#he's in his 'i need to get fit' era and he was planning on just eating unseasoned rice and chicken breast

[xx-sharpfawngz-xx]

Currently making my coworker roasted veggies for tomorrow because he just. Doesn't eat vegetables and I'm hoping to turn him to the dark side

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 02

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: HAUSER - Adagio (Albinoni)

A/N: I’m so glad part one did well! I really liked this idea and hoped other people would too. As always comment if you want to be tagged and I will tag you in the next post! I wanted this to be three parts, but depending on how much I can fit in this chapter and the next one, I’ll see if I need to make four parts. The song at the beginning of this chapter is meant to be played when the line “ The music picked up” Is read. Skip to 5:35 for it to play smoothly, or as smoothly as possible.

Word count: 3.k or something over that idk I got too lazy to count :(

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part three.

Within, the grand foyer unveiled itself, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail in stark contrast against a black and white color scheme. Crystal chandeliers, dangling from lofty black ceilings, cast their brilliance upon white walls adorned with ornate mirrors. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich black and white fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, establishing cozy settings for guests to assemble and engage in enriching conversations. Each room murmured tales of a past era – intricately patterned black and white wallpaper, frames gilded in black to showcase classical art, and a subtle aroma of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air, harmonizing with the monochromatic elegance. The guests walking in all marveled at the details of the mansion.

Charlotte and Vagatha both stepped in, Charlotte in awe of the detailing. A shadow figure bent down slightly to offer her a drink, to which she happily took.

“Vaggie this is all so beautiful. I hope I can make a good impression.” Charlotte said, turning to her partner to ease her nerves. Vagatha just smiled, a hand on her shoulder lovingly.

“You’re gonna do great babe, besides, there’s so many people here, if one likes it I’m sure other people will get on board too.” Vagatha said.

“Or they can laugh at you if one person points out how ridiculous it is.” Husk said, chugging his drink before placing it back on the servers tray.

“Thanks for the kind words Husk.” Vagatha said sarcastically. He just shrugged, looking towards the bar area which was practically calling him over.

Upstairs in your room, you stared at yourself in the mirror as your shadows made the finishing touches on your outfit. Draped in a long, elegant black gown that gracefully embraced your commanding figure, the fabric cascaded like shadows. Delicate chain motifs intertwine with the dress, creating an alluring dance of darkness. A chain belt cinches your waist, a subtle nod to your captivating ability to ensnare and command over your shadows. Completing the regalia, silver chain cuffs adorn your wrists, reflecting both power and refinement.

“Madame, the guests are all in the lobby awaiting your arrival.” One of the shadows said. You nodded, stepping down from your showcase, winking to yourself in the mirror before chuckling to yourself. A shadow approaches you, bowing in respect before holding out a tray with your drink, a contrast to your dark colors. You take the glass in your hand, another shadow lightly putting a thermometer in your drink so it’s the perfect temperature for you, fifteen point five degrees Celsius. The liquid is a light yellow-ish green, Lafite-Rothschild, an expensive French wine you tried in 1906 when you were alive. Lifting it to your lips, you take a long sip and sigh, the spicy and earth notes, mixed with a hint of tobacco and red Barrie’s dance on your tongue like a performance of Gavotte. You pull back with a sigh, setting the glass down, a perfect Ridel Vinum Bordeaux, personally crafted for you as the bottom of the glass is a Smokey black, fading into clear glass towards the top.

“Let’s get this Gala started shall we~?”

In the lobby, guests were socializing amongst themselves. Velvet, Vox and Valentino had split for a short while. After the incident outside, the two overlords wouldn’t stop tantalizing the picture box about his fit of frustration dealing with the Radio Demon. From the lobby, there were large crystal doors revealing the back exterior of the house. The greenery was just perfect, with cobblestone flooring revealing another bloody fountain. Vox stood with his drink, speaking to some sinner he couldn’t remember the name of, about how well his business was going.

“You ever get,” Vox asked, eyeing one of the shadows who stood in a corner, white eyes soulless as they held out drinks to guests. “Creeped out by those, things?” Vox asked, turning back to the sinner. He just scoffed.

“Please, they’re always around and as far as I know, harmless.” The sinner said. At that, a shadow appeared between the two, taking their empty glasses and replacing it with new, full ones. Vox tried his hardest not to seem alarmed at this, and took the glass silently, sipping his drink slowly as it floated away. It was then he took in the shadows appearance. They all looked the same. Tall figures, Smokey outlines, but no feel or hands, just a faded end to their limbs. Their eyes were white and soulless, almost as it they were vacant, a shell of what they used to be. There were no facial features, just two white circles and a thin white line for their mouth. Each one however, had a light Smokey chain around their chest, wrapped in the shape of an X.

“What are the chains for then? They’re pretty much smoke, what do they need chains forever?” Vox asked. The associate laughed, but before he could answer, another overlord stepped in.

“They have chains because they’re claimed souls.” Fredrick Von Eldritch says, his sister Bethesda in toe. The two grin, a shadow following behind them with a tray of their drinks. “If you get invited to the gala long enough, you get a personal one.” He said with a wink, gesturing to the shadow behind the two.

“They’re quite cute once you get used to them.” Bethesda said with a smile, cooing at the shadow lightly. Yet, it still remained expressionless.

“Actually, now that you say that.” The sinner says, looking around for a moment. “It’s been awfully quiet with a laugh track being played.” He says, referring to Alastor. Vox just rolls his eyes.

“Who gives a shit about where that old timey freak is?” Vox asks. Fredrick and Bethesda snicker to each other, catching Vox’s attention.

“Probably hunting for his dear Madame.” Bethesda said dramatically, laying her head on her brothers shoulder and batting her lashes playfully. Fredrick and the sinner laughed at his sisters antics, but Vox grew serious.

“What does that mean? He knows her?” Vox asked, to which Fredrick scoffed, finishing his drink before reaching for another off the shadows server tray.

“Of course he does. She died before him, and they’re the closest overlords in time period. Well, aside from Zestial and her.” Fredrick explained. Vox didn’t say anything else, instead looking to the red ‘moon’ of hell, before glancing at the blood fountain. He had heard rumors about being at the Madame’s table, and how she gave the inside to all her projects and plans before the next extermination. Apparently, this year was supposed to be ‘different’ as people had been talking.

“When does this dinner start anyway? We’ve been standing out here for two hours.” Vox said annoyed.

“In a few minutes, Madame will make her grand entrance. She will socialize with the guests as it is polite to have one on one time with them. Then she will spend the rest of the time while the orchestra gets together deciding on contenders to sit at her table.” A shadow walking by said, stopping to stare at Vox. “Madame is always watching.” It then said, turning to serve other guests. Vox said nothing, instead turning on his heel and making his way inside the mansion. How could someone feel suffocated outside? Fredrick and Bethesda said nothing, watching him go, but sharing a glance between each other before making their leave too, leaving the sinner all by his lonesome.

Inside, Charlotte and Vagatha conversed about how she could get people behind her project.

“Maybe if I sing-“

“Please no. These people are too…” Vagatha said, glancing around the room. Everyone seemed too, fake. Vagatha knew Charlotte being herself around these people would do absolutely no good to the hotel, and though she hated telling Charlotte these things, she knew her kindness would be frowned upon, and made fun of. “Serious for that kind of thing.” Vagatha finished, taking a sip of her champagne. She settled for champagne in a flute while Charlotte drank water, wanting to hydrate herself in hopes to calm her nerves.

“I heard that Madame might be making her entrance soon.” Charlotte said nervously, looking around. She half expected her parents to show up, but knew how they rarely liked getting involved in overlord affairs. She’d be surprised if they showed up.

“Then when she does you can try to pitch your idea to her.” Vagatha said supportively. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, hoping someone would listen to her. She had tried practicing on two sinners moments ago, to which they both laughed and called her delusional. The defeat was beginning to get to her, and she hadn’t even started yet.

With Velvet, she began studying the interior of the old-styled mansion. She was trying her hardest to not be too rude about it, but of course she had her comments, but ultimately kept them to herself. Cramoisie, your fashion line, was the top fashion brand in hell, everyone wanted a piece of it. Velvet had never had an article for herself, despite trying her hardest to get something, anything, even a sample. But people feigned for it like drugs. Velvets line was successful sure, but with your validation and guidance, she could become perfection, the same way you were. Everyone in hell looked up to you, shit, you had even gotten Lilith’s praise as she was photographed wearing a custom piece you designed for her. Your work was art in its purist form, and Velvet kept a close eye on her other colleagues to make sure they didn’t fuck your chance up. Velvet had her assistant hold samples and sketches of designs Velvet had been working on, wanting to show you her best work in hopes of winning you over. She could brag about having you support her line, and her fans would die of excitement. Maybe, she could get you to design her a custom piece, or Velvet could design one for you. The possibilities were limitless, if you agreed to meet with her of course. But that was all the more reason why she needed to make sure she had a seat at your table tonight. She needed to get close to you.

“Are you fucking high?” Velvet whispered to Valentino, who just chuckled softly at her.

“What’s the matter hermosa? Just enjoy the Gala, we’re here to have fun right?” He asked with a giggle. Velvet huffed, deciding to find Vox, hoping he could straighten Valentino out. Valentino would not fuck up her chance tonight.

Near the large staircase in the middle of the room, Alastor stood, glass of whiskey in his clawed hands. He smiles, humming to himself while quietly back up into a wall, careful to scan the room quickly before he disappears into the shadows. Then, moments later, appears in a room separate from the gala. It’s a study, your study. Alastor takes a step forward and quickly the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, casting larger, more dramatic silhouettes that seemed to dance on the walls. The interplay of darkness and light only heightened the mysterious allure of the study. In the midst of this chiaroscuro ambiance, Alastor found himself surrounded by an atmosphere that mirrored the complex nature of the figure depicted in the portrait hanging above the fireplace, which was in the far back wall of the study. It was the only light source in the room. Black wooden shelves lined against the tall walls, showcasing famous pieces of literature, all hand picked and to your liking. The fire place, crafted with dark marble, commanded his attention. Above the mantel, a striking portrait of Madame hung, capturing his focus, like a trance. The image portrayed a being universally admired, yet equally feared; someone who elicited both admiration and intimidation all at once, you.

“Hm, hiding now are we?” Alastor asks with a grin, tutting lightly. “That’s not very proper of you Madame~” He says, calling out to you. Seconds later, a dark shadow appears in the corner of the room, taking up the entire corner, before a shadowy figure steps out. Similar to the servant’s out in the lobby, Alastor’s eye twitch’s slightly.

“Oh don’t be so pissy. You know no one gets to see me before my entrance.” You say, the shadow expressionless, but Alastor can hear your tone through the figure, taunting him. He sighs, setting his staff on a slant along his foot.

“And here I thought I could connect with an old friend.” Alastor said with a chuckle, staring down the shadowy figure, hoping his gaze would ease you to show yourself to him. But alas, stuck in your ways, you didn’t show yourself, instead laughing, though the figure did not open its mouth, making your ‘shadow a-presence’ all the more eerie.

“If you really want to speak with me it can wait until my entrance. I should be done soon.” You say, before Alastor just smiles, tossing his staff from hand to hand.

“Well if you’re really going to make me wait, mind you speed the process up a bit? You know it doesn’t take much to make you look breath-taking.” Alastor compliments, but earns a scoff from you.

“Oh please, don’t start with me ‘Radio Demon.’” You mock, before the shadow figure begins to step back.

“Wait, a moment before you go.” Alastor says, standing his staff on the floor. The shadow figure stops, before you speak again.

“Make it quick. You know how much energy it takes to keep this up.” You say.

“So, about this hotel business. I know she’s planning to talk to you about it.”

“Yes the idea you tell me so much about.” You say sarcastically. Alastor had told you bits and pieces about the princess’s project, but didn’t tell you what it was for exactly, leaving you to wonder how important it really was if even he wouldn’t speak on it.

“Well you know how much I crave entertainment. Is it possible to make a request for the seating arraignment tonight?” Alastor asks. You laugh, figure still unmoving.

“Humorous to think you even have a seat. You’ve been gone for what? Seven years?” You say with a scoff.

“You’ve been gone decades my dear, you didn’t even show up to your last twenty gala’s, having your pity shadows do it for you. I doubt you should be speaking on the matter.”

At that, you chuckle to yourself before the shadow begins to back into the corner, black smoke enveloping the corner like a cloud. “I presume you would be correct. Well, I’m off now. Don’t sneak into my quarters again.” You say finally before disappearing. Alastor just grins, stepping into his own shadow, joining the other guests.

The shadows had slowly but, eventually ushered the guests into the lobby, everyone gathering around the staircase as the shadows lined up against the railings, the orchestra playing the music you had specifically requested. You were about to make your grand entrance, something you hadn’t done in centuries. Everyone stood around, awaiting your arrival, the shadows momentarily disappearing to give the guests more space to crowd around. Candles lit along the walls, as well as floating lights appearing going up the staircase. There, the shadows took their place, two on each step on opposite sides, facing each other. The music picked up, the lights focusing at the top of the stairs. Black smoke began to roll down the steps slowly, the anticipation for your arrival growing. The music gets calm for a moment, a larger shadow figure standing at the top of the staircase. It’s larger than any of the other shadows in the room, standing at fifteen feet tall. It speaks in a monotone voice, but loud and commanding.

“Thank you all for your attendance tonight. The Crimson Gala is held once every year to start the new year with all those who survived the extermination. This being said, Madame would like to say her personal congratulations for not being apart of the bloodshed this year. While the past years she has used me to say that she will unfortunately not be in attendance, I am pleased to say that tonight, along with all the new guests, she will make her grand entrance. Presenting to you, the prowess of darkness and queen of shadows, Madame.”

The lights shine bright, and the shadow vanishes quickly. Velvet shushes Vox and Valentino, eyes practically bulging out of her skull to see you. Alastor just stares, waiting in anticipation. Charlie claps her hands quietly to herself while Vaggie just smiles. Rosie sips her glass, eyes waiting to see what outfit you’ve put together this time. At the top of the staircase, a large black smokey circle opens at the bottom of the floor, smoke swirling upwards slowly in a tornado form, smoke getting quicker as it swirls around itself. It gets larger, and guests closer to the stairs have to back up a bit as the wind picks up. Carmilla turns her face to the side, not wanting the wind to mess up her hair too much. Finally, the music picks up again, the peak point in the song, which lasts eight seconds, before the smoke falls to the side in one swoop, leaving you in the midst, now on display for all guests to see. The music continues, the chains against your dress glistening under the light. The music continues the play as you take steps down, looking at the guests. There’s a serious expression on your face, but somehow neutral all the same. Your shadows had added last minute black lace gloves, which went up to your forearm. The bottom of your dress had a lace trimming, as well as the bodice being laced with trim along the bust area. The jewelry was a simple black diamond crystal on a metal chain around your neck, paired with black diamond earrings. The cuff links on your hand remained all the same though. Finally reaching the end of the steps, everyone clapped, now finally being graced with your presence.

Velvet was in awe, staring at you with wide eyes like a child being gifted the most precious thing. Her excitement grew enormously, watching you shake hands and socialize with guests. She had never seen you before, after you had gone ghost for centuries, hardly anyone had photos of you. Hell she didn’t even know what you sounded like.

Charlie was so excited to meet you. She hadn’t seen you in, forever, and was now finally excited to be seen as your equal. Well, that was what she had hoped at least. Having seen a portrait of you in her parents' home when she was younger, she learned of the close relationship between Lilith and you. The anticipation had built over the years, and now, finally, she looked forward to being seen as your equal. Her hope was to hopefully get your support for the hotel, aiming to elevate her standing in the eyes of others. With your backing, she believed people would take both her and the redemption project more seriously, fostering a genuine desire for redemption. Maybe it would even work.

Husk smiled as he watched you socialize with guests. He was glad to finally see you back out again. He never knew why you went into hiding of course, but he never had the balls to ask, so he just stood quiet. When you disappeared, it was after a particularly rough extermination, and he knew something had happened, he just didn’t know what. Since then, the world only had glimpses of you to go on. Some sinners were starting to think you were a myth, since you never showed your face at the Crimson Gala, especially since you were the host.

Vox was taken aback, a sense of confusion and unease settling within him. Your presence had caught him off guard; he had anticipated something different, perhaps an older figure. The unexpected impact left him feeling uneasy, realizing the gravity of your influence. It dawned on him why Velvet had stressed the importance of making a favorable impression. Apart from Zestial and the twins, you stood as one of the strongest and most enduring overlords. In Vox's mind, securing your alliance was imperative for the success of his company. Your potential support would make his endeavors foolproof. Everything had to be flawless – not for any personal reasons, of course, but solely for the sake of his company. He needed you.

Making your rounds to guests, you began to get closer to your colleagues. With a wave to Stolas, and a nod to Zeezie, you run into the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. He grins, sharp teeth getting you. He smiles and nods his head, and you nod back. Alastor takes in your stoic expression, before carefully taking in your outfit.

