, use of gags, sex toys, and bondage gear, etc)

Consensual Non-Consent

Somnophilia

Piss kink, piss play, bladder control, etc

DDLG/MDLB and all variations, but no pedophilia.

Blood Kink and/or weapon play

Roleplay

Breeding Kink and Pregnancy Kink

Belly Kink/Weight Gain Kink (this does include feederism and force-feeding)

Cucking, Threesomes, Sharing, Free Use, Cheating Kink, etc

Degradation and Humiliation (and on the opposite end, Praise Kink and Body Worship)

Impact Play and Mild Pain Play

Foot Fetish

Exhibitionism and Voyeurism

Wax Play and Temperature Play

Tentacles (yeah sure, why not)

Inflation (I highly doubt anyone’s gonna request this but it’s there as an option)

Note: Extremely gross fetishes like scat, farting, armpits, etc are a possibility but you’ll have to make a pretty decent offer, definitely more than $15. Pedophilia, Bestiality, and kinks involving explicit torture/mutilation or murder are out, no matter what you offer.

Please note that all requests for these fics need to either be sent to me in DMs or through a non-anonymous ask (the ask won’t be posted, it’ll just tell me who to DM to send the link to the fic or to ask questions about the fic). Once the fic is completed, I’ll ask you to send the $10 or $15 through Venmo, PayPal or CashApp (preferably Venmo but it’s your choice) and I’ll either send you the link to the document the fic is written on or email you the PDF of the fic. You can also choose to have me post the fic on ao3 and just not state who requested said fic. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I don’t kinkshame or judge and I like to be given as many details as possible to ensure that you get the fic you want.

Also, don’t feel obligated to ask for a commission if you’re one of the people who reads my x reader fics! This is just a way for me to earn some money while I’m in college, I will never demand that any of you ask for a commission. Happy requesting :)

[petermorwood]

People will be taking their Master's or Doctorate in Pratchett Studies, and they'll still miss stuff, or catch some but not all, because there are layers of it, and not all of them are in English.

Consider the Patrician's council-room called the Rats Chamber, so-called because it had a decorative fresco of dancing rats.

Now consider that Ratskammer in German means "Council Chamber".

Now consider that early Stuart England had The Rats Star Chamber, so-called because it had a decorative fresco of, yup, stars.

Now consider that the Star Chamber court often used informers, and a slang term for informing on someone is to rat on them...

All that's in just one throwaway notion which doesn't interfere with the flow if you don't get it, but adds an extra little fillip if you do.

As @dduane says, we'll probably never discover them all. Here's another example:

*****

Unless Irish / British and of a certain age, Lord Vetinari's routine with the donkey stuck up a minaret in "Jingo" will mean nothing, except maybe to prompt recollections of an obscure comment from ancient wizard Windle Poons, "Tuppence More and Up Goes The Donkey!" (which is itself an obscure Victorian street-entertainer's saying).

At the time when the donkey got stuck, Vetinari is in Klatchian disguise with a fez, and says, "Donkey, minaret. Minaret, donkey," whereupon the donkey comes down and a nearby guard says "Just like that?"

Another throwaway. Get it? Got it. Good! But if not, Carry On Pratchetting, because there'll be another one right around the corner (or in a footnote underneath it).

And the actual reference was...?

Tommy Cooper (d. 1984). He was a Welsh stage magician and comedian who, like most UK comics of the time, had catch-phrases. Most notable were "X, Y. Y, X" when setting up an unlikely magic trick involving two utterly mismatched objects, and "Just like that!" when, against all probability, the trick was successful.

When performing, he also wore a fez.

All of which which probably sails past US readers every single time and, as the years go by, sails past an increasing number of UK ones as well.

*****

There's subtle typographic wordplay too. Besides Death SPEAKING IN CAPS, there are - or were, in the UK first editions - various "foreign" typefaces; for instance faux-Hebrew for Golem written "speech", and faux-Arabic for Klatchian.

In "Jingo", once again, there's a little faux-Arabic letter in some words of Captain Carrot's dialogue to indicate he's pronouncing that Klatchian sound correctly.

In "The Fifth Elephant", when he says the name of The Land Beyond The Forest, it's always printed as "Überwald".

However when Lord Vetinari and Commander Vimes say it, the print is "Uberwald".

This isn't a typo - it's to show that Vetinari and Vimes can't (or, knowing Vimes, perhaps won't) pronounce the Umlaut-U correctly...

:->

It’s not a Discworld joke unless you read it, don’t parse it as a joke, and then carry on with your life for ten years until someone stops you to say something like “It’s a pavlovian response because the dog ate a pavlova” and you scream Terry’s name with enough indignant rage you hope it rattles the pillars of the multiverse so wherever his soul is he’ll hear it.

[gothicwidowsworld]

Living room date J.W

The past year had been insane, lockdowns followed by even more lockdown’s, protests, people in their droves downloading and turning to tiktok to get through the year just because some guy decided to nibble on a bat. London was finally opening up again, the city awakening and repairing itself. The fifth and final season of Jack Whitehall’s Travels with my Father was underway and as always Jack couldn’t just pack a bag and go without going through a whole palaver. 

“You’re so dramatic Jack!” the y/h/c young woman teased from her spot on the bed, watching in amusement as the comedian continued to complain and whine as he paced. “Not that bad?! Have you met my Father?” Jack retaliated, his voice high pitched and wavering in exaggerated agitation.  Rolling her y/e/c orbs at her boyfriend, the y/s/c woman leant forward to take the jeans currently in the man’s grasp, simply folding the item and placing it into the comedian's suitcase. “You know I have and you also know you have a tiny habit of being a drama queen.” Y/N stated softly, shooting the dark haired man a sarcastic smile.

 Groaning in response Jack launched himself on the bed, his sudden action crumbling the fresh bed sheets and sending one of the decorative pillows to the ground. “Why couldn’t you come with me?” Jack whined scrunching his nose slightly at his declaration, it wasn’t his first time suggesting the y/h/c young woman joined him but Y/N had repeatedly turned him down, no doubt she’d reject his small request yet again. “Because my darling it’s called ‘Jack Whitehall: Travels with My Father’ not ‘Jack Whitehall: Travels with the girl I somehow managed to convince to be my girlfriend’” Y/N explained with mock seriousness, her y/e/c orbs sparkling in mischief. Pouting the Comedian placed his head in his hands, he was yet again unsatisfied with Y/N’s reasoning. “Plus nobody wants to see my mug on Netflix.” Y/N laughed lightly pulling a face as she shivered slightly at the mere thought of being plastered over multiple screens around the world. “Yeah that’s probably best… I don’t even want to think of all the letters of complaints we’d receive.” Jack replied in jest, quickly rolling to the side to avoid Y/N’s swatting limb. 

“What you said it!” Jack chuckled, bringing his hands to his face to lessen the y/h/c woman’s weak blows. “You weren’t supposed to agree!!” Y/N exclaimed loudly pausing her mild assault, her bright y/e/c orbs focusing intensely on the man’s half shielded face.  “You know maybe it will be good that you’ll be gone for a while… I don’t have to share the covers, and I don't have to watch whatever rubbish you insist on. Might even get some takeout without you…” Y/N pondered aloud ignoring the offended look that settled on the man’s face. “Hm yes maybe a nice Nando’s and some married at first sight… Might even invite Hilary.” Y/N added knowing that adding the woman’s name would goad her boyfriend of three years. 

“You’d get Nando’s without me?!” Jack questioned the woman sadly, his eyes wide. “It’s like being sent off to boarding school again. You don’t love me Y/N/N” Jack cried loudly flopping on his back turning his face away from his girlfriend. “You think you know someone and then they get a Nando's with your mother!” Jack continued dramatically jutting out his bottom lip as he pouted. “Yep boohoo it’s all very sad.” Y/N retaliated with her usually soft spoken voice laced with sarcasm. A peaceful silence fell over the young couple, the gentle English sun’s golden hour rays seeping in through the large window. “What time do you leave tomorrow?” Y/N asked quietly picking up her phone from the bedside table checking the time. “Erm like 9am?” Jack replied his eyebrows furrowed as he wracked his brain for the time schedule his team had sent him. “So enough time for a takeaway and movie night?” Y/N quizzed the English comedian hopefully. “Living room date?” Jack asked gently for clarification mulling over the girls' offer. “Living room date.” Y/N agreed nodding her head a little in excitement even though that man wasn’t currently looking at her.

[imaginealotofthings]

Imagine being the one to make these two crack up...

