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w4ndal0ver · 4 months ago

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Seduction Techniques (mommy!wanda x sub!fem!reader)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: mommy!wanda maximoff x sub!fem!reader (set in the 1960s decade of wandavision, i forgot she doesn't have children at this point but I'm not rewriting it so pretend pls <3)

summary: You work for Stark Innovations as a secretary for Vision. After getting invited to a party at his house you turn up with a clingy and flirtatious colleague. Wanda immediately takes a likening to you, wanting to make you hers, but when she see's your colleague trying to mark her territory, she has to teach you a lesson.

content warnings: shameful mommy kink, gagging, slapping, praise and degradation, slut shaming, masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, toxic possessive wanda, mention of innocence and wandas fascination in your age gap and inexperience, images linked to breast feeding, adultery and gloriying affairs.

word count: 8k (strap in, its a long one)

Seduction Techniques

Stark Innovations, you read tracing the words with your finger. You hadn’t been at the company long, but to be completely honest you had no idea what you were actually working for. You knew that it was a leading technology and defence contractor, known for pushing the boundaries of modern engineering, but that wasn’t where your specialities lied. You’d been Visions secretary for about a week now, basically just running files between different sectors, answering emails and calls, but mainly you felt like you floated around the brightest minds within a 40 mile radius of Westview.

This morning you were sitting at your desk, papers scattered across the surface, trying to figure out what you were supposed to do with all the folders. The office as a whole is a large, sterile space, intimidatingly quiet and you would do anything you could to avoid being noticed by the people who worked around you. This was impossible considering the only woman in the office was sitting adjacent to your desk and every time you glanced over at her, she was always looking curiously at you.

The door of the main office creaked open and everybody looked up as Vision walked into the room, visiting each and every person at their desk with little A6 pieces of card. Once he got to you he spoke in a professional manner, “I wanted to give you this,” He reaches over the unorganised mess of your desk, acting as if he was pretending not to see the state of all of his files, giving you the benefit of the doubt considering it was only your first week.

You take the card, glancing over the elegant script. It was an invitation to a party at his house, seemingly addressed as a mildly professional birthday gathering for himself. “It will be good for you to meet some people outside the office so please come along if you can,” He suggests, “And get this sorted out, come on.” His hands gestured to the stacks of paper all out of order.

You nod, returning the gentle smile, though your mind is already racing with anxiety. You hadn’t expected to have to attend something quite this personal, a considerable line you were forced to cross so soon. You looked around the room, nobody else seemed mildly interested in the invitation, clearly a usual event for the rest of your colleagues. You glanced down at the invitation again, it was signed, Wanda and Vision.

As you looked up from your desk, the brunette woman from across the room was now perching against your desk. “Hi, I’m Natasha by the way, I felt rude for not introducing myself.” She spoke softly, her eyebrow raised slightly as you held your hand out to meet hers in a shake. “Especially considering the testosterone in the room.”

You both giggle, yours slightly more nervous than hers. “Are you going to this thing?” You ask, unsure if you’d be able to attend without a friendly face you could use as a safety blanket if things went south.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Her eyes flickering over you in a way that makes your pulse quicken, even if you weren’t entirely comfortable with how publicly she was speaking to you. “But if you’re going, maybe I could tag along with you?”

��Well I’ve got an invitation, so I guess I’ll see you there.” You laugh nervously, not wanting to seem too thrown by her advances, considering she was the first person, other than your boss, to make an effort to talk to you. Not seeing you as below her as Vision’s secretary. “Who’s Wanda?” You ask, trying to shift the conversation away from her advances.

Natasha’s raised eyebrows tell you all you need to know, her expression clearly surprised. “You haven’t heard about Wanda? Everyone knows who she is.” She smirks, stepping back a little as she sips her coffee out of her floral patterned mug. “She’s Vision’s wife, you’ll see her this weekend. Trust me, you won’t miss her.” She winks, brushing her arm past yours as she walks away. You just nod, feeling a strange flutter of anticipation in your chest at the mystery that went by the name of Wanda.

A few days went by and you were finally in your car, parked outside the address on the envelope. You were a little later than planned, but the grandeur of Vision’s house sat in front of you and you felt a wave of nerves pass over you. It was taking every part of you to not pull out and drive away from the white picket fence that enclosed the well-manicured lawn and perfectly trimmed hedges. You take a deep breath and decide to just face it, knowing that this might be your only chance to be forgiven for what you had to admit was a very bad first impression on your first week.

Inside, everything is even more pristine than the front, polished wooden floors and family souvenirs scattered purposefully everywhere that you looked. It was a warm and welcoming atmosphere, aided by the warm lighting and harmonies of multiple conversations that was happening in the main room. You felt a little out of place, glancing around the small crowd that had gathered all together. You pull at your white buttoned blouse, re-adjusting your collar and smoothing down the creases in your forest green pencil skirt.

Your eyes quickly find Natasha, standing in the corner with a glass of champagne in her hand. She notices you immediately, flashing you a mischievous grin as she saunters over, a slight sway in her hips as she approaches you. “You made it!” She says, her hand sliding casually onto your lower back as she leans her hip slightly closer to yours. You stiffen slightly but you try to play it off, not wanting to break friendships already.

“Yeah, I couldn't miss it.” You admitted honestly, feeling stuck in a state of awkwardness which was quickly cut off by Vision approaching you both, dressed in a well tailored suit.

“I’m glad you could both make it.” He exclaims, his voice slightly tired from the endless introductions and greetings that he was forced into at his own party. He shakes your hand briefly, then glances over his shoulder. “Wanda, darling, come say hello.”

You feel the air shift as Wanda emerges into your eyeline. She’s breathtaking in a subtle, but devastating way. Her red hair twisted into a French plait, pinned elegantly at the back of her head, the soft curled strands falling loose around her face. She’s wearing a deep green dress that hugs her curves in a professional manner, the material catching the warmth of the light just right. Her eyes are green, sharp, almost knowing as they settle on you. Then came her smile, one that could make you melt in an instant, making it hard to look away.

“So, you must be the new one Vision’s told me about.” Her voice is rich, with a slight teasing edge that makes your hairs stand on end. She looks you over in a way that feels far too intimate for a first meeting, her eyes lingering just a little longer than they should, not remaining solely on your face.

Before you have a chance to respond, someone calls her name from across the room. “Sorry I have been summoned,” She laughs, “But please get yourself a drink darling, don’t make me look like a bad host.” You watch her walk away, your eyes drawn to the casual sway of her hips, the graceful way she appears to move through people, like they magnetically moved and formed a path for her.

For the next hour you tried to remain focused in your conversation with Natasha and other fellow colleagues who dropped in and out of your small circle. There was a pull in your chest that kept drawing your gaze back to Wanda, her auburn hair bounced as she spoke, that blush across her cheeks was a magnetic pull. Your stare always seemed to find her figure in the crowd, barely adding anything to any conversation.

“I’m just going to grab another drink.” You say, interrupting the aimless conversation that you weren’t the slightest bit interested in. You, less elegantly, move through the crowd and through the arched doorway into a kitchen that was so suburban you thought you’d stepped into a film. It certainly was no match for your tiny apartment where you can sit on your bed and also open the oven at the same time. There was metres of space around you, but still photo frames and children’s paintings littered the room.

You walked by, eyes catching a wedding photo of Wanda and Vision and you felt guilty for drooling over the way the housewife looked in her wedding dress. You immediately put the frame down, walking to the bottles of wine that were stacked on the counter, twisting the lid open and refilling your own glass.

You’re lost in thought when you hear the soft click of heels against the wooden floor. You turn and your breath hitches when you see Wanda entering the room, a glass of red already in her hand, her lips, slightly wine-stained curling into a smirk as she catches your eye.

“Hiding in here?” She asks, her voice low and smooth as she steps closer. You swallow hard, feeling your heart race in your chest, silently praying that she couldn’t hear it thump against your skin.

“Just needed a moment,” You say, trying to sound casual, “And you know.” You laugh nervously, lifting your freshly refilled glass as Wanda’s eyes beam at you with satisfaction. The tension between the two of you is palpable, almost like you could slice through it with a knife.

“Hm, I don’t think you’re supposed to refill your own glass, especially not at your boss's party.” She teases humorously, watching the pink flush into your cheeks and you hold up your hands ready to apologise. “Ah, ah no need, you’re always welcome.” She reaches over you, your back up against the counter as her fingers graze your upper arm as she grabs for the bottle that you opened. You feel the spark of the touch, sharp but settling as you swallow hard.

“It’s a lovely party Mrs Maximoff.” You compliment, not sure what else to say. She looks down at you, satisfaction lies deep within her green eyes. She waves her hand as if to say she’d heard enough of the small talk all night.

“I couldn’t help but notice how close you and Natasha are.” She asks with genuine curiosity, but you blink surprised by her unashamed bluntness.

“Natasha? No, It’s not like that.” You stammer, caught off guard as your bodies remain intensely close. “We work together, that’s all.”

Wanda laughs softly at your nervousness, her eyebrow arched as she presumed you were suggesting that she would have a problem with it even if you were more than colleagues. “Relax, I’m not that kind of woman.” Her eyes gleam as she takes a deliberately slow sip of her wine, never once breaking eye contact. Your flush was creeping up your neck now, unsure of how to respond. “So no one special hm? Pretty girl like you.”

You couldn’t almost choke on your small sip of wine at the compliment, the liquid getting stuck in your throat. “No, I don’t, most of my time is spent taking care of Vision and work.” You’re not sure why you’d lied, you spent the majority of your time worrying about your job, spending less time doing what you were actually paid to do. There was something about her gaze that was making you feel strangely exposed to the point you were making stuff up on the spot.

Wanda’s lips twitch in amusement as she swirls the wine around her glass at your response, “Oh trust me, I know what that’s like.” There's a wicked glint in her eyes, and just as you’re about to ask what she means, a familiar figure fills the doorway as Vision walks into the room.

“Wanda my darling, can I steal you for a moment.” Wanda nods instantly, turning back to you and rolling her eyes, but not before stealing another slow and lingering glance as she steps past you, her hand brushing your arm, this time her fingers squeezing harder against your skin, lasting far too long to be deemed as innocent.

“We’ll talk later,” She says softly, almost under her breath before she slips out of the room, leaving you standing in the empty space of her kitchen, breathless and more confused than ever. You gulp down the wine, refilling your glass once again.

You noticed how quickly you were getting through drinks, beginning to feel yourself get a little more tipsy. You were now perched on a stool in the living room, listening to the drunk slurs of Natasha still rambling on about something that you lost interest in about half hour ago. Your eyes were still fixed on Wanda, who by the continuous scrapes on the back of her neck and quick breaths that she took when she walked away from someone, you could tell was also becoming slightly more tipsy. She was holding herself better than you, somehow her heels keeping her stable as she pranced elegantly around in that dress that was driving you crazy.

The evening continued to progress and the effects of the wine were at the forefront. It was more than a gentle buzz now leaving your thoughts clouded and your steps a little uneven. You were trying so hard to leave Wanda alone, but the faint clicks of her heels against the polished floor kept bringing you back to watching the way her emerald dress clung to her curves. You watched as a faint shadow of discomfort clouded her usually poised face and you watched her try to slip away unnoticed towards the hallway, which would have been successful if you weren’t watching her so closely.

The tension in her shoulders when she walked made you feel uneasy at your core. Instinctively, you followed her steps, slow and measured, trying to stay upright as you trailed her toward the bathroom. You stop in your tracks when you hear muffled voices behind the door. You could recognise it anywhere, Vision’s voice stern and sharp cutting through the silence.

“You should’ve paid more attention Wanda. Do you know how stupid you’re making yourself look?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the irritation beneath it. You could barely make out her response, but the emotion in the silence that followed was clear. Moments later, the door flew open and Wanda rushed out, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t see you as she brushed past, head down, her heels clicking faster as she made her way to the back door, escaping into her back garden away from the crowd.

You didn’t know what came over you, your heart racing at the sight of her as you followed her out into the garden. The cool night air hit your wine muddled brain and you spotted her sitting on the low stone wall that bordered the garden, her head in her hands, the hem of her dress sitting perfectly around her form. Her red hair was slightly messed from the evening, a few stray tendrils escaping the elegant french plait she had worn so proudly earlier, but you thought she still looked beautiful.

You hesitated, questioning whether the wine was pushing you forward, but you needed to make sure she was okay. “Mrs Maximoff,” Your voice was soft as you stepped closer, she lifted her head quickly, her tear-streaked face turning toward you. In a flash, she wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“Hi, sorry it’s my turn to have a moment.” She tried to laugh, but her voice was hoarse and the lie was painfully obvious.

You sat down beside her, keeping a respectful distance. “You don’t seem fine,” You reach out, placing a comforting hand on her knee. While the contact meant to be reassuring, it sent a jolt of electricity through you both.

Wanda’s lips twisted into a wry smile, her hand overlapping yours as a silent thanks, “It’s just hard you know, You think you’re doing everything right and then it's suddenly not enough.” She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to be a good wife, a good mother, but I don’t know what I’m saying, you’d have no idea, you’re so young.” You could hear the wine laced tone in her voice as she continued rambling, but the genuine hurt was written all over your face. Without thinking, you reached out, brushing her hair back gently, your fingers lingering at the nape of her neck.

“You are an amazing wife Mrs Maximoff, Vision is lucky to have you. And your kids? They’re lucky to have a mother like you,” You compliment honestly, letting your wine thoughts take over, “You’ve got them all plastered all over your house, It’s obvious how much you care about them.”

She paused, her eyes widening slightly, a mixture of surprise and hope. There was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you both faded away.

“You think so?” Her voice softened, a hint of unexpected vulnerability breaking through. Yet despite it all, the tension hung tick in the air as she searched your eyes, her expression shifting. “You barely know me. How could you possibly think that?”

You felt a surge of confidence as you leaned in slightly, heart racing quicker than before. “I don’t need to know everything about you to see what kind of person you are.” You paused, letting your gaze roam over her face, the way the moonlight illuminated her features. “I can see good people from the moment I meet them.”

Her lips now formed a teasing smile, her eyes holding a certain depth that made your breath hitch in the back of your throat. They were flickering with something unreadable. She leaned in just an inch closer, her voice low and laced with flirtation. “Good people, hm?” Her fingers now create circles against the back of your hand, “Careful darling, you might find that I’m not as good as you think.” She tilted her head, deciding to go easier on your innocent face that responded silently to her teasing, “I can’t imagine a young, attractive girl like you could really mean that.”

You felt heat flood your cheeks, caught off guard by her compliment. You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady, though you were sure she could hear the slight tremble in it. “I do mean it. I might not know everything about you, but you’re more than just Vision’s wife or your children's mother.” You shifted closer, your heart pounding harder in your chest as you dared to let your gaze linger on her lips. “You’re something special Mrs Maximoff.”