“My, my, Madame, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. Your choice in attire is as captivating as ever – a perfect blend of elegance and sensibility. Quite the spectacle for the grand event, don’t you think?” He asked, holding his arm out to you. You take it, and the two of you walk around the lobby together, conversing.

“Well you don’t look to bad for yourself. Maybe going into hibernation was perfect for you.” You say back, and he grins.

“You’re too kind darling.” He says, dead heart quickening. He puts a hand to his chest, mocking fragility. “Your words leave me breathless my dear.” He says with false dramatics. You roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully.

“Oh please, your ego is quite large enough already, yes?” You ask. He doesn’t say much else, but instead, gently moves you to the side while you look at your shadows, now waltzing around in the middle of the lobby, putting on a performance.

“Did you plan that?” Alastor asks. You shake your head.

“No, but the music is perfect for it, so I let them be. They’re already trapped with me, I might as well make them useful.” You say, and Alastor just hums, a laugh track playing. However, as the two of you walk, his track screeches to a halt upon seeing Vox approach the two of you.

“Madame.” Vox says, nodding his head. His expression is serious, and though you’ve heard of him, you’ve never seen him.

“Ah hello. Vox I presume?” You ask, free hand reaching forward to shake his own outstretched hand. The two of you shake hands, and Alastor can’t ignore the way he fights to keep his smile. Why he could just shove his staff right into that flace faced fuckers scree-

“Alastor, I suppose you’ve met Mr.Vox before, correct?” You ask. Alastor nods with a smile, and you notice the way it stretches almost painfully across his face. It makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling. He’d surely tell about what this is about later on in the night you supposed.

“Why yes we have! I’ve made him loose his signal quite a few times.” Alastor says with a laugh, his laugh track playing. Vox doesnt say anything, though he doesnt have too as his eye twitching had given enough away. The two clearly did not like each other. Than again, you had felt the same way about Alastor when you first met him, so the feeling was understandable.

“Madame, a dance?” Vox asked, turning his attention back to you. You thought for a moment, before untangling your arm from Alastors and nodding to Vox, taking his outstretched hand to you and leading you to the dance floor, which now had a couple other sinners dancing as well. Alastor held onto his staff tight, but relaxed as you discreetly slid him a card. In white with black lettering, cursive font. Seat number five. He was invited to your table. Guaranteed a seat. That was enough to have him back in light spirits, now searching out his dear friend Rosie to share the good news.

Velvet had been looking for you all over, her assistant close in toe. She had tried her hardest to get to you when you initially made your enterance, but alas you had been too overcrowded with people for her to get to you. She had heard rumors about how you hated rudeness and disrespect. That meant no interruptions, and no loud speaking, or vulgar language. She was sure to keep herself in check, and that meant her colleagues too. So, naturally, you could imagine her shock upon seeing Vox dancing with you on the dance floor, black dress twirling at your feet. You looked so regal, so elegant, flawless. She wanted to be just like you. She waited patiently on the sidelines, waiting for the dance to end. She could see the two of you having a conversation, but couldn’t pinpoint what about.

“So, I presume you’re one of the, newer overlords?” You asked as the two of you danced. Vox chuckled, leading you slowly.

“New? Well, maybe to you I would be. I heard you haven’t really left your own head for quite some time.” Vox says lowly. You nod, letting him dip you.

“Yes that would be correct. So what are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask, quite unsure of his purpose. Overlords are meant to have a strong leading purpose in hell, so what was his?

“Well, you’re looking at the head of Vox Tech. A software company.” He says, and you hum in understanding.

“So modern technology.” You confirm, and he nods, pearly whites shining brightly back at you.

“You’re looking at the future Madame.” Vox says, spinning you quickly, before bringing you close by your hip.

“Interesting. So, what’s your social influence?” You ask. Vox thinks for a moment, before laughing to himself.

“People have televisions in all their homes. Any piece of modern technology comes strictly from me. With a little mind control, there isn’t any influence I don’t have.” Vox says, noticing a sinner walk by with a smart watch, to which he holds a finger up to you, sending himself through it, and then to another sinner with their smartphone, making his way around the room in seconds before he’s back in front of you, stepping in time for the next number. “See? Nothing I can’t do.” He says with a wink. You nod slowly, looking around the room. Being back out in the spotlight after being gone for so long makes you feel a bit, behind. But with an overlord like this in your circle, maybe this could be a way for you to keep up with the current world, get you back up to pace. The dance finally comes to a close, and the two of you bow to one another, before you summon a card, handing it to Vox. Seat number nine. Vox grinned at you, giving you a nod. You nod back, before looking at another sinner who’s asked to speak with you. With that, you leave Vox at the dance floor, white card in hand. His spot at your table was secured. But, this made his emotions churn even more. What was this feeling he had? He was happy yes, but for the companies sake. But, maybe for once, he could mix just a little business with pleasure.

Charlotte had lost her partner at the bar and had been looking for her for quite some time. However, instead of finding Vagatha, she found you instead. You had seemed to be finishing a conversation with Vox, and though she disliked him, she took her chance the moment she saw you walking away.

“Excuse me, Madame- Miss- Um.” Charlotte said quickly, causing you to stop in your tracks. She got closer to you, now a few inches away. It was then she realized how tall you were compared to her. You were easily around seven feet, or just under that. With your heels that was. You looking down at her made her feel intimidated, small, like the child. But, feeling her nerves rise, she began to ramble again. “I know you probably have a lot to do tonight and I don’t want to take up your time, I just want you to hear me out, if that’s okay with you of course.” Charlotte said quickly, pausing to inhale. You narrowed your eyes at her, snapping your fingers and causing a shadow to appear next to you, singular glass on the tray. It was the same tall shadow from earlier, with the same drink. Again, using testing the temperature of the drink, before nodding to you so you could take it. You lifted the glass to your lips, maintaining eye contact with Charlotte as you drank the wine in one go, putting it down on the tray with a sigh.

“Go on.” You replied, now intrigued. You knew who she was. “You’re the girl with the hotel? Lucifer and Lilith’s child, correct?” You asked. Charlotte smiled, stars appearing in her eyes as she gushed.

“You know who I am?” She asked surprised. You nodded, cracking a small smile for the first time tonight, causing many eyes to stare in shock. You hardly ever smiled. In fact, there were three counts ever of you smiling in hell. Once, when you first got to hell, killing and claiming territory, and smiling once you finally settled down. The second being after World War One, when so many souls came to you seeking ‘help’ yet only being met with contracts. Third, being just before the extermination you disappeared after. You had gone through your belongings from Earth that managed to get brought to you from the surface, and was looking at family photos with one other overlord. Zestial. Now, at the gala, here was Lucifer’s brat, as some would call, making you crack a grin at her giddiness.

“Of course I know who you are. Do you forget I know your mother? You’re practically a niece of mine at this point.” You say, motioning at Charlotte to walk with you. “Now, what is this hotel I’ve heard about?” You ask. She beams at this and follows excitedly.

“OkaysobasicallyIhavethishotelandit’scalledthe’HazbinHotel’whichisforsinnerswhowantobebetterandredeemthemselvestotryand-“ You stopped her, allowing her to take a breath of air after rambling for so long. You lead her outside, finding a nearby bench to sit on. With how quickly she spoke, she needed all the ‘fresh’ air she could get right?

“Why are you speaking so quickly? Also, sinners who want to better themselves? Where would you find those?” You ask with a laugh, the same tall shadow appearing with a glass for you. Again, you sip on your drink as Charlotte collects herself together.

“Usually if I explain slowly people cut me off and I never get to finish, so I’ve gotten used to just saying everything as quickly as possible so they don’t cut me off and actually listen to what I have to say.” Charlotte says, again rather quickly. “Like I was saying; the Hazbin Hotel is a place for sinners who want to better themselves to possibly try to get into heaven through redemption, and I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all died and got sent here, but I believe people can change and that everyone deserves second chances.” Charlotte explained. She saw the look of confusion on your face, and began to speak again. “We already have two residents, who are making strides to be better people every day with group activities and I believe it’s working. If I could just get other people on board, people like you on board who actually believe in my cause, then we can get rid of extermination and maybe save some people here.” Charlotte explained. You thought for a moment, and the fact you hadn’t laughed in her face yet gave her some hope that maybe she had gotten through to you. You stood up, setting your empty glass on the tray before the shadow disappeared.

“Honestly,” You said with a sigh, looking around, your eyes landing on your shadows serving other guests. “The entire project sounds delusional.” You said sharply. Charlotte looked down at this, defeated, before standing as well.

“Well, thank you for hearing me out I guess. You’re the only other person who has aside from Alastor. So, thank you for your time.” Charlotte said, turning to walk back inside the gala, head hanging low with tears brimming her eyes. Maybe it was the connection to her mother, maybe it was because she reminded you of her mother. But, something had to change.

“I didn’t say we were done speaking Charlotte.” You said sharply again. She stopped and tensed up at that, before turning around, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.

“W-what?” She asked. You stepped forward to her, putting your hands flat together before smoke encased them. Then seconds later it was gone, and in your hands was a white card. You handed it to her with a nod.

“It sounds delusional. But, maybe someone will like that about you.” You said. She read the card, face dropping once she realized what it meant.

“So, so I can sit with you tonight? I can pitch my idea?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, patting her shoulder.

“Yes you may. I’ll allow you to have your time. You get thirty minutes, there will be overlords and royalty there, I’m sure someone is bound to take an interest in it.” You say. Charlotte squeals excitedly before jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Oh my goodness! Thank you so so so much!! You won’t regret this I swear!” Charlotte said, and you just nodded.

“Of course I won’t. I don’t make mistakes.” You say, before walking past her. “Oh, and thank Alastor for that. He was insistent you be present at my table tonight.” You say to her. She’s left standing outside in shock, watching as you walk back into the lobby to socialize with other guests.

It seemed Velvet had finally caught you, rushing her assistant to follow you as she made her way over to you.

“Madame, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! Your presence here is like a beacon of individuality and charisma,” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. You look her up and down for a moment, stopping in your tracks to listen to her. Something feels, odd about this one. “I’ve been ardently following your unique style for ages, and it’s truly an honor to be in your presence. The way you effortlessly blend boldness with subtlety, it’s unparalleled, truly outstanding. Now, I’ve ventured into a daring new fashion brand, and I can’t help but envision you as the unrivaled star in my collection. Picture it: the illustrious Madame, gracing the world with a revolutionary expression of style. This would be the perfect way to make your way back into the public eye, and of course you would look ravishing doing so.” Velvet said, her assistant handing you sketches of Velvets designs, and photographs of some of her work on her models. “So, what do you say Madame? Will you be the luminary of a new era in Hell’s fashion?” Velvet says. You grow quiet for a moment. Aside from Rosie, you’ve had no other overlord come into the fashion realm, and Rosie is only partially in it as a side hustle, but everyone knows it’s your thing. The designs are things you would never wear, bold and odd colors together, like a child’s clothing line.

“Is this for children?” You ask. Velvet nearly chokes and her assistant tenses up.

“No Madame. It’s modern fashion.” Velvet says cautiously. She knows what she’s doing. Correcting you. No one ever does that. You don’t need to be corrected because you know what you’re looking at. A sad fashion designer who wants you to slap your name on her sloppy work so if it goes up in flames it’s your reputation taking the fall, not her’s.

“So all your models look like they came from a whore house? Correct?” You ask. Velvet’s jaw drops and her assistant hides a laugh. Velvet, inhaling softly, tries her hardest not to cry on the spot. You’re her idol. She can’t fuck this up.

“No Madame! Not at all!” She says, showing you a design she had made personally for you. Based on your other collections, she knows your favorite color is black, so that’s a plus. All she had to do was add a bit more, of her flair to it. It was a black jumpsuit, with a fur coat that dropped down to the knees, black with white fur around the edges of the coat and the cuffs. The sketch wasn’t half bad, and quite frankly better than the others. Maybe it was the forgiving mood Charlotte had put you in. Velvet hands you the design and you skim over it, taking in the details, the hair and eye makeup, the shoes and jewelry notes written on the side. The sketches aren’t bad, but modern fashion isn’t your fashion.

“I’ll consider it. Do you mind if I keep these?” You ask. Velvet shakes her head, handing you the folder from her assistants hands.

“Please, take whatever you’d like Madame!” Velvet says. You nod, flipping through the pages.

“You’ll hear from me soon. In the meantime, I want new sketches of these designs. Modern fashion is fast fashion. Nothing stays memorable that way. You want to be good?” You ask her, and she nods quickly. “Then be better. Modesty and elegance are what people strive for. It radiates power, and everyone is greedy for that. If you can sell that through an item, you won’t ever go out of style.” You say, handing her back the folder, keeping the sketch she’d done for you. Well, at least you liked something. Vevelt nodded her head and watched you walk away, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Um, miss?” Her assistant asked.

“What?” Velvet asked annoyingly.

“She left a card on the folder.”

At that , Velvets eyes snapped down at the folder, before she screamed in excitement. Seat number six. She was invited to your table. Mission accomplished. Now, with only six seats left to fill, you were off to talk to your other guests. The night had proved to be interesting, and you knew your encore would not disappoint.

[hischierhoney]

I Know Places

Jack Hughes x actress!reader // masterlist

title & inspo from I Know Places by Taylor Swift. written for the Eras Tour fic challenge! thank you to @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston for putting this on!

Summary: When the press catches Jack leaving your place, things seem set to crumble. But Jack has different ideas. 4.2k words

Warnings: mentions of press/pressure from the media, some mild angst but it’s fixed by the end!!

It’s past 2am when you stumble your way into your New York City townhouse, eyes bleary and tired, limbs even more so. The lights are off, besides the one in the hallway, and you don’t bother to turn any of them on. You just shuck off your jacket and shoes, shuffle your way down the hallway, up the stairs and straight into your bedroom. There’s one thought in your brain, and it’s bed. Warm, cozy, soft, full of blankets and pillows and a man-

You nearly scream at the sight, the gentle slope of shoulders under your fluffy comforter. You press your hand to your racing heart as it all comes flooding back. You, on a layover between Los Angeles and New York, stuck in an airport for longer than planned, on the phone with your boyfriend Jack Hughes.

Jack, who’d promised to pick you up from the airport until your flight got delayed. Jack, who has morning skate at 7am and needs his sleep. Jack, who, in a moment of sleep deprived, airport lounge tequila induced delirium, you had told about the key you keep in a potted plant, and suggested that he let himself in. Suggested he crawl into your bed and fall asleep. Just in the interest of sleeping next to him, of maybe having a couple moments with him in the morning.

You don’t get much time with him. Not nearly as much as you’d both like, at least. The two of you are too busy, too full of your own obligations, with his job and your job. Star hockey player and America’s sweetheart actress- it’s like a pairing from one of those Hallmark movies, the ones with perfect houses draped in fake snow that look like they’d smell like warm cookies. Except this is real. And he’s here.

He looks peaceful, you think, as you pad across the room to be closer. His cheek is smooshed against the pillow, on his stomach on the bed, laying in a spread eagle position that’s going to leave it difficult for you to find any space. His lips are parted slightly, soft breaths puffing out between them. Jack sleeps like the dead, you’ve found, from the now many times you’ve slept in the same bed. He says he’s trained himself into it, with hockey and all. You’ve witnessed his pregame naps, watched him fall asleep in seconds flat. It’s impressive.

You make your way to the bathroom, doing what little you can muster of your nightly routine. When your eyes start to close on their own accord, you shuffle your way back to the bed, in your pajamas now, and study the scene. How best to handle the boy in your bed, how to fit yourself against his body so that you can finally fall asleep like you’ve been aching to do.

Before you get the chance, there’s the shrill sound of a phone alarm, and Jack sits bolt straight up in bed. You stumble over your own feet, hand over your heart again, breath stolen from your lungs. Jack scrambles for his phone. It’s 2:30 am.

He’s rubbing at his eyes when he scans the room and finds you. Then he mirrors your position, eyes wide, hand over his heart.

“Why th’ fuck are you already here?” He mumbles out.

You choke on a laugh. It’s a hell of a greeting. “What?”

He groans. “Set an alarm. T‘go pick you up.”

You blink at him, half his face illuminated in the pale moonlight that spills in through your window. There’s a soft breeze that ruffles his hair and makes him shiver- he’s left the window open slightly, the way you like to sleep. Goosebumps raise on his bare skin. You tear your eyes away.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, bewildered. “I told you to just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, but. I set an alarm,” he repeats. He digs the heel of his palm into his cheek, his lips pulled into a pout. “For 12:30. So I could pick you up.”

You cock your head. “Well, it’s 2:30, so I think you set the wrong alarm.”