[wowpindrop]

Romesh Ranganathan | Fairground

For: Frankie

Authors notes: Hey, hope you guya are doing well. It is CRIMINAL how underrated this silly little man is. We need more Rom fics! Hope u like this Frankie :]

Summary: a cute little date with your boyfriend Rom :>

You adjusted your outfit as you glanced upwards at the rides. Happy and terrified reactions emanated from the area , as you filled wirh excitement. The sun beamed down, engulfing you in a light warmth, the perfect summer day.

You and your boyfriend wanted to do something slightly different for a date, the regular dinners becoming ever so slightly repetitive.

"Wow. I'm suprised you're actually here on time."

Your boyfriend, Rom, chuckled next to you. Matching his reaction, as you weren't really known for your ability to get to places on time.

"I dont know whether i should take that personally." You reply, nudging his shoulder in a jokey manner.

He laughed, nudging you back slightly harder, causing you to let out a quiet noise of suprise, which Rom awwed at.

_____________________________________

A while later, you and Rom had headed into the fairground, hands entwined, trying to decide what to do first.

That's when you saw it.

The most beautiful thing you had ever lay eyes on. A prize for a hook-a-duck gazebo close to where you were standing.

Rom let out a quick burst of laughter, causing you to turn to look at him, a look of hope in your eyes. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, using the hand that wasn't holding yours.

He sighed, shaking his head, clearly finding the situation entertaining.

"Fine."

You dashed over to the stall, Rom walking slower behind you. Almost jumping up and down in excitement, you immediately handed over the money to have three goes of fishing out a winning duck to the attendant, who was laughing at your antics.

First try: no luck

Second try: bad luck.

Your final attempt. You glanced at Rom, who had come to stand next to you.

"Do you want me to have the last go?" He whispered in your ear. You handed him the fishing rod, stepping slightly away to give him space. His hands flexed around the stick in concentration, tongue sticking out slightly as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

He caught one.

The attendant headed over to see if the duck was a winner. You rocked back and forth on your feet, barely containing yourself.

It was. You squealed in delight, leaping into Rom's arms to hug him.

He laughed in suprise, returning the hug, as the prize was handed to you. Accepting it, you clasped it to your chest in happiness.

"Thank you!" You screamed.

"Only for you." Rom replied, smiling lovingly down at you.

The best. Date. Ever.

[raisinghellonstarbug]

OK so as I'm not getting personal questions... how about prompts?

I would happily write some prompts for Sastiel, Midam, Dean W or Sam W x reader and British comedian x reader of your choice 😊 just let me know which! Perhaps I would even give Sam Fender x reader a go as I have been wanting to write something for that for ages 😄

Send me one word prompts or even a sentence. That would be awesome!

[jahayla-parker]

Tom Holland Navigation

NAVIGATION TOOLS:

FLUFF: ~

ANGST: *

SMUT: #

Banners below sort fics based on type of work(s)

Premieres: Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Description: Social Media Fic for Tom x GF!Reader at some movie premieres; including No Way Home and Uncharted.

Warnings: None

Picturing Tom: Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Description: Social Media Fic for Tom x GF!Reader where the reader is a photographer; meaning she gets the chance to take photos of Tom often

Warnings: None

Comedic Muse: Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Description: Social Media Fic for Tom x GF!Reader where the reader is a comedian and Tom supports her even when she jokes about him being her muse (also mentions of The Brothers Trust)

Warnings: None

This Sacred Heart: Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Description: Social Media Fic for Tom x GF!Reader where the reader is a singer and the fic shows their relationship dynamics including song(s) about him, etc.

Warnings: None

Crowded : Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Description: Tom Holland Instagram SMAU based off bts for/of his show The Crowded Room. Fluff

Warnings: flirting, I think that's all

Spoiler Stopper : Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Descr: reader is an actor who is dating Tom Holland and tries to stop the king of spoilers from spoiling more details about his Marvel projects. Fluff

Warnings: a few curses, Tom being a div who spoils things, that's all I believe

British Civil War : Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Descr: Smau, Y/n is a major fan of British singer Harry Styles, and it shows on her Instagram. However, her British actor boyfriend Tom Holland is ready to defend his position. Fluff

Warnings: flirting, playfulness, light teasing, shirtless Harry Styles and Tom Holland

Golden Addition : Tom Holland x Reader SMAU ~

Descr: Reader and Tom (established couple) adopt a golden retriever puppy and y/n documents the journey from picking out which puppy to adopt until they get home. Fluff

Warnings: i think a curse word is in there somewhere but otherwise just fluff!

My Darling Queen: Tom Holland x Reader + SMAU ~

Description: 7.4k wc, Tom takes the reader y/n, his girlfriend out for a fancy date night, going out of his way to ensure she has a great night. Contains both a FIC and SMAU

Warnings: Suggestive, implied smut, making out, curse words. 18+ please given material

Waves of Emotions: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 3.7k wc fic of a Co-Star reader (featuring on set interactions) who is friends with Tom but it forms into a romantic relationship; aka Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Fluff mostly so minor warnings of mutual pining, mentions of fake injuries (as part of the filming), and a few curworse

This Isn’t The End: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 1.7k wc, Filming with his crush becomes too real and emotional for Tom during a tense scene causing him to expose his feelings for the reader / y/n.

Warnings: Character death, crying, and a fake hospital scene

Self Care Compromise: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 3.75k wc, Reader/ y/n is dating Tom Holland and once again finds her boyfriend to be overworking himself so she takes matters into her own hands to fix it.

Warnings: None, just fluff (other than brief mentions of being burnt out from working too much)

Buzzing Nerves: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 2.9k wc, Tom is worried his girlfriend y/n won’t react well to him needing to get a buzz cut for his role in Cherry. Y/n makes it a point to reassure him.

Warnings: some minor self doubt, a little suggestive, spoilers for Cherry, cotton candy level fluff that may cause a cavity, one tiny curse word.

Family Date Night: Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: 2.8k wc, Tom and his pregnant wife Y/N try to celebrate the release of Uncharted by going to watch a movie at the theaters that he rented out for them to have some privacy but get interrupted by a fan.

Warnings: some minor self confidence issues, intrusive fans (not respecting personal/family time) hormones, mentions of pregnancy, and Tom being so cute it hurts

Conning Fans at Comic-Con: Tom Holland x Reader~

Description: 1k wc, Tom and his MCU Co-Star/Girlfriend Y/N suprise fans at Comic-Con together

Warnings: none (I think maybe one curse word lol)

More Than Kittens: Tom Holland x Reader~

Description: 3.1k wc, Tom is jealous when the reader, his co-star/actress girlfriend is ignoring him while they do the Buzzfeed kitten interview for their latest film.

Warnings: Minor mentions of PTSD (as part of a movie is all, like 2 lines), Tom being cranky I guess lol.

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay: Tom Holland x Reader ~*

Description: 6.1k wc, the reader, y/n is Tom’s girlfriend and he notices she seems to be under the weather but he soon learns there’s more to it than that. Tom learns about her depression and does everything he can to be there for her as she fights against herself/it. Lots of comfort and care.

Warnings: depression (no su!cide discussed), strong emotions, and feelings of loneliness discussed. Note: Does NOT romanticize depression/mental health (more related disclaimers on fic)

Not The Only Option: Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: 1.9k wc, The reader, y/n and her boyfriend Tom are the leads/co-stars in the remake of Titanic; this is essentially a behind the scenes look at some scenes and banter between each other during filming.

Warnings: a few curse words, titanic events discussed based on the script found here. Otherwise fluff

Spoiling Wonderland: Tom Holland x Reader + SMAU ~

Description: 1.2k wc, Tom and his girflriend y/n are staring as leads in the new Alice in Wonderland remake but it is a secret from the public at first. Tom -in his typical yet adorable manner -spoils his and y/n’s roles in the latest adaption by accident. Contains both a short fic / blurb and SMAU showing the various situations/events that took place during this attempt to keep it a secret and offers a peek at their relationship dynamic.

Warnings: one suggestive comment, Tom spoiling things again, a few curse words.

Stay: Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: 1.6k wc, Fall prompt of “It’s storming too hard to go home, why don’t you spend the night?” With Tom holland and his gf Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

Ghosted: Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: 930wc of Tom and his girlfriend y/n go trick or treating even though they’re not little kids anymore.

Warnings: curse words otherwise fluff

Don’t Touch Us: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 3.4k wc, started based off this and then my adhd took over. Basically Tom’s protective side comes out when the public starts getting more aggressive towards him and the reader.

Warnings: maybe a few curses, aggressive fans, mentions of being tipsy, that’s all I think otherwise just far too fluffy Tommy.