Her face darkened at your words, her smile fading into something softer, more intense. She let out a quiet breath, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation. Her thighs subtly began to squeeze together, every time you addressed her by her title rather than her name which she had introduced herself as, but you choosing to remain innocently respectful was driving her crazy. Wanda couldn’t help but imagining corrupting your innocent little mind, having you bent over for her while she fucked you dumb.

“Special... is that what you think I am?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, dripping with curiosity and something else—something far more dangerous.

You nodded, the words caught in your throat as your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your ears. Her fingers stopped their slow, deliberate movements and instead curled gently around your hand, her thumb brushing the side of your palm in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

Wanda’s eyes darted down to your lips, her breath warm and shallow. She hesitated, her voice now even softer than before, vulnerable beneath the weight of the growing tension between you. “You’re so sweet to me honey, and you barely know me.” Her lips now hovered inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. “I might not be the good person you think I am. What if I make you regret it darling.”

Your core trembled at how close her face had become to your own. The desire in her voice was slowly unravelling you, but instead of pulling away, you allowed the wine to give you the confidence to lean in further, closing the distance until your lips were almost touching. Your voice trembling, “I don’t think I could regret you Mrs Maximoff.”

That was her final straw, she snapped the tension as she closed the gap between you with a soft, deliberate kiss, the kind that felt like a blow burn igniting deep in your chest. The touch of her lips was light at first, testing, teasing, but when you didn’t pull away from her advance, her hand cupped the back of your neck, tangling itself in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

Your fingers instinctively gripped her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her now bunched up dress, and for a moment, nothing else mattered but the way her lips moved against yours, her tongue swiping your bottom lip before taking it into her teeth and tugging against it, making you whine desperately against her mouth.

Wanda pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breathing uneven as she whispered, “I told you, I’m not as good as you think,” Her thumb brushed over your jaw, her lips ghosting yours again, a low, teasing chuckle escaping her, “But I could take care of you, you know that don’t you.”

Her voice dropped lower, that familiar tone slipping into something more playful, more commanding, “Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special.”

Your pulse quickened again, heat flooding your body as her words wrapped around you. You were at a loss for words, you were particularly inexperienced and you’d never had anyone that looked or sounded like the way Wanda spoke to you. You could feel the arousal pooling between your legs, your mind reeling from the kiss, from her touch, from the way she held complete control. Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approached from behind you.

“Well this is cosy.” Natasha’s voice broke the tension like a whip. You jerked away from Wanda, your heart racing as Natasha appeared at the edge of the garden, her expression one of amusement, but there was something dangerously possessive flashing behind Wanda’s eyes. “There you are,” She slurred, her hand reaching out to grab your arm and you could see Wanda desperately trying to not stand up for your defence, “Come on, let's get back inside gorgeous.”

You were too stunned to resist as Natasha pulled you up from the wall. You glanced back at Wanda, your heart aching at the sight of her. She sat there, watching you with a look that was far more than just jealousy—it was something primal, something dark.

Your chest tightened with a sense of dread, knowing you were in deep trouble. You’d crossed a line, and there was no going back.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but Wanda’s gaze never left your mind. You didn’t see her again before you left, and now, the thought of returning to work and seeing Vision—after kissing his wife in their own garden—was enough to make you feel dizzy.

That night, after you’d managed to find your way home, you felt a shameful amount of guilt and you couldn't sleep. Even as the moonlight spilled through the slats of your blinds, casting a soft glow across your room, your mind was racing. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. The way her lips had felt pressed against yours, the warmth of her breath, her voice, thick with desire, echoing in your ears.

"Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special"

The words sent a shiver through you, settling deep in your core. Your body stirred, heart pounding harder as you recalled the way her fingers had brushed over your skin, the unspoken promise in her touch, the way her lips had lingered just a moment longer than necessary. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was no use. Wanda was all you could think about, and the more you tried to ignore it, the worse it got.

Your hand moved slowly beneath the sheets, almost without thinking, fingertips grazing over your stomach as a small gasp escaped your lips. You hesitated for a moment, but the memory of her was too strong, too intoxicating. Your body ached with need, your breath coming quicker as you gave in to the desire swirling inside you.

You imagined her—her red hair falling in loose curls, the way her lips had formed into that teasing smile. The way her eyes had darkened with want when she’d leaned in close, her voice a low murmur meant only for you. "You’re so sweet…" her voice replayed in your head, as though she were there beside you, whispering in your ear. "But maybe I’m not as good as you think..."

Your hand slipped lower, and you bit your lip as a soft moan escaped you, your body responding to the thought of her, the memory of how she’d kissed you in the garden, her fingers so possessive, so commanding. Every touch, every word, was still fresh in your mind, and it made your pulse quicken.

You imagined her voice, soft and sultry, like velvet wrapping around you. "You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?" you could almost hear her purring, her lips ghosting over your neck as her hand trailed lower, just like yours was now. "I could take care of you, make you feel so good…"

Your breath hitched as your fingers dipped lower, finally giving into the need that had been building since that kiss. The pressure of your hand, the soft movement, made you arch into the sensation, biting your lip harder as the heat coiled in your belly. You imagined that it was her touching your clit, making you gasp carefully at the touch. The image of Wanda’s smile, her possessive gaze, fueled the fire, every thought of her pushing you closer to the edge.

"Mommy knows how to make her good girl feel special…"

Your fingers moved faster, the wetness between your thighs a stark reminder of how much she had affected you. You pressed your head back against the pillow, your free hand gripping the sheets as the memory of her touch consumed you. The way her voice had dipped, teasing and dangerous, the way her hand had lingered on your skin—everything about her had left you aching for more. Your eyes were closed, the image of her face hovering over you, that smirk cutting through you as she watched you fall apart underneath her touch.

Your breath came out in soft pants, your body tense as the pleasure built, spiralling out of control. It was all Wanda—her lips, her touch, her dominance—everything about her had ignited something in you that you couldn’t ignore. Your hips bucked against your hand as you chased that release, imagining her there with you, whispering in your ear, telling you how much she wanted to take care of you.

"Good girl."

That was all it took. Your body tensed, your back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your soft moan filling the quiet room as your hand stilled between your thighs, shivering in the aftermath. The tension released in a rush, your body trembling as you slowly came down from the high, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

But even as the pleasure ebbed away, Wanda’s presence lingered in your mind, a constant pull that you knew would only grow stronger the more you thought of her. And you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As you lay there, your heart finally slowing, one thought circled back in your mind, sending a thrill through you: this was far from over. You had tasted something dangerous, something forbidden—and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold yourself together if you got the chance to see her again.

You woke up a few hours later to the sound of your alarm, hitting the clock you rose and was immediately drawn to the stickiness between your thighs from your activity the night before. You’d made such a mess of yourself to the thought of her, something that you had barely done before. Even without her there she made you feel so dirty and a part of you absolutely loved it. You decided to leave the same underwear on, enjoying how uncomfortable you felt sitting in the dampened fabric, a constant reminder of Wanda.

Your head was aching from the alcohol you’d consumed, but you managed to find your way to your desk as the office settled into its usual afternoon quiet. You’d been struggling to stay focused all day and when Vision approached you earlier you felt your voice squeak, squirming in your chair as you felt your arousal grow just at the thought of his wife.

Once again, Natasha was hovering over your desk, finding reasons to brush her hand over your arm, her touch lingering in a way that sent mixed signals. You were trying your best to stay focused, but your distracted mind didn’t have the energy to shake her away from you.

“I wouldn’t mind taking you out for a drink later, If you’re up for it.” She leans in, her voice low and teasing but unlike Wanda’s tone from the night before, she didn’t make you want to drop everything in order to go on an uncomfortably flirtatious date with your needy colleague. You felt bad leading her on, but your mind was elsewhere.

Before you can even formulate an excuse, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, the familiar daunting sound of the click of heels against the laminated floor. Everything around you seems to freeze. Wanda Maximoff. You tense up, recognising her immediately before her mind catches up to you. She walks into the office, a few greetings heading her way from the other men sitting at desks closer to the door. Your mouth hung ajar slightly at her figure wrapped in an elegant dress.

You try to maintain your composure, but as you watch Wanda glance around, her expression purposefully remaining neutral, yet you still feel the weight of her gaze land briefly on Natasha, who still stands too close to you.

“I’m just dropping off some files for Vision.” Her voice is calm, smooth, but you can sense the underlying tension in the way her eyes dart between you and Natasha.

“Vision’s actually out for the day, but I can take care of that for you.” You stand up from your desk, stepping towards her as you gesture toward the file in her hands, hoping to appear professional though your nerves are evident in the tremble in your fingers.

Wanda’s lips twitch into a smile, her fingers tightening slightly around the folder as if she was considering whether to hand it over. For a moment, her gaze locks onto yours, and there's something intense, something dangerous simmering just beneath her incredible composed exterior.

“Are you sure? It’s important.” She says, her voice dropping with faux innocence, though the way her eyes linger on you sends a very different message. You nod, managing a small smile.

“I’ve got it. You don’t need to worry.” You reach for the file, your fingers brushing hers briefly as you take it from her. That sends a jolt through your core and you can’t help but notice the slight smirk that pulls at Wanda’s lips as she watches your reaction.

Natasha is standing behind you, recognising the obvious tension between you both. “Always so helpful, aren’t you?” She teases, but there's a sharp edge to her tone now. She steps closer to you, her hand lightly brushing your shoulder once again, as if claiming her territory in front of Wanda.

Wanda’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, though her smile remains calm and composed. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands then.” Her voice is velvet, but you can feel the jealousy bubbling beneath her words.

“I’ll make sure your husband gets them.” Natasha says, a harsh tone to her voice, accentuating heavily on the reminder that Wanda is married. The brunette continues to hover far too close to Wanda’s liking and you watch her gaze harden, her green eyes practically burning with unspoken possessiveness. The air between the three of you feels suffocating, and all you can do is stand there, caught in the middle, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly Wanda retracts her previous statement as she was about to leave, “Actually we need to talk privately,” She doesn’t wait for a response, her hand lightly gripping your arm as she gestures towards Vision’s office, “Now.”

The way she says it makes it sound less like a suggestion and more like an order and you follow her without hesitation, your heart racing as she sways her hips purposefully in time with the click of her heel as she steps.

As soon as the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts. Wanda is no longer the calm, collected housewife she usually presents herself as. She turns to face you, her eyes darkening with something that was dangerously close to fury. Before you have a chance to greet her properly she shoves you harshly into the office door, the blinds to the door window already closed from Vision before he left.

“What the fuck was that.” She spits at you, her voice dripping with disdain. She grips your jaw between her hand, forcing your face up to look directly at her, her thumb digging particularly hard into your cheek. “Natasha is a bit too friendly, don't you think?” She growls her name, her manicured nails scratching into your skin as she sputters her name.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanour, yet there was something so intoxicating and addictive about it. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what? Let her flirt with you.” She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing against your ear as her grip on your jaw tightened. “You think you can play around with people like her? You’re just a little girl, you don’t know what's good for you.”

Your heart raced at her words, the fire in her tone igniting a thrilling mix of fear and desire within your core. “You’re so young, so naive. You think you can handle this?” She steps back slightly, her eyes narrowing as she assesses your body trembling, wincing as she roughly tugs your face up further, making you uncomfortable. “You need someone to teach you, to take care of you. Someone who knows what’s best for you.” There was an edge to her voice, a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

You opened your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off. “No, don’t say a word.” Her voice was low, commanding, stepping in closer again, feeling the heat radiating from her fury. She leans into your neck, her grip tugging your head to one side as she licks a strong stroke up the length of your throat, biting into your ear lobe making you whine.

“You need to learn your place.” Her other hand gripped your wrist, shoving you harder into the door, “Your place is with me, not that pathetic little whore.” You felt a rush of submission wash over you at her words.

“Mrs Maximo-”

She delivered a sharp slap to the side of your face and you let out a sharp moan at the hot sensation spread across your cheek. “You don’t get to speak right now.” Her eyes flashing with a fierce protectiveness, “You are mine, you listen to me.” Her hand finds its way to your throat, gripping you so tightly she’d cut the oxygen completely off, your eyes fluttering as you went lightheaded.

She loosens her grip, not letting you go, your head still flush against the door looking up to her with your innocent eyes. “You’re not ready for that type of attention.” She was looking at you now as if to be assessing your worth to her, “I will teach you to be good, how to belong to someone.”

“But I want to make my own choices.” You plead, your cheeks flushed as her grip tightened harder than before, your throat caught in the whirlwind of her anger and jealousy.

“No you don’t” Her voice had calmed and her grasp around your neck was now just fingers brushing against your skin, finding the curve of your jaw and gently caressing you. “You want me to take care of you.”

You couldn’t help but nod, the truth of her words resonating deep within you. You had wanted this since the moment you set your eyes on her, you just didn’t really know what this was before now. You felt your innocent leaking out of you in the form of your arousal dampening your already ruined underwear.

“You don’t think pretty girl, just let Mommy think for you.” Her fingers like fire brushing against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Aw, you like the idea of that don’t you.” Her breath was stern against your neck, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Her hand brushing the pink flush of your cheeks, one side significantly darker from the slap you received earlier.

“Now Mommy’s going to teach you how to behave.” She teases, finally letting go of your face and your throat and you breathe heavily in order to catch up with your racing heart race. You’re stuck flush against the door, watching as she packs up a section of Vision’s desk, tapping the top of the wooden surface, gesturing you to come and sit up on it.

You do it immediately, but as you go to perch against it she grabs your thighs from underneath and roughly pushes you to where she wants you. Her hands bunch your dress up to your waist, revealing your light pink underwear, a little bow sewn in the middle of the hem. She also saw that you weren’t wearing tights, but thigh high socks and she scoffed at the sight of you.

She cups your pussy, only again chuckling at the warm dampness that immediately soaked into her palm. “Honey you’re soaking for mommy.” She places more pressure into you, the heel of her palm pushing dangerously into your sensitive clit, making you yelp. You could tell that you looked guilty, immediately remembering how you’d ruined them a few hours before. “Have you touched yourself in these?”

You nod shamefully and she hooks her finger under the hem at the side, yanking them down quickly and removing them completely from your legs. “Did you get some big feelings, pretty girl? Tell me.” She bunched your panties in her hands, bringing them up to her face and inhaling your sweet scent before tossing them to the side.

You could choke on her words, but when she pushed your thighs apart wider, standing between you, forcing them to stay open as she roughly pushed two fingers inside of you, immediately curling them upwards at a relentless pace you had never experienced before. “Tell me.” She warns dangerously, quickening her pace, wanting to hear the desperate shake in your voice.

“There was a funny feeling in my stomach that night you kissed me.” You panted heavily, “I had to touch myself, imagining that it was you.” You sounded so pathetic but Wanda was lapping it up, her thumb finding your clit as you leant back against the desk, holding yourself up by gripping the opposite end of the desk.