He groans loudly, brows furrowed, and then lets out some string of gibberish. He checks his phone again, then sets it down on the nightstand. You watch with curiosity as he flops back down onto the bed, on his back this time, blankets pooling around his waist. He’s bare from the waist up. Not for the first time, you have the urge to press yourself against every inch of his skin.

He seems so untouchable, here. Like in this room, he’s only yours. It’s a heady feeling, to watch him sigh and pout about missing his chance to pick you up from the airport. It’s private, normal, domestic. So few things in your life fit any of those descriptors. It tugs at your heartstrings.

“C’mere,” he calls out, spreading his arms across the mattress again. “Come cuddle.”

You don’t argue. Sleep tugs at your bones the second your head hits the pillow. He tugs at you until you’re plastered against him, the heat of his sleep warm body spreading over you. When he ducks his head to kiss the crown of yours, you sigh happily.

“How was th’ flight?” He asks, his voice still laden with sleep.

“Fine,” you mumble. You’re not really in the mood to talk about it. “Missed you.”

He laughs lightly, his chest rumbling with it under your head. “Missed you more.”

You feel his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up towards his. You blink through your exhaustion to meet his gaze, and you sigh happily when he kisses you, for real this time. His lips are warm and soft, his little bit of stubble scraping against your skin in an almost hypnotic fashion. This is why you told him about the key. You wanted to come home to him.

The rest of the world melts away, and you’re left with just Jack.

….

You wake up at 11:30 the next morning to an empty, cold bed, a hoodie folded neatly on the end of the bed with the number 86 on the shoulder, and a barrage of notifications on your phone. They’re still rolling in, chiming every so often. Your heart lurches.

There are a billion from your manager- something about being careful and bad look and you didn’t even get in until 2:30 so why was he there- and your stomach sinks even further. When you open twitter, there it is. A grainy, blurry set of photos, of Jack’s shoulder and back as he leaves the townhouse, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his white sneakers bright in the blue early morning light. You can’t see his face in any of them, the hood of his jacket pulled up around his head, which is topped with a beanie and sunglasses. He’s almost unidentifiable, but you know the internet. They’ll figure it out.

It’d be easier if you’d never been seen with him in public before, but you have. Months ago, now, at a charity event hosted by a mutual friend. There’s been a photo of you and Jack from that night, chatting away near the bar in the venue, smiles on both your faces. There’d been a barrage of posts and notifications, then, too- eager Devils fans who were excited to see you talking to him, eager fans of your own who had similar feelings, the other way around. And a text from your manager, reminding you of your upcoming movie, of your male costar who you were supposed to maybe-potentially-possibly be in love with. For the press. For the ratings. But Jack had captured your heart that night, with a teasing joke about Hollywood and a soft little grin on his face, and you’d been unable to forget him.

Now you’re here, in your empty bed while Jack is at practice or meetings, or something in between. It’s not the first time. But it feels like it could be the last.

Jack’s a private person. You are, too, when you can be. When you’d first gone out with him after that first night, he’d seemed wary of all the precautions you took to hide from the press. You’d smiled ruefully and told him that if this was going to happen, he’d have to get used to sunglasses indoors and private rooms and stay at home dates. You’d expected it to scare him off. It usually did- you can’t blame any of them, really.

But it’s been months now, and Jack woke up in your bed this morning. So the scaring didn’t really work as planned.

Text me when you wake up.

That’s the text from Jack. No emojis, a period at the end, no life to it. You fight the urge to roll over, press your face into the pillow, and go back to sleep. Try again later. Hope this is a nightmare.

You text him back, something equally as lifeless. He’s probably busy, he probably won’t have time anytime soon, so you’ll have to wait until then to figure this out-

The phone rings. It’s an echo of Jack’s shrill alarm hours ago, except he’s not here to rub at his eyes sleepily and smile at you and make you feel better. Now it’s his contact, the simple “Jack” flashing across your screen. You sigh and swipe to answer.

“Hi,” you say. Your voice cracks on the single syllable, gravelly from stale plane air and travel and disuse.

“Hi,” Jack echoes. His tone is warm. Soft.

You swallow. “I’m-“

“-sorry,” Jack says, talking at the same time as you, saying the exact same words. You blink up at the ceiling above your head.

“What?” You ask, a bit bewildered.

“What?” He repeats. “Why are you sorry?”

You blink again. “Why are you sorry?”

He lets out a huff, one you can almost picture. “I fucked up.”

And this is how it goes. You’d thought of all people, Jack would have the decency to do this in person. To wait until you’re not seconds past waking up. That maybe he’d give you a bit to process before he called it quits, before he says what everyone else has said before him.

It’s too much.

You’d warned him, back when you’d seen him for the 7th time. You’d been laying in his bed, half on top of him, drawing patterns on his bare chest with your pointer finger. He’s asked about labels and how serious this was and if you were seeing anyone else, and told you he wasn’t. All very brave of him, really. You’d been afraid to say anything for weeks.

“Not seeing anyone else,” you’d admitted. “Where would I find the time?”

He’d huffed out a laugh and tucked you close. “Can we maybe keep it that way?”

It should’ve been a red flag. Not on his part, but on yours. You know how this ends, you’ve been down this road before, and you’d known, even then, that this wouldn’t end any differently. Things go smooth until the media catches wind, and then they figure out who he is, and then everyone picks apart every little bit of him until there’s nothing left for you to hold onto. You can’t blame them, all the people you’ve lost to this curse.

You hate the media enough yourself. You can’t imagine subjecting anyone you care about to it.

You’d tried to warn him. About the secrecy that would be required, about how if anyone ever caught wind of it, he’d be subject to the worst scrutiny of his life. He’d tried to insist he understood, that nothing could be worse than his rookie year, that this mattered enough to him to put up with the pressure. But now the pressure is drilling down on the two of you, and he’s crumbling, just like they always do-

“I knew better than to leave out that door,” he says. “There’s always a pap there, you’ve told me about it before,” he says. “I was just. I was in a rush, because I was so comfy this morning, and I forgot, so. I’m sorry.”

You frown. “It’s okay, Jack.”

You’re the one who told him about the key. Who let him stay over, fueled by sleep deprivation and the urge to see him, even just for a little bit. You’ve gone and contributed to your own demise. God, you were going to let him pick you up from the airport. What kind of idiot are you?

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

He scoffs. “They don’t even know it’s me.”

Your gut twists, again. “They will.”

“Mm, maybe my powers of camouflage have worked,” he says. “Maybe I’ve stumped them.”

You don’t bother pointing out that if the press haven’t already figured it out, his fans will. Someone’s bound to point out the grainy Devils logo on his hoodie, the characteristic swoop of his hair. Someone’s bound to have followed him to his car, and they’ve probably already looked up his license plate. They’re probably running it through whatever system they use, and even if Jack is leasing the car he’ll still show as connected to it, and then they’ll dig their claws into him.

“They’re never stumped,” you tell him. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“I know,” he says, voice softer this time. “So. What do we do?”

You pry your eyes open. What do we do? We.

“We?” You choke out.

Jack scoffs. “Yeah, we. I mean. Do we come out and tell everyone, just to take it away from them? Do we lie?”

We. It’s never been a we, before. Not like this. It’s always been flight, never fight. Like everyone before Jack hadn’t thought it was worth it to even try. Had thought you weren’t worth it.

“Jack, you don’t understand,” you tell him. “They’re gonna tear you apart. They’re gonna tear us apart.” Until there’s no us left, you think. “We- we don’t do anything. There’s nothing to do.”

“Not to stop them, no,” he agrees. “But you’ve had this before. How did you and those people handle it? I mean- I can avoid interviews for a while. Nico will take them, he’ll understand. And the All Star break starts soon, so then-“

“They didn’t,” you cut in.

He pauses. “Who didn’t what?”

You sigh, again. “They didn’t handle it, Jack. They broke up with me and left me to handle it and kept going on with their lives. So. Nobody will blame you if you do the same, let alone me. I get it.”

Jack stays quiet for a few moments. The silence hangs between the two of you, heavy and thick. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to say it. Because you always let them do it. No matter how much you’re to blame here, you can’t be the one to end it over this. Not when things were going so well with him.

“I’m coming over,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“Just- stay put. Stay there. I’m on my way,” he says. You hear the jingle of his keys.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You tell him.

“Me neither,” he says.

You don’t bother to warn him that there’ll be added media attention, that the place is probably swarming with people with cameras. You don’t think it’ll change his mind- Jack is stubborn when he’s set on something. And it’s a little late, anyways.

He shows up an hour later, probably having had to fight through insane traffic to get there. You’re back in bed, having only gotten up to brush your teeth before retreating to the safety of it. He lets himself in with the key, and you hear him come up the stairs and shuffle over to your bedroom door.

He stands there, haloed by the hallway light. You roll over to look at him, barely able to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. Maybe he’s just waited to do it in person. Maybe he’s trying to let you down easy. It’s never easy. To lose a relationship like this, before you’re ready.

Things were going so well. You think of nights spent in your kitchen, making dinner together, sharing a bottle of wine. You think of all the hockey games you watched from hotel rooms while you’ve been doing press, and the way Jack answered all your questions on the phone afterwards, never letting on how exhausted he really was. You think of breakfast delivered to your door while he was at away games, and the way he spoke so fondly about his family and friends, how they’d all love you and you’d love them. And now, you’ll never get the chance.

Jack, standing in the doorway, sighs.

He makes his way over to sit on the edge of the bed, and he reaches a hand out to rest against your cheek. You sigh in response. Wait for him to open his mouth, for it to hit. You wait, and wait, and-

“The way I see it, we’ve got a few options,” he says. You blink up at him. “We can just go public, take away the hype about it. We could pretend we have no idea what they’re talking about, just ignore it. We could wait for them figure it out and handle it then. Or-“

You sit up slightly, and he pauses. You know the confusion is written on your face. His gaze softens, blue eyes warmer than they’ve ever been.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says. “I don’t run when things get tough. Come on, you know me better than that.”

You want to tell him you’d thought that about everyone, only for them to run from it all, run from you, at the drop of a hat. But you don’t, because you can tell from the hard set line of his jaw, from the determined bend in his brow, that he means it. That he’s not going anywhere. At least, not without you.

“I wanna run away from it all,” you tell him. “I want to take you somewhere they can’t find us. I want-“ you cut yourself off with a wry laugh. “I just want you, that’s all.”

A smile creeps across his lips, and he leans forward to press them to your forehead. Warmth spreads over your body, all the way down to your fingertips and toes.

“We can make that happen,” he says. You can feel the smile against your skin. “If that’s what you want. I know a place.”

You let out a laugh, one that’s mixed with tears. But when he lays down in the bed and pulls you close, you’re inclined to believe him.

…..

The “place” Jack knows takes hours of travel to get to. It takes packed bags and ditching responsibilities on both of your parts, and dodging questions from your friends. But as he pulls the car into the driveway, you think it’s worth all the hassle. The house is blanketed in soft, fluffy snow, hanging off the branches of the trees and over the edges of the roof. He opens the garage and pulls in, and when the door closes behind you, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

When he’d suggested his Michigan house as the getaway location, you’d been skeptical. Anywhere that was linked to him would be a risk once they figured out who he was. But he’d told you about the security of the neighborhood, the gate at the entrance, and that they’d never been bothered there before. He’d suggested that the two of you could just stay in the house the whole time, and it wouldn’t matter. The press finding out about Jack is inevitable, at this point. But as you walk into his house, you remind yourself that they can’t touch you here. You’ve left them all chasing their tails in New York City and disappeared.

Besides, the snow is coming down harder now. Even the paparazzi wouldn’t brave the weather.

Jack insists on carrying your bags in, and then he shows you around. The living room is first, decorated with photos of him and his brothers. The house is full of hockey memorabilia, you realize, as he shows you around. But it’s also warm. Personal. Home. There’s a photo of him and his brothers as little kids hanging over a fireplace. It makes you smile, the way you recognize the light in Jack’s eyes, the determination on his face. He hasn’t changed a bit. You’ve been in his apartment in New Jersey, but you know now that this is what he considers his real home.

He takes you up to the bedroom before the rest of the house, so you can get settled. You change into even comfier clothes than your travel ones while Jack heads back downstairs and tells you to meet him when you’re ready.

You call out to him a few minutes later when you pad your way down the stairs, and he calls back from a room you haven’t been in yet. When you walk in, he’s standing at the kitchen counter, setting out a bottle of wine. There are fresh flowers in a vase- Jack had said he’d ordered groceries to be delivered, and he must’ve gotten those, too. It’s a sweet touch.

You walk into the middle of the room and look around, a bit in awe. It faces towards the lake, with a large sitting area connected to the open concept kitchen. The lights are low and warm. Along the back wall, there are floor to ceiling picture windows, giving you the perfect view of the icy lake, the snow covered sloping bank, and the houses that dot the shore all around you. Like a postcard, or a hallmark movie. Jack pads his way across the room to you.

“Oh, wow,” you say, quietly.

He nods, his hands falling to your hips from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Pretty, right?”

You nod. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. Still. Quiet. A billion other words pass through your mind. But most of all, it feels safe. Like the whole world could be chasing after you, but here, it’s just you and Jack and the snow. You could run out into it, fall flat on your face, and there’d be nobody there to see it. Or to care.

“Can we go out in it?” You ask him, carefully. Not wanting to break the calm. “It looks so-“

“Yeah,” he agrees, eagerly. “I think we’ve got a pair of boots that’ll fit you.”

Ten minutes later, you waddle through snowdrifts that cover your calves in boots one size too big. You can’t bring yourself to care about the snow in your socks, or the notifications on your phone, or the fact that by now, they’ve probably figured out who Jack is. Because Jack is standing in front of you, and you know who he is far more than they ever will.

He’s the kind of person who stays.

He lobs a snowball at you. It hits your shoulder and crumbles, and he laughs. Pure, loud, happy. You reach down with your mismatched mittens, stolen from their bin of miscellaneous outdoor gear, and form one of your own. You look at him, lining up your aim. Look at his flushed cheeks, his wide grin, the way the snow sticks to his hair and melts on his nose.

“Come on baby,” he says, taunting, arms spread wide. “Hit me with your best shot.”

You drop the poorly formed snowball at your feet and launch yourself at him instead. He’s laughing again by the time you both hit the ground, the snow cushioning his fall. He laughs more when he rolls you over and pins you under him. There’s snow seeping down the back of your shirt, and it makes you shiver. And then he kisses you, and the cold doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing does, except this.

He’s never kissed you anywhere close to the public, both of you too cautious. So much of your relationship has been hidden away. You’d never had a chance like this in New York- no kissing in the rain, under streetlights, no cheek kisses between glasses of wine at fancy restaurants, no holding hands while you walk down the street. But now you’re out under the cloudy sky, surrounded by peace and quiet, and he’s kissing you. You never want to leave this place.

You shiver, again, and he laughs into the kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You think yours are too.

“Come on,” he says. “We should get you warm before you catch hypothermia.”

He suggests a shower. You agree eagerly and pull him under the spray with you. The cold melts away, along with the rest of your worries.

Later, you’ll drink wine and make dinner and watch some old movie he’s been insisting you need to see. Later, you'll curl up basically on top of him in bed, surrounded by him, feeling more at peace than you have in months. Tomorrow, he’ll wake up before you do, and come back with coffee from his favorite place in town, and wake you up in bed with it, made just the way you like. And you’ll look at him and thank him. Not just for the coffee, but for bringing you to a place that means so much to him. For letting you in on his little bit of comfort.

You won’t have to say it out loud. He’ll already know.

[dollfacefantasy]

dark and mean Rick X whiny reader, s5 beard era??? (Ugh loveee😩) maybe reader annoyed him so he fucks her attitude away<3

NO BACK TALK ♡

pairing: rick grimes x bratty!fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), p in v, brat taming, age gap (20s, late 30s), daddy kink

a/n: brat tamer rick you know that's my shit 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank you for the request <33

"What was it? What were you saying back there?" Rick's raspy voice huffs against your ear.

A shiver goes down your spine as his hot breath lands on your skin. Sharp contrast to the cool night air all around. Your body is already shaky enough from his hips' brutal thrusts against your ass.

He has you pinned against the back wall of the church, split open on his cock. This spot is close enough to the safety of the group while providing the privacy he needs to have his way with you. Your cheek squishes against the wood, a small stream of drool trickling South on your chin.

"N-nothing," you whimper, "Was just trying to tell you- ah! Just wanted to tell you..."

Your voice trails off as the sentiment of your point becomes less important than the bliss Rick's length is battering into you. Soft moans drift from your lips as your mouth hangs open. He tuts and shakes his head, pressing more of his weight into you and rutting against your backside with more force.

"You're still tryin' to talk back?" he asks, "Still think you had a reason to give me all that attitude?"

"I said I was sorry," you whine, bottom lip jutting out on instinct.

This is the game you play with Rick. You're sure by now everyone else is sick of being unwilling bystanders to it, but you can never get enough. Ever since you met the older man, the two of you mixed together like a stray match in a keg of gunpowder.