Cannot Be Broken : Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 2.9k wc, reader is dating tom and get into a situation in which overly aggressive and/or eager fans end up hurting her and he has to help take care of it and her.

Warnings: I think two curse words, angry Tom, mention of broken bones and bruises, otherwise fluff

Getting Personal: Tom Holland x Reader #

Description: 13.5k wc smut where Tom falls for his personal assistant y/n and the heat between them is palpable but he struggles given their professional relationship.

Warnings: 18+ smut content, jealousy, p in v, unprotected sex, riding, mentions of orgasm, cum, masterbation, etc. teasing, and similar sexual content

Warmth : Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 41.k wc fluff fic for the prompt “let’s get you out of these wet clothes”. Y/n’s boyfriend cheats on her and her best friend Tom is there to help her through it.

Warnings: mentions of reader’s boyfriend cheating, angst, breakups, confessions, kissing, pining, a few curse words I think.

Dents and Dinners : Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: 4.78k wc, Tom injures Reader and takes her to dinner to apologize and keep an eye on her during the early hours of her recovery. Minor injury, fluff, meet cute, first date, hurt-comfort

Warnings: minor injury/concussion, mention of doctors/hospitals/related, a couple curse words, I think that’s it!

Aches and Loss : Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 2.1k wc, Tom Holland helps reader through the loss of her aunt. Hurt-comfort.

Warnings: mentions of death, funerals, Catholicism, and related topics.

Crazed: Tom Holland × Reader *~

Description: 8k wc, A crazed fan breaks into Tom's house when his girlfriend is home and she has to defend herself until Tom's security gets there.

Warnings: curse words, violence, stalker/crazy fan behavior, hostage situation, threats, danger, mentions of a break-in, (minor) injuries, hospital (brief), knife/blade, keys used as weapon.

Uncharted Territory : Tom Holland x Reader*~

Description: 9.1k wc, Reader finds herself working on the set of one of Tom's movies in an attempt to escape her stalker. Only, it seems she can't outrun her troubles even in another country. This means y/n and Tom find themselves in uncharted territory as they try to navigate their way through the ordeal. Dark, stalker, hurt comfort, protective, injury comfort, angst to fluff. Happy ending.

Warnings: dark theme(s), violence, curse words, guns and gunshots, wounds/injuries, blood/ bleeding, stalkers, stalker behavior, break-ins, and related.

TikTok Prank Preference: Stuck Tampon ~

Description: blurb preference based on the viral TikTok prank where the person pretend they have a tampon stuck and need their partner to help them to see how they react.

Warnings: mentions of period related items and topics, minimally suggestive words, otherwise fluff

Period Simulator: Tom Holland x Reader Preference ~

Description: 530 wc blurb/preference (Tom is listed 1st) of him trying a period simulator to understand what his GF!Reader Y/N experiences

Warnings: pain, stupid boys, and, a few curses.

Happily Ever After: Tom Holland x Reader ~

Description: Blurb/headcanon and small fic for Tom Holland based on the Happily Ever After character series of fics. This covers topics such as the proposal, wedding planning, who is in the wedding party, etc. leading up to -and including- the wedding day!

Warnings: anxiety/nerves, proposal, weddings, marriage, budgeting/finances, family

“You’re Supposed to Be Dead” : Prompt Preference

Description: "You're supposed to be dead", "Yeah, sorry about that" prompts; enemies to lovers

Warnings: mentions of fake characters/roles deaths

Very British : Tom Holland Blurb ~

In Time : Tom Holland x Reader COMPLETED Series

Series Description: Reader is a cashier at a grocery store in Atlanta and crosses paths with Tom while he's in the area filming No Way Home. Tom quickly falls for y/n but she has a boyfriend. Does/will y/n feel the same? Will they ever end up together? Are they destined to be friends or something more? Fluff, comfort, hurt-comfort, angst, strangers-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, etc.

Series Warnings: cursing, some spice/suggestive content, brief mentions of previous smut/sex but not actually written, toxic boyfriend behavior, minor aggression/violence, arguments, self doubt, mean fans, food/eating, breakups, pining, kissing and related romantic behaviors, and mentions of cheating. Please let me know if I missed anything!

The Master : Tom Holland x Reader COMPLETED Series

Series Description: Reader is the prop master for Uncharted. She therefore meets Tom on set and soon they're falling for each other. But will things burn out before filming is over? Or will they be able to make it? Fluff, some hurt-comfort and angst-to-fluff

Series Warnings: flirting and pining of course, manipulative 'friends", reader can't swim (& falls into ocean very briefly), gift gifting, birthdays, (briefly mentioned) creepy man, mentions of alcohol, SEE WARNINGS for Part 8 separately below,

Notes: Reader's ethnicity (Latina) and age are briefly mentioned in part 7 but rest of the story is meant to read as a reader insert still.

Red Flag (Mini-Series / Two-Part Fic): Tom Holland x Reader *~

Series Moodboard / Aesthetic Concept

Part 1- Tom’s One Red Flag: Tom Holland x Reader *

Description: 3.1k wc, Tom’s GF!Reader only ever saw one red flag when it comes to Tom. His dad (using Tom’s fame for his own agenda without offering real support). Will they be able to keep pushing through when this glowing red flag begins waving between them?

Warnings: Angst, cursing, Tom’s dad

Part 2- Red Flag Recovery: Tom Holland x Reader *~

Description: 5.1k wc, Part 2 to Tom’s One Red Flag . AKA the resolution and happy ending.

Warnings: mentions of grief and strong emotions, weapons/violence used to describe feelings, a few curse words, counseling, family drama, manipulation discussion

Tom Holland’s Characters’ Navigation Masterlists:

Nathan Drake Navigation

Spider-Man & Peter Parker Navigation

Request Info (Details)

Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking 

Part Summary: Sam hosts a party and Y/N makes a not-so-great acquaintance of a certain rock star.

Masterlist

Sam’s house is filled with people. I know the majority of the partiers, the rest I can recognize from whatever field of entertainment they’re in. The music is blasting over the speakers and the voices fill the remaining space.

I search around for him. I manage to find him in the family room on the couch. He’s chatting with a group of people, including Penelope. I make my way over, shuffling between bodies. When I appear out from within the crowd, Sam gleams.

“You made it!”

“I did!” I giggle.

We hug and he introduces me to the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Cara.”

As if I don't know who Cara Delevigne is, I may be busy but I don't live on Mars. I smile at her kindly. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I’m a huge fan of your work on TSL!” She gushes, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Seasons of Life is often shortened to TSL, just a side note.

Cara’s accent is so pretty! She’s already a model then she has to have a British accent as if she wasn’t perfect enough!

“Aw, thank you so much!”

Sam slips by me. “I’m going to go get us a drink!”

"Oh wait, Sam!"

“I know what to do!” He shouts back without stopping. I should know better. With how much time we spend together, he would know my order.

“That kid,” I sigh to Penelope and Cara.

The two giggle and we go on to talk about this and that. Fun enough, Cara leaves for Paris tomorrow for a fashion show. Must be exciting to travel so often and to wear the most amazing clothes. She’s quite funny. Her personality is so vibrant and warm. I can see us being good friends.

A loud voice echoes through the house and the three of us look toward the archway to see who it’s coming from. Bodies block the view so I turn my attention back to the girls. Penelope and I discuss the photoshoot in two days and Cara talks about her experiences with Vanity Fair.

“Hey, Cara!” A voice greets behind me.

I don't turn around, but I can feel their energy hovering over me. They shuffle to stand right beside me. I glance up, but can't recognize them.

Cara stands up to hug them. “Good to see you! How are you?” She keeps him in an embrace.

“Great, great!” The guy, who’s back is to me for some reason seems familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“You know Sam?” She questions as they part.

“Not really, I came with a few friends.”

I look over at Penelope for a hint as to who it could be. She shrugs and watches the two interact.

“Speaking of, have you seen him? I should say hi.” The man asks.

“He went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and Y/N.”

The man turns around and he peers down at me on the couch. I should’ve guessed it… MGK. The hair and a million tattoos should've been a dead giveaway. That bright blonde mess of a hairstyle.

“Colson, this is Y/N Voss,” Cara introduces us.

He glances down at me with a smile. “We’ve met actually,” he claims.

My head tilts, I can’t recall when we've met properly.

“Today after I performed on James’s show,” he describes, towering over me.

“Oh! Awesome!” Cara sits back down next to me.

All I can do is stare at Colson in confusion. “If you count glancing at one another from across the room once as meeting,” I reply a bit snarky.

He gives me a toothy grin and eases down onto the cushion ottoman right across from me. “It was more than one glance,” he argues.