“When was this pretty girl?” Wanda asks, her motions now remaining a continuous pace now that she’d found the one level higher than it seemed you could take comfortably.

“Last night.”

“And you wore them today.” Wanda scoffs, her smirk dangerous and sultry, her green eyes dark as she starts thrusting hard into you. You nod in shame, your head hanging low as she scrunched your eyes at the rough contact against your bundle of nerves. “You’re filthy aren’t you, a filthy little girl for mommy.”

“Yes Mommy, I’m your filthy little girl.” You could barely string sentences together, each word caught in a high pitched moan. You hear footsteps from outside the office, people walking by and Wanda stills her movements, pulling out of you and moving backwards remembering that she’d forgotten to lock the door.

“You sound so pretty for Mommy, but you need to stay quiet.” She whispers, her own hand dipping underneath her dress, feeling the soaked fabric of her own underwear before pulling them off. You watch in awe as her black laced panties hooped at her ankles, she steps out of them, the click of her heels louder as they step back to the ground. She bunches them in her hand, her other hand grazing your lips, prying them open before slotting her dampened underwear between your lips, “For safe measure.” She smirked, you looked so pathetically desperate with her laced lingerie gagging you.

You felt dizzy as the taste of her arousal leaked onto your tongue, you groaned at the sweet taste of her, but your groan was painfully muffled. She delivered a quick slap to your thighs, you opened your legs immediately and she pushed her fingers back inside of you, once again not giving you a chance to react before she was thrusting harshly into you. “You enjoy the taste of Mommy while I ask you why you’ve come to work looking like such a slut when you don’t work for me, but rather my husband.”

You try to defend yourself, but no words come out as your tongue continues to circle the dampened fabric, barely able to see as Wanda adds a third finger to the other two relentlessly working inside of you. “Who are you trying to impress?” You shake your head at the accusation, no other way of getting your words across.

Your core is trembling as Wanda harshly fucks you with her fingers, her nails now digging into your back, forcing you forward to lean into her chest. The new angle made her go insanely deeper inside of you, leaving you moaning loudly into her chest. Your head rested right against her breasts and you could feel her painfully erect nipples against your cheek through her dress.

As her thumb begins to draw torturous circles around your clit, the sensations are way too stimulating for someone of your little experience. You tug desperately at the buttons of her dress and she looks down at you while her wrist continues its same rough thrusts. “You wanna suck on Mommy?” You nod frantically at the assumption and she smiles at you, placing a gentle kiss to your temple, your emotions confused at the gentle gesture while her fingers were fucking you dumb. She removed her underwear from your mouth, draping them over the edge of the desk as a constant reminder that she could gag you if you mess up.

She allows you to undo the top of her dress, managing to find your way to her soft porcelain skin, her breast perked upwards and you immediately latch onto her hardened nub. You whimper softly at the feeling of your lips against her nipple, using your tongue to softly flick over her breast, making it easier for you to manage the pace in which she was fucking you, her nails gripping into your waist, pulling your front flush against hers as your mouth refuses to let go of your natural gag.

Each time her thumb flicked your clit so precisely, you whined against her nipple, the vibrations making her wrist pump harder into you. She felt you suckles getting harder, your teeth lightly grazing as you felt your core tighten around her fingers. “You’re close aren’t you princess.”

You nod desperately, letting go of her aching nipple with a pop as you look up at her pleadingly. “Those puppy dog eyes aren’t letting me forget how you let Natasha touch you, only good girls get to cum when they want.” Then suddenly all contact was removed from you and you looked up at her with desperate confusion. She brushes her hand across your lips, your sweet arousal lingering on your mouth.

“Mommy?” You say, your voice laced with confusion as you are left on the brink of your orgasm, your hips jutting uncontrollably to try and gain contact.

“Mommy wants to taste you, I’ll give you what you want once I hear what I want from that pretty mouth of yours.” She says, her voice stern as she drops to her knees in front of you, her hands caressing your inner legs through those sheer thigh-highs that were driving Wanda crazy. She imagined having you in her and Visions bed, ankles lied to your wrists as you lied on your front before she fucked you senseless with her strap. But she was more than satisfied as she smelt your arousal in front of you, your wetness glistening against your skin and your perfect folds. She was obsessed with the way your pussy looked, so tight and neat, perfectly untouched.

Wanda pushes her hair behind her ears, diving in to consume you, taking one long lick from the bottom of your slit, right up to the top of your trembling clit. She looked up at you, trying your best to sit so she could see your face, your eyes crunched and bottom lip between your teeth. “Who do you belong to?” She asks, before sucking against your exposed clit, protruding desperately as she clasps her lips around it.

“You Mommy only you.” You pant breathlessly, your feet digging hard into her back in an attempt to stay still and docile for Wanda. She continued to suck against you, pulling back, kissing an individual kiss against your bundle of nerves.

“Who is not allowed to go near you.” She says, before diving straight back in, this time her hand reaches the top of your mound, stretching your skin upwards so her tongue could flick harshly against your aching clit, pushing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Natasha.”

With the name spoken, her teeth gently nip at your clit and you let out an exasperated cry of pain before she soothes it with her saliva, spitting softly onto your cunt so her tongue would glide effortlessly through your folds. She pulls back one more time, enjoying the sound of your worn out voice, still trying so hard to please her. “What happens if Mommy finds out something like today happens again.”

“Mommy will punish me.” You gasp, your core burning as the orgasm twirled in your stomach, threatening to rip right through you as Wanda maintains her hold, leaving your clit completely exposed to the rough attack of her tongue. You were doing everything you can to drag out the feelings of pleasure and pain against your cunt, not wanting this spaced out feeling to end, you knew you’d do anything she asked, take anything she wanted you to in this moment. With the grip of her nails into your waist, her tongue relentlessly working you up you reach the point of no return, the inevitable orgasm ripping through you at an intense level, your skin felt like it was burning apart as her name tumbled from your lips, her tongue not once stopping.

She continued until you rode out your high, your hips rutting against her tongue as she tried to hold you down, but secretly loving the feeling of your body not being able to control itself, knocking into her mouth over and over again. Once you let out your last heavy breath, Wanda emerged from under your bunched up dress, one final kiss delivered to your entrance before immediately grabbing you into a soft, gentle kiss that shared your arousal through your tongues sliding against each other.

“That's a good girl, I think you learned your lesson.” Wanda smirks, pulling you into a careful embrace as your body shakes against her hold. “Now you go back out there and pretend Mommy didn’t just fuck you dumb in your bosses office.”

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infraprojectsgroup · 2 years ago

Link

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#line marking service melbourne #line marking contractor melbourne #line marking company melbourne

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ariawins · 5 months ago

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My Vespersona being a silly lil gal 😌 I'll post some of her cliché lore in the read more.

She had always been on the stage. Her singing and dancing had captivated audiences since she was a young girl. She loved nothing more than performing and bringing joy to her fans. But there was one person who had captured her heart even more than her audience - Scarlett. For years, her and Scarlett had danced and sang together, their chemistry on stage undeniable. And as they grew closer, their love for each other blossomed. They were the perfect pair, and it was no surprise when they announced their plans to marry.

However, as their wedding day approached, she began experiencing strange symptoms. She would forget her lines on stage, and strange marks started appearing on her skin. She tried to hide it from Scarlett, afraid of what she might think. But as the marks spread and her memory continued to fail her, her contractor, who had been working with her for years, could no longer ignore it. He screamed that she had become useless, an ugly monster and could no longer perform. It was a harsh reality, but she refused to give up.

She researched for a cure, praying everyday to her solar god for help. But nothing seemed to work. As the days passed, her condition worsened. She could no longer remember her childhood, her age, or even her name. And the face of her beloved Scarlett became a blur, a stranger insisting they were meant to be together. It was all too much for her. She couldn't bear to see the disappointment in Scarlett's eyes or the fear in her fans' faces. So she ran away, seeking refuge under the mountain in search of a rumored cure - Lunar Ichor. It was a dangerous journey, but she was desperate.

She would do anything to go back to the supposed perfect life she once had before this terrible curse took over her. Shortly after entering the mountain, she heard about the beloved Lunar church in the market place. Her heart raced with excitement and she immediately headed there in search for any leads of the Lunar ichor.

Little did she know, this would be her worst outcome. As she entered the church, she was greeted by a curious priest named Cirrus. He promised her protection and a possibility for salvation, claiming to have a few leads on how to obtain the Lunar ichor. She was drawn to his words, entranced by his promises. As days turned into weeks, she slowly began to forget *everything* about her past life. She meandered around the church like a ghost, blindly trusting Cirrus and his teachings. She was a mere shadow of her former self, trapped in the grasp of the Lunar priest.

#fanart #my art #digital art #oc #obscura vn #vespersona #cirrus

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ottpopfic · 5 months ago

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“Hey hey” Leo interrupts, Jason realizes that he was getting himself worked up again “I'm here now right, right here. Feel me, I'm here”

He puts his head down and just, smells him. Leo squeezes him close putting his own face in Jason’s hair

And he is here. Jason takes his hands and traces it up and down Leo’s side. He can feel the patterns of his lightning scar, the rougher texture of the Lichtenberg figures forking at the ribcage. The pock mark contractor scars that scatter over his legs and back left over from Leo’s first death, just more proof that he survived that they are both here.

Jason has scars too, he did get stabbed a bunch in the back and sliced in half, but not like Leo. Leo got exploded on two separate occasions, which leaves its mark no matter the magical rejuvenation. Add falling off Festus and getting crushed to death and his Leo is a constellation of scar tissue.

The lightning scar is different though, it's always been different. It was only his third death, but it was Jupiter that killed him. The Lichtenberg figures show just how he was blown to pieces; the entry point in the left shoulder, the smaller branches down his arm and back, the huge line down his front that splits at his ribcage to go either side of his navel, the exit points at his thigh and pelvis and spine. It's his largest scar, gained from cursing out the king of the heavens to his face. For Jason

But its probably has something to do with the lightning that has Jason obsessed over it. Here is Leo, ever so afraid of his gift hurting the people he loves, sporting a permanent reminder of Jason’s power. It feels both like a failure and a claim, that Leo died from his domain but also survived. That he is marked by the sky, both lost and won, all for Jason

Also it leads a very enticing trail to mouth down to more creative places but that is beside the point

Either way Jason presses a few kisses into the entry point of the strike and then rests his cheek there so he can gaze up at Leo’s face. Leo just turns his head so he can press his lips into Jason’s forehead

“I love you” Leo tells him, in the way he does just because he can

“I love you too” Jason sighs back, he really truly does

#cant remember if I've posted this yet #blurb #pjo #valgrace #jason grace #leo valdez #pjo hoo toa

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dragonnarrative-writes · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day 1 - Voyeurism

Kate Laswell x Bricks (CIA Asset OC)

CW: Dub-con/Non-con voyeurism (one person is not aware they are being watched), surveillance, sex work, dirty talk, degradation, impact play, daddy kink, too many mirrors, too much setup and an abrupt ending, big dogs

“Got me Watcher?” Bricks covers the movement of her mouth by touching up her lipstick in the mirrored wall of the elevator.

“Coming in clear,” Kate answers. “Go ahead and run a final calibration on the lenses.” She marks the edges of the camera range as Bricks sweeps her eyes in a practiced pattern to confirm the fit and function of the contacts. When she crosses her eyes and sticks her tongue out, confusing the feed, Kate chuckles. “Save it for Mendoza.”

“Please,” Bricks snickers. “My best is wasted on him.”

The doors open. Two large men, Mendoza’s bodyguards, usher Bricks forward. Real professionals, Kate notes, neither of them letting their eyes linger on stunning legs or exposed cleavage. One waves a wand over her, hair to heels, and the other takes the clutch from Bricks’ hand. He rifles through it, then doesn’t give it back.

“My second best lipstick is in there,” Bricks protests, half-heartedly. “I’m gonna want that back, later.”

“You’ll get it back when you leave,” the man grunts. “Come with us please.”

“Give me doors,” Kate instructs as they proceed down the hall. The cameras flick almost aimlessly as her asset strides between her escorts, but Kate is ready. “Left again,” she murmurs, quickly tagging frames for review. “Good girl.”

Once Bricks is handed off to Mendoza, the real work starts. Dinner goes as expected. Mendoza brags and paws. Bricks is charming, flirty, and teasing. She plays every bit of her part while Kate half listens and reviews data on the guards. Contractors, she notes as Bricks titters about something. Mendoza is just oggling her tits, so Kate continues reading the dossier. Contractors, good ones. Ex-military, but unlikely to see Bricks for the threat she is. The only problem will be-

“Puppies,” Bricks coos, as two Rottweilers come trotting up to the table. “I love dogs. How old are they?”

“They’re trained as part of the security detail,” Kate states as Mendoza goes on about pedigree. “German commands.”

Bricks kisses one of the dogs on the snout. “Do they know any tricks?”

“They’re trained killers,” the mark brags. “Only listen to me and designated handlers.”

“The handler command is folge mir,” Kate provides. Luckily, Bricks isn’t able to comment on her abysmal accent. “Ruhig. Geh runter.”

It doesn’t take long for Mendoza to send the dogs away, tired of not being the center of attention. And Bricks plays him like a fiddle, drawing him all around the penthouse to give Kate sight lines, the layout, and an unobstructed view of the server room through the kitchen.

When he finally catches her, Kate cant help but snort. “Is he as bad a kisser as he sounds? Your not usually this all over the place."

Bricks doesn’t bother to hold back a soft laugh. Mendoza lifts his mouth from her neck with an almost affronted grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry,” she giggles, with a peck to his lips. “Ticklish, and I just feel good with you.”

“Can I make you feel better?”

“Here’s hoping,” Kate mutters as she counts server racks in Bricks’ periphery. The woman’s laugh rings off the marble counter tops.

Kate doesn’t bother watching the feed as Bricks kisses Mendoza down the hall, eyes closed to avoid any chance he might notice her contacts. When she opens her eyes again, Kate stifles a groan and pulls out her cigarettes. Mendoza’s bedroom has an entire wall of mirrors, and another on the wall above his headboard. Bricks kisses him some more, but in no time, she’s bent over the bed, looking at her own breasts nearly spilling from the top of her dress.

She’s there for… a lot longer than Kate expected. Whatever Mendoza is doing, she looks as bored as she ever does when she’s in character. Kate decides to step in when she moans, rote.

“Oh no,” Kate chuckles, grinning when Bricks’ eyes snap to her reflection. “I know you can do better than that. If I have to watch you have sex, you’re going to make it worth my while. Get that ass in the air, lets’s see if Mendoza can’t be good for something.”

Bricks’ next moan is much more resonant. Mendoza echoes her as he bends over her back, no doubt pressing his cock against her barely there panties.

“Ask for a spanking,” Kate commands, lighting a cigarette. “Ask nice, the way I like.”

“Please spank me, daddy,” Bricks moans, holding eye contact with the mirror, staring directly at Kate.