He tries his hardest to lead this group. You know that's true. But life fucking sucks in the apocalypse. It's not your fault if you get a little fed up with things sometimes.

You take it out on him cause it's easy. You disagree with his plans without coming up with any of your own. You complain about assignments you're given. You whine about the lack of supplies and direction. You roll your eyes and sigh during minor disagreements while nearly throwing a fit for larger ones.

For the first six months he knew you, it drove him fucking crazy. He went to sleep at night dreading waking up because he knew he'd have to deal with you the next day. At one point, he was convinced that he'd die of high blood pressure before any walker got the chance to kill him.

But then he figured out the secret to dealing with you. It wasn't too long before the prison fell that he learned this little trick. The two of you were the only ones awake, and you had another huge fight about some inconsequential bullshit. He was supremely frustrated. You weren't showing any signs of conceding that you were being ridiculous either.

It's like a blur in his memory now, the way he pinned you against the hard brick wall. He tore open the tiny shorts you had on. And that was when he learned. Your pretty little pussy was like your control center. He just had to hit the right buttons to bring you back to normal.

Now when you act up, he gives you the chance to fix it. You'll say something in that pitchy tone of voice and pout at him, and he'll raise a brow. He'll ask you to repeat yourself. If you continue the challenge, he still tries to be civil and talk you down. But once you push too far, you end up with a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

That's what happened tonight.

He scoffs at your assertion that you'd apologized. "You said sorry when you realized you were in trouble," he grumbles.

His fingers dig into your waist, feeling the soft skin left exposed by your t-shirt that's riding up. Your toes curl inside your sneakers while your fingernails scrape against the chipping paint of the church's paneling.

"I still meant it," you insist.

"If you're so sorry, tell me why I have to teach you this same fuckin' lesson over and over again," he growls.

"I dunno... cause you didn't do it good enough the first time?" you offer.

He gives your hip a smack for that and shoves you harder against the wall with a forearm across your back. You can feel the cool silver of his watch on your shoulder blade. Your tits are just as smooshed as your cheek is now. You whine in response, your feet floundering against the dirt below, but he keeps fucking into you hard.

"Cute. Keep talking back like that and see where it gets you," he says.

"I was just joking, daddy," you respond with a little sniffle for maximum impact.

"Oh, I'm daddy now?" he mocks. Neither of your attempts at sympathy seem to have struck a chord. "I'm daddy when you want me to be nice to you, but not any other time. Do I have that right?"

"Nuh uh..."

"Yeah. You won't listen to me. Won't do anything I ask without givin' me hell. But the second you get tired of taking it like a big girl, I'm your daddy," he taunts.

You squeak as he yanks your hips against his pelvis particularly hard. His tip rams right into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. It knocks the breath from your lungs. Your knees start to buckle beneath you.

He watches as you really begin to slip. With a sigh, he pulls his cock out of your dripping hole. You whine about that too, of course, but you don't have time to complain before he flips you around and hooks his hands behind your knees. He folds you in half against the wall and slides right back into the slick heat of your cunt. His hips rock against you like they never stopped.

"Look at you. You think you have any right to question me when you can't even stand up on your own? When y'need daddy to do everything for you," he mutters.

You mewl and arch your back, but he keeps you exactly where he wants you. His shaft slams into you over and over, chasing the feeling of your walls clamping down on it. You can't fight back against what he's saying cause any semblance of cohesive argument has been fucked right out of you.

"Did-didn't mean it," you choke out.

"Then say sorry like you mean it," he breathes.

He pumps into you harder and deeper, making it difficult for you to answer. But you try your best because you're getting close, and after you cum, it'll be damn near impossible.

"I- I'm sorry, daddy. Didn't mean to make you mad. I'll try to be good and listen," you say before a whine cracks your voice and causes your head to drop forward.

He nudges your face up with his nose before rewarding you with a kiss. "That's my girl," he mumbles, "Gonna listen for me. Accept that you don't know what's best, hm? That you need me to take care of you and make the decisions?"

You nod with your quivering lip and glossy eyes.

That gets a little smirk on his lips, and he kisses your pout once more. His hand snakes around to thumb at your clit. The rapid fire swipes are all you need to topple over the edge and let go. You tense up and cover your own mouth, muffling your cries with your palm.

"There you go. Let it out," he grunts.

He grits his teeth, holding on long enough to fuck you through your high. As soon as you start to come down though, he pulls out and spills his seed onto the dirt beneath you.

His body shudders against yours, another set of harsh breaths blowing against your neck. You lean your head against his. The sweat that dampens his scalp smears on your cheek.

The both of you hold the position for a few moments longer before beginning to untangle. He sets you back on the ground, keeping his hands on your waist until he's sure you're stable. You pull your discarded shorts back on and adjust your shirt while he zips himself up.

When you're put together again, he grabs your wrist like he'd done earlier but with a more gentle touch. He pulls you flush against his body and encircles you with his arms, keeping you pressed to his chest. His hand rubs up and down your back in soothing strokes.

"My baby. All tuckered out and settled down for me now, yeah?" he whispers.

You nod, your eyes already feeling droopy with the calm that comes after release. His embrace is so warm it lulls you further into this docile, dreamy state.

Rick rolls his eyes again, but there's not as much irritation this time. A good fuck mellows him out just like it does you. Plus, in moments like these, he can admit to himself that he has a small soft spot for his little brat.

He sways back and forth with you for a few moments, planting occasional kisses on the top of your head.

"You gonna behave when we go back inside?" he murmurs.

"Yeah," you answer softly.

"That's my girl," he says, patting your ass before turning you loose. He lets you walk back around to the entrance first. While he has a great time putting you back in line, these trysts aren't really something he wants the whole group being hyper aware of. It's after a few minutes have gone by that he heads in himself, ready to mix back in with everyone else as if nothing had happened.

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader

John Price, former two-time Wold Champion, the Bear of the Ring, back from retirement. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, a newcomer, moving on up to the big leagues. The Golden Boy of London. John "Soap" MacTavish, the Street Fight Champion, the half of the most menacing duo in WWE history. And "Ghost," the Shadow of the Ring, who won last seasons duo Championship with Soap.

an: i JUST got into wwe, so sorry for any inaccuracies! correct me, it's always fun to learn more :3 also also! my first full fic 😭😭 got SO SCARED posting this so sorry if it low key sucks, if it doesn't, i have plans for a second one + shoutout to my awsome beta reader (my best friend)

(masterlist, 2)

Recently, one of the announcers retired after a long career, and WWE scrambled to find a suitable replacement that wouldn't cause an uproar in the dedicated fanbase.

They chose you. A person with an impressive resume and a quick wit, willing to be accidentally trampled if need be. And the best part for the company? The fans love you, some even making compilations and edits of you. Of the few moments you get shown on camera at least. (The wrestlers are the main event.) And the wrestlers seem to like you just fine. Better than the refs and each other, at least. The 141 seem to like you the most, though.

Price, just coming back from a short retirement, was the first match you narrated. You loved him growing up, the finishing moves, the walkout song (Thunderstruck AC/DC,) everything. He put the attitude in the Attitude Era, the main event, the headliner. Then he retired.

You cried during his final show. Being one of the live announcers for his comeback now is huge for you.

He walked out on the ring, fought like hell, and at one point he slung his opponent over the net and the guy crashed into your table. Admittedly it was a little frightening, but seeing John Price drag the guy kicking and screaming back into the ring by his hair was enough of a reward. And the gruff "Sorry, dove," he said to you certainly didn't make anything worse.

But you thought that was it for the nicknames.

Until Gaz. Every match he has, whenever he has the mic, he's referencing you at least once, with an added "Love" or "Sunshine" to it. That alone gave you a thousand more followers on your Instagram, but the post he made on Twitter? At least ten thousand. And it wasn't anything major, but being the "Golden Boy" comes with certain privileges, and he uses them well. You start researching him after that, and he hasn't done that for any other announcer.

Soap and Ghost’s first team-up of the season has them against the men they stole the Duo Champions titles from. Graves and Makarov. Match made in Hell, the two of them. They can't stand each other, but they hate the 141 boys enough to justify a team-up.

During the match, Soap broke Makarov's arm. Maybe he just forgot it wasn't his usual rules, or maybe it was the reference he made to you during the pre-fight trash-talk session. Either way, Ghost had his back, as always, and covered for him by throwing the rest of the match as the script told them to. Either way, they were disqualified.

And you? You're having the time of your life. The fights are right up by your face, the adrenaline rush right there, and this time you actually get to chase it.

Maybe you're egging them on a bit. Grinning like mad during Price's first match, responding to Gaz's tweet and comments with nothing short of glowing praise, giving colorful commentary during Soap and Ghost’s fight. But who can blame you, really? For liking your job, for entertaining people.

Maybe that's why this match, the grand match between Task Force 141 and The Shadows is packed. You entertain people just as much as the wrestlers.

The lights flash, Thunderstruck plays, the 141 boys walk out. Then here comes Graves for a rematch against the ones who broke his arm, complete with his entourage behind him. Surprisingly the whole broken arm thing fits the storyline well, after some panicking from the writers and producers.

"Your boy broke my arm." Graves starts, grin sharp, canines poking out. Grinning despite the red-hot pain in his arm.

"We do what we have to. Keep your mouth shut next time, aye?" It's a measured response from Price, but the headbutt Soap does as soon as the sentence settles is definitely not.

"Grab your popcorn people, the world's Street Fight Champion Soap is jumping right into the fight!" And there's your voice, over the speakers. Sounding thrilled.

The fans both cheer and jeer and Ghost’s chant is started up, a steady thump, thump, of boots on the floor of the stadium.

The fight starts without much else, men thrown and chairs cracked over heads. With the disadvantage Graves has, it's clear who will win, but the play-by-play is still fun to give.

"Oh! And Graves has got Soap on the ropes, can he break his hold- and Ghost runs up behind him, always on his six, yanking Graves away! This is the Champion duo ladies and gentlemen."

And maybe it's distracting the boys a little. Maybe Johnny puffs up a little when you point out his title, maybe Ghost looks over at the booth for a little too long. Just maybe. And just maybe that gives the Shadows an opening for a takedown move or two. And just maybe, the 141 loses twice in a row.

[writingoddess1125]

My Darling Dove

König x Plus Size FemReader

Soooo Ive had this in my drafts for over a year (Peak Koniq era) and touched it up a bit- There was a part two if anyone wanted that since it has some serious NSFW, I Hope you guys enjoy?

Warnings: Fluff, Bullying, Violence (not on reader), some Angst/Body Insecurities, Start of spice (would be in pt 2)

Support me on Ko-Fi

Masterlist <-

His Liebling- Schatz- Perle, Maus.

He could think of a million names for you, but one would always beat the rest.

His wife.

Having met long ago when he was a fresh faced marine and you were a green medic. Both of you awkward and shy, yet fitting together like a puzzle piece. He loved you- and you loved him, more then words could ever hope to express.

He'd gotten home from deployment the evening before, excited to see you and spend some much needed quality time with his darling wife. Washing up as fast as possible, as he knew you hated him jumping in bed still smelling of old blood and sweat.

Rushing in fresh boxers that truthfully were barely on him since hed plan to take them off anyway, he'd caught you at the perfect time it seemed-

Seeing you getting dressed in your nightclothes, as he placed his hands on your waist almost salivating like an animal as his hands immediately went to try at the waistband-

However he saw the scramble of you pull on rather baggy pants, hiding the figure he loved so much- How your flash of almost panic at him seeing you, which threw him off incredibly.

"My Dove? Are you okay?" König whispered softly, noticing your apprehension and shyness much to his confusion.

"I'm fine love just.. maybe not tonight?- I don't feel too great" You said softly, König nodding and moving his hands away from your pants and carefully wrapping around your waist.

"Of course Maus"

König cuddled you that night, spooning you but he noticed immediately you seemed uncomforble and distant. Pulling at your shirt to cover your body more-

He didn't say anything about it, but he knew something was wrong- Very wrong.

Which lead him to his current state. Seated in his office on base thinking deeply- He hadn't even seen you this morning when you changed to go do your shift, normally getting quite some eyefulls of you before you left but not today. You'd gone as far to change in the bathroom before giving him his kiss goodbye.

Maybe it was the sexual frustration of not getting to sleep with you or his now general worry for you, however it was plaguing him and he couldn't focus...

His face twisted in a scowl under his hood as he tapped his fingers on his desk looking at the reports from his last assignment.

Standing up suddenly he walked out of his office, Files in hand as he walked straight to Horangi- Handing the man the files a bit harsher then intended.

Horangi looking to the man almost amused as he could practically smell the stress from the male.

"Problems in paradise I take it?"

König shot a glare- before rubbing his face under his mask with a heavy sigh. Horangi and a fairly decent portion of any higher ranking soldiers and staff knew you were his wife, seeing however wherever he went you went- It had been a fight with those higher then him, however it had been seen as a leash to keep their best in check-

A price König was willing to pay to keep you close.

"No.. She's is acting odd.. almost jumpy" He grumbled, Now the other soilder now seemingly surprised by this-

"I need to check on her- Do these" König said as he pointed to the files and marched out of the building, marching over to the medical quarters he knew you would be in.

Walking in he had seen it was rather busy, a fair amount of new recruits there paired with some frequent flyers. Nothing that didn't surprise him at least, his eyes scanning around silently as he turned the corner to find you.

"It's like watching a hippo-"

König paused mid step, Hearing the voice and slowly moving so he could glance from around said corner to hear who was saying this and at who- always being one to correct such childish behavior no matter what.

"Yeah but at least a hippo has better grace- (Y/N) is like the blob-" The young men cackled.

König was never so greatful for having silent footsteps before- his arms crossed over his vested chest as he watched two young Cadets gawk at you and cackle amongst themselves as they sat on their medical cots clearly just there to avoid duty- their gaze clearly only on you. He saw how you flinched ever so slightly at their words, clearly able to hear their squawking but choosing to continue working.

"Still big girls are desperate- So I bet she's easy if not a chubby little barracks bunny" one of the men cackled- König seeing your shoulders flinch at their words once more and turn away as your hands seemed to go over the medicine needing to be dished out. His body starting to shake as he stood there, rage filling his very soul.

"I'd have peel those pants off those thighs like trying to take a pillow out of a pillow case" They cackled, clearly other staff seeing this but seeing how these Cadets had been rising through their ranks fairly fast- it would be a surprise if they threatened some of the staff by the way the other medics and nurses seemed to avoid them.

"Bet her thighs are like silly putty" This made the two break out in childish giggles.

Konig was beet red at this point- listening to these two disrespect his wife who was trying to work. Knowing damn well you could hear every word these idiots were saying but trying to be polite and not cause a fuss or rock the boat- Most likely for his sake to keep him at his best behavior.

However that went out the window when he saw your cheeks red and bottom lip quiver like tears were about to fall as you march off to a separate room to hand out the medicine in hand.

König felt a hollowness run through him- seeing the way you practically sprinted away.

His kind sweet wife-

The women he cuddled at night, who treated his wounds and he cared for more then life itself-

The sweet woman who ran away almost in tears cause of two unimportant waste of air...

"You think so?"

König growled out, the two Cadets jumping up quickly at hearing his voice and saluting their superior.

"Colonel König-" The two young men squawked out wide eyed at the rage in their commanders eyes.

"So this is what two men on base do? Harass the medics?"

The men looked to each other, seeing a crazed and enraged look in their Colonels eye as he stepped towards them. His hands flexing like just craving to reach for the gun to his hip-

"Harrass MY Wife?-"

He all but snarled, his voice usually light and nasally now so low it rumbled their chest. The men's faces turning white as snow as their eyes widened, fear gripping their hearts. Before they could open their quivering lips to squeak out an apology the large man hands shoot out and grab them by their necks and squeeze- Pathetic squeals of pain leaving the men as they tried to try away from the giants hold and escape.

Every muscle in his arm seemed to flex as he pulled the two close to him to make sure he got to see the very light leave their eyes.

"You DARE sit here, insulting the light of my life? Dishonor her as she saves your miserable little lives.. I'm going to correct that now" He grits out as he squeezes tighter feeling the cracks under his hands and the feeling of their body struggle for air under his grasp.

You had only left the room from a moment when you heard those squeals- Rushing back to see your husband clearly about to kill the two men who had been bullying you as the other medics made sure to stand as far away as possible as König literally had the two lifted off the ground as they squirmed desperate for their lives.

"König!" You call out and rush to your husband, laying both hand on him to try and pry his hands off the two men from strangling them to death, but his calloused hands were like iron and in no way they where coming off from you pulling.

"Darling please-e you'll kill them!"

"...Even now- my Sweet Darling Perle here wishes for me to spare you. The one you wished to insult!" He yelled, you staring at him surprised by him raising his voice as his accent seemed to come even heavier.