“You would know, you’re the one that never looked away," I fire back.

Cara and Penelope exchange a glance, snicker, then leave the scene together. They offer their goodbye before giggling away. They're smart.

Colson seems to have not noticed or at least doesn’t care. He moves to take Cara's spot on the cushion next to me. “You would’ve had to been looking to have noticed that I never looked away.”

My head rolls back, with a mocking laugh. “Well aren’t you a genius!”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “I like to think so.”

“One vodka tonic.” Sam interrupts, holding out my drink.

I take it bitterly. "Thanks."

“Sam huh?” Colson stands up and the two shake hands. “I’m Colson, nice to officially meet you, man!”

Sam treats him like an old friend which annoys the heck out of me. Colson so far has only shown his arrogance to me. “You too! Great seeing you today at the show. Your performance was amazing.”

“Thanks, your interview was hilarious!” Colson fakes charming better than some actors.

“You watched?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I stuck around just off-camera. You two are great!”

Watching these two talk each other up is a bromance waiting to happen.

Sam gestures to me with his glass. “Y/N here is the real comedian. There’s never a dull moment with her."

“I'm sure.” Colson peers down at me with a bright smile. "We’ve only just met and she’s already sparked a debate with me.”

I narrow my eyes at Colson, what’s he trying to start?

Sam settles down on the ottoman where Colson was. “What about?” He is all for the conversation and is jumping headfirst into the tiff between us.

Colson smiles but I see the mischief in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a debate” I rise to my feet in front of the boys. “If you would excuse.” I step away from the couch a little irked.

“Oh come on now Baby, I’m only joking,” Colson calls not bothered.

“Oh no,” Sam laughs behind me. “Best not call her that or any pet names for that matter. She hates them!”

I don’t even acknowledge them on my walk out of the room. Cocky, annoying, ugh! It’s been maybe five minutes and he’s already managed to irritate me. Maybe all the things they write in the tabloids about him are true. A spoiled, arrogant, womanizing jerk. A piece of the worst parts of the industry. I'm going to go find the girls and stay far away from Colson Baker.

________________________________________

On the set of the Vanity Fair shoot, the atmosphere is lively and carefree. The theme is an 80’s vintage style and since it’s coming back the magazine is mixing old with the new. Sam and I are in an old-fashioned record store and it’s wicked! The walls are teal and remind me of an old Taco Bell. There are rows and rows of just vinyl records. My hair is teased in an 80’s rock band kind of hairstyle. 80s music has been playing on set all morning to set the mood. I'm living for it!

A lady approaches me with a huge light wash denim jacket.

“No way! I get to wear this!” I gush.

She helps me put it on and I’m dying from how awesome this shoot is.

I immediately go to Sam's trailer. “Sam! I’m rocking the denim on denim look!” I show off my high-waisted light wash denim shorts with a black bulky leather belt around my waist.

He laughs. “I appreciate the denim on denim but I have to say my favorite part is the old Bon Jovi T.”

The photographer, Adam, comes up with this brilliant idea for me to stand on the crates of records. Where the two rows in the middle of the store meet, there’s enough room for me to stand. Once I’m up there and I can find the balance in these red heels, they have Sam join me.

“Sam, grab her leg and look up at her as though you’re keeping an eye on her,” Adam instructs.

The camera flashes and between snaps, I change my facial features.

“Good! Good! Let’s get some shots from the counter!”

Sam helps me down from the crates and I hop down. We get a shot of me laying across the counter with a red sucker in my hand and Sam hovering over me. This shoot is incredibly fun and I can’t wait to see the finished product.

Sam and I change outfits and Adam asks if he can get a video for the website and YouTube channel. Of course, we said yes. It’ll be a montage of an interview of us individually and then of us just messing around throughout the store with 80’s music playing in the background. Adam has me sit on an 80’s style floral couch they set up in front of a backdrop in the back room. The whole setup is very comfortable and intimate. Only us, a few lights and a camera with the radio playing. Sam is in makeup and dress for the part of the video of us being candid.

“You can sit however you like!” Adam instructs, meaning I’m sitting too formal with my posture straight and legs crossed. “Act like we’re just hanging out or something.”

I adjust myself and crisscross my legs, slouching a bit.

“Much better!” he compliments, staring down at the camera. He hits up on a stool and positions his camera on the stand. “What’s it like to be on the cover of Vanity Fair?”

“The whole experience is unreal! I remember having a subscription to Teen Vogue growing up. My friends and I loved them!”

“Would you describe your style as modern or classic?”

“Classic for sure!” I gush.

Adam snickers. “What’s your favorite decade for fashion?”

I laugh and gesture down at my outfit. “The 80’s.”

“Does anyone from the 80’s inspire your style in particular?”

I tap the tips of my fingers together and hum. “That’s a toughy! I guess I would have to say Demi Moore for the hair. Specifically, her haircut from About Last Night… that’s where I got the style for my hair actually. Another big one would be Cindy Crawford, such a fashion icon!” I could talk about fashion all day and the icons idolize.

“Heels or sneakers?”

“Depends on the occasion. Sneakers for everyday things, I could never live without my trusty Converse. Yet, I would wear heels if I’m dressing it up a bit.”

"Are you more of a girly-girl or tomboy?”

“People who know me well would say I’m a girly-girl but I also don’t mind downplaying it from time to time. I’ve gotten better lately at relaxing and no being so “on” all the time.”

“Hair up or down?”

“Half up, half down,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully looking into the camera.

Adam chuckles behind the camera. He changes topics. “You’re from South Carolina originally...”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of home, but I hide behind a smile. “That I am.”

“You haven’t been back in almost a year, do you miss it?”

I play with the ends of my hair, examining my lap. Avoiding the camera lens. I look at anywhere but there. “If I were to miss anything about South Carolina, it would be the gorgeous landscape and southern food."

“You have three siblings, correct?” Adam asks next.

“I do, an older brother and sister, then a younger brother.” I list.

“What do they think about the show and your career?”

I nod. “They support me but the distance is hard. As you said, we haven’t all been together in almost a year.”

“Do you have any plans to go visit home soon?”

I sigh, “sadly no, my work keeps me quite busy.”

The interview goes on and we discuss how my style has evolved since I was a teen starting out in the business. I’ll admit, the topics about home and family sucked. Work and personal life are two separate jobs, my worlds can’t collide. I never bring South Carolina into it.

______________________________________________

After the shoot, I received a call from Cara when we were finishing up the photoshoot. Last night, Cara, Penelope, and I had a blast! I completely forgot about the whole tiff with Colson once I reached them in the kitchen. Since then, we’ve been three peas in a pod. While we were talking on the phone, she invited Sam and me to dinner at The Ivy.

“A small gathering of friends,” she told me and asked for us to be there by seven.

Jump ahead to now and Sam is parallel parking the car. I hop out and wait on the sidewalk for Sam to walk around. Our hands' interlock and the paparazzi take notice of us when people on the sidewalk pull out their phones.

“Y/N! SAM! SAM! OVER HERE!”

“HOW’S FILMING GOING?”

“It’s good to be back on set!” I cover my eyes with my clutch.

“YOUR INTERVIEW WITH JAMES CORDEN WAS GREAT!”

“SOCIAL BLEW UP AFTER THE INTERVIEW!”

Sam asks for the guys to make a path so we can get through without issues. He releases my hand and presses his palm to my lower back protectively.

“WE’VE ALREADY SEEN Cara AND PENELOPE GO IN!”

“A FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY!”

“ARE YOU ALL MEETING UP?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” I look into one of the video cameras and wink.

The guy behind it gets a hoot out of my expression.

Sam and I reach the restaurant and the men let us go in unbothered.

“WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE TO YOUR DINNER!”

“Thanks guys, see you later!” I wave to them and their cameras shoot rapidly.

The noise dies down when we go back further into the restaurant. Sam spots Cara in the back and guides me back there. Tables are lined up in a long row and the majority of the seats are filled.

Cara, cool as a cucumber pulls me into a hug. “Hey Y/N! So glad you two could come!” She sits Sam and me across from each other near the middle. She insisted that I sit by her so we could chat. We get to talking about the Vanity Fair shoot today then she’s pulled away when another guest arrives.

The waitress comes up behind me and requests my drink order.

“I’ll have a sweet tea please.”

“We only serve unsweetened.”

I hate it when they say that. “That’s fine, thank you!” Sam eyes me and I pout about having no sweet tea.

“You realize there’s sugar right here.” He slides me the packets of sugar.

“Yes but it’s not the same. There’s sweet tea at every restaurant where I’m from and I come here boom! Sweet tea is nonexistent!”