“Good girl, there you go,” Kate purrs, over Mendoza’s tiresome noises. “Too bad he’s going to be such a shit lay. You’re right, your best is wasted on him. Say thank you.”

Bricks hisses after Mendoza gives her three quick, sloppy strikes. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Fuck, you’re a slut, huh?” Mendoza flips her, and Kate laughs to see the mirrored tiles on the ceiling. “I can be your daddy, baby girl.”

“I’m tired of hearing his voice,” Kate scoffs. “Put his mouth to use.”

Bricks opts to grab a fistful of his hair and drag the man down her body. Kate gets to enjoy the view of her, chest heaving and disheveled as she winks up at her reflection. There’s no rolling eyes - there’s nothing of interest in the room, really, and Mendoza is apparently all noise and no skill.

“Touch yourself,” Kate commands. “Give yourself a show, beautiful.”

Bricks draws the fingers of her free hand down her neck, toying with her necklace before pushing the fabric of her dress down beneath full breasts. Kate makes an appreciative noise when she pinches a nipple. The woman in the mirror moans and arches her hips into the mouth between her thighs. Her eyes go half-lidded, when Mendoza pulls away to pant against her, one hand working its way up to prod at her. He groans something about “wet” and “tight,” like he had anything to do with the first and doesn’t understand the implications of the second.

“Please,” Bricks moans at her reflection.

“Oh,” Kate chuckles, “Is he really that good?”

“Roll over,” Mendoza growls as he stands. He’s dropped his pants and underwear.

“No,” Kate snorts. “I’m not watching your bored face as you compare him to Ghost. Ride him.”

All it takes is one skilled twist of Bricks’ hips before Mendoza is lying on his back, groaning under the woman Kate could command to kill him at any moment.

But Kate simply sits back in her chair. “Finish him off before I finish this cigarette, and I’ll let you come.”

Bricks narrows her eyes at the mirror. Kate can almost hear her calculating how long it’s been since she heard the click of the lighter. And then she balances on the balls of her feet and Kate grins as she watches the woman tear Mendoza’s orgasm from him with brutal efficiency.

“Good girl.”

#kinktober 2024 #kate laswell x oc #kate laswell #oc: bricks #smut and thirst #kink fics #hahahahaha this was not short #i'm really not built for very short stories #but i wont stop trying #in my head Mendoza's not even the main guy #hes a means to an end #and kate will utilize her asset to get to that end #okay i'll stop rambling

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daydreamgoddess14 · 25 days ago

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this love left a permanent mark - Chapter 1

Hi!! Need something for your Sunday reading?

In an assignment that takes them undercover as a married couple, Sid and River must navigate the fine line between their cover story and their growing feelings for each other. As they infiltrate a defence contractor to uncover a secret insider threat, they must balance their mission objectives with the undeniable chemistry that sparks between them. Will their real feelings compromise their mission, or will they find a way to keep both intact?

River Cartwright x Sid Baker, no warnings required aside from a bit of bad language.

Approx 8.5k words

Full Masterlist

River Cartwright x Sid Baker Masterlist

Taglist: @a-sunflower-in-bloom @sad-quality @linkpk88

She didn't miss them. Not any of them, not at all.

She didn't miss Ho's incessant chatter, or Louisa’s ‘don't you dare speak unless I've had three cups of coffee’ attitude.

She didn't miss Lamb using belching as punctuation, or Catherine's disappointed frown when she saw the state of River's desk.

She didn't miss River. Or Shirley. Or any of them.

But god, her new co-workers were boring.

It was draining, having to be so nice all the time.

If she'd been this nice for consecutive minutes - let alone weeks - at Slough House, River wouldn't let her hear the end of it.

Being nice was boring.

She missed the fire at Slough House, the snippy little arguments. Knowing that you could be yourself without having to tread on eggshells.

No one expected nice, or even polite.

You want to be in a foul mood and keep your headphones on all day? Go for it.

Equally, you wanted to make a round of tea - with biscuits - without being forced? Go for it.

No expectations.

Now that, she did miss.

She'd been on her best behaviour for weeks.

“Oh, Sid! Thank you so much for your help on the Callahan project,” a bright, happy face appeared next to her desk. “I owe you, big time!”

“No problem Dilly. I told you, Polish translations are easy.” Sid smiled.

“For you maybe, I just can't seem to pick it up the way I did German.”

“Apparently German is an easier language to learn.”

“You need anything for lunch?”

“No thanks, I've got to go and get a click and collect order,” Sid closed her laptop.

“Have you ordered anything new for the weekend trip yet?” Dilly asked eagerly.

“Not yet, is it really that important?”

Dilly’s jaw dropped. Sid wondered if she might have to scrape it off her desk.

“Important? It’s only the event of the year! Everyone is going to be there. If you want to get on in this place - or down the road at Westminster - you just have to go.”

“I’ve only been here a few weeks, I’m probably not even on the list -”

“You are, and you get a plus one. Honestly, you underestimate how crucial it is. The company uses it as a team-building thing, they invite a few government heads of department, next thing you know you’re an MP for some shitty town up north and you’ve got a cushy job for life.”

Sid frowned.

“I don’t want to be an MP -”

“That’s just an example. The weekend gets you in… to the clique, the top set y’know. My first time I was so nervous! I've been going a few years now.”

“And did you get anything good out of it?”

“Well… not yet, but Diego reckons I’m in line for Warwick’s job when he moves across to government - which he will. Probably after this year’s weekend away.”

“Right,” Sid’s frown deepened.

“Besides, it’s in Venice?! Surely you’re not going to miss out on that?”

“And I get a plus one?”

She fiddled with the ring on left hand, a simple, narrow gold band.

“Yep! Which means I get to meet the hubby at last, is he fit?”

“He’s… gorgeous.” Sid smiled.

“Got a pic?”

The smile on Sid’s face froze. Shit.

She didn’t have a picture. Hell, she didn’t have a husband! Or even a plan for one.

‘He’ was just part of the backstory, to get people talking.

And now… she needed one. Not just a picture of any old internet stock photo. A real, breathing human who could survive a weekend in Venice.

Lamb would have to come up with a plan. Maybe the Park would send someone.

“No… I -”

“Not even a wedding picture?”

Shit. Was this girl for real?

“They’re not back from the photographer yet.”

“Yeah, but like, your mum took some pics though? His mum?”

“It was super intimate. Just the two of us.”

Dilly looked put out.

“I’ll be back in a bit, I’ve really got to collect this order before it goes back to the warehouse. I’ll have a look when I’m back, see if I can find a photo for you.” You nosey cow.

The offer did the trick, Dilly squealed with delight and went back to her desk.

“Can’t wait! I looked for you on Facebook and nothing,” seriously, was this girl for real?

“I’m not on social media.”

“Don’t I know it! Insta, Snap, girl, I looked everywhere for you!”

“Why would you need to do that?” Sid asked, trying to act as if Dilly’s actions were totally normal. The younger woman shrugged.

“I like to know who I’m working with, silly! We spend sooo much time working, don’t you think it’s nice when it becomes such a family environment?”

Sid thought about Slough House, which admittedly, she now felt a pang for.

“Love it,” she smiled through gritted teeth, “love it so much when that happens. So much.”

She made her escape, letting out a huff of relief as she entered the lift.

She moved quickly down the road towards M&S, jumped in the queue at the cafe next to the Click and Collect desk and ordered a round of toast and a coffee. She slipped into a booth in the corner, one side already occupied.

“Mind if I sit here? It’s a bit busy!” She asked brightly.

“Help yourself,” the man replied, busy with his newspaper.

“Anything good in the news?”

The man grunted.

“Yeah, lots of impatient people.”

“Aren’t they always?”

“They hoped for more by now.”

“Well, these things take a little while.”

“Hmm.”

“They could just do it themselves if they’re that bothered.”

The paper moved away from the man’s face.

“They’d rather leave it with us and then complain that we’re doing it wrong.” Lamb rolled his eyes, reaching for the other slice of Sid’s toast.

“That’s my lunch.” She pulled the plate towards her but it was too late, he’d already lifted it.

“Boo hoo.”

“I need a husband.”

“Sorry Sid, I’m just not the marrying kind.”

“You know what I mean. You gave me the stupid newlywed backstory, now I actually need to fulfill it. There’s a work event coming up - a weekend away - lots of bigwigs there, plenty of time to try and work out who the mole is.”

“And where, pray tell, is this weekend away?”

Sid blew the top of her coffee and looked around the cafe innocently.

“Venice.”

She noticed Lamb catch himself before raising his voice.

“Venice, Italy?”

“Are there any others?”

“Been a long time since I did Geography, Baker.” He sighed. “Let me get this straight, you expect her to sign off the expenses for a weekend in Venice for you and someone else?”

“If she wants to find out who the mole is, then yes. I also need some clothes, got to look the part.”

She hid her grin behind her mug.

“Great, I’ll tell Cartwright to dig out his tux.”

Her smile fell.

“What?”

“Well, unless you want to be temporarily married to Ho?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then Cartwright it is. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll look the part as you said.”

“It’s not the looks that worry me.” She frowned, “I just mean -”

“I don’t care what you meant. I’m sure he’ll survive. He’s got you to keep him on the straight an’ narrow hasn’t he?”

“You seriously expect me to pretend to be married to him for a whole weekend?”

“Sid, in case it has escaped you, you are a spy.” He lowered his voice, “I expect you to continue the undercover work you’ve been doing for the last month, and I expect you to work out who the mole is that’s selling defence secrets to foreign governments… got it?”

Sid nodded.

“Got it,” she mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Got it.” She said a little louder.

“Good. I’ll tell Cartwright to get packing.”

“He’ll need to meet up with me so I can give him an idea of who’s who. If he’s supposedly my husband then I’ll have been talking to him about them for the last few weeks. I also need his passport details.”

Lamb folded his newspaper and finished his coffee.

“Alright, alright. You already sound like his wife,” Lamb sniggered. At Sid’s glare, he raised his hands in defeat, “just a little joke. Go on, back to the office with ya, time to whack-a-mole.”

He tapped her on the head with the paper and then tucked it under his arm, whistling as he headed for the escalator.

~~~~~

Lamb’s return to the office was announced by the thumping on the floor of his office.

When River poked his head around the door, he was digging around in his desk drawers.

A small black box sailed through the air towards River’s head, his hand darted out to catch it.

“What’s this?”

“Congratulations,” Lamb muttered, opening another drawer.

River opened the box to find a simple gold wedding band.

“On?”

“Your wedding, idiot. I hear it was a lovely intimate affair. Just the two of you, then back home for a night of passion.” He gave River a withering look up and down. “Maybe not a whole night.”

“Oi!”

“You are getting on a bit now.”

“I’m 34.”

“Might as well start on the viagra then.”

Lamb pulled an envelope from the draw - victorious at last. “Passport, phone, credit card, cash. Don’t bankrupt us.”

“Where am I going?”

“Call the wife and ask her, she needs to get you up to speed anyway. Not sure she’s got a millenia to spare, but hey ho.”

“I don't have a wife?”

“Have you noticed anyone who seems to have taken temporary employment elsewhere?” He took River’s silence for a yes. “There you go then. Give her a call, number’s in the phone already. You are in love. You are happily married newlyweds. I don’t give a shit how you sell it, but make nice with her new work pals and find out who this sodding mole is before we find ourselves being bombed by one of the Koreas.”

“North.”

“Honestly, could be either of them. This mole has got our knickers down, we need to stop them. Now fuck off and call Baker.”

River took the envelope and made his way down to his office. The phone unlocked without a passcode and revealed a smiling photo of Sid as the wallpaper. He brought up the contacts list and hit the green button.

“Hi babe!” She cooed. He took the phone from his ear, and stared at it. “Can you hear me?”

He blinked at the phone. “Love? Can you hear me?”

Typical, he heard her say, I think he’s bum dialled me. She giggled. An alien sound that jolted him his stupor.

“Sid?”

“Oh! You can hear me, you ok babe?”

She did not sound like Sid. Not his Sid anyway, this was a bubbly, labrador version of Sid that he was having serious trouble picturing.

“Uhhh, yeah?”

“Great, did you get my text about Venice? I’m so excited!”

River coughed.

“You’re so right,” Said continued, covering for his absent side of the conversation, “we should go out for dinner tonight. Where do you fancy?”

“Uhhh -” he stuttered again.

“Côte? Barbican one? Can you book, I’m swamped here. 6 o’clock ok?”

“That’s… that’s fine.”

“Fab, see you later. Love you!” She rung off, leaving him staring at the phone. As he stared, a message came through and covered the Sid wallpaper.

Get it together you twat. I’m not being fake married to Ho.

Well. That was him told.

~~~~~

He was already there when she arrived.

Her stomach swooped as she crossed the room to him. He was reading the menu, his brow furrowed in decision mode.

“The beef cheek is beautiful here usually.” She told him, dropping her bag in the chair next to him.

“S’what I was going to have, actually.”

“Better make it two then. Red wine, or are you sticking with beer?” She gestured to his half drunk pint.

“Beer for me.”

“I’ll have a cocktail then,” she pulled up the menu and read through.

“How’s the new job?”

“Needs more gin,” she grimaced.

“Better than the other one, surely?” He asked.

“You’d be surprised. The grass, believe it or not, isn’t always greener.” She smiled at the waitress. “Two beef cheeks, another pint and a rose negroni please.”

“You didn’t witness the Shirley and Ho thumb war this afternoon. Riveting.”

“At least you don’t have to be nice all day every day.”

“That bad?”

“For people who work in something as dull as defence contracts, they’re very… smiley.” Her negroni arrived and she took a long, grateful sip. “Oh, that’s lovely.” She sighed.

River waited patiently.

“Right, I’ve been there a month. Trying to find… y’know,” she looked around at the dining room of full tables. “They’re a nice enough bunch, bit too happy for me. You’ve got Dilly and I who are reviewing all current contracts and handling the renewals. Diego and Jonty are like… sales, they’re trying to get new companies on board. Warwick is the head of the department I’m in, but he’s apparently in line for a move to Westminster at some point. Dilly would be up for his job then, she’s been angling for it for a while. Then there’s Angela and Kasim in accounts, that’s a bit of a hole at the moment. They keep the finances very close, I can barely catch sight of an invoice. Then we have Lilly, Pete and Hassan who are all like… they move around the office depending on where they need more help.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

“That’s why it’s taking a while to get what Lamb needs. I’m hoping the weekend away will be a chance to get to know them all away from work, get a bit of booze into them and see if they talk a bit more freely.”

“And they’ll all be bringing partners?”

“Yep, more names to try and remember.”

“And the weekend?”

“Every year they go away for a long weekend. They invite some government people as well, it’s a bit of a posh boys club where they can all get pissed and mingle. It’s pretty much how anyone moves further up into the company - or out of it and into government. It's basically just a piss up. This year, it’s about an hour outside of Venice. They’ve hired a small hotel - 25 rooms all taken by the company - and they put on an agenda of stuff to do.”