You were surprised by how angry König was- especially openly. He was quite the reserved man and rarely truly got angry let alone enough to were he would burst like this- already seeing some other officers coming closer incase they had to take control.

"Kö?-" You ask softly, gently reaching up to have him look at you. Making his eyes meet yours as you used the gentle Nickname to ease him. His pale blue eyes now red with rage locking onto you making a trinkle of fear wash though only slightly.

"I need you to let them go, Please...Please" You begged softly, you already knew the two men would need serious medical attention after this as they where blue in the face and clearly moments from passing out from lack of oxygen as their movements slowed and began shaking.

...5 seconds passed

Then another ... 10 seconds passed

König closed his eyes finally and released the two men who collapsed to the ground like dolls, barely alive at this point. You signing in relief as two medics terrified grabbed the men to pull away to receive medical attention.

König however was still staring at you like he was looking you over silently and a feeling washed over you- Shame... You knew he saw it as well, as embarrassment of allowing yourself to be talked down to and your husband finding out in such a way, ate at you. König however grabbed your hand quickly and with as much gentleness as he could possibly muster as he lead you out of the office, no one would dare stop him anyways after the scene he just made.

He lead the two of you back to the base provided housing the two of you shared, He had been silent the whole walk there. It made your stomach do backflips as he lead you in first, you looking to him still waiting to hear something- Anything!

But instead he took off your medical clogs, and his own boots. Setting them to the side as he took your hand again and lead you upstairs. Tossing his sniper mask away somewhere along the way to your shared bedroom.

"...Kö?.." You say softly, But he doesn't stop. Instead walking both of you to the master bedroom and setting you on the bed. As he dug through the dresser, tossing things at random around as he seemed on a mission before your eyes.

"Felix?" You finally say, seeing how he stopped and looked back at you. Much to your surprise his eyes were soft, so very soft-

"Ja, mein Herz?" He said as softly as his gaze at you, reaching back in the drawer as he seemed to find exactly what he was looking for.

You open your mouth to speak- But unsure what to say. Shifting a bit uncomforbly as embarrassment still bubbled in your chest.

"I'm sorry.." You mumbled out, Unsure of what else to say. He closed his eyes, closing the drawer silently as he held the fabric in his hands calmly.

"Why are you apologizing?" He questioned softly, walking over to you as you looked down at your bare feet, seeing his shadow loom over you.

"Better question is why you let them insult you.. Why?" Your silence followed for a few seconds before it felt like a dam burst through you.

"I.. I.. I thought in some way.. they were right" You finally let the words fumble from your lips- Still not meeting your husband's gaze as tears began to roll down your cheeks trying to wipe them with the best of your abilties.

"It's hard.. It's so hard sometimes to act like they don't effect me- It's just I know I'm not tiny or- what people assume- I just, All the talks of you and supposed brothels-s and I-Im not the little fit girls who stare up at you- I thought I'd be used to it- I-I just feel like I- it was like they w-were the voice in the back of my head"

Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you sobbed- unsure of what pent up emotion brought this on, Maybe it was the late nights on missions- or the whispers of nurses talking about how a lot of soilder would go rush to brothels to get away from their wives- How they all had in some way a inkling of desire for your husband either for power, his size or even just because they thought they could.

It just had all had slammed into you at once as you cried sitting there on the bed, König staring down at you as you let it all out.

He down settling on his knees before you. Beginning to wipe your tears with his hands as you sniffled and tried to stop your tears. Caressing your flushes cheeks as he stared at you, only love in his eyes as he kissed your forehead softly.

"(Y/N), What silly silly thoughts you have my Darling Wife.. Thinking id run chasing crusty little skirts and fowl smelling panties when I have the prettiest wife on earth?" He said with a soft smile.

A smile went over your lips slowly as you sniffled and let a giggle leave you. "Dont be rude Felix" You manage out as you smile at your husband- He tsk dismissively.

"Its True Perle! You are the most darling women in the world, If you think I'd run in such petty things- Clearly I have not shown you how much he you mean to me"

He held your hands close, kissing them as he stared at you.

"You are and will always be the only women for me. I'll do anything for you- Ill never dishonor you. You are most precious to me" He said softly, watching the way your eyes shone as a smile crept over your lips. Much happier tears now in your eyes making him smile as he kissed your cheeks once more.

"Cry baby..." He said softly earning a giggle from you and the softest tap to his outer thigh with your foot. König leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, his hands unwrapping from your own as he held your cheek with one as another wrapped around your hip to pull you close.

"Felix?" You Squeak out as you looked up to your husband taking off the top of his uniform with a grin as he stared down at you like you were his last meal and he was a starved man- reaching his hands under your scrubs starting to slide them up feeling your soft skin underneath with a damn near giddy gleam.

You hadn't even noticed till you felt yourself being tilted back and your back hitting the back of the mattress. König pulling back from the kiss to properly move up towards you.

His massive form now shadowing you as he leaned over you.

"Now My Darling Dove, allow me to show truly how much I adore you and your body in every way~"

[dannyriccsupremacy]

suburban legends | CL16

| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau

| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.

| faceclaim : christina nadin

| part one here ! part two here !

youruser just posted a story!

yn, her bff, chloe, julia and amelia all sat at a cafe by the water catching up. their drunken plans from the club bathroom that night had turned into a reality, and they were all so excited to see each other- and follow each other on social media.

as they were chatting, giggling with each other, your bff suddenly gasped and scoffed.

"whats that for?" yn asked, slighting laughing at her antics.

"ex-o'clock." she said sipping her drink, "yours, not mine."

"what?!" yn exclaimed, giving her bff a look, "definitely him?"

your bff nodded, rolling her eyes. the other three girls were avidly looking at everyone in the vicinity, trying to work out which man was eliciting this reaction from the duo.

"brown hair, sunglasses, white shirt, two o'clock." your bff answered their unspoken question.

the trio's eyes landed on the man at the same time, and amelia suddenly went white. soon the other four's attention was on her, concerned.

"miels, what's wrong?" julia asked, placing her hand on amelia's arm.

"oh, n-nothing." amelia shook her head.

"no, honey, what's wrong?" chloe questioned, her curiosity peaking.

"i feel awful. i didn't know, i swear." amelia apologised frantically.

"know what?" yn furrowed her brows.

"he's the one i'm talking to right now. charles is the one i'm seeing. and yn, your the ex he isn't over yet." amelia blurted, cheeks turning pink.

"amelia... i am so, so sorry." yn apologised, a sympathetic expression on her face.

"yn! do not apologise. especially not for a man!" amelia scolded, laughing slightly, "i was going to break things off with him anyway. he is well and truly still in love with you."

yn smiled sadly, taking another glance at the man, only to find him already staring at her, love still shining in his eyes.

liked by lilymhe, sacreskin + 90,367 others

youruser bros b4 hoes 😉

view all 16,324 comments

yourbff words of wisdom

user omg is this about that one tweet??

ameliahobart bros 4ever

user in her post breakup popularity era

user yn is so hot

juliaverner marry me pls!!

↳ chloedarren she said no hoes maam 🚫

user i bet charles misses her

lilymhe no hoes here 🙅‍♀️

↳ alex_albon lily???

↳ carmenmundt get over yourself albono. sucks 4 u

↳ georgerussell63 carmen???

↳ youruser please no hoes in the comment section. read the sign.

↳ francisca.cgomes yeah scram

↳ pierregasly kika???

↳ user i love the unhingedness in yns comment section

amelia sat across from yn, a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

"look, yn, i really like you and i really want to stay friends with you, so i just really need to tell you this so i don't think that our entire friendship is built on lies." amelia blurted, causing the confused look on yn's face. yn nodded for her to continue.

"basically, charles hired me. i'm an aspiring actress and i answered a call he had put out for someone that fit my description. when i sat down and met him for the first time, he explained that he wanted someone to pretend that they were his girlfriend to make his ex- you- jealous." she explained, wringing her hands together.

"when i first met you, i didn't know you were the ex, but he told me to keep up the act with everyone since monaco is such a small place and everyone talks." she took a breath, "but then when your bff pointed out him as your ex, i wanted to say something, but i really liked you so i didn't want to ruin the friendship we had already created."

yn sat in silence as she took in the girl's words. "okay."

"okay?" amelia was nervous, "just okay? is that like a bad okay, or is it a good okay?"

"a good okay," yn smiled, "i really want to keep being your friend so i'm so happy that you told me now. i definitely would of had to re-evaluate the relationship if it happened later down the line."

"oh thank god!" amelia let out a sigh of relief, at which yn laughed, "but i do want to let you know that charles still truly loves you. like he would not shut up about how amazing you are. i have only heard his side of the story, but if i were you, i would definitely get back together with him."

"he kissed me in a way that screwed me up forever, then i broke my own heart because he was too afraid to do it." yn responded, thinking back on their relationship.

"sounds like you were born to be suburban legends!" amelia giggled.

"i think i might." yn grinned.

"now i did meet his friend lando... what's his deal?"

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff + 95,375 others

youruser our mismatched star signs surprised everyone 🤷‍♀️

view all 21,598 comments

yourbff pop off ig

↳ youruser slay

pierregasly at least he doesn't mope around anymore

↳ youruser aw honey you moped?

↳ charles_leclerc FALSE. LIES. MISINFORMATION.

user MY PARENTS!!!! ARE BACK TOGETHER!!!

↳ user NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE!!!

user i cant believe theyre back together

user honestly... i would too

ameliahobart the cutest couple!! (set me up with ykw pls!!)

↳ juliaverner dont manipulate them

↳ ameliahobart but i manipulated them together 😔

↳ chloedarren 🎶 cause [she's] a mastermind 🎶

user NATIONAL TREASURES.

authors note i literally took so long to get this part out i am so sorry!! but this will be the last part. a spin off may occur 👀

@allywthsr @sunny44 @coolio2195 @multi-fanss @babyliz43-blog @redbullgirly @smnthnclj @d3kstar @living-with-ghost @noonesgoneuntiltheyregone

[fuctacles]

Remember late bloomers ?

Love popping into my wips and finding finished stuff I should have posted ages ago

Jeff gently informs him that getting running gear for the first date is a bit of an overkill.

“There is so much wrong with that idea. First of all, you hate running. Exercising, in general. And second, this is kinda pathetic.”

Eddie gasps.

“How dare you!”

“Dude, you just officially met today. Why would you waste money on something you might use once and then never again?”

Jeff was, of course, none the wiser that Eddie was about to enter his fit era. He’s going to jog every morning from now on, he’ll get cute matching sets with Miss Stephanie, drink smoothies, and get a gym pass. He’s going to turn his life around, lose the tummy fat he’s been harboring all winter, and turn it into a sixpack. Their fans are going to love it. Stephanie, too. They’ll run off into the sunset—or sunrise—together, they’ll make and raise the healthiest little babies—

“Are you planning your wedding or something?” Jeff interrupts his daydreams with a scoff.

Eddie bristles.

“I’ll be planning your funeral if you don’t start supporting your perpetually single friend,” he bites back.

Jeff raises his eyebrows.

“You sure that’s what you should be saying to the only friend who can lend you some jogging clothes?”

“Uh…”

“Thought so.” And Eddie hates his satisfied smirk but he’s desperate so he bites his tongue. “So, what you really need are good running shoes…”

He feels all kinds of stupid in his sporty get-up. He’s wearing his old Reeboks he wears only when his shitkickers are in repair (he will wear them to his grave), Jeff’s tracksuit pants, and his lucky Ozzy t-shirt. He woke up extra early today and his mug of coffee was almost empty by the point she, Stephanie, rounded the corner.

His mind goes blank when he recognizes his hoodie.

Maybe he hasn't woken up yet. What other explanation was there for this beautiful creature, backlit by the rising sun, to be walking up to him, decked in bright-colored leggings, and tank top and his hoodie, clashing unforgivingly with its blackness?  How else would he get a date with her if it wasn't a dream?

"You're actually dressed for running," she observes. No 'hello', no 'good morning', just her eyes roaming over his body from above. He quickly jumps up from the porch steps.

"Yeah! Lemme just..." He motions to the door with the mug, then quickly gulps down the last mouthful. "Want some water?" he asks, hand on the door. 

Stephanie's eyes snap up to his face.

"Yes."

It's weird, the way she says it, the way her eyes wander over his body. There's no way he's looking that good in borrowed sweats. They have some ugly gym logo on the side too.

"I don't really own gym clothes, but my friend was nice enough to share his," he explains, letting her in. She hums absentmindedly and follows him into the kitchen. He puts the mug in the sink and grabs a glass to fill it with freshly filtered water. When he turns around she's right there, now without the hoodie which she hung over on one of the chairs. Her tits are right there, but he holds her gaze, like a gentleman.

"Thanks." She takes the glass from him and takes a tiny sip, not breaking eye contact. Then puts it aside, on the counter behind him. "What's your stance on making out on the first date?"

Eddie's brain starts screaming.

"Not opposed to it," he answers and is immensely proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"Great," she says, almost relieved, as if he could give any other answer than an enthusiastic "ravish me, lady," and gently grabs his face, thumbs rubbing on the stubble along his jaw. She gives him a second to back away before leaning in.

She kisses his lips, just a little peck, a gentle caress. Dives in for another, and one more. Eddie reaches up to run his hands from her elbows up to her shoulders and feels little tremors running through her body. He frowns.

"Steph...?"

She groans instead of answering and her little kisses turn to kitten licks. When he parts his mouth for her, she licks across it, tongue pulling on his upper lip. He yelps in a pleasant surprise.

"I come here with innocent intentions," she says, her voice a bit strained, dipping into lower registers. "And you sit here, with your scrawny little ass in gym sweats." She lets go of his face so her hands can squeeze his waist minutely, before hauling him up onto the counter behind him. He squeaks, less dignified than the sounds he made before, holding onto her. Stephanie presses in and he opens his legs for her without hesitation. "And your dirty old sneakers, ready to jog with me. Eager like a puppy."

Eddie whines at the comparison.

"I'm not," he protests. He's just an adult man confronted with a beautiful woman out of his league.

"You're not?" she asks condescendingly against his ear. She's been rubbing her cheek against his stubble, nosing along the bones like she's the dog, trying to rub her scent all over him. Now she leans back to pout at him. Her lips are plush and pink and they haven't been kissed enough yet. "But I like strays."

Eddie's brain short-circuits.

"Uh... bark?"

She laughs and grips his thighs before capturing his mouth. She dominates the kiss without struggle and Eddie lets her use his mouth to her heart's content. He just wraps his arms around her neck and takes it, moves his tongue where she guides him. He can feel her hands on his thigh itching to touch more, but he doesn't want to part long enough to let her know she can, that she can take whatever she wants.

Eventually, she slides her hands up, thumbs digging into the crease of his thighs, and he mewls. His face immediately goes red at the sound that just left him.

"Well, that's something I'm not gonna un-hear."

Stephanie freezes and moves to pull away, but he traps her with his legs around her waist and presses his face against her shoulder, to hide his shame. Of course this is when Jeff decided to get up and walk into the kitchen.

"Uh, I'm sorry? And, good morning," Stephanie offers, seeing as her actual host won't be of any help. He makes a little wounded sound against her shoulder and she swats his thigh. 

"Good morning," Jeff offers back. "Stephanie, right?"

"Yeah."

"Jeff. I live here too, unfortunately. I was under the impression you were going out for a run, though?" He raises his eyebrows. "Did I lend him my exclusive membership sweats for nothing?"

"They're yours? Can we keep them?" she asks immediately. Eddie presses his nails into her skin not to make a sound at how she said 'we'. "He almost has an ass in them."

"Hey!" It's the first thing he says since Jeff walked in and the first time he moves away from the safety of Stevie-shield. Thankfully, his friend looks mostly amused, not angry or disgusted.

"Please," he makes a face. "I don't want them anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eddie's eyes narrow, the familiar back and forth giving him enough courage to release Stephanie from the clutch of his legs. She doesn't move far, just enough so the three of them can look at each other and chat comfortably. Well, considering the situation.

"I just saw you dry humping in them and you dare ask me?" Jeff scoffs.

The two culprits start protesting over each other with "We weren't dry humping!" and "We were just kissing?!" but he stops them, raising both his hands.

"I don't care! Just take them and leave the kitchen! I need some caffeine before work and the only bodily fluid I want in it comes from cow tits."

"Ew, dude," Eddie groans, but Stephanie lets out a surprised snort. 

"We're leaving!" she promises, pulling Eddie down from the counter. He scrambles to find balance but she grabs his hand to steady him. Despite them just making out, that's what makes his heart skip a beat. "it was nice to meet you, Jeff!" she offers, waving on her way out of the kitchen.

"Likewise. Good luck on your run!" he calls after them.

"Thanks!" 

Through the windows, he can still see them, Stephanie fixing Eddie's rumpled t-shirt while he's staring up at her with the dumbest expression he's ever seen. And he's seen a lot of them from his friend. 