"What’s the drink that’s carbonated?” He’s asking to be annoying because the west coast and the midwest disagree on the name.

“Pop!” I glare at him.

“That’s right! Pop! Sounds like you’re saying pot every time.” He laughs at his own joke, finding himself humorous.

“It’s soda by the way," he corrects.

“Uh uh,” I refuse to change my ways, “it’s pop.”

The empty chair next to me slides back and when I glance up to see who’s doing it, an instant headache hits my brain.

Sam greets Colson warmly with a handshake. I shoot Sam another glare. He’s acting neutral but that shouldn’t be a choice in this case. He was my friend first!

Colson removes black Ray-Bans from his face and positions them on top of his head.

“Hello Y/N.” Colson sends me one of his charming grins so many teen girls swoon over.

“Hi,” I reply, not attempting to hide my disinterest. I curve my body away from him and towards Cara, legitly giving him the cold shoulder.

The dinner goes on without a hitch surprisingly, considering the circumstances. Penelope leans down over the back of my chair to say our goodbyes.

I turn around in my chair to face her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya,” she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

She and I exchange kisses on the cheek. “Love you!” We say in unison as we part.

“Later Sam!” She wiggles her fingers at him in a wave.

Sam and I stick around a while longer since Cara and I have gotten into a deep conversation about our shared love for vintage things. A conversation about our collections of records alone went on for twenty minutes. I hadn't noticed that it was just four of us now. Sam and Colson have been talking most of the dinner.

A pair of hands rest on my shoulders and steal my attention away from Cara. “Y/N, you ready to go?” Sam asks.

“We’ll head out too!” Cara announces with her sights directed behind me.

I look over my shoulder and Colson is standing beside Sam. The four of us walking out together… how convenient.

I grab my clutch, sticking close to Sam to dodge Colson.

The four of us walk toward the front of the restaurant and right when we reach the steps leading outside, Cara announces that she forgot her purse.

“I’ll be right back!” She urges us to go on without her.

The cameras waited for us as I assumed they would. They’re capturing every minute of us waiting for Cara.

I place my hand on Sam’s shoulder, “would you go help her?”

“You sure?” His eyes flicker between me and Colson.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him and he promises he’ll only be a second.

“Go to the car so you aren’t bothered,” he refers to the paparazzi.

“I’ll walk her,” Colson offers.

Sam gives him the go-ahead as he goes off to help in the search for the purse.

I’m left with the one guy I was avoiding. I grip the keys in my hand and walk down the brick steps to the sidewalk. I hear Colson behind me and stop to address him. “I can walk myself to the car.”

He raises his arms mocking a surrender. “I don’t doubt your ability to walk, just helping out.”

“I don’t need your help,” I scoff, starting to walk again.

“I never said you did,” Colson sassily replies.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

A man runs around me to get a photo of me straight on.

“Y/N! Y/N! WALKING IN WITH SAM AND LEAVING WITH MGK, ANY EXPLANATION?”

I pause for a moment, making eye contact with the man behind the camera. Is he honestly trying to start drama? What lies are he going to sell? I’m only going to the car because Sam requested. The only reason Colson is even near me is that he’s so freaking persistent.

I push back the aggravation and force my lips into a kind smile. I can’t have a single moment of weakness. I can’t give in to my emotions like others. “Sam is helping Cara with something inside. Colson was kind enough to walk me to the car.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS KNOWN EACH OTHER?”

I purposefully answer quickly so Colson doesn’t even have the chance to think of a response. “Not long, we met the other day backstage at The Late Late Show. We have a lot of the same friends and had no idea!” I peek over at Colson and he gives me a knowing look. I dismiss it and go on with my charade. I will not let this jerk mess with my career.

“ANY CHANCE OF HAVING COLSON GUEST STAR ON THE SHOW?”

“That would be great!” I lie my butt off, “having more friends on set would be fun!”

“COLSON, HOW’S YOUR NEW ALBUM COMING ALONG?!”

“We’re in the recording stage right now. Should be released sometime this summer," he answers.

“FOLLOWING UP WITH A TOUR?”

“Of course!” he chuckles.

I unlock the car and move around the guys to reach the door.

“WE’LL LET YOU GUYS GO ON. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT!” One of them departs.

“Thank you! You too!” I wave goodbye.

Some stick behind to get a few last pictures but for the most part, they all disburse. The ones remaining, however, keep their distance.

I yank on the handle of the door and Colson holds it for me. As if he's a gentleman. I begin to climb in, prepared to yank it shut in his face.

“Friends huh?” Colson chuckles.

I turn around abruptly and check around the general area of the sidewalk for any cameras. Seems the remainder of the guys have left. I shut the door and Colson removes his hand in a rush.

“No, not friends! I only said that to please the public," I huff.

“Ouch!” he acts offended, placing his hand on his heart. “I did find it interesting that you claimed we met backstage the other day so I was right!” He chuckles, believing he caught me.

“No, no, no, no!" I shut that thought down quickly. "The only reason I made that up was that it’s not good for my image if I admit I was at a party. People tend to assume that heavy drinking and drugs occur at parties. I can’t be associate with that scene!”

“Oh, so it’s alright to lie?” He crosses his arms and snickers, glancing down the street toward the restaurant.

I roll my eyes, of course, he doesn’t understand, why would he? “You don’t get it” I scoff, dismissing him. I turn and reach for the car handle again.

“So what if you were at a party? People drink, if some have a problem with that, that’s their problem. Oh! I forgot! You're America's Sweetheart! The perfect angel princess with a spotless record,” he mocks.

I slam the car door shut, having hit my limit. I keep my voice hush. “It’s not that simple! I'm not like you! I can't be caught partying! If the country, the world, sees the truth then my image is ruined! I've been doing this since I was a teenager! I worked way too hard for far too long to lose everything over a stupid mistake!”

Colson’s face falters from his usual carefree expression to one of seriousness.

“Found it! Let’s go!” Sam announces loudly to the whole block.

I toss him the keys and glance back to Colson who stands there in a stillness I have yet to see from me. His stare makes me want to hide. I feel as though I’m under a microscope being studied.

“Toodaloo Y/N! ‘Till next time my pals!” Cara strolls down the sidewalk.

It’s evident she’s had a couple of drinks. She sways further down the sidewalk and comes to a stop once she notices Colson isn’t following.

“Later Cara!” Sam shouts over the top of the car behind me.

Colson and I stare at each other I’m guessing for different reasons. He appears lost in thought and I’m desperately trying to figure out why. If I look away, I fear he’ll break to pieces or something.

Cara pauses. “Colson? You coming?”

He holds out for a moment but finally breaks eye contact with me. "Yeah."

When I’m no longer staring into those black works of art I regain my ability to move. I hurry into the car and Sam says his goodbyes again over the top of the car. I buckle my seatbelt when he climbs in. Watching strangers walk up and down the sidewalk, I’m perfectly aware of Sam starring me down.

He pulls onto the street. “Are we gonna talk about it or are we doing silence?”

I reach over and turn up the radio.

“Of course you make your own option.” Sam watches me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

We come in at the end of a song and the next one is oh too recognizable. The classic rock sound that is a part of all of Colson’s music plays through the car speakers. His vocals enter the soundwave and I groan loudly over the music before turning off the radio.

"No music then!" I snap.

__________________________________

Masterlist

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[imaginesbymonika]

Pure Honey | Chapter One

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Plot: Certain types of love are everywhere, some are more accepted than others- or at least that’s what he thinks.

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter before | PH Masterlist

Song to listen to while reading:

Pedro told himself he wasn't the type of person to have celebrity crushes. He considered himself to be too old for something like that. He didn't want to be a creep by stating that he would want to date a twenty-something-year-old woman. He remembered having a discussion about that when he was 32 years old and now at almost 50, he told himself that there was an uncompromising line that he would never ever cross. He also didn't want to be torn to shreds by the internet for something like that. After all, the internet never forgets.

But then the weirdest thing happened…

"So what? I am a gap filler?", Pedro asked as he stared down at the ticket:" The Arctic Monkeys? That's not a real band name." He didn't have to look at Sarah in order to know that she was rolling her eyes at him. "First of all, I didn't initially ask you to come with me because I knew you would say something about their name, you old moper. And second of all, Louise is sick. She has the flu or something- also, can't you be happy about the fact that you were my number two? The second she told me she wouldn't be able to make it, I immediately called you."

Pedro scoffed. "You can stay in the car if you want to."

He was unaware that going to that concert would fundamentally change his life.