“Sounds nice, and Lamb decided you were married?”

“He gave me the background before we learned about Venice. I sprung it on him today. I thought…” She looked thoughtful. “I thought he’d get someone from the Park.”

“But you’ve ended up with me. I can do it, you know?”

“I’m sure you can, it’s just a lot of people. I’m the newest, and I’m supposedly only just married. It has to be convincing.”

“It will be. It can be.” He assured her as their food arrived.

She bit her lip and sighed.

“Ok,” she nodded. “Ok, let’s do it.”

After they’d eaten, she pulled her phone from her bag and read the agenda aloud.

“I had the official invite today. We fly out a week on Friday - gives us about ten days to get organised - and fly back on Monday. Friday night is a drinks reception and ‘get to know you’ thing, Saturday is a hike through the town, a stop off at the oldest Grappa distillery, and then a cooking class in the afternoon. Followed by a three course dinner at the hotel - that’s black tie, by the way - and ‘evening games’,” she pulled a face. “God, what does that mean? Then Sunday is a trip into Verona followed by an afternoon by the pool and then dinner. Monday is brunch and then off to the airport.”

“Plenty of time to get to know this lot,” he gestured to his napkin where he’d scribbled everyone’s name.

“Smile,” she requested, holding up her phone. She took a quick picture and set it as her phone wallpaper. “Dilly keeps asking to see a picture of you. I’ll try and get all of the partner’s names over the next couple of days. You could do some research on everyone?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“You also need to go shopping, make sure you have a decent suit.”

“I have a decent suit.”

“Do you, though? I mean a really nice one, River.”

“Relax, I’ve got a suit. Do you have everything you need?”

“There’s somewhere I usually hire evening dresses from. I’ll get a few.”

“So we’re all set then? Easy.”

“It’d be easier if Lamb had made me single.” She muttered.

“Good luck handling this lot alone, sweetheart,” he held the napkin up.

“Literally cannot believe I have to be married to you.”

“Til death do us part,” he grinned, wiggling his ring finger.

“That can certainly be arranged, babe.”

She signalled for another cocktail.

~~~~~

Sid slammed the door of the taxi behind her and dragged her case to the pavement. The airport looked daunting. More than twenty people inside were ready to party and mingle all weekend. She felt River's hand join with hers, interlocking their fingers.

“C'mon then, Mrs Masterson,” he frowned. “Sounds weird.”

“At least we kept our first names,” she agreed. “I need to make sure I don't call you Cartwright,” she panicked.

“It'll be fine. You're ready?”

“Ready,” she nodded. “Remember,” she hurried to keep up with him, “tactile but not like, gross PDA.”

“I know,” he looked back with a grin.

“Stick your tongue down my throat and I'll bite it off,” she warned.

“I know.”

“And I swear to god, try and touch me and I'll murder you River -”

“Sid, I know.”He told her firmly. “They're in the wine bar?”

She nodded, looking over his shoulder for the departure area. “Yeah but we might see some people before we get there, so it starts right now. The only time we drop the act is when we're totally alone, in private. Any other time, we have to assume that anyone could see us.” She sounded nervous, she knew she did. Her eyes flicked around the busy check in desks, the stairs towards security, on high alert for colleagues.

He took a step towards her, blocking most of her view.

“Breathe,” he said quietly, leaning down to talk in her ear. His lips brushed her earlobe. “We're going to be fine.” He promised.

“Sid?!” A loud voice cut through the noise of the crowds. “It is you!”

“Dilly,” she whispered just before River moved away.

“I'm River,” he turned to greet her, holding out his hand, “you must be Dilly? I've heard so much about you.”

Dilly beamed.

“I've hardly heard a thing about you other than you're gorgeous - and she was dead right about that! No wonder she kept you quiet!”

The smile on River's face didn't falter as Dilly talked a mile a minute.

“Ah, she's the gorgeous one,” he insisted, not missing a beat, putting an arm around Sid's shoulder.

“This is Tom, my boyfriend. Six years this year! Still no engagement,” she shook her head. Tom raised his hand, his half smile indicated that he was very used to Dilly making the ‘no engagement’ comment.

“Let's ditch these cases and get to the bar, start the weekend as we mean to go on.” Dilly breezed through them and towards the check in desk. “I'll need to stay half cut just to put up with Amber,” she muttered.

“Amber, Warwick's wife of eighteen years,” River muttered partly to himself, partly to Sid.

Sid soon realised that as long as she held River's hand and occasionally looked lovingly up at him, she could rely on Dilly to hold court.

Letting Dilly talk allowed her time and space to get used to the weight of River's hand in hers and helped her get used to being his ‘wife’.

The queue through security moved quickly, Sid dumped her bag and phone into one of the trays along with her fake wedding and engagement rings.

“Mrs Masterson?” River asked at the end of the conveyor, holding out her rings. Sid blushed and held out her hand.

“Thank you,” she murmured. A little further ahead, she could see Dilly watching them, enraptured. She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She hesitated for a second, suddenly unsure of herself, until his arm wrapped around her and pulled her in.

“Sell the first one, and they'll buy the rest,” he whispered quickly before kissing her firmly. Sid felt herself freeze in his arms but quickly remembered it was her face Dilly could see, not River's. She let her eyes flutter closed and leaned into him. It was a chaste, closed kiss, functional and nothing more. He broke it first, took her hand, and led her to Dilly and Tom who were getting their bearings.

“Still in the honeymoon stage then?” Dilly giggled at them.

“Oh look, there's the bar,” Sid ignored the comment and pointed hers and River's joined hands towards the wine bar.

“Yesss, I hope Warwick has put his credit card on the tab. I intend on camping out here till I have to run for the plane.” Dilly said gleefully.

“No, Dil. No running!” Tom sighed. “Had to leg it through Terminal 5 when we went to New York. They literally cheered when we got on the plane.” He looked pained.

River clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry mate, Sid’s an airport Queen. She's forever keeping me in check.”

He let go of her hand and put an arm around her, pulling her in close and placing a kiss on her hairline.

“She keeps me in check too,” Dilly grinned, “the best work bestie!”

“My first work bestie,” Sid forced a smile.

She felt River pinch her waist lightly and as Dilly turned toward the bar, he frowned.

“First work bestie?” He nudged her, “rude.”

“Idiot. C'mon, are you ready to meet the others?”

“A weekend with twenty odd strangers, can't wait.”

“Worst weekend of my life,” she grimaced.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “Look, we've not been married long, we can use that as an excuse to stick together, watch them. If there's a mole, they're going to struggle to be on form all weekend.”

“Being undercover is no different,” she reasoned.

“It's our job. Just… keep the lie going. Like you said, this is it now unless we're in private.”

“What're you drinking?” Tom asked from a few meters in front of them.

“Gin,” they responded in unison.

Sid felt River suck in a breath as they continued beyond the bar with their drinks in hand. Near the back of the room, their group was gathering, taking up multiple tables and filling the space with noise and laughter. On spotting Sid, a stocky man in his fifties with a well kept salt and pepper goatee split the crowd like the red sea to greet her.

“Sid Masterson! Our newest recruit.”

“Morning, Warwick.” He smiled widely, waving his hand to quieten the group.

“Guys, guys! You all know Sid?”

A chorus of voices and waves barrelled towards her and she felt herself take a small step closer to River. “This is -?”

“My uh,” she cleared her throat, “my husband, River.”

Warwick shook his hand vigorously, welcoming him warmly. Then he turned and began reeling off names.

“Hope you've got a memory as good as Sid's,” he winked. “Are you ready for this?” His laugh boomed. “Let's see if I can get it right! This here is my wife, Amber, then we have Diego and Stella, Jonty and Sam, Angela and Lucy, Kasim and Issy, Lilly and Dave, Pete and Deb, Hassan and Priya and finally, you already know Dilly and Tom.” He took a long drink. “That gets harder each year. I'll have to stop employing people!”

Everyone laughed politely. “We'll be joined later by a few others from outside the business, but I've kept the number nice and low.”

“Darling, twenty-five people is not a nice, low number,” Amber withered. Her blonde hair was curled, her tan perfect. She looked at least twenty years younger than Warwick. Behind Amber, Sid watched Dilly fake being sick. “Sid, it's lovely to meet you at last. Congratulations on the wedding! Just before you started the job, wasn't it?”

“Thank you,” Sid smiled serenely, “about a week before the job, I think it was.”

“I can't wait to hear about it, I do love a wedding!” She giggled, taping Sid's hand lightly. She continued on her way to make small talk with Jonty and Sam.

They stayed to one side of the group, she watched River as he observed them all, embedding the names into his brain. He looked down at her, catching her off guard.

“You're watching me.” He murmured.

“Just… appreciating my husband.”

She leaned into him, her arm sliding across his back.

“Overwhelming isn't it?” Tom declared. “So many people to remember. Don't worry, I still get it wrong!” Dilly joined him with a giggle.

“I'm pretty sure we used the first trip away as an excuse for a dirty weekend! That was about four years ago.” She nudged Tom with her elbow. “Remember that one?” She turned to Sid and River, “Athens. All we saw was the hotel room!” Her laughed pealed through the room. “So when you two skip dinner,” she wiggled her finger at them, “I'll know what you're up to!”

Sid blushed.

“Drink up, you lot, the gate is open,” Warwick called out, his authoritative voice was enough to encourage everyone towards the exit.

~~~~~

The view from the window was incredible.

Sid leaned over River who’d bagged the window seat.

“Shame we’re not going to Venice itself.” She whispered, looking down in awe at the maze of canals.

“Verona though, that’ll be good?”

“True, so romantic.” She sighed, thinking of Dilly and Tom being able to hear them in the row behind.

“Have you been to Venice before?” Dilly asked, peeping through the gap between the seats.

“No, you?”

“No, I tried to get Warwick to put it on the itinerary but he picked Verona instead,” she complained.

“Verona is supposed to be so underrated,” Warwick insisted from across the aisle. “Amber’s never been.”

Dilly arched her eyebrow at Sid. She’d made her feelings about Warwick’s wife dictating the itinerary very clear.

The plane turned again, exposing more of Venice beneath them.

“We’re going to the home of Grappa, I can’t wait!” Tom piped up. “I wonder how much I can fit in my case,” he winked at Dilly.

“Not that much, Tom.” She sighed, going back to her book.

“I'm going to need Grappa to survive this trip,” River whispered, tucking Sid's hair behind her ear.

“You and me both,” the afternoon sun filled the plane with a honey glow, highlighting flecks of gold within the blue of his eyes. Sid held her breath. Steeled herself. She wasn't sure she'd looked at him before, really looked at him. Staring openly at him was not something encouraged at Slough House and she couldn't remember ever sitting so closely that she could see every detail of his face.

The tinny sound of a cabin crew announcement startled her and she reluctantly looked away.

“Ladies and gentlemen we'll shortly be landing if you could take your seats and fasten your seat belts please.”

Without Sid mentioning it, River took her hand in his.

When the plane had taken off, she'd gripped the armrests so hard her knuckles went white. He'd offered his hand but she'd gritted her teeth and shook her head.

This time, he didn't ask.

She held it tightly while his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand.

She stared nervously out the window at the seemingly endless water, frantically wondering when solid ground would show up.

River twisted in his seat, blocking her view out of the window. She instead focused on the narrow weave of his t-shirt.

When the wheels met the ground with a thud, her eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Don't laugh at me,” she warned, her jaw still held taut.

“I'm not laughing,” he said quietly.

The plane slowed as they taxied to the gate, Sid felt herself relax and loosen her hold on River's hand.

He shook it, encouraging the circulation to return. “Tight grip,” he winced.

“Baby,” she stuck her tongue out.

Warwick hustled them through customs and baggage claim to a small coach with a chatty Italian driver.

Sid grabbed the window seat this time, with Dilly jumping in next to her.

“Leave the boys to chat,” she insisted, linking arms with Sid and pointing out of the window as they got further away from the city.

Sid looked around for River and found him a couple of rows back and across the aisle. Seeing Sid looking for him, he winked.

She felt her smile grow, wide and real.

He returned it.

“Holy shit!” Dilly hissed next to her, physically taking hold of Sid's face and turning it to the window.

She heard River laugh.

When she turned, she saw a glimpse of the villa as they arrived up the wide, sweeping driveway.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Sid it's beautiful,” Dilly squeaked in awe.

Sid was met with a breathtaking view of the countryside and the city in the distance. The hotel was a traditional villa, with stucco walls, terracotta roof tiles, and charming Juliet balconies overlooking the picturesque gardens with rows of ancient olive trees and a pool.

“Welcome home guys,” Warwick announced proudly.

A team of valets waited with trolleys to take the cases from the coach, Sid waited to take River's arm and followed the group into the luxurious reception.

Elegant and expansive, the polished travertine floors gave way to high ceilings painted blue and adorned with intricate carvings in soft golds and creams.

A mix of classic and modern furniture littered the space, with a grand desk for the reception staff.

The scent of fresh flowers and espresso floated through the air.

“I will never complain about my job again,” River swore.

Sid looked around, equally gobsmacked.

“This is… wow.”

She caught sight of Angela and Lucy, eyes like saucers as they looked around the room. The other couples were equally astonished, with the exception of Warwick and Amber who assisted the hotel manager as they identified each set of guests and paired them with a room key.

While they waited, a tray of champagne flutes made its way through the group.

“Go and freshen up, everyone. Drinks reception at 6pm sharp! You've got a couple of hours to explore.”

Sid found herself in no rush to move. She sought out River's hand and went to the huge doors which opened out onto the poolside. Around the pool were small tables with umbrellas dotted along the cobbled pathway. He wrapped an arm around her, looking out at the view of the surrounding hills and villages.

“Remind me to thank Lamb for this,” she sniggered, finishing her champagne. “In fact,” she put the glass down and pulled her phone from her bag. She opened the camera app and held out her arm to take a photo of them both. She held up the message to show River.

“He's saved as dad?”

“Well, I can't exactly put him in my phone as who he really is, can I?” She defended.

“Want to see our room?”

Her face lit up.

“Lead the way, Mr Masterson.”

She gratefully retrieved the key from Warwick and found the way through the wide atrium and up the elegant staircase.

River held the door open, letting Sid step into the luxurious bedroom.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the king sized bed, draped in soft white linens and framed by four towering wooden pillars.

The room exuded opulence, with the bed overlooking a huge window with a small balcony, open to show off the view over the pool and out towards the village.

In the bathroom, she discovered a deep roll-top bathtub and rainforest shower.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, dropping her handbag on the bed and looking around. “Have you ever been somewhere so fancy?” She laughed.

“This is insane,” he agreed.

She looked at the bed again, and then at River.

“There's only one.”

“Well, yeah. I kind of expected that.” He told her.

“You did?”

“Warwick thinks we're married, what did you think was going to happen?”

Sid sighed.

“Oh… yeah.”