"Good for him," he mutters to himself with a fond smile. 

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hiii! I read your post-Rook’s Rest Aegon angst story and omg it was so perfect!! I loved it so much! I have a weakness for angst and you write it so well!!

If your requests are still open, could I ask for some more Aegon angst or hurt/comfort? I would love your take on his struggles during season 1/pre-coronation!

Thank you so much for all the wonderful little stories and headcanons you’re putting out there, I’m reading and enjoying each and every one ❤️

Oooo great question!! Honestly I somehow didn’t even consider the angsty side of this so I’m so glad you brought it up! And thank you so much for the kind words, they mean so much and help me stay motivated. So without further ado, here’s the angsty season one aegon thoughts :))

(While there’s nothing sexual in these thoughts, there are definitely dom/sub undertones, specially sub!Aegon so bare that in mind before you continue reading.)

So firstly, I think you’d be introduced to Aegon a few weeks before he actually became king. Everyone knew that his father’s health was declining, and that Aegon would soon be king. And, everyone knew how ill equipped Aegon was to be king.

Originally, Aegon was supposed to marry Helena. That plan was cancelled pretty soon when Allicent realised that Helena was not at all up to the task of managing and controlling Aegon. Because that’s exactly why she needed to marry him. She was as fast losing her influence over him and he has not at all ready to be a ruler, so she had to find him a wife who would be harsh and strict with him and who would be able to control him.

Even worse, Allicent doesn’t hide this desire from Aegon at all. She openly tells him that she’s arranged a wedding with the daughter of another house specifically because this daughter has a reputation of being firm and unwavering and not taking nonsense. Allicent spells out to him that she doesn’t think he can rule so she has had to find a bride for him that will be able to control him and stop him from making a fool of himself.

Aegon doesn’t think he’s ever felt as humiliated as he did that dinner when Allicent announced this to him. He always knew that his mother and father both didn’t think he was fit to rule, and his brother was certainly counting down the days until the weight of crown becomes too much and he has to drop it.

But this… hearing his mother openly planning on the best way to control him? And of all the relationships for her to exploit, she wants to use his future wife? As much as Aegon tries to act all cool and nonchalant and like he doesn’t care about anything, the truth is that he has a soft soul and is a romantic at heart. He always dreamed of meeting his wife and slowly building up a good, strong relationship.

His dreams of that are crushed before he even meets you.

Because of all of this, Aegon doesn’t even get to see you before the wedding, nevermind speak to you. He asks to see you, multiple times, but Allicent won’t budge. She says him seeing you won’t make a difference, he’s marrying you either way.

He’s so dejected on his wedding day. When you look into his eyes for the first time, you just see such a deep sadness that it makes your chest ache. You try to be kind to him that night, try to compliment him and listen to him. It does very little and he remains cold the whole evening.

When it’s time to consummate the marriage, Aegon shows you to your new quarters with him and slowly begins to undress like he’s a robot. You stop him immediately. You tell him that it’s just the two of you here now, no one else. He doesn’t have to pretend or follow his mother’s orders, she’s not here.

He’s confused then.

“You don’t want to have sex?” Asks, confused, “Didn’t my mother tell you to get pregnant immediately?”

You chuckle and say that she did, but you don’t care what she said, she’s not in this marriage.

Allicent made one crucial era when she chose you, she assumed your courage and knowledge and independence would mean you agreed with her. But no, no it didn’t. It meant you thought for yourself, and it meant you realised just how sad and hurt the soon to be king is.

You stick your head out the door and tell the guards find you a stack of cards. The guards are, of course, very confused but you are now officially the future queen so they can’t exactly say no.

Once you have the cards, you put them down on the bed and sit on the other side. Aegon smiles when he sees that. A real smile, not the fake one he kept during the wedding.

You realise pretty quickly that the absolute best way to help Aegon at first is actually to be more of his friend than his wife? You listen to him and offer him occasional advice but you also play card games and trade family stories and discuss your dreams. Aegon has never had a friend before. At least, he’s never had a friend not somehow influenced by his status as future heir.

When he’s alone with you, he doesn’t feel the future disappointment everyone else seems to see. He just feels like himself.

It takes him a very long time to admit that he’s not fit for all the requirements of being ruler. He’s not ready for it and he doesn’t even want to be ready for it.

You listen to him, of course, and then you remind him that even though the two of you have mainly just played cards, you are still his wife. You swore an oath to love and protect him and you have no intention of breaking it.

That gets a smile out of him, and ends in him kissing you, giggling against your mouth every now and then because he’s finally accepted that he’s not alone in this expectation anymore.

Pretty soon the two of you work out what your dynamic is, and Aegon is genuinely so thankful to have you in his life. Because while yes, you most certainly help him and offer him advice and even tell him when he’s outright wrong, you never make him feel stupid. That’s the difference. He can ask you things and voice his frustrations because he knows you won’t belittle him for it. He’s happy to follow your advice because you don’t make him feel bad for needing advice.

You always treat him with love and care, always open your arms when he needs.

Once he’s crowned, he removes Allicent from the small council and adds you.

[tanoraqui]

obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick’s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[ashtheketchum]

●Night swimm●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Season 1

Summary: Daryl has a crush on you since he saw you. Merle kept teasing him that Daryl should finally talk to you, but the archer never had the courage. One day you were taking a bath at night and Daryl saw you.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, unprotected sex, shy Daryl, Merle being a tease/asshole, in the water, one slap on the ass, Daryl being a lil perv, tits sucking

Words: 3.5k

Masterlist!

_____________________________

PoV Daryl:

Our small group had come together at some point and we all had tasks. There was me and my brother, Merle, we looked after the food for everyone, Shane the 'leader' who ran everything. Lori, Carol, Jacqui, Andrea and Amy took care of our laundry and the children were still learning things from school. And then there was (Y/N). She somehow took care of everything at the same time, she defended, caught us fish, taught the children new things and also helped with the laundry. She really was strong.

Unfortunately, sometimes I caught myself staring at her sometimes, and not in a harmless way. She always wore shorts and a top, with a lumberjack shirt. The shorts fit her ass perfectly and her top hugged her breasts perfectly too. Her loving yet stern smile turned me on again and again, so that I had to satisfy myself that same night. Inside, I felt incredibly embarrassed for staring at a woman so much that even my brother noticed and annoyed me about it.

Merle had tried to flirt with (Y/N) many times, but she always ignored him or turned him down. However, after he noticed the looks I kept giving him when he flirted with her, he actually stopped, but not because he was begrudging me and being a good brother. No, he did it to tease me. “Hey, her ass is hot, but don’t stare so obviously, little brother.” “Maybe we can share the little one? You get her every Monday and I get her the rest of the week, okay?” “Hey, slap her ass! Let’s see how she reacts.” He told me again and again, no matter when and no matter where. While hunting, while eating, and he even stands outside when I sat in my tent and masturbated. But one day he really went too far.

It was another one of those days where I stared at (Y/N) and today I would also talk to her about the food. I wanted to ask her if she wanted anything specific, whatever it was I would get it for her. So I slowly walked towards her, her back was turned to me and she was hanging up the laundry with Lori. (Y/N) had bent over slightly to pick up a basket, so I had a perfect view of her ass for a moment, but I had to pull myself together. I was standing just two meters away from her when I suddenly saw Merle. He walked between us as quietly as he could and slapped (Y/N) hard on the ass. Before she could turn around, however, he had disappeared again and (Y/N) was now staring at me.

Unknowingly, I stared after Merle for a moment before looking at her. Her look made me pause, all the color in my face disappeared and I only now checked what had just happened. Merle had slapped her ass and now it looked, to her, like I had slapped her ass. “Daryl?” She just said confused. I looked at her uncertainly, like a child who wanted to ask an adult something but didn't dare. She still looked at me confused, although I didn't see a trace of anger in her eyes. “You need something…?” When she asked me this, I shrugged together and realized why I wanted to go to her in the first place. And now my entire face turned bright red and I could now feel Lori's gaze on me. She looked at me confused, just as did (Y/N). “N-nah… s-sorry…” And with those words I walked away from her. In my head, I planned to stay in the forest for several days until this situation might calm down.

As I went to my tent to get my crossbow, I saw Merle staring at his hand. It was the hand he had used to spank (Y/N)'s ass. Merle had a satisfied grin on his lips before he looked at me. "And? Does she have a wish for the food?” His innocent question got on my last nerve, but I decided to just ignore him and disappear into the forest. Merle just laughed loudly before following me.

PoV (Y/N):

I looked after Daryl confused, I could still feel the stinging on my butt cheek. My eyebrows furrowed a little, but I slowly turned back around to pick up the basket to get the next load of laundry. “Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” I heard Lori ask. I jumped and looked at her with wide eyes, completely forgetting she was still here. So I gave her a quick little smile before nodding and then walking away.

However, nothing seemed to fit together in my head. Of course, I had noticed that Daryl stared at me sometimes and that he had trouble being alone with me, but I never expected him to slap my ass. A strange tingling sensation formed in my chest, but I ignored it and instead picked up the next load of laundry.

<Time Skip>

The sun was slowly setting and the temperature dropped a little, but still not enough. It was incredibly warm and sleeping naked or just in underwear these days was too dangerous. With the apocalypse, however, things changed and many things could no longer be done. And showering or bathing was one of those things. It wasn't that I really needed to wash, but I was longing for some grooming after a month of going without.

So I grabbed a few clean clothes, two towels and thick socks before I went to this huge pond. The water was pleasantly cool, clean and no walkers would come because I had searched this area twice today. The water shone in the moonlight and I was already smiling slightly.

I put my clean clothes on a stone before I started to take off my dirty clothes. It was risky because someone could see me at any time, but I hurried so that my body was quickly in the water. I also checked again to see if anyone in my small group was nearby. Since no one was there, the cool water greeted me very quickly and I sighed quietly. I briefly submerged myself completely so that my hair would get wet too. I gently massaged my scalp and body to rub away all the dirt.

PoV Daryl:

The world really wasn't on my side today. On a day when I wanted to stay in the forest for a long time, Merle and I found a deer and three rabbits. Merle had already brought the animals to camp and then gone to sleep, but I didn't want to lie down yet. I wandered around in the forest for a while, kicking some stones around and looking around. But suddenly I heard a loud splash, as if someone had gone into the water. I immediately raised my crossbow and I slowly moved towards the pond, which was right next to our camp.

I slowly walked through the trees until I suddenly tripped over something. I looked down in confusion before kneeling down and picking up the strange material. But as soon as I realized what material it was, I turned bright red and held my breath. It was a bra and not just any bra. No, it was (Y/N)´s bra, I sometimes saw the straps on her shoulders, through her top or when she bent over slightly. So I immediately looked around to see her, maybe something had happened to her, maybe she was kidnapped or someone forced her to take off her clothes. But when I looked into the pond, I turned even redder. She stood there, naked and wet. She was in the water up to her cleavage, but I could see the slight hint of her breasts. I saw her side perfectly, her fingers running through her wet hair.

Even if it was wrong, I hid a little more behind the tree, but only so that I still had a perfect view of her. It became incredibly tight in my pants and I had the uncomfortable need to touch myself again. She looked around briefly, which is why I hid completely behind the tree. I even held my breath. After a few seconds I looked back at her and my eyes widened more. (Y/N) had stood up and was now letting her hands slide over her perfect breasts. Her nipples had become a little hard from the cold water. My cock was throbbing incredibly hard, it was already painful.

Just as I was about to reach for the bulge in my pants, I stepped on a branch and it cracked far too loudly. I immediately squeezed my eyes shut, hoping (Y/N) hadn't heard. But I was wrong. "Hello?"

PoV (Y/N):

I heard a branch snap, which made me immediately go under the water again. I stayed quiet for a moment to hear any grumbling or growling noises, but I heard nothing. So it was a human. Fuck and right now I didn't have my knife in the water with me. "Hello?" I called out in the direction from which I heard the noise. There was a moment of silence before someone stepped out from behind the tree. It was Daryl and he raised his arms innocently, slowly lowering his crossbow to the ground. My cheeks immediately turn bright red, but my shoulders relaxed. I sighed quietly before standing up again, more unconsciously than consciously. “Daryl-?” Before I could say or ask anything else, the archer interrupted me. “I-I can explain tha’…” He murmured quietly, his face bright red.

It didn't fit together again. First he slapped my ass and then he watched me how I take a bath? Or were these all just coincidences? So I looked at him waiting, but I was too far away from him. We would have to talk too loudly and probably wake everyone up. So I crossed my arms over my chest so he could barely see them and I stepped more out of the water. I came out until the water only covered my waist and everything below. I could tell Daryl wanted to sink into the ground. "Yeah?… I'm waiting…" Although I didn't want to push him, I did want to get this all over with as quickly as possible. "I-I… I was… huntin' and then I saw ya… I'm sorry…" He didn't lie. Daryl wasn't the type of guy who liked lying, nor was he good at it. So I smiled slightly before relaxing a little more.

Daryl was attractive, I really had to say that. His arms, his blue, intense eyes and his physique in general always attracted me. Sometimes I felt really honored that he was staring after me. So I took a risk. “You wanna join?” My question immediately made him look up, but he immediately closed his eyes when he saw my naked body. I really had to hold back a chuckle, he was really cute. I slowly walked closer to him until I was completely in front of him. I gently grabbed his hand and I gently pulled him towards the water. “Come on… We can talk a little bit…” I then suggested. Daryl just grumbled under his breath before turning away and unbuckling his belt. I bit my bottom lip briefly before turning around and slowly walking into the water. I went low again until my breasts were now hidden again by the water before turning around and looking at Daryl.

He was now up to his stomach in the water, but he kept his top on. I looked at him briefly, confused but also amused, but I decided not to ask him. As he stood in front of me, his eyes wandered everywhere. To my eyes, to my shoulders, to my collarbone, to my lips, to my cleavage and then back to my eyes.

“Soo… why exactly did you slapped my ass?” I then asked teasingly. The tips of his ears now turned bright red and he cleared his throat quietly. His gaze shifted to the side and he took a few deep breaths. "Tha'… wasn't me tho… 'was ma brother…" He then admitted quietly. I tilted my head slightly to the side in amusement and I smiled softly at him. It was kind of clear to me that Daryl hadn't slap me on the ass, but I wanted to hear it from his mouth again. “And…why were you spying on me?” He shrugged again and looked down at the water.

I came a little closer to him so that my breasts were now pressed against his chest and he then looked deep into my eyes. His blue eyes lit up briefly and I could have sworn I felt his cock against my thigh. But I didn't mention it. Not yet. "I-I was… huntin'… just as I said…" Giggling, I placed my hand gently on his cheek and stood slightly on my tiptoes so that I was closer to him. With my other hand I grabbed his wrist and I put his hand on my hip. His other hand followed automatically and now he held my hips. “It’s okay… but next time just ask if you could join me, alright?” My suggestion made him gulp.

I looked briefly at his lips before looking back into his eyes. My hands went to his shoulders and I pulled myself up slightly until I could wrap my legs around his waist. Now his shaft was pressing against my pussy and I moaned softly before I came closer and closer to him. Daryl took a short, sharp breath before looking uncertainly into my eyes. “W-wha’ are ya doin’…?” He asked me uncertainly. He looked excited, almost afraid, but your grip on my waist pulled me a little closer to him. My eyes sparkled briefly with excitement. “I just want to spend some time with you… you don’t have to…” I whispered again quietly to confirm that he really wanted all of this. When the archer shook his head slightly and then nervously licked his bottom lip, I grinned wider and then pressed my lips gently against his.

The younger Dixon growled briefly before returning my kiss sloppily. I wrapped my arms around his neck and continued to grind my pussy against his shaft. A strangled groan escaped him and his grip around my hips tightened. “You’re so hard…” I giggled softly against his lips before placing my hand on his cheek. "'m sorry… 'm jus'…" Before he could say anything else, I kissed him gently again. “Don’t apologize… I like it…” I then purred softly against his lips. Swallowing hard, he nodded briefly before I reached down between us and gently grabbed his shaft. Daryl immediately gasped quietly and he also looked down. I bit my lower lip lightly, while I rubbed the head of his penis between my folds until it hit my entrance.

“You want that…?” I asked, just to be sure. The archer nodded again and he pushed me down slightly until his tip was inside me. I immediately inhaled sharply and pressed my face into his shoulder. I already knew that I had to stop myself from screaming. I lowered myself deeper and deeper onto him until he filled me completely. His pubic hair tickled my clit slightly, but as I pressed myself harder against him, I felt his abdomen against my sensitive skin. Without realizing it, I had bitten his top and narrowed my eyes. Even though I tensed incredibly hard, a loud whimper escaped me and I was breathing heavily.