Y/N's moans are still on a loop in the back of his mind as he makes his way through the foyer and out of the building. Y/N didn't say it. She didn't see herself in any position to even think about it…but sometimes she couldn't help it. Some mornings she would stare at the back of his head and feel like Pedro's dirty little secret. Obviously, he wouldn't call her that. He was way too sweet for that. But at the end of the day, she just wanted him to be hers. So desperately that she could start shaking.

"Welcome to our show.", James Cordon says and the young woman shifts in her seat a few times before she turns to look at the late-night host:" How are you doing?" She smiles:" I am great, thank you for having me." Of course." "The last few days have been very hectic, the boys and I have been working nearly nonstop on perfecting our record. For a second we were worried that we would never finish it, but luckily we sent it out this morning."

At that the crowd cheers. "So it will be out..?" "Next Friday!"

"Let's talk about this album for a minute." James says:" One of the songs has been released as a single two days ago. It is called 'Stop the world I wanna get off with you'. I'd like to recite a line if that's okay with you?" Y/N simply nods at that. The British comedian clears his throat:" So you sing:" Eyes the color of water left in mud", now, considering how there are currently a lot of rumors swirling around about you and one actor in particular who has eyes that have a color of water left in mud-." The audience chuckles. "Are there or are there not any connections?"

"Wouldn't that be a bit of a stretch?", Y/N asks and while she leans back she can feel how her heart begins to beat much faster. Was she shaking? Shit. Of course, it was about Pedro. Almost the entirety of AM is about him. "But no, I am so sorry to disappoint you, but it isn't about Pedro Pascal." A few dissatisfied 'ohs' leave the audience which makes her laugh.

"I haven't seen him since that after-show party.", she lies. "I don't really believe you, I don't know why."

"You are so beautiful.", Pedro's voice is smooth as he kisses the skin under her ear:" So fucking gorgeous." Y/N is confident that no one could ever have a matching effect on her. She doesn't fully get it. They have been together for a while now and she couldn't imagine a life without him in it. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that their time was limited and shit, and she really hopes she is wrong.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Healthy Competition***

Regé-Jean Page x Reader x Trevor Noah

Warning: Cursing. SMUT. Threesome. NSFW AT ALL. DP. Oral.

Words: 5k

Summary: Non-Covid world. End of Summary.

Note: I cannot be stopped. This is my first dip into either of these two on here. I tried to talk myself out of this, but I have no self-control. This is probably an acquired taste, but fuck it, I wrote this for my sanity.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG ❤️❤️

 **Loosely Edited/Proofread**

 **Slightly Interactive**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “A toast to Regé, our good friend who we’re out celebrating tonight. Every guy should hide their girlfriends tonight because Mr. Steal your girl has arrived,” Trevor teased.

 Regé snorted and dropped his head back, laughing at his friend of almost ten years. He was absolutely ridiculous.

“Mate, you think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

 Trevor shrugged, “I mean, I am the comedian here, so--.”

 He shook his head. “You’re not a very good one,” he teased back.

 “Well, your tastes are slightly askew than the rest of the world. You are British after all,” Trevor quipped, making him and their shared friends bust out laughing.

 “Oh, shut up. You’re the only one who has a problem with me being British, though we all know my Zimbabwean side would outperform your watered-down South African any day. The ladies prefer full strength over all else,” he slid home.

 Trevor laughed loudly, slinking to the side as he snickered. He knew he had him but knew Trevor would have some comeback. This was their usual banter.

 “Why do I smell a wager coming on? I feel like you’re saying you can get any woman in here to choose you over me.”

 He knocked back his drink with a smile. “Maybe I am saying it.”

 He watched Trevor gulp down his drink as their friends looked at each other with a cautious eye.

 “All right, enough. Y'all remember the last time this happened,” Adam interjected.

 “The last time? How about every time,” Marcus added before he took a sip from his glass.

 “Remember that girl in Brazil, that one we met on Ipanema Beach, she owned the beach shack,” Adam reminded.

 He remembered, and a few seconds after he did, he saw when Trevor did. His snickers returned.

 “There was nothing wrong there,” Trevor pointed out.

 “Yeah, because you won, proceeded to rub it in all night.”

 “You couldn’t even bother to close the door of the shack. You just wanted me to hear her,” he said, shaking his head as the memory washed over him.

 They’d gone back and forth with her all night. Each of them laid their game out, charmed her, put in their best work. He went to grab them all another round of beers and came back, and her small shack was shaking as her moans filled the night sky. Trevor’s laugh brought him out of his thoughts, making him roll his eyes.

 “See, that’s why we’re not doing this,” Marcus finished.

 “You’re not still salty about that, Regé, are you?”

 He shook his head and raised his hands. “Not at all. you win some, and lose some.”

 “One day, the two of you are going to pull this on someone who will make you two the competition,” Adam professed, making he and Trevor laugh.

 “It’s not like we swindle anyone, there is consent, and everyone knows what to expect and not expect,” he threw out as he stood.

 “Where you going?”

 “Refill,” he said, holding his glass up to show its empty state.

He walked out of their section of the VIP area toward the VIP bar slipping through the crowd, making sure to not bump into anyone. When he was mere steps from the bar, someone bumped him from behind, sending him lunging forward, knocking into the back of someone else. He heard a gasp and automatically thought he’d spilled someone’s drink. Sliding beside the stranger, he leaned closer.

 “I’m so sorry.”

 You turned to him, pulling an oversized candy cane from your mouth. Instantly his eyes dropped to your mouth and that candy cane that slowly revealed itself to be several inches long. When he clocked that it was about seven inches or so that you’d pulled out of your mouth, he lost every single thing he was thinking, even his bloody name.

 “Mmm, almost went too far,” you said, with a smile before you put the tip of the candy cane into your mouth. He instantly wanted to put something too far.

 He watched you raise your glass to your lips before you put it back to the bar’s surface, and in went the candy cane. He was speechless, and it was something that rarely happened.

 “Uh—I’m—sorry.”

 You smirked and swiveled the stool to face him again and perched the candy cane to the side of your plump painted lips, and spoke. “You said that already.”

 The way the red, white, and green colors of the candy cane looked with your lipstick made him wonder how other things looked with it. Clearing his throat, he looked away to behind the bar where all the bottles of liquor rested. He wasn’t trying to decide on what he wanted to drink. He was trying to gain some composure.

 He heard your snort beside him. “Cat got your tongue?”

 He looked to you, zeroed in on your eyes, and rose a brow. “What’s got your tongue?”

 You smiled slowly, then pulled out that damned candy cane making your lips make that juicy puckered kiss sound.

 “This candy cane at the moment.”

 You stared at him as if silently daring him to say something to it. He smiled and nodded his head. “You brought a candy cane to a club?”

 “It came with the drink,” you said, bringing the confection to the red-tinted liquid before you.

 He watched you stir the liquid and return the candy cane to its rightful place—against your tongue for you to lick it slowly. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. It was a damn candy cane.

 “What can I get you?”

 Before he could speak, you did.

 “You look like a fun guy no matter what that crisp accent says. May I?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then shrugged before he motioned for you to go ahead. You trailed the candy cane along your bottom lip as you looked over the bottles that lined the wall. You looked like you were in deep thought, and he made a note of how adorable you looked with your perfectly crinkled eyebrows, pursed lips, and fist resting on your jaw.

 “Okay, I just need to know two things,” you began.

 He smirked and sat on the stool next to you. “And what is that?”

 You turned to him again. The crossing of your legs brought his eyes down to see the tempting split in the dress you wore. The luster of your skin raised the temptation he was feeling. He imagined how his hand looked on your body. It was the wrong thought at the wrong time because it made it impossible for him to look into your eyes again. He did, though, and when he did, he saw the mischievous glint in your eyes. He knew then, you were dangerous.

 “Your name and favorite color.”

 “Why my favorite color?”

 “If you tell me red, chances are you like strawberry undertones. If blue, maybe a blueberry or blackberry.”

 “What if it’s orange?”

 “Then we should end this conversation now and go our separate ways because no one can pull off orange anything.”

 He snorted and laughed. He liked you.

 “Safe to say red is yours?” he nodded to your drink as his clue.

 “Wrong, but this is about you. So tell me.”

 “Regé and grey.”

 Your eyes widened. “Regé as in reggae music?”

 He nodded but didn’t speak.

 “Wow, nice. I thought it was something stuffy like Albert.”

 “Just ’cause I’m British?”

 You smiled and shrugged. “And your favorite color, Regé, is grey.” I’m tempted to say grey isn’t a color, but okay. He’ll have that fifty shades of grey cocktail you tried to give me earlier.”