The door knocked, interrupting her thoughts. River answered, opening the door wide to let the valet in with their cases and another tray of champagne.

“It's a big bed,” she reasoned once the valet had gone.

“Huge. Hope you don't snore?”

“Me?” She scoffed. “I will suffocate you in your sleep if you keep me awake, Cartwright.”

“I think you'll find that's Masterson. This weekend at least.” He grinned, handing her a glass of champagne.

“Hmm. We should get caught up on anything we've noticed before we go to this drinks thing.”

“Think we're safe to sit outside?” He asked, looking over the balcony to the pool below. He could see Diego and Stella already enjoying the sun, with Kasim and Pete carrying drinks out to meet them, with their partners following closely behind. “They won't hear us from down there.”

She sank into the lounger next to him.

“How'd you think it's going?”

“So far so good. The amount of booze Warwick is spilling is going to mean people are going to be very, very drunk.”

Sid frowned at her glass of champagne.

“Yeah we should probably…”

“Try and stay somewhat sober.” He finished.

“Exactly. We need to be able to think straight and pay attention. Have you noticed anything yet?”

“Dilly never stops talking, those three,” he nodded towards the pool at Diego, Kas and Pete, “are very pally -”

“With Jonty too, the four of them are really tight.”

“Any of them short of money? Stella sounds like she enjoys the high life.” He wondered aloud.

“You're thinking they're doing it for the money? Fund a lifestyle?”

“Why else would they do it?”

“If that's an angle then we need to consider Angela. Dilly said she and Lucy had paid thousands and thousands for IVF.”

“Warwick obviously likes to splash the cash a bit,” he gestured to their room. “Who hires a whole hotel for their workmates?”

“OK, so money would be a tricky one to use as a reason. They all have their own worries there.”

“I don't even think I've spoken to Hassan or Lilly yet.”

Sid frowned.

“Maybe we need to divide and conquer a bit this evening?” He nodded in agreement.

“I'll have to take some cues from you on being friendly,” he teased.

“Ugh don't,” she rubbed her cheeks, “my face hurts from smiling.”

“Tell you what, I'll go down and join that lot,” he gestured to the group downstairs, “you enjoy that huge bath or something.”

“Yeah?” She brightened.

“Yeah, have a break from them for a bit.”

He headed for the door, pushing the room key into his pocket.