“Ya okay…?” I heard Daryl ask quietly. I felt his rapid heartbeat against my bare chest and his breathing was incredibly fast. I wondered if this was Daryl's first time, but I immediately shook the question out of my head. “Y-yeah… It’s just… I haven’t fucked with anyone in a long time…” I then admitted quietly, which only made Daryl grumble. His one hand went to my ass and he massaged it gently. The touch immediately made me tremble and I felt him lift me up a little, only to immediately press me back against his pelvis. “Fuck, woman… ya’r so tight…~” He growled softly against my skin. Whimpering, I clutched at his top and quickly realized that it was bothering me. So I tugged on it gently, but right after I did, he bit my neck hard. Squeaking loudly, I tensed up. He lifted my pelvis faster and faster. "No…~" Was all he growled.

I understood what he meant, but I whimpered loudly. “Daryl, please…! Faster~…” My lips found his neck and I covered his skin with gentle but passionate kisses. He listened to my request and moved my pelvis against his faster and faster, the water around us sloshing around wildly. With my eyes closed, I enjoyed the feeling while placing thick hickeys on his neck. “God, ya feel so good~…” Daryl's deep voice made me tremble for a moment before I moaned softly into his ear. I kept whimpering or moaning his name, making him twitch. His cock twitched and throbbed more and more and the tip of it constantly brushed against my special spot. A tingling sensation spread through my stomach and I breathed faster and faster.

I leaned away from him so I could look Daryl in the eyes. His blue eyes looked deep into mine, his pupils were much wider so that you could barely see his blue irises. He bit his bottom lip hard and looked closely at my features. I had my eyebrows furrowed slightly and my mouth open in an 'O' shape, my eyes staring deep into his. “Fuck, why haven’t you ever spoken to me?” "'Was afraid… god, ya're just so pretty…" He lowered his head and moved me much faster now, my clit rubbing over his shaft again and again.

His sweet words sent a chill through me and I had great difficulty suppressing my voice. My inner walls hugged his shaft much tighter and they sucked him greedily, which only made the archer moan loudly. His gaze went to my bare breasts, which were bouncing up and down due to the movements. Water slowly ran down my breasts and my nipples became hard. Suddenly he pushed my upper body closer to him and he sucked greedily on my nipple. I immediately gasped loudly and grabbed his short, dark blonde hair tightly. “God, Daryl~…! Yes, just like that~!” My words made him growl and he twitched again inside me.

He flicked his tongue over my nipple and moved his pelvis slightly against mine. “Ya’re driving me crazy, woman~…” I had to grin, but another loud gasp escaped me as I felt myself getting closer and closer to my orgasm. “I’m cumming~…!” I whimpered loudly. Daryl growled briefly before letting go of one breast and moving to the next. As his lips wrapped around my nipple, he sucked hard again and I arched my back. "Fuck, Daryl~!" With his name on my lips, I came around him and I gripped his top tightly.

Daryl immediately growled loudly and pulled out of me. In the same second he shot his sperm into the water and he moaned my name. I was still in his arms, my pussy still throbbing but calming down a bit before Daryl slowly carried me out of the water. Once we got out of the water, he put me on the ground to put his pants on himself. I could briefly see his cute ass and a grin crept onto my lips. “Cute butt…” “Shuddup…” He must have been embarrassed. Once the archer was properly dressed again, he helped me get dressed and then picked me up bridal style. I just wrapped my arms loosely around his neck. “Do you wanna sleep in my tent?” I then asked him quietly as his footsteps led us to my tent. Daryl seemed to think for a moment before looking at me. "If ya want…" “I wouldn’t ask you if I never wanted that…”

Daryl snorted briefly and a slight grin briefly appeared on his lips. He then let me down to the ground in front of my tent and opened the tent. I quickly climbed in and then looked back at Daryl. “'m gonna get some clothes… gonna be back again…” And with those words he disappeared briefly. Smiling, I closed the tent slightly before lying down in my tent bed. I looked patiently at the tent door until Daryl opened it again and walked in to me. He had new clothes on. “Ya tired?” "Yeah… a little… you fucked me good." I teased him.

The archer looked away briefly, a visible blush forming on his cheeks. "Tha´ was nothin´, hun..." Giggling, I then moved to the side a little to give him some space. He very hesitantly climbed into the tent bed and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Well… was tha’ now jus’ a one-night stand or…?” Before he could continue, I pressed my lips to his. "No… I love you, Daryl…" He snorted briefly in amusement before kissing my lips gently. Even though he didn't respond to my words, I saw in his eyes that he loved me too. And that's how we fell asleep. With the knowledge that we loved each other and cuddled together too.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Bemused

summary -> daryl becomes bemused by y/n and her affections towards him. also the story of how daryl ‘found’ his vest (0.6k)

warnings -> fluff, prison era (season 3) set, unestablished relationship but there be feelings, blood, 3rd person

daryl dixon // norman reedus works main masterlist

She was an outsider, even though she had travelled all this way with them from Atlanta, all the group of survivors knew was her name, and that she could kill walkers.

Nowhere they had rested felt like home, until they cleared out the prison, and y/n began to open herself up more, they all did. This could be their haven from the horrors that lay outside the fences, all they had to do was maintain their respite when it came to collecting supplies, and enforce the barriers when it was needed.

However what Daryl had found peculiar was that she lingered around him like an angel, he stared shocked at her as she walked towards him, a spattering of blood painting her face.

They were all infected in this new world, it wasn’t news that they had just learnt, but the redneck felt his eyes grow wide as he looked at her, and she wore a smile, as though she hadn��t previously been fighting off the undead as she entered the manually opened gates.

“How was the run?” Daryl asked her as she tilted her head at him, shaking her head as she dropped her satchel to the ground, and she burrowed through its contents as though her life depended on it.

“I’d say pretty good,” she replied, feeling giddy and nervous as she finally retracted the fabric, holding the article in her hands. “I got you something, I saw it and I thought of you.”

Nobody had ever thought of him, Daryl grew bemused as she handed him the gift, examining it in his hands as the shock did anything but wear off. Merle had only brought him a present once, and that was when he was a kid, he had nothing of value apart from the crossbow that he carried everywhere.

“Ya didn’ have to.” He quietly spoke, turning the vest around, viewing the pair of wings that were created upon the back. It was almost ornamental, it felt wrong to wear something so meaningful in the bloodshed of the apocalypse, but y/n appeared to not want to take no for an answer.

“Try it on! I didn’t scavenge it for you to just gawk at it!” She encouraged him, watching as the brooding man grunted, and shrugged his crossbow off, y/n happily taking it from him as he pulled the fabric over his shoulders. “It fits perfectly!”

In the old world, a woman being so excited over the littlest of things would have annoyed him, most of the female population did, especially those that Merle ran after, but he found comfort in it. She wanted him to be happy! It was a first for him to experience, and he had many of those left.

The vest hugged his shoulders in just the right way, and a warmth ran across his stuttering chest as he looked at y/n with his deep cerulean eyes, wondering why she had thought of him and risked her life to get him something so simple yet unique.

“Yeah, ‘t does.” He found himself agreeing with her, a small smile scoping on his lips as he struggled to push her away. “Thanks.” He curtly nodded, unsure of how to handle such a kind situation, however y/n had other plans.

She, still swinging his empty crossbow in her right hand to the side, engulfed him in a hug, that had his heart pausing for a couple of moments. But he found himself wrapping her in his arms, never wanting to let her go.

He’d be okay if he could stay in the scene forever, holding her in his embrace, however it would never last. Nothing good ever did… but maybe, just maybe things would have a better outcome than he’d predicted in the past.

[valuunit]

after midnight

summary: some steamy sex after dancing at the club with harry in his frat era.

title because im obsessed with chapelle roan, as you should

Content: She/her pronouns. smut (mdi), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, using a tie as a way to muffle sound ;), oral (m receiver), finguer fucking, clothed sex?, oh, a photo taken during sex, this oc is really stupid and horny, don’t show you’re face in an explicit pic of yourself wit someone new. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there’s any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

y/n

why did i agree to this? jesus, this is the shitiest-

“y/n, my miracle is here!” the strong mature voice of Patricia sends shivers down my spine.

“hi” i quietly say, accepting her hug.

“here, i want you to met someone.”

fuck. social interaction.

i’m so so tired for this, i just want to pet my beautiful dog and sleep cuddling with him.

“Michael! here she is, y/n, y/n that’s Michael Young, owner of the record label i told you.” she whispers the last bit. my attitude automatically changes, another rich man who wants more money.

a very well preserved old man turns around, he’s like the definition of daddy if i were attracted to him, he gives me a gentle handshake. “nice to meet you miss, i’ve heard great things about you.”

“thanks, it’s very nice to meet you too.” after that he kisses Patricia’s cheek and excuses himself, promising to get back a little later.

“well, that didn’t go as planned.”

i chuckled. “maybe in a bit will go better, he said he was coming back”

“that’s the equivalent of a guys promising you he’s calling you back after fucking.”

“oh, then forget about it, let’s drink!” i smile eyeing the open bar.

“you do you, honey, i’ll be here if you need me.”

“okay mother, thanks.” i love that woman even if she’s in my monthly payroll.

“love ya.”

i pass some people, looking for the edge of the bar, and fortunately it was empty. “hi, can i take an old fashioned, please?” the bar tender nodded. life like this is kinda good.

harry

“that girl, she’s fit.” louis said.

oh i know lou, i’ve been watching her since she stepped in the club.

“who?” niall said genuinely curious to look at a cute girl.

“there, in the leather jacket at the edge of the table.” louis kept trying to get a better look at her.

“you should go talk to her.” niall says after also looking.

“i think that harry’s job here, he’s been drooling here for her.”

“what?, no, i didn’t even saw her before you mentioned her.” you fucking liar. you even know her name and music.

“okay, then i’ll take the word from nialler here and go count that lady.” you’re a good player louis, but not the best.

he’s testing me to push myself to go there.

“no, not at all.” i simply reply.

“ehh! louis, louis, louis!” niall cheers.

and there he goes, confident steps but playing with his hands.

y/n

i feel a pair of eyes on my back, i try not to think to much about it, i’m here to enjoy myself not to pay attention for others.

“hi” a particular voice says.

i don’t reply, maybe it’s not for me, i don’t want to embarrass me.

“hey, you like it old fashioned?, you’re like a dad?” okay, maybe that is for me.

“yeah, i probably have someone pregnant rounding around the world. i’m at that stage of my life.” i simply replied.

they laughed “i might like you. i’m louis, nice to meet ya”

“hi, y/n” this is louis tomlinson, one of the most famous boys at the moment. if this was happening a couple of years ago i would probably pass out, but i’ve slowly realized that doesn’t matter you ‘status’, you should be treated as kindly and respectful as anyone.

“aren’t you going to invite me a drink?” he says offended, playin, obviously.

“yeah, because i’m the one who approached” i said smiling. “what would you like? it’s on me.”

“oh, becoming my sugar mommy, i get it. i’ll get a shot, tequila.”

“yeah, the free aspect does play a roll here.” he laughs again and looks to where he came from. “four shots of tequila please, extra lime.”

“two rounds, i for sure like you now.” he immediately takes one of the caballito, waiting for me.

“i was just hopping you’d get pleased with that and leave.” i also take one, he hums and aproches for slice of lime.

“damn, that’s tough, if you want me to leave you’re not going to achieve it giving me drinks.” he talks quickly, then proceeds to cheer and gut down the little but dangerous liquid. i follow.

“oof, party animal, aren’t ya?” a deep and also british voice comes in.

“harry!, your finally came, i thought i was gonna stay here all night mate.” he looks at me “not that i would mind”

i completely turn around to look at a curly haired guy, he’s also really handsome, and how not? he’s harry styles.

“ah, yeah, thanks man, see you?” his confused comment makes me laugh.

“yeah, whatever you say. it was really nice to meet you, y/n, hope we can finish this round one day.” he pats the back of his friend and gets out. damn, what the fuck.

“am, i’m really sorry ‘bout that, i’m harry though, you’re y/n?”

“yeah, no it’s fine, if you want you can finish the shots with me?” i say also confused, he looks so nervous and i don’t know why, i'm not that scary am i?

“sure, thanks.” and it becomes silent. well, the conversation with louis was better, that’s for sure.

we swallow the drinks and when i reach out for the fruit i find his hands in the same one i was about to grab, i quickly change my election, and he does as well, i laugh at the awkwardness. he smiles at that.

“i heard your album. it’s amazing.”

“what? you’ve heard my album.” a say fascinated while sucking the last bit of sour liquid.

“what? are you surprised i listen to good music?” he smiled and smooths his chin.

“i wouldn’t say that, i just thought it didn’t reached that many people for you to listen to it.”

“what do you mean? it’s hit after hit, it’s really popular.”

“well, i don’t often look at the logistics of it. but thanks, i wasn’t really sure about it, nor my record label i almost got dropped.”

“well, they’re losers, it’s great.” he smiles and i also do, it’s really nice to heard that from someone who doesn’t know me, it feels genuine.

“i feel like i have to return the compliment but i haven’t heard 1D in like one year, ahm, i really love c’mon c’mon.” he and i laugh.

“yeah, i don’t blame you.” he suddenly looks uncomfortable.

“i’m really sorry.” i try to read his eyes, he was looking at a light above, but now his eyes are back on mine, he doesn’t look as happy as some people seem when they talk about something the love, like music. “you’re not satisfied, are you?”

“you could say that in a lot of aspects.” he smirks.

“okay, i don’t wanna hear it.” i say laughing nervously.

“let’s not talk about this depressing stuff. wanna dance?”

“sure, i’d love to.”

he takes my hand to make sure i don’t get lost in the crowd, he pauses for a second to give louis a warning look when he makes quiet wolf whistles.

“he’s an idiot, sorry.”

“i figured, no problem.”

promiscuous is blasting across the club, this song is sexy and i’m with a sexy guy, i must be a little sexy.

i’m against his chest, the room between our bodies is none, and the space we have to dance is limited, but we can make it work.

i see him starting to sway his shoulders first, trying to get used to the beat. i put my arms on his obliques, also starting to sway my hips, looking at his chest tattoos.

his hands go under my leather jacket and stay in between my hips and my waist, following me. i hear him pant, his mouth is slightly parted and his forehead falls to mine.

“can i take this?” he grabs the tie that hangs loosely in my neck, trying to distract himself for the erection i feel near my left hip.

“sure” we separate out heads and he puts it around his neck, the red looks good on him.

harry

she’s the hottest, most gorgeous person i’ve met.

her lips are as bright as the tie i just grabbed from her beautiful neck, i really want to kiss her. but maybe she’s not into me in that way.

“fuck, how are you so hard, a minute has hardly passed” her voice is deeper than before. i feel slightly embarrassed, but also no.

“that’s the reaction my body has with you.” i say honestly. some say that fake it till you make it, and that what i’m gonna do, fake confidence, maybe it’ll let me somewhere good.

she hums and looks at me in the eyes, to the lips and back at my eyes, with a bright smile and a dark look.

she grabs the tie, pulling me to her, we’re centimeters apart. when i’m about to kiss her she speaks.

“may i kiss you?” she whispers. this might be the hottest thing she’s done so far, or maybe the tie thing it’s.

“of fucking course.”

y/n

this kiss is as alex turner would say, were teeth collide.

is desperate, full of the sexual tension we’ve managed to build, and i couldn’t want it any other way.

we dance, grind, kiss and even moan, at least me, for what seems like the entire night, but when we take our make out session to the back of the building it seems like it barely 12 in the morning.

“jesus, love, i would love to take you home.” he says between wet neck kisses, all i reply is a fervent nod.

after that i feel his warm and big hand on my cheek, making me look at him, then is when i reply with actual words. “we can go back to my place, it not far and it’s alone.” i smile.

“you sure?”

“yeah, if you want.” he smiles and pecks my lips, i don’t know why his hand here makes me wanna melt against it.

“of course, love. it’s better than a shared hotel room.”

“yeah, probably.”

we decide to walk, it’s like i said not far away. the walk was definitely less heated, but it was something.

he asked if he could borrow my purse or my jacket to hide his boner, i laughed so much at that. but the outfit ended up amazingly on him, with the red tie and the also red small bag in his hands contrasting with his all black base.

as soon as i get home blake jumps, almost to the height of my head.

“i’m sorry, honey, i had somewhere to be.”

i think this might kill the mood, maybe not.

“who is this little bud?” harry asked when blake started sniffing his legs. i hang my jacket on a chair and take my purse from harry’s hand, leaving it in the same spot.

“blake, i hope he doesn’t bother you.”

“what, how could he.” he kneeled petting his puffy black hair. “right bud?, you’re adorable” blake turned into his back, to get some love in his belly.

okay, this is really cute, i feel bad for getting wet at the sight of him like this, being sweet to my dog.

“want a drink?, water, vodka, tequila?”

“no, i’m fine. i would prefer to get back were we left it.” blake has lost his interest on him and went to his bed.