 “Uh-oh, something fruity, huh.”

 “Let’s add an extra shot for Mr. adventurous,” you added.

 Turning his attention to you, he licked his lips and watched you devour that candy cane.

 “What’s your name?”

 You smiled and pulled the candy out of your mouth. “Y/N.”

 He held his hand out for yours and waited for you to take it. Once you did, he shook it, never taking his eyes off of yours.

 “You’re beautiful,” he said.

 You didn’t speak for several moments, and he wondered if he should have kept that to himself.

 “Yes,” you said.

 “Yes? Yes, what?”

 You sucked the candy cane back into your mouth and took a sip of your drink. “Yes, I’ll let you buy me another drink.”

 Ten minutes came and went, then fifteen, and he was in no hurry to go back to his friends. Your conversation was entertaining and titillating. You held his attention easier than any other had. Not to mention everything you did had his heart pounding. Once you’d finished that damn candy cane, your glass was what brought his attention to your mouth. When the drinks were finished, his eyes roamed your exposed shoulders, cleavage, and thigh until his palms itched to touch.

 “I see what’s been holding you hostage, over here.” Trevor’s hand rested on his shoulder as he stood to there to his left.

 “Hostage? Hardly,” you responded with a smile.

 “I’m Trevor,” he said, holding his hand out to you.

 After a few seconds, you took it and let him shake it.

 “Trev here is a good friend of mine,” he began before taking a sip of his third drink. “Meet Y/N.”

 Trevor smiled again. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

 He couldn’t help but smile. He knew the game had begun. However, he’d had a twenty-minute head start. He watched Trevor order you another drink before suggesting you moved from the bar to go back to their section. You didn’t answer right away, and he didn’t know what you’d decide.

 “I’ll meet you there. I have to freshen up,” you said, pointing toward where the restrooms were.

 He pointed to where their section was before you walked off.

 “May the best African win,” Trevor said, holding out his hand, making him roll his.

  ~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

You made sure to reapply your lipstick and rearrange your hair as you inspected your face. Pleased that your products were holding up, you stood there just staring at yourself, making a plan. They thought they were slick, you thought to yourself.

 MSG Fifi: He looked hooked.

 You smirked.

 MSG: He’s hot.

MSG Fifi: So is his friend. What’s the plan?

 You thought for a few moments because you hadn’t decided yet.  

 MSG: I’m going to go have a little fun. I’ll let you know.

 You adjusted your dress then walked out of the bathroom. In the loud club again, you looked around, trying to remember when they’d pointed. You didn’t remember. Suddenly you felt a body behind you and a hand on your hip.

 “Lost?”

 The sexy British accent told you just who it was. Smiling, you bit your bottom lip, deciding you liked how he felt pressed up on you.

 “What if I said I was?”

 You could feel his breath at your ear and smell the hint of grape and vodka.

 “I’ll find anything you want me to,” Regé groaned, making you tilt your head back to look at him over your shoulder.

 “Anything?”

 He smirked then licked his lips. “I’m not if not a gentleman. Anything, Y/N.”

 The look in his eyes had you frozen in place, wishing he’d bring his large hand lower. You scoffed and got yourself under control

 “Good to know,” you said before walking away, leaving him to follow behind you.

 Once Regé led you to the VIP section, Trevor stood holding your drink to you. Having not been born yesterday, you asked a passing waitress for a fresh drink. Neither of them took offense. When you sat, you were in the middle of both men and able to appreciate the beauty that you both were. They could have passed for brothers, and when they assured you that they weren’t, you relaxed a little more.

 After an hour, you’d learned quite a few things about both men. You leaned that while Regé had this overwhelming sensual vibing coming off him, he tended to hang back physically, but his eyes were all intensity, and you could tell he preferred words. When it came to Trevor, he approached things differently. He was a flirt through and through, and you could tell he preferred touch.

 They were both like opposite sides of a coin, and you couldn’t decide which side you preferred. Some days called for heads and others tails. One thing was sure; they were both feeling you, and neither of them could hide it. It was in the way Trevor touched you with sly touches and in the way Regé reacted when you went close to him to whisper something or bit your bottom lip.

 Two hours and countless drinks later, you still sat there with the two men, and you’d all but made up your mind. Regé leaned to you and whispered in your ear before he met your eyes. Nodding, you took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. Once you got to a semi-secluded spot, the song changed to Teyana Taylor’s new school version of Tell me what you Want, and you watched him bop to the beat while keeping on point. You were impressed.

Regé spun you around, so your back pressed to his chest and his hands wrapped around you. he smelled incredible, almost as incredible as he felt. That was when your movements synced together and slowed. You were now swaying from side to side. You began circling your hips against him and let him hold your hands in the air as you got into it. Regé came to your ear and whispered.

 “Tell me what you want.”

 Your panties were instantly wet. Fuck, you thought. In front of you, you watched Trevor approach the two of you. Once he was in front of you, the song changed again, and the slowest, sexiest tune came on. The lights in the club changed to a deeper hue of red. Trevor came so close that his face was just inches from yours. His hand wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you against him.

 Goddamn, you thought as he moved your body how he wanted it. Your eyes met, and Trevor’s hand clasped your jaw in his large but soft hand. Slowly he slid his hand across your skin before you felt a hand on your hip spin you around. Your back was now pressed to Trevor’s chest while Regé was the one who was now inches from your lips.

 The two men sandwiched you between them, each focusing on different parts of you. Trevor’s hand was wrapped around your abdomen, searing absentminded circles on the material of the dress you wore, while Regé’s was squeezing your hip, sinking in his fingertips, so they marked you. Trevor’s jaw pressed to your ear, which Regé’s was resting against your cheek on the other side of your face. You doubted anyone could tell where you began and either of them stopped. When you felt a pair of lips press against your right ear, your breath hitched in your throat.

 Pulling back slightly, you gazed into Regé’s sultry almond-shaped eyes, and your hand balled the fabric of his shirt at his waist, hoping to control yourself.

 “Tell me what you want,” Regé repeated.

 Fuck it; you thought as you brought your lips to his kissing him with the scorching energy that was between the three of you. Regé delved his tongue into your mouth, wrapping it around yours, and it was then his hand slid lower on your hip and snaked back to your ass. As he cupped it, you released a moan unable to contain it any longer. When he sucked your tongue, you pulled back and nibbled his bottom lip. His moan caught you off guard and only fueled your steadily uncapping desire.

 You felt Trevor behind you begin to pull away from you, no doubt feeling like the loser of their masculine competition of the night. That was when you pulled from Regé’s lips and pulled him back to close the space he’d created. You had both men’s undivided attention, and the power you felt was unmatched. Bringing your lips to Trevor’s, you kissed him with the same fire you had Regé seconds ago.

 Again, you held control of this kiss. Trevor allowed you to decide just what you wanted to do, and it was probably going to be his downfall for the night. You bit his bottom lip, and his moan swam in your mouth, making you eat it like a succubus taking his life force. The decision was made.

 You pulled away and found their eyes on you. Smirking, you turned with their hands in yours and led them through the crowd. You were thankful you’d decided on the club inside the hotel rather than the other one you and Fifi were thinking of. Once in the hotel’s lobby, you beelined it to the elevator bank and wondered if they were at this hotel too. As the elevator doors opened, you stepped on and waited for either of them to press a button. This was their turn to make a decision.

 You pretended not to notice them give each other a look before Regé stepped forward and pressed nineteen. You smirked and rode up in silence. Interestingly enough, the elevator made no stops until it came to the nineteenth floor. You let them lead you, this time keeping a few feet behind them. You could feel their angst as they exchanged looks every few steps, no doubt trying to formulate a plan. It’s funny they still thought they were in control.

 The two stopped at the door at the end of the hall then opened it. Regé was the one holding the door open, and Trevor stood on the other side, letting you walk in. You glanced at both men, smirked then walked inside. You walked toward the bar you saw in the corner, then took up two bottles before you continued walking through the suite. You knew the layout was similar to yours, so you just walked where you expected the bedroom to be.

 Finding it easily, you walked in and found some music on the bedside table system, another easy feat thanks to apple music coming with every room. You pulled two chairs in front of the large window of the bedroom. You then walked to both of them and led them each to a seat.

 “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 You smiled at Regé’s sweetness and went toward him to sit on his lap.

 “Would you like me to leave?”

 He shook his head.

 “Then tell me what you want.”

 His lip quirked up at the side. He had to remember his words to you a little while ago.

 “Will you give it to me?”