“Thank you,” Sid said, taken aback. “I wasn't sure you'd be up to this but… I think we're doing OK.” He smiled shyly, closing the door behind him.

~~~~~

She lay back against the curve of the bath, surrounded by bubbles from a very expensive looking bottle on the counter.

After the champagne during the day, and the gin at the airport, she wanted to collect her thoughts and take stock of everything so far.

Goosebumps raised along her arms as the first thing that came to mind was River.

Sell the first one, and they'll buy the rest he'd said right before he'd kissed her.

She hoped they were doing a good job of selling it. She'd watched Dilly and Tom at the airport, planning to use them as a model of sorts. After six years together though, it was clear they weren't romantic enough to base her ‘new’ relationship with River on.

With no frame of reference in her own life, she was winging it.

She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her hand, comforted her during a flight, or tucked back her hair.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been kissed.

And now she was left knowing how River sighed right before he'd kissed her, the way he tasted, the size of his hand wrapped around hers.

She took a breath and tipped backwards, submerging herself in the deep bath.

Her eyes closed and she saw blue flecked with gold.

When she got out of the bath and opened the door, he was back sitting on the balcony.

“Feel better?”

She swallowed.

“Yup, bathroom's all yours.”

He took his suit on its hanger with him.

Sid shook off her nerves and settled at the vanity with her make up bag.

He emerged later, stubble trimmed with his tie loose around his collar. He'd timed perfectly with Sid finishing her hair. Still wrapped in the soft white robe, she took her dress to the bathroom to change.

The first dress she'd picked for the weekend (and she'd chosen a few), was a navy blue gown bejeweled with gold. It made her smile as she opened the long skirt to step into it. She pulled the spaghetti straps up her arms but couldn't untangle them on her back, nor could she work the zip.

“River? Can you come in here for a minute?”

“What's up?” He asked from the other side of the door.

“I need a bit of help with my dress. The zip is stuck and the straps are all messed up,” she huffed.

He knocked before joining her in the large bathroom. She held the front of the dress to her chest with one hand still trying to untangle the straps with her other, “I can't…” she stretched and twisted, she puffed her fringe off her forehead. “It's stuck,” she whined.

“Just stop,” he held up a hand, “stop moving a minute,” he laughed.

When she was finally still, he stood behind her and traced the line of each strap from her shoulder to the waist of her dress, untwisting and untangling them one at a time.

With each brush of his fingertips on her back, Sid shivered. When they were finally straightened out, he pulled the tiny zip from its starting point at the back of her thighs, to her waist.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

She fanned her hands, trying to cool herself down from getting worked up over the dress.

She eyed his crooked tie with a frown. “Let me just,” with her tongue held between her teeth in concentration, she undid the tie and remade it.

She smoothed her hands down the lapel of his jacket, scanning for stray threads and pieces of lint. “Very nice,” she said at last.

“Thanks,” He grinned. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Her blush crept down her neck, probably all the way to her toes, she decided.

She used him for balance to step into her shoes and stole a glance at his watch.

“Thank you, we need to get downstairs,” she handed him the room key and his phone, leaving her own hands free with no need for a bag or money.

She took one last look in the full length mirror by the door, side by side.

“Not bad, Cartwright.” She smiled.

He held out his arm for her to take.

“None of that, we can't fuck this up because you got pissed and called me Cartwright.”

“You're right, I can imagine what Lamb would say to that. Come on then, my lovely husband,” she stressed with a giggle. “Let's go and pretend we're not total dickheads with no friends.”

Sid and River descended the grand staircase together.

The smooth oak steps curved elegantly towards the expansive foyer, magnifying the sound of chatter and the clink of glasses from the open doors of the main hall, the soft glow of candlelight spilled out onto the stone floor.

Sid couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation as they prepared to enter the reception. The luxury and opulence of the surroundings made her feel a little giddy, she was excited to get her hands on her ‘colleagues’ outside of work to try and bring her undercover mission to an end. Working at Slough House, she hadn't had much opportunity to work in such beautiful surroundings, but she couldn't deny she missed the place, and its occupants.

The walls were adorned with intricate Italian artworks, the floors were made of gleaming hardwood, and the high ceiling was painted with the image of a beautiful blue sky.

They reached the grand foyer, where the rest of Sid's co-workers were mingling and chatting, glasses of wine in hand. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, it was clear that Warwick worked his team hard, and that this was their reward.

He'd spared no expense on hiring the whole hotel for their sole use. Everything screamed exclusivity. Warwick had gone all out, the elegant decor, the glittering lights, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses - all of it combined to create an atmosphere of unbridled extravagance and luxury.

"Oh you look beautiful!" Stella greeted them immediately. She and Diego looked straight off a designer runway. A picture perfect couple, they stood, as usual, with Jonty and Sam.

“Oh, this old thing!” Sid swished the skirt. “This is incredible,” she gestured to Stella's jumpsuit.

“Thanks,” she grinned, “my namesake, Stella McCartney. Yours?”

Sid froze. She wasn't even sure if her dress was designer, she'd just picked it out.

“She's got no idea,” River filled in, “I saw it and thought of her.”

“God, that's so fucking cute,” Stella farmed. “As if I could trust D to pick anything out for me!”

“I pick the swimwear,” Diego winked, reaching for Stella who blushed.

“Babe!” Dilly squealed from across the room, “you look lush!”

“Thanks Dil, you too.” Sid let out a laugh as she was embraced by Dilly, who looked like she was going to burst out of her pink taffeta dress at any moment. River couldn't help but smile at the sight, his eyes scanning the room for Warwick, who was nowhere to be seen.

As the drinks reception wore on, the smaller groups of people started to join into a much larger group, the room filling with the hum of loud conversation.

Everyone was eager to compliment each other's outfits and catch up with each other, as if they hadn't spent the whole day together already.

River and Sid found themselves chatting with different people, the room becoming almost stifling with the mix of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses.

River didn't leave Sid's side, his hand rested on her hip. He occasionally pulled her a little closer, and to the other unsuspecting guests, looked utterly in love with her.

Waiters brought around canapés and drinks galore, they were careful to give the impression that they were drinking as much as everyone else without actually doing so.

River reached out and picked a canapé from a passing waiter's tray, holding it out for Sid. He kept his eyes on her, a hint of affectionate playfulness in his gaze.

She tilted her head slightly to one side, only enough for him to notice, and narrowed her eyes at his suggestion.

He brought the canapé ever closer to her mouth, making it increasingly difficult for her to avoid. Finally, she had no choice but to open her mouth, and he gently placed the food inside.

As he placed the canapé against her lips, his thumb brushed against her lower lip, sending a shiver down her spine. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on them, nor on any potential observer.

Sid's heart pounded in her chest as she released his thumb with a slight pop.

"Do that again, and I'll bite you," she whispered, covering her threat with a smile.

River chuckled at her warning. He leaned closer, his voice a low whisper against her ear. "Be careful," he replied, "I might be into that.”

"Come on you two, everyone's dancing!" Amber called out. River and Sid both turned towards her voice, seeing her standing nearby with a glass of champagne in her hand. Her skintight gold gown made it seem as if she was actually covered in melted gold, a striking sight under the bright lights of the hotel lobby.

"Looks like we've been summoned," River murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Can't ignore the boss's wife," Sid agreed.

She allowed herself to be led to the dancefloor, a mix of excitement and trepidation running through her. The others were already dancing to the blaring music, the lobby had transformed into a make-shift dance floor.

The transition from soft classical music to Italian pop was surprising, and it appeared the shift had invigorated her colleagues, as they were now dancing with enthusiasm and energy. River looked down at Sid, his eyes gleaming, "Feeling up for some Italian pop, princess?”

As the songs played on, Sid found herself becoming increasingly more relaxed, her body moving naturally to the rhythm of the music. The beat was infectious and she couldn't help but get swept up in the energy of the crowd.

Sid couldn't help but notice as she danced, that River had moved to the side of the makeshift dance floor, standing amongst a small group of her male co-workers.

They appeared to have accepted the situation, resigned to letting their partners turn the hotel into a nightclub. He was in close conversation with Jonty, Diego and Hassan as they watched Sid dancing with Sam, Stella and Priya.

As the music shifted to a slower rhythm, Sam shed his suit jacket and with a grin, grabbed Jonty by the hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. The sudden movement took Jonty by surprise, but he couldn't help but laugh and follow Sam's lead.

Sid went to take her opportunity to stop dancing and made a beeline for River. As they met in the middle, he placed a possessive hand on her hip and pulled her in close, their bodies falling into a slow, intimate dance.

As they danced, River placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder, pulling her closer so he could speak into her ear. "Jonty's hiding something," he murmured, his voice low and almost lost amidst the music. Sid leaned closer, her ear almost touching his lips as she strained to catch his words.

Sid nodded in acknowledgment, her skin tingling as River's hand caressed the small of her bare back.

"Also haven't seen much of Warwick tonight," he continued.

"True," she agreed, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for Warwick, "he's been pretty much MIA.”

As their bodies moved in time with the music, Sid's fingers linked around River's neck, pulling them closer together. The closeness allowed the couple a rare moment to speak intimately, shielded from the chatter and dance of the crowd around them.

River lowered his head to speak to Sid, their bodies intertwined in the slow dance.

"We should try to get time with the others tomorrow, the ones we haven't spent much time with yet,” he suggested.

Their bodies swayed to the music, Sid responded in a hushed tone, "I'm going on a run with Angela and Lilly in the morning. That's another two off the list," she said, her fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles on the back of River's neck.

River chuckled at her declaration of a morning run. "Good," he agreed, "I'd rather watch than join you on that run." He gently teased her with a grin, his hand moving lower down her back, the touch a little less than gentlemanly.

She leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You're doing a very good job so far, I could almost believe that this is what 'boyfriend' River is like.”

River chuckled appreciatively, the warmth of her breath against his ear sending a shiver down his spine. "Keep up the sweet talk and I might start believing it myself," he quipped playfully, pulling her even closer as the song drew to a close.

Dilly and Tom stepped toward them, looking flushed and a bit out of breath from dancing.

"Nightcap?" Dilly asked, a wide smile on her face.

"Sure," Sid agreed instantly. The group had slowly started to disperse, and the night was now winding down.

The waiter circulated with the tray of grappa, and those still standing eagerly took a glass each. River looked at Tom and raised his glass.

"Distillery tomorrow," he reminded them of the group's planned visit.

Tom chimed in, agreeing wholeheartedly, "I think we'll need a bit of a sleep before the black-tie dinner tomorrow night. We're going to be sloshed.”

"I need sleep now," Dilly lay her head on Sid's shoulder and yawned, looking as though she could fall asleep on the spot.

"I'm with you," Sid added, stifling a yawn herself, "I need sleep too.”

River placed his empty glass down on a nearby table and turned his attention to Sid. "Come on, sleepy beauty," he teased affectionately. "Time to head back to the room.”

"Night babe, enjoy your run.” Dilly giggled as Tom pulled her to her feet.

"Goodnight, guys," Sid replied with a warm smile, giving Dilly a fond kiss on the cheek.

River, ever the helpful partner, wrapped an arm around Sid's waist as they prepared to head back to their room.

Once back in their room, Sid shed her shoes and began the frustrating search to find the zip on the back of her dress. She twisted and contorted, trying to reach the fastening.

While she struggled, River appeared behind her, gently brushing her hands aside as he took over the task.

The zip slid down effortlessly, and he then leaned in as if to place a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. He stopped himself at the last moment, remembering that they were alone, the act could be dropped. "Sorted," he murmured, catching her eye in their shared reflection.

"Thanks," she said, hushed.

"You're welcome," he replied quietly, watching her as she held the dress to her body and headed into the bathroom to change.

As they took turns in using the bathroom to change for the night, Sid took advantage of the moment and arranged a wall of pillows in the center of the bed, creating a physical barrier between their sides.

When River emerged from the bathroom, he noticed the pillow wall and raised an eyebrow at Sid.

"Seriously?" he questioned, a playful grin on his face.��

Sid responded with a casual shrug.

"Just being prepared. You could be a snuggler for all I know.”

“Hmm, you never know.”

"I think we're getting somewhere. It's going pretty well so far."

In the dark, surrounded by silence, Sid's whisper hung in the air, her voice tinged with both relief and optimism.

"Are we?" River asked, his voice a soft murmur. He reached out and found her hand, their fingers intertwining. "I think you're really good at this," he said quietly, his tone betraying a glimmer of satisfaction and something more.

"Goodnight River," Sid's reply came softly through the darkness.

"Goodnight Sid," River echoed, his hand still holding hers.

In the quiet solitude of the hotel room, they both lay silently, they held onto each other's hands, even as the night slowly crept in and claimed them both in the embrace of slumber.

CHAPTER 2

#river cartwright #slow horses #jack lowden #river cartwright x sid baker #river x sid #sid baker #slow horses fanfic

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captainsophiestark · 9 months ago

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End of the Line

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: Anakin and his SO have a chaotic date night - and really, when dating Anakin, what other kind could there be?

Word Count: 1,051

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

A beam of light whizzed over my head from where I hunkered behind cover, almost nailing me right in the forehead. I grit my teeth and readied my weapon. That marked my opponent's tenth shot, meaning he'd need to let his gun recharge before he could fire again. Time to make my move.

"Alright, that's it! Your bloodline ends here!" I shouted at the top of my lungs before popping up from my cover behind the couch. I saw a flash of shaggy brown hair as my boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker, scrambled for cover of his own across the living room.

I raised my light gun—a blaster that literally just fired light, usually used by children for tag games but tonight employed by Anakin and I—and raced across the room after him.

I fired the entire time I ran, keeping Anakin from popping up his head. It left me with just one shot by the time I got to him, but one shot was all I needed.

I rounded the corner of my favorite cushy chair and fired at my boyfriend, right on target to hit him square in the chest. That is, until my light beam stopped in mid-air.

My eyes darted up to Anakin's to find him grinning, one hand extended the way he did sometimes to use the Force and the other still holding his newly-recharged blaster. I narrowed my eyes, but before I could say anything, he fired a shot of his own that hit me in the chest.

"You cheater!" I yelled, ignoring the explosion of light still glowing against my shirt. Anakin rolled to the side and dropped his hand, letting what would've been the perfect shot streak past him and into the far wall of our apartment. I scowled.

"You never said no Force," Anakin replied, getting to his feet with an entirely too satisfied smirk. He offered a hand to me, but I didn't take it.

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure I specifically said 'No Jedi bullshit' right before we started this thing."

Anakin grinned at me as I got to my feet and faced him.

"Exactly. No Jedi bullshit. Lots of people have a connection to and use the Force."

I closed my eyes and took a long, deep, dramatic breath. When I opened them again, Anaking was still watching me with a self-satisfied smirk.

"You've been spending too much time with politicans, trying to sell me on a loophole like that."

"As opposed to bounty hunters?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "You and I both know that's not what I do."

"I know. It's just fun to watch your face scrunch up."

I reached out and hit Anakin in the chest, but my heart wasn't in it. We'd first met because I'd been at the top of my class with the GAR, before they'd switched primarily to clones, and the Jedi had needed an extra, well-trained hand on short notice. Now, I basically worked as a contractor for the Republic. I'd continued to help the Jedi regularly, especially, and I'd gotten close with many of them. But Anakin more than anyone else.

"So. Rematch?" Anakin asked, raising an eyebrow and holding his light blaster up. I smiled.

"As much fun as it would be to beat you in a No-Force rematch-" Anakin scoffed and raised an eyebrow, but I just ignored him. "-we already spend too much of our time around blasters. How about we order some of our favorite foods and find a good holo to watch?"

Anakin smiled, soft and genuine, and let the hand with his blaster fall back to his side.

"Yeah. I guess we can-"

He got cut short when I brought my hand up as fast as lightning, my recharged blaster now ready to go. I levelled it at his chest, pausing just long enough to give him a grin and register the absolute shock on his face before pulling the trigger.

A bright light exploded across Anakin's chest, making the front half of his shirt about five shades lighter. I cackled.

"Ha, now we're even! Call that a tie and let's get some pizza."

Anakin shook his head at me, but he was grinning all the same.

"You're ruthless. And that was incredibly sneaky of you."

I just gave him a wink.

"You know you love it, Skywalker. It's why you love me."

He snorted, but came close enough to wrap his arms around me and pull me into this chest, too.

"I do love you. Sneaky cheater in competition and all."

"Aww, babe."

Anakin and I shared a laugh and a smile before leaning into a soft, sweet kiss. Since he was a Jedi, we couldn't just do stuff like this whenever and wherever we wanted. Which meant I knew not to take a single moment alone with him for granted.

"So, now that my title's been defended, do you want to follow through on that pizza and some holos?" I asked.

"We could do that. Or..."

"Or?"

Anakin grinned, a familiar troublemaker spark in his eye that I loved. I grinned right back.

"Instead of holos or a rematch, we could team up to go wreak some havoic on Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. Play a few rounds absolutely destroying them, and then disappear somewhere nice together where they can't find us."

"I like the way you think, Skywalker. Do the Jedi or the Force or whatever say anything about soulmates?"

"I don't think so... Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure you're mine. Get your blaster ready and let's go have some fun."

I started to head for the door, but Ani's strong arm around my waist pulled me quickly back into a searing kiss. I let my free hand come up to tangle in his hair and kissed him back, hard, until we were both finally forced to come up for air.

"Okay," Anakin said, slightly breathless and with a smile on his face. "Now we can go wreak some havoic."

I laughed as I took Anakin's hand, a little giddy as I pulled him towards the oor. We really made the perfect pair, to the occasional detriment of our friends, whether or not they actually knew we were a pair. Hopefully, we could get through this war together, and find our way to a happy ending on the other side.

And until then, we'd just find as many happy moments together like this as we could.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

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joelsgirl · 2 years ago

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Love Thy Neighbor Pt. 1

Muse: Joel Miller Word Count: 2k Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, grief, parental loss, fluff, No Use of Y/N A/N: Set pre-outbreak, maybe a year or two before. Ambiguous timeline. A Gift For: @dreamsofmandalore - A little SJ for you. Thank you for being you. Happy Birthday, darling. + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here!

The night should have been warm, beautiful, almost balmy. It was only the start of fall, things shouldn't have shifted so fast, yet no matter what you do, you can't seem to stop the chill, like it was deep in your bones, freezing you from the inside. Glancing around, you wonder if others can feel it too.

Everyone else seems to be fine, having a great time. The block party was being run by your best friend's mom. She and Lisa lived in the house down the end of your street. Her yard backed onto rolling hills, marking the edge of suburbia. This wasn't your scene, you weren't ever into parties, more of a homebody, really.

Even at college, you preferred late nights, the scent of dusty old books and the dim light of the libraries lamps. It's been six months since you graduated college, and it should have been the time of your life - out exploring the world, getting that high paying job you'd worked so hard for, living to the fullest, or whatever that means...

Losing your dad wasn't something on the cards. He was your best friend, the only family you had left... but fate was a cruel mistress. Moving back home after graduation was easy, sorting out the house and putting him to rest... was another thing entirely. Lisa had become your lifeline through it all... and though a season had passed, it wasn't any easier.

The din of the party was getting to you, the noise all too overwhelming. You were here for Lisa, wanting to enjoy the night as much as she was... but couldn't handle yet another concerned neighbor asking you how you were coping. Strolling down the back of her yard, your fingers trailing over the solid wooden posts of her fence until they reach the latch to the back gate. A quick check over your shoulder to make sure no one has noticed you before you slip out.

There's a small, narrow path that opens into a clearing. It takes you a minute to scan the canopy line before you find the treehouse your dad built for you and Lisa when you were kids. It's all so overgrown now but the steps to the ladder are still nailed into the large trunk. Testing the lowest one out with the toe of your ballet slippers, you climb up into the large space. He was a builder, a freelance contractor and this place had been your safe haven for so many years.

You hadn't visited in a while, but the interior was spotless. The walls painted a now faded burgundy, the window seat and sofa inside still clean and fresh. Lisa had mentioned coming by recently to tidy it up but she'd added some more knickknacks. This space had always felt like home, like a private solace, protecting you from the cruelty of the world below.

There was a desk against the far wall, a cupboard with books and a small coffee table in the center. Your dad had managed to hoist them up and set them inside. Climbing onto the soft cushion of the window seat, your back against the wall as you survey the clearing. Everything looks so small from this height, so insignificant.

The dark silhouette of another appears just below, so quiet you hadn't heard him coming... but you knew who it was, would recognize him anywhere. Your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him, idly wondering how he knew where to find you. "Hey..." His voice was low, sensual even from down there... at least to you. You bite back the grin wanting to take over as you nod to him, "Hey, yourself."

Joel had moved in to the house next door right around the time you graduated college. He had the stoic, single dad routine down pat; he was also kind, charming and seriously good looking. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but all he cared about was Sarah. His beautiful daughter, ten years old and sharp as a tack. She kept them both on their toes, that was for sure. Joel was a builder, just like her dad. Long hours and hard labour to provide the kind of like he thought she deserved. His brother Tommy would drop in on occasion, the genes ran in the family there... But Joel, he was something else.

"Mind if I come up?" You sit a little straighter, wishing there was a mirror nearby to check your reflection or something... "Sure!" He'd never been here before, but he knew about it. You told him when you were reminiscing about your dad shortly after... everything happened. Pulling yourself up from the window seat, you move to lift the latch, tugging open the trap door and helping him to pull himself up into the treehouse. "How'd you know I was here?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Was watching you." There was something in his eyes. So dark, chocolate had nothing on them. So deep as he drank in the sight of you. That concern dancing behind his gaze melted you, the warmth in his tone something new, something you'd started picking up on more and more of late. "Saw you slip out the back... No one else noticed." He was standing so close, you could see the gold flecks and caramel highlights in those eyes from the fading glow of the sun's rays. "Oh?" You were normally such a conversationalist, but there was something so intense about him, you were suddenly lost for words.

"Yeah, you looked like you could use a friend. Didn't want you alone out here." He paused for a moment, his words sinking in before he broke that connection, shifting his focus to the treehouse. There was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as his hands slipped into his pockets, his leather jacket tightening around the thick muscle of his biceps. The black cotton shirt beneath it draped perfectly off the broad expanse of his chest, his black jeans almost faded. He walked around the room, eyeing off everything in the room before settling against the edge of the desk. "I see why you like it here so much."

There was something so surreal about having him here. He almost didn't belong. He towered over you, even like this. His body exuding nothing but strength and power as he filled the small space. Barely large enough for two little girls once upon a time, let alone him... The truth was, you'd been noticing the change in him because it mirrored the one in you. Thoughts of him always lingering in the back of your mind, afraid to look at them too closely.

"What are you really doing here?" Surprised he'd left the party, even though he hadn't brought Sarah with him this time. "I meant what I said; didn't want you alone out here." His voice was low, sweet like honey. It was one of your favorite things about him, the sound filling the space, tickling your skin as you bite back a smile. Your heart doing that thing it always does whenever he was involved; fritzing out as it fought to maintain some kind of regular rhythm.

You edge a little closer, half a step, then another. As if testing the waters. He knew it, too, a slight jerk of his head telling you to keep going until you were just within reach of him. A hand reaches out lazily, fingers hooking in the waistline of your mini skirt. Tugging you the rest of the way, until you were standing between his outstretch legs. Even though he's perched on the edge of the desk, he's still so much taller than you. His body so big, you wonder how it would feel to get lost in it. To have him wrap those arms around you and hold you until all your worries melt away. The rest of the world, too.

His hands slide down your sides, settling on your waist as he holds you tightly. Your cheeks feel warm, a soft flush coloring them as tingles rush down your spine. "Been thinking about this for a while..." God, that voice. He could bring a civilization down to it's knees with that thing. At least, he could, you. "Thinking about what, exactly?" You can barely get your words out, the sound a soft murmur as your breath catches... The way he's looking at you right now, the world really was melting around you. Nothing else mattered but him. Right there. If only you could freeze that moment...

His eyes flicker to your lips, to the way you're biting the lower one. The usually stoic façade gone, replaced by a hunger you'd never noticed before. One hand leaves your waist to cup your face. Thumb locking on your jaw as strong fingers grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he dips his head, his lips finding yours in a hard kiss. Your palms find his chest, pressing against them as you deepen the kiss.

Your mind flashing to all those late nights at home, crying as you try to pick up the pieces of your life, only to look up and find Joel right there with you. Holding you, helping you, a support like no other. He'd always been right by your side, had been the one for you long before you were willing to admit it to yourself...

All the unspoken emotion pouring out between you as the hand still resting on your waist tightens its grip, pulling you harder against him, as if letting you go would mean losing you and he couldn't possibly bare the thought of it. It felt like an eternity and a single moment all at once when he finally broke away. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking in your eyes once again, his thumb brushing your lower lip as a smile tugged at his own. "This, right here... you... I can't get you out of my head."

You open your mouth to say something when his phone goes off, the buzz in his pocket pulling him away. The apologetic look on his face as he tugs it out entirely unnecessary, he hated the damn thing, kept it for two reasons. Sarah and Tommy. "It's okay," you say as soon as he puts it away, knowing real life was calling him away...

"It's Sarah, there's a crisis at home, something about a missing textbook and needing to finish her homework. Honestly couldn't tell you where she gets those brains from." The sheepish smile was back on those perfect lips and you can't help but ball his shirt in a small fist as you tug him back down for another kiss. A short one, but enough to tell him you're not going anywhere. You walk down together, away from the party, a shortcut to the main road leading you both back to your driveway. He lives next door, but your house is first and he takes a moment to step away... those perfect eyes lingering on you.

"Can I call you, later tonight?" The smile on your face the only answer he needs as he nods, watching until you're safely up the driveway and inside your house before making his way to his girl. You pause, your back leaning against the door as your fingers lift to press idly against your lips, thinking about the way he kissed you, about him... Fishing your phone out of your pocket and clutching it to your chest as you make your way upstairs, counting down the minutes until you could hear that voice again...

TAG LIST: @dreamsofmandalore @devilmademewriteit @devilmademepostit @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedro-pedrito-pascalito >>> If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other fics, please let me know!

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou fic #my writing #my writing x joel miller #love thy neighbor

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dolphinlinemarking · 2 years ago

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The Facts About High Performance Roadway Marking Services.

The advancement of today's roadway markings.

With ever before increasing quantities of road traffic and the need to enhance security, freeway line markings probably provide the most significant influence to the road user in all its various kinds for direction assistance as well as information on the move, especially at night. It is less than one hundred years ago that the very first roadway markings were acknowledged officially as a help to movement on the freeway.

The original white line was a hand painted line marking Sydney and it wasn't up until the early 1940's that screeded polycarbonate was utilized, due to the scarcity of fuel based solvent for paint.

For years polycarbonate has been the remedy for the roadway noting market in the UK with its family member convenience of application in most conditions for one year of the year.

Till the late 1990's thermoplastic roadway noting products were defined to fulfill a dish of ingredients and also application density in tender documents. In the case of retro-reflectivity efficiency, this was satisfied by the percentage as well as sort of glass grains within the mix and also originally applied to the surface of the new noting.

However, its lack of ability to retain the surface area used glass grains and also dependancy on lorry wheel-overs to subject the glass grains held within the product has in some situations caused the item falling short to supply adequate retro-reflectivity efficiency during the night.

Nonetheless, regardless of the special use of thermoplastic in the U.K. for roadway markings repaint remained the number one selection for around 70% of the globes highway markings market because of its high performance in luminance and also retro-reflectivity.

The effect of adjustment to Performance Criteria.

A consistent decline in the requirement of products made use of and also road marking services craftsmanship through the late 1970's and also 1980's transpired through boosted competitors, lack of financial investment in worker training as well as main federal governments focus to decrease neighborhood authority expenses that led ultimately to manufacturer as well as contractor price cuts. It is thought that roadway marking expense in 2006 has not considerably increased given that this earlier duration.

The intro of European Standard EN 1436 in 1997 implied an end for the BS3262 dish spec. This change has actually meant that engineers can pick and also define a standard of efficiency they need for their highway noting solution.

It is recommended that the road marking solution sector, overall, was not appropriately planned for this adjustment.

The launch of BSEN 1436 resulted in the development of a number of items with enhanced efficiency attributes that make them appropriate for consideration in the UK.

For More Information

Two certain areas of growth have been Waterborne Acrylic Paints and also a two-component resin based system, Methyl-Methacrylate (MIXED MARTIAL ARTS), both have high performance qualities.

In particular a new generation of boosted resins have made it possible for Waterborne Acrylic Paints producers to improve drying out time, toughness, high luminosity and retro-reflectivity and much safer operator handling. Integrated with a speed of application, the item becomes more appropriate for road marking upkeep with enhanced health and wellness benefits.

HyperLine utilized as a Maintenance Therapy.

As stated formerly Paint has actually been utilized for highway markings successfully in Europe and also other countries for several years with impressive retro-reflectivity outcomes.

5 years back, a West Nation based road marking services business identified a requirement for using Waterborne Polymer Paint (HyperLine) on UK roads throughout discussions with Term Upkeep Professionals and Service Providers. Various stretches of highway markings were re-sprayed with the item on a variety of various types of roadway and also the aesthetic influence went over. The results showed performance degrees of retro- reflectivity much more than equivalent polycarbonate line marking contractors.

Further development of item formulation and also the acquisition of a purpose-built, vehicle placed high-speed applicator; has actually given boosted performance both in sturdiness as well as retro- reflectivity together with performance 5 times higher than with standard sprayed thermoplastic techniques. Clients have started to see the benefits as well as benefits of the system validate its consideration as a choice for the maintenance of existing centre and also edge line road markings.

#line marking contractors

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years ago

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Kiss it better

An: Here is my entry for @flordeamatista's Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge. I chose the song ‘Kiss it better’. Love you Alice! Enjoy some angst, smut and action with our bad boy.

Beta’d by the American disaster, @yarnforbrains

Master list

Relationship: Nick Fowler x Morally grey private contractor Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

CW: alcohol consumption, violence (knives and guns), angst, smut (oral - m receiving, unprotected sex - don’t do this) star-crossed lovers, feels, Nick talking a bit of Romanian. (înger means angel)

You weren’t surprised when you ran into Nick. Given the line of work you were both in, it was inevitable that you’d cross paths now and again.

You’d both spotted each other at about the same time, and he raised his champagne glass in salute at you from across the ballroom, flashing you a wry smile. You tilted your head in a small nod in return, before returning to the conversation you’d been having with your mark. You chatted; you flirted, and you simpered, putting out the air of a vacuous party girl, only concerned with dresses and jewellery.

You felt you were getting there, turning the older millionaire in front of you into putty in your soft, manicured hands, when suddenly you were snagged by your arm.

“Please excuse the interruption, but I haven’t seen this lovely lady in quite a while, and we have lots to catch up on.”

The pretty speech was aimed at your companion, and before you could open your mouth to protest, you found yourself whirled onto the dance floor in the arms of the man you hated to love and loved to hate.

“Rude, Nick.” You pouted at him as you looked up into his artic eyes. You took in the subtle changes since you’d seen him last: another small scar on his left temple - no doubt a souvenir from some kind of fight - a few more grey hairs here and there, and a deepening of the scowl line across his forehead. “I had that guy just where I wanted him, and now he probably thinks I’m going to throw him over for you.”

Your heart and your stomach lurched, and it had nothing to do with how he was gracefully leading you around the floor and everything to do with the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“You mean you’re not, sweetheart? I thought you’d at least try it on with me, especially after last time.”

“What can I say, Nicky. Sorry, not sorry. It was just business, nothing personal.”

He pulled you closer, lowering his head and whispering directly into your ear - anyone watching would take the gesture as romantic.

“You cost me a lot that day, înger. Not just money either. It was the connections too. So let’s just say that any loss you make today is just a rebalance of the scales.”

He artfully twirled you away and then brought you back into the sturdy enclosure of his arms. You weren’t going to escape him or get your way through brute force, but you had your cunning and, while you didn’t want to hurt him physically, if push came to shove, you had your handy stiletto strapped to your thigh under your Versace gown.

However, now you were being held by him, your body recognised a certain safety, so you slid your arms up around his neck, your fingers delicately teasing the ends of his dark brown hair. His hands came down lower on your back, almost sweeping the top swell of your ass, pulling your hips flush against his. You reacted instantly.

“Is this your way of saying you want me to make it up to you?” You rubbed the side of your nose against his jaw, his trimmed stubble biting in a way that made you want to salivate.

Why the two of you had never properly teamed up, you didn’t know. You’d be formidable if you did, but it was probably because both of you had trust issues. It was a shame really. Both of you were ambitious, driven, intelligent, and fast on your feet - figuratively and literally. Then there was the chemistry. Neither of you could deny the pull between you, like opposite poles of a magnet, constantly being drawn together.

Sex with Nick was something entirely mind blowing. He managed to perfectly toe that line between being rough and dominating enough to excite you, but not so far it made you rail against it. You were independent; no simpering miss waiting for a ‘Daddy’ or a ‘Sir’ to make you feel loved and cherished. You knew what you wanted and when you saw it, you took it. And despite it being a very bad idea, your mind and your body wanted Nick again as soon as you’d locked eyes with him earlier. You had to promise yourself that this would be the very last time you succumbed to his charms.

You rotated your hips and scraped your teeth down the column of his throat, pleased when you saw his reaction - a narrowing of his eyes and an almost inaudible grunt that no-one but you would pick up on.

“Come on, Nicky-baby. Let me say sorry. You can put your pride aside for that, can’t you? Let me kiss it better.”

When he came to a sudden halt on the edge of the dance floor, you knew you’d pushed him too far, too fast. He unwound your arms from around his neck and stepped back, looking down at you with his nostrils flaring in frustration.

“Nice try, înger. Despite how tempting your offer is, we both know it would be a bad idea.”

Time to go for broke. You smiled at him, coyly and tried to close the distance between the pair of you once more.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you agreed to a bad idea. One last time, whaddya say?”

He snorted then, in derisive amusement and taking hold of both humour wrists in one of his hands, stroked the knuckles of the other down the smooth skin of your cheek.

“Are you that desperate for my cock? Your hungry little cunt not satisfied by anyone else? How very sad for you.”

You felt the heat of embarrassment suffuse your neck and face and pulled your arms from his grip with a sudden jerk. Now you remembered why sometimes you couldn’t stand him.

“Fuck you, Nick!”

“You wish, sweetheart. You wish.”

You spun on your heel and stalked towards the bar, deciding you needed a drink to wash the bad taste of that conversation from your mouth. Fuck Nick and the helicopter he flew in on.

A martini and a half later and you were feeling decidedly more calm. You planned to finish this drink and then see if you could recoup lost ground with your mark from earlier. Part of you wondered why Nick was at this gathering, but given the mixture of folk in attendance, it could be anything from corporate espionage to arms dealing. Everyone here was in pursuit of power and money at all costs. You and Nick were no different than the rest of them.

The problem with a group like this, though, was that it only took one idiot with a short fuse, and an even shorter dick, to turn it into a shit show.

Across the room, you became aware of Nick being in deep conversation with some other men that made even someone as hard as you shiver in distaste. Yes, you were ruthless, but even you had morals - certain enterprises that you would not entertain even as a means to an end.

The conversation turned heated, voices rising to a level where they could be heard above the band. You slipped away from the bar, drink abandoned, instinct driving you to see if you could assist Nick and lower tensions. You were charismatic and had a way with people, especially certain men who could be manipulated by a melodic laugh, a flash of cleavage, and the insinuation of a good time to come.

“Nicky. Gentlemen. Everything alright over here?” They fell silent at your interruption, but none of them took their eyes from each other. You stifled the urge to sigh. Men and their need to dominate one another.

“It’s all good, înger. You run along now.” Nick’s voice was tense, and you guessed that the man he was staring at was the leader of the group. Unfortunately, you were standing closer to him than any of the others, and with the protection of his men around him, he felt confident enough to drag his eyes from Nick and run his gaze over you. His interest made you feel nauseous, but you kept your vapid smile on your face.

“I think she should stay, Nicky. It’s always a good idea to improve the view.” He took hold of your arm and hooked it through his, pulling you close, half in front of him, his free hand poking into the small of your back. No, not his hand. His gun. With only Nick able to see your face now, you rolled your eyes. This idiot had signed his own death warrant, and didn’t even know it yet. And he kept on talking.

“Let’s take this party outside, shall we? Continue our discussions in private. I’m sure I can persuade you to see my point of view, Nicky.”

Your hand inched down leg, to the thigh-high slit in your dress, and you watched the tiny twitch of Nick’s own hands, desperate to be holding a firearm and taking out these bozos. You turned your head to look up at the man holding you, putting on your most doe-like expression.

“But I don’t want to go outside. It’s cold. And the party's here.”

He gave you a rough shake.

‘Shut your mouth. You obviously mean something to my friend here, so I need you to help me keep him in line.”

With as much honey dripping from your mouth as possible you delivered your coup de grace.

“But how are you gonna keep me in line?”

For a second he was speechless, processing what you’d said, but before he could make any retort he jerked as your blade pierced his side, sinking into his flesh with hardly any resistance. He let out a grunt and his gun clattered to the floor.

There was a moment’s silence before all hell broke loose.

You dropped down, out of his slackening hold, scooping up the firearm with your free hand as you jerked the knife from his body. He collapsed, blood pouring from the wound and splattering your dress.

Then the gunshots started.

Whether Nick started shooting first or the goons, you didn’t know or care, but the ballroom was filled with screaming, and the smell of gunpowder mixed with blood. Nick grabbed your hand and pulled you up and behind him, shielding you as he reversed you both out of the chaos, returning fire against the four men shooting at the pair of you.

You plastered yourself to his back, the pilfered gun in your left hand, firing around his body. Nick jerked, letting out a stifled shout and you glanced with him, seeing the darkening of his suit jacket fabric on his right upper arm. It didn’t slow him down though.

Reaching the doorway, you turned and bolted through it along the corridor towards the exit. The pair of you burst out into the chill of the night, passed the startled valet’s having a secret smoke, and towards the rows of parked cars.

Keeping low with Nick covering you, you tried the handles, finally finding one that the low paid teens hadn’t locked properly. Carefully, you slid into the passenger side, then moved across the centre and into the driver’s seat. Nick followed you in, closing the door quickly to extinguish the overhead light.

“Why the hell are you in the driver’s seat?” His whisper was harsh as your hands worked their magic with the wires under the steering column.

“Just keep an eye out, okay, Nick? Let’s play to our strengths here and not gender roles. I’m better at hotwiring, and you’re better at shooting. Also, I’m not bleeding. Therefore, I drive; you clear a path. Oh, and put your seatbelt on.”

From the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head and heard him chuckle, and you couldn’t hold back your smile. However, your concentration returned to the job at hand as the engine of the car roared into life. You heard shouting as the men chasing you suddenly identified where you were.

“Hold on!” You threw the car into reverse, the spinning wheels kicking up gravel as you manoeuvred the car out of its space. A loud bang, followed by a ‘thunk’ let you know your escape vehicle was now being shot at, and the pair of you ducked your heads as you moved the shifter into drive. In a shower of glass, the rear windshield was gone, but that just allowed Nick to turn in his seat and shoot back as you flattened the accelerator, and the car screamed down the driveway. You exited onto a narrow, country road. You had no choice but to turn on the head lamps, because without them you were likely to end up upside down, in a ditch, on fire.

For a minute or two it was quiet, the only sounds were those of the engine and your and Nick’s breathing.

“We need to turn off this road. Might be being followed.” His voice was strained, probably due to the shot he’d taken.

“I know a place nearby.”

He grunted and went silent again. Then a minute later, “Did you have to kill him?”

You chuckled. “You know me, Nick. He pissed me off. Underestimated me, and he only got to do that once. No second chances. Besides, he was annoying you. Only I’m allowed to do that.”

Another grunt, but you could tell it was one made with a smile, albeit a pained one.

The car hugged the road surface, and you drove along at breakneck speed, only slowing down just before you returned off, not wanting to leave obvious treadmarks leading onto the dirt track.

You pulled up outside a small cabin and killed the lights and engine. Knowing Nick was capable of getting out of the car himself, you strode straight to the front door, turning the handle and giving it a shoulder barge in just the right place to pop the ineffective lock.

It was a rustic place, and you grabbed hold of the oil lamp and matches, quickly illuminating your immediate surroundings with a soft glow. The door clicked, letting you know that Nick had joined you.

“Get that jacket and shirt off, big boy. Let’s see how big your new scar is going to be.”

You moved off toward the back of the cabin, searching for the first aid kit and the half bottle of vodka. When you came back, Nick was standing where you left him.

“Swallow your pride, Nicky. Sit and strip.” You inclined your head to the rickety chair next to an equally dilapidated looking dining table, and finally he complied, but not without a deep sigh. He hissed in pain as he took off his suit jacket, and even in the low light it was impossible to hide the amount of blood on his dress shirt underneath. It was obvious his adrenaline was dropping with how sluggish his movements were getting, and after watching him fumble one handed with his shirt buttons, you came to his rescue, freeing them all in a matter of seconds. You helped him shed the ruined fabric and tried not to let your gaze linger on his chest.

Passing him the vodka bottle, he took a hearty swig before sloshing some over his wound. Taking the bottle from him, you gave him the lantern to hold instead.

“Hold it steady - I need to see what I’m doing here. I was never any good at embroidery at school.”

You did your best not to listen to the small sounds of pain he let out as you cleaned away the blood and shirt fibres from the wound.

“You’re lucky, Nick. Just a deep gouge where the bullet grazed you. Good job those guys couldn’t shoot for shit.”

“Stop yapping and get on with it. I wanna go to sleep and try to forget that this evening ever happened.”

“Well excuse me, Mr Grumpy Pants!”

You didn’t take his attitude to heart - you knew he was cross with himself for how the evening had gone down and for letting himself get hurt.

Having made sure you’d done the best cleaning job possible, you threaded the needle, heated it in the flame of the lantern and then dipped it in the vodka to cool and sterilise as best you could. Nick let out small grunts