“okay, you can go to my room, i’ll be there in a minute.” he looks around the house looking for the destination, “upstairs.” he nods and heads up. “blake. i have some… stuff to do, so please don’t cockblock me, please love, you’ll get a lot of treats tomorrow.” his ears move when he hears ‘treats’.

i grab a cushion from the couch and put it at the beginning of the stairs, hoping he can’t jump over it. “love ya, i’m really sorry if you hear something!” i whisper-scream.

getting near the door i smooth my skirt out and take may hair out of my face.

when i enter harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, he’s cheeks look very red now that i see them in a different light. i smile at him and he smiles at me.

“you look great in red. in your cheeks and my tie” i whisper as i sit in his lap.

“thanks, i might borrow it for another day.”

“you’re still, you know, hard?” i say almost laughing at how cringe that sounded to me.

“you’re wet?” he says. i nod, desperate to kiss him. “perfect.”

his hands crawls up my knee, ass and thigh, reaching my underwear, which was very much soaked.

“i feel flattered, love, i haven’t touched you and look at this” he makes me stand in my knees and slides my panties down my legs, finally showing the mess i made. “we’re gonna keep the skirt if that’s fine with you” i nod and he kisses me.

as soon as the kisses starts it becomes a kiss full of passion. he undoes my white shirt and i do the same with his black shirt.

he’s now laying down, his legs hanging from the bed and im right in top of him, my core against his belt, which feels weird in a good way.

i moan when he sits down, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it backwards. “your really pretty when you’re all flustered.”

he slides the shirt down my shoulders and for my bralette he slides it upwards, passing through my head.

“i feel like you have an advantage here.” i look down his opened shirt and pants, hell, he even has his shoes on.

“take whatever you want.” he smiles and kisses the in middle of my breasts.

i hug his neck with both of my arms, letting him please me with his kisses and bites in my chest.

he pays equal attention to both, i think he gave the same amount of bites to each, i don’t know, i was enjoying myself to much to care.

when i fell his mouth starting to separate from me i begin to go down his body, taking the tie and the shirt off, kissing his shoulder, chest, stomach and his boner from above the denim material.

he groans desperately but doesn’t move, just seats there with his hands on each side of his body. “you’re really a tease, baby.” he whispers.

“i think it will be worth it.” i say, quickly undoing his jeans and sliding off his boxer, leaving his cock free.

i think of what to do for a second, i could do a handjob or a blowjob, i finally decide in a hybrid.

i first take his length in my right hand, slowly feeling his body react, his legs move a bit and his body leans back. i then start to move down, making my eyes align with his crotch, and with my hand still in the base i start by wrapping my mouth at the tip. his makes a beautiful sharp gasp.

“god’s fucking sake.” he decides to look down at me, looking deep into my eyes.

harry

her eyes are gonna be the death of me. she can look evil but also innocent. and that makes me want to take her right now and leave her dumb fucked.

my dick disappears in her mouth, over and over again, i don’t know how she manages to keep a consistent move in her hands and in her mouth, including her tongue and her head. the guitar must help her multitasking abilities.

“love, t-that s-sss amazing. ah, but i w-won’t last a lot longerr and i will like to do sooo… much m-more with y-ya…”

she gets my dick out of her mouth, god that’s so dirty, an i love it. but yeah, she does so, chuckling a bit with a sense of pride, some drool goes down her chin, she’s perfect.

“okay, next time i guess.” fuck yeah, hopefully.

“now it’s my turn” she come back up, sitting her naked clit into my semi, this little minx jumped into my dick, and she knows it, she smiles.

“sorry.”

“you’re not.” i smile.

“no, i’m not.” she smiles.

“but you will.” i grab her hips from under the washed denim mini skirt and switched our position, leaving her laying down on her chest and me above her, looking at the greatest fucking view; her face was looking at me over her shoulder, he naked back and her skirt rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination, her ass was in perfect alignment with my eyes.

i decided to be a little wild and spank her, she moaned, but i quickly turned to look at her “was that okay?”

“yeah… fucking perfect.” she moaned more.

“who would’ve thought…” i say, giving her another one, this one harder, making her cheeks giggle.

i pull her skirt even further, and also pulled from her hips to make her stick her ass up, giving me better access to her clit. i begin caressing her outer lips, soft touches to get her desperate and my fingers getting lubricated.

i inserted one of them, the ring finger to be specific. she moans softly, pushing her hips back. “more…”

“patience, love, want to cherish the moment.” but i do what she says, i enter another and begin to diversify my movements. when i get to a specific and wet point i feel her body shake.

“t-t… there.” she sighs “right therrre.” she purrs.

she looks so angelic like this: baby hairs stick to her sweaty forehead, eyes closed, mouth open full or profane sounds, i also see her stimulating her breasts, just like she could read my mind.

when i put my third finger in i feel her lips stretch, so i turn my hand, she screams at my move. “shh… we don’t want to scare blake, or anyone for that matter. would hate for someone to interrupt, right?”

“mhm” she opens her eyes, they are watering now, i don’t know whether to worry or to be turned on.

“everything okay there, baby?” i ask pulling her hair to the side to look at her fully.

“gr-great!” she sights when i touch her newly founded button.

i feel some more palpitating, some more stretching and i see her jaw being clenched. she’s close.

“you’re getting there, aren’t you?”

“yess! i’m goo…” sight “gonna cum.” her hips push against my hand, i took my index finger out because it felt like i couldn’t move my hand at all.

“patience baby, let it all out” i groan at her cunt stretching around my hand.

she screams my name, might be my new favorite sound of all time. it’s a mix of a hoarse and sweet voice.

she stops moving her hips i see a bit of liquid being thrown against my still moving hand, she squirted. i try really hard not to cum also.

she pants and groans. one hand reaches to mine, telling me to stop.

“good job, love” i slowly take my hand up and taste her discard. i then lean to kiss her cheek.

“want you inside of me” she whispers against the mattress.

“of course baby, just waiting for you to catch your breath at least.” i chuckle. she pouts but stays still.

“i’m fine. i just want you to fuck me.” she looks at me undress completely. biting her lip as she check me out.

“ouch, wouldn’t thought you’ll just use me like that, love, thought this was real.” i say jokingly offended and also a bit nervous. maybe this is just a one night thing, and i wouldn’t like it to end like this.

“maybe it is, but i would really like you to fuck me good so i can consider you as a potential candidate.”

nice answer, miss y/n.

“fine, firstly, do you have any condoms?” she sakes her head no.

“i’ve got iud and clean. if you’re up and clean we can make it raw.” she says nonchalantly.

“fucking hell” i go to kiss her mouth, gripping her cheek harshly, “i’ll make you scream really loud, so i think we could put this to some more use”, i say taking the tie from the floor.

she smiles, curious. i hover over her body again, pass the tie through her head to stop at her mouth, tightening it.

“wow” she barely says.

“you can grip me at the arm of you want to stop, okay?” she nods. “show me” she takes my forearm and tightens her grip around it two times. “good girl.” i kiss her cheek again.

i look down, she still has that fucking skirt i hope every time she uses it she remembers who fucked her in that, i direct my dick into her clit. i soak my tip into her cum and wetness.

and finally i enter, our mouth open at the contact, i thrust slowly and fully, i stay there “goodness, this is g-ood.” i whisper in her ear, she moans quietly.

“look at me angel.” she deserves the nickname. i could take a picture of this obscene and artistic piece. “can i take a picture?, i promise ill protect it with my life…”

she hesitates a bit, but when she looks at me in the eyes she nods “yeah”.

i lean over to the bedside table, take my phone and quickly snap one time.

“move?” she says.

“as you wish.” i let my phone slide off my hand and focused solely on her.

i put one hand next to her face , the other went to her hip. giving me the base i need to get her good.

my hips roll against hers, looking at her face to her ass and back and forth.

i quickly gain a fast, hard and pleasing pace.

she hides her face into the pillow and grips the bedsheets tightly. her muffled moans and screams, my groans and screams and the sound of our bodies colliding is the only sound i listen to, and maybe in a 1 mile radius.

“doing good, l-love?” i ask her, my breathing is shaky, maybe not that sexy.

“mhm.” she turn her face to look at me “y-yesh…”

“look so fricking good like this…” i wished i could look at her full face.

she screams something that sounds like my name, and i know i need to she her climaxing around my dick.

“we’re g-gonna turn…” groan “you around, ‘right?”

“yeahyeahyeah” she said.

“h-hug, hug your leg darling.” i pat her left leg , she struggles a bit but makes it. with the force i have i turn her almost limb body.

she moans when her back hits the mattress and i thrust into her faster, while kissing her face, she entangles both her hands in my hair, pulling. fuck.

“hmm. c-c… cum!” she sights into my neck.

thanks love, i wouldn’t like to burst before you.

“perfect. relax, baby…” i groan, struggling to keep that fast of a pace, she’s squeezing my dick so hard and i might come way too fast.

“ha… haffy!” she screams again.

“i’m cu…ming love.”

i feel her groaning at the overstimulation, so i give a final thrust and let it all out.

y/n

i’ve been talking with harry for probably 30 minutes, after last night fucking midblowing fuck i barely was awake, but harry made me change into some pajamas and then he changed the bedsheets. it was the best aftercare ever.

“would you like to go for a coffee later in the evening?” he says looking at me with his beautiful green eyes.

“yeah, as long as blake can come.” i say jokingly.

“of course, love, little man is always welcome.”

“see? that’s what makes me want you every day and every night!” i hit his chest lightly, he chuckles. “you can’t say shit like that, i’ll get attached.”

“is that something wrong?” he smiles. “i also want you, i really like you, and it might be too soon, but i would like to get to know you and be something else.”

“i would love that too.”

[stevesjockstrap]

Helping Hands

Written for @stevieweek Stevieween prompt “This is what you’re doing on Halloween?”

Rated M • Stevie/Eddie • female, confident, bisexual Stevie, platonic stobin, modern era, no UD, meet ugly, happy ending • wc 700

She hadn't really planned to be at the laundromat on Halloween night, it had just sort of happened. It was empty, everyone apparently joining in the festivities. But it was a Thursday this year. She worked tomorrow morning.

She was bored, though. Pulling up Robin in her phone to FaceTime, she got an immediate soured look on her face. "This is what you're doing on Halloween?"

Stevie rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom, I'm trying to get fucked this weekend and I needed to wash my mattress cover." She laughed as Robin made fake gagging noises at her.

"You're at work, not doing anything fun either," she reminded her.

"I guess. But everyone knows I live vicariously through your adventures. I hate the laundromat," Robin groaned dramatically.

"God forbid one night of my life is unglamorous, Bobbi," she laughed. "I'm bored, though."

Robin huffed at her fake pout, pretending to be annoyed but putting her phone on the holder that was just for these scenarios, so she could still work on her computer while gossiping with her friend.

"You know what else is unacceptable? Why can I deep throat dicks but I gag when I brush my tongue?"

Robin snorted so violently she sent herself into a coughing fit, doubled over out of sight. Stevie grinned and, enjoying wreaking havoc, continued. "Speaking of dicks," — there came a louder groan amongst the coughing — "Guys are always so into girls squirting, but they've never been the ones to actually get me to. It's only been girls."

Before Robin could catch her breath from the increased laugh/coughing, a man appeared around the corner from her.

"Uh, excuse me miss, but a-are these yours?"

They both looked down at the small scrap of red fabric in his hand. Her lace thong.

He continued, his face nearly as red as the underwear, "They were stuck in the dryer."

Stevie blinked, just realizing she hadn't heard this person come in and didn’t know how long he'd been listening to her inappropriate conversation.

But she had never been shy about these things. She smiled cheekily and flicked her hair over her shoulder, reaching out and feeling the roughness of his hand as she took her panties from him. "Oh, thank you…?"

He flicked his eyes over her quickly and she held back a grin.

"E-Eddie, I'm Eddie. I work here, I mean — I-I help the owner out sometimes, w-with the machines. I'm good with my hands." He winced, probably not meaning that to sound the way it did, especially with what he had just overheard.

"Is that so, Eddie?" Stevie purred, sliding closer.

He ran a hand through his own hair nervously, and she took her time looking him up and down. He was in some sort of work jumpsuit, with letters on a patch she didn't recognize. His hair was long and wavy, a little tangled and messy in a way that actually worked for him. It made her want to yank it. He had full lips and big brown button eyes. He was also quite a bit taller than her, which she definitely liked.

"I know that look," Robin called out from her phone. She'd forgotten about her. "Go ahead and ask for her number, buddy. Trust me, she's a sure thing."

"Hey!"

They both ignored her though, Eddie’s cheeks reddening.

“Better yet, ask her if she needs help putting the waterproof mattress cover back on her bed!”

Stevie quickly hung up on her alleged best friend. Leaning in again, she instead decided to go for broke. “So, Eddie.” He looked like he was about to swallow his tongue. “Tell me, what is your stance on chocolate chip pancakes?”

Eddie surprised her with a chuckle and a wry grin. “I have to say I am pro pancakes of any species.”

The diner down the road was just as empty, and she agreed to bring Eddie to her apartment when it was clear the waitress was trying to close but didn’t want to be rude.

He did end up helping to wrestle her mattress cover back on, and proved it wasn’t just girls who could put it to the test. Good with his hands, indeed.

Dividers by @/enchanthings & @/fuctacles

[not-xpr-art]

Len and Tommy's life told through nine photos ~

A fanart based on the Inside no 9 episode 'Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room' because I loved it so much!

(09/2024)

See below for close ups and unnecessarily detailed explanations of each individual artwork lol

First wanna say that I spent wayy too long on these (like 25+ hours), especially trying to make them look like actual old photos lol... also trying to get their likeness right for the various ages was really bloody hard lol, but hopefully each photo has the essence of each character even if it might not look 100% right pfft...

Second thing is that the dates & locations are very much my own subjective thoughts on their life and not particularly rooted in the canon of the show lol

Also I did go really heavy with the colour symbolism lol...

Ravenhill School, 1965.

The year they met, both are around the age of 10 (give or take). Len is 3 from the left in the top row, Tommy 2 in from the left on the bottom row (also I tried to include references to the other 2 League Of Gentlemen guys... Though I think the only vaguely recognisable one is Jeremy pfft)

Also shout out to @lapis-lazuliie for the idea that they met at school!

(side note, this is the least detailed of all the paintings not just because I was too lazy to render all those children's faces pfft but ALSO because of the significance of them being less recognisable or prominent in each other's lives in this point...)

I was planning on making another childhood/early teen photo but couldn't really think of any good subject matter that could also fit thematically with the episode (also the fact both are coming from poor families who would have had limited access to cameras in this era means we can just pretend that there are just no photos that really exist of them at these ages pfft...)

Photo booth in Leeds, 1974.

Both in their late teens, they'd (well, mainly Tommy) gone to a photo booth in Leeds with the intention of getting some professional looking photos only for Len to immediately make Tommy laugh once they got in there lol

The middle photo is covered in lines as Tommy had planned on throwing it away, only to find he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end... Is it platonic? Romantic? Both? Who knows, you decide lol! I mainly wanted it to be a candid moment between two people that love each other lol

(final one is them play fighting because that's kinda just what 19 year olds are like pfft... also I think photo booths technically gave you 4 photos? so let's pretend there was another photo that they did throw away for whatever reason lol...)

Rehearsals, 1979.

Deep in the midst of practising their routine for some of their first performances!

I'll admit this photo was mainly me wanting to include something more episode specific lol and also to get in some much needed heavy handed symbolism (the crease in the photo separating them, the bottle in front of Len's face, etc)

Polaroids taken at Tommy's flat, 1985.

In-between shows the two often spent a lot of time at Tommy's place (featuring that god awful sofa the previous home owner had left). I did originally plan to have them in the sofa shot together, but was finding it hard to figure out who would have been taking that kind of photo so figured it made more sense to make it shots they took of each other.

Also marks the beginnings of Tommy's weariness (& Len's over drinking...)

Outside the Glasgow Pavilion, 1988.

The morning of that fateful performance...

Ok not much else I wanna say about this other than the reference I used for the pose had Reece sorta awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him which I really liked but unfortunately in my art it just looked like he was trying to cover his crotch so I had to change it pfft...

Tommy standing at Len's grave, 2024.

The sixth anniversary of Len's death, and the sixth time Tommy has travelled across from France to lay flowers at his grave. Photo taken by Leanne from the inside of a taxi (I'd like to have had more references to her in these photos but was unsure of dates/ages where it would have fitted...)

She couldn't get her phone to not focus on the raindrops on the window as she tried to take a picture of Tommy at her father's grave but then realised that she actually liked the pathetic fallacy and had it made into a print anyway lol (look I'll be the first to admit that this is the least 'realistic' in terms of a photo that people would take, but I couldn't resist the symbolism of it lol...)

There were a lot more ideas for photos I wanted to do but for obvious reasons had to keep it to just 9 lol

Also will be posting these on my ao3 with snippets of stories to go with each photo so keep an eye out for when I share that link!