 You kissed him again. as soon as your lips touched, his hands were cupping your ass, pulling you closer onto his lap. You felt the strain of his manhood against his jeans, and the anticipation had your sex quivering. Groaning, you pulled away and walked to the window. You put the bottles you held on the floor and turned to them.

 “Since you like competitions so much, the first one to move loses.”

 Trevor and Regé looked at each other quizzically. They didn’t get it yet. You untied the neck of the dress and slowly brought the straps down, careful not to allow it to fall from your body yet. Though the light in the room was scarce, you could tell the desire in both men’s eyes. You walked to Regé then turned your back to him.

 You swayed your hips from side to side to the rhythm of the music bringing yourself down to the floor before coming back up to bend in front of his face. Peeking behind you, Regé’s jaw was clenched so tightly that you thought it had to hurt. You stood and swayed again to the sounds of Sabrina Claudio. In no time, you were lost in the music bringing your hands to the back of your neck, letting the straps hang around your waist.

 Turning to them, you heard both audibly exclaim.

 “Fuck.”

 The accents were entirely different but sexy nonetheless.

 “Something wrong?”

 You stood between Trevor’s legs, topless, and circled your hips while doing your best snake charmer dance. You deemed it was acceptable because neither of them gave any indication otherwise.

 “You’re gorgeous,” Trevor whispered.

 You could see his hands clenching the arm of the chair and wondered just how much control he had in him. You pushed the dress off your hips and stood there in your thong.

 “Fucking hell,” Regé uttered when you turned your back to them. Using the strong knees you were blessed with, you brought yourself low and popped a baby twerk, not wanting to give either of them a heart attack. Every time you changed the direction of your hips, you looked over a shoulder to watch them watch you. They looked absolutely tortured.

 You walked to Trevor and stood there but stared at Regé. You motioned for him to come to you, and in seconds, he was by your side. You kissed him, taking the time to tease him with each passing second while noting he was a great kisser.

 “Lay right there,” you said, pointing to the spot between your feet. Regé obeyed, then you dipped down to your knees, your sex hovering over Regé’s mouth. You were about to speak, but shock cut you off.

 Regé wrapped his arms around your hips where your thighs met them and buried his face between your legs.

 “Oh fuck!”

 That was not the end of your shock because seconds later, you felt a wet velvety tip brush against your lips. You opened your eyes and came face to face with the impressiveness that was Trevor’s dick. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp stab of pleasure between your legs prohibited it. Your mouth fell open, and Trevor pushed himself into your mouth.

 You almost laughed. They were the dream tag team. The room quickly filled with moans and groans as you pleased Trevor and Regé pleased you. The way his tongue flicked against your clit was quickly bringing you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the night. You knew if they had anything to say about it, you’d have more.

 “Shit, your mouth—it’s—incredible,” Trevor panted, rolling his head back.

 Not relenting, you bobbed your head faster on Trevor’s cock, taking him as far as you could. He grabbed your head and held it in place, then fucked your mouth, making you gag every so often.

 “Uuuug!”

 When he released your head you continued the pace and moaned on his flesh from the pleasure Regé was giving you but also the pleasure you got from giving it to Trevor. When you felt gentle nibbles, you pulled back and gasped, then began using your hands.

 “Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, mmmm!”

 Regé sucked your clit into his mouth as he reached up to one of your breasts to pinch your nipple. Following suit, Trevor did the same to the other, and that pushed you over the edge. Your screech was loud as it filled the room and probably the hall outside. Bucking your hips against his mouth, you rode his face as it was meant to be ridden.

 When you rolled off of Regé and collapsed to the floor, the men stood and surrounded you. Regé went to your head while Trevor between your legs. You watched him sheath himself with a condom before he met your eyes.

 “Are you sure?”

 You nodded before you reached to palm Regé’s pulsating and impressive member. As your mouth slid along Regé’s length, Trevor’s slid inside your heated core, stretching you deliciously before filling you perfectly with his thickness.

 “Good god,” Trevor whispered, hovering over you to catch his breath.

 “You’re so tight, Y/N,” Trevor moaned, beginning to circle his hips.

With a full mouth, you were unable to speak and instead used the pleasure you felt to return it tenfold to Regé. His head lulled back while his jaw dropped, and he grunted, sending the last few inches of his need into your throat. You fought your gag the best you could. Trevor then sped his thrusts. Each time he connected your bodies, your breasts swung, and your sex clenched around him, gripping him like a vise.

 Soon your moans and mumbles made it almost impossible to properly enjoy what Regé had to offer, so your hands to make up for the job your mouth couldn’t do. Trevor’s thrusts got rougher, and in seconds you’d come for the second time. Using your feet to push him off, you stood and crawled onto the bed. While lying there, you watched both men slowly approach you. Regé was the one between your legs this time while Trevor was beside you.

 Trevor wrapped his lips around a pert nipple, then sucked, licked, and nibbled it. As your mewls spilled from your lips, Regé still had yet to move an inch. He kneeled there, rubbing the tip of his cock across your soaking slit.

 “You’re so wet. Show me, Y/N.”

 You slinked your fingers between your legs and dipped one inside to show him the evidence of your overwhelming arousal. He smiled, then sucked your finger into his mouth before he thrust forward in one powerful move.

 “Fuck!”

 The men ravaged you, one with their mouth and the other with their skillful appendage. Where Trevor was girthy and nicely proportioned, Regé had been blessed with girth and an overabundance of length. It didn’t take much for you to come again and again and again. When you rolled onto Regé to take control, you took your time crippling Trevor as he stood in front of you.

 The room was sweltering, and your bodies were slick with sweat, so every move the three of you made, the sound of bodies rubbing together echoed throughout. If it wasn’t the slickness of skin, it was the squelching of your wetness as they plowed into you or you rode them into oblivion.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 The feel of both men nestled snugly in your tight trove was close to have to see stars. You crashed your lips to Regé, who was underneath you while Trevor was behind. He pumped more vigorously into you, making you pant and whine with each connection. Trevor, not being the one to be outdone, slammed into you, coaxing that spot in you that you knew would soon have you combust into a million specks of dust as you floated the galaxy.

 “I’m coming,” Regé and Trevor both shouted as if competing for who could say it louder. You rocked your hips against Regé while slamming back onto Trevor. You intended to bring both men to their knees, but after a few movements, you realized that you’d come undone just as ferociously.

 “Come for me, Y/N!”

  Shivering, you tried to ignore the command as you repeated your actions over and over. Underneath you, Regé bit your nipple, and behind you, Trevor your shoulder. Either way, these men intended to sear their marks into your flesh. Something about that was so fucking hot. You sped your movements, and that was when your body shook.

 “Fuck!”

 Both men shook with you and released such loud grunts and groans that rivaled your own whining. Your orgasm was expected but what was not expected was how long it continued. After a minute, you were still coming with both men still trying to secure themselves as deeply into you as possible. Both thrust into you once more, and that was all you could handle before stars erupted behind your eyelids, making you clench around both of them.

 Trevor and Regé gasped and hissed before the three of you dropped onto the bed. You were between them as all three of you tried to catch your breaths.

 Your eyelids were heavy, your limbs tense, muscles tight, and between your legs sore. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. So you didn’t.

 ~~~~~~~

-The Next Morning-

When you opened your eyes, the sun had yet to rise from behind the high rise next to the hotel. It took several moments for your vision to return clearly. When it did, you looked around, recognizing you were not alone. You felt a body nestled to your back and one in front of you. You froze, not wanting to stir anyone awake. You didn’t want a whole morning after thing. This was not what this was. It took you some time to slither from the clutches of the gorgeous men you’d spent the night with.

 Once free you stood there for a few moments and took them in. Trevor was on his side back to the window completely bare assed. It was a nice one too. His arm was thrown over his head leaving only part of his face visible. He looked adorable asleep. Regé was on his back, one arm over his head tucked underneath the pillow he rested his head-on. That was where your head had laid, right on his chest as if it belonged there.

 You shook off any attachment that was trying to creep its way in. You didn’t often do things like this, matter of fact, this was downright as rare as a blue moon. However, you hated the cliché of women who got attached after clear one night stands. You never wanted to be one of them because you knew for a fact men always laughed at them. You wouldn’t be that cliché, you thought to yourself. You gave the men one last look, then turned to gather your things.

 Once dressed and inside the elevator, you smiled to yourself. They really thought they picked you up when in fact, you’d heard their friendly competitive banter and decided a little fun was in order. Seeing how the night went, it was safe to say you were the real winner.

 MSG Fifi: Everything okay?

 You smiled to yourself.

 MSG: Pussy put their ass to sleep. Call me, NyQuil.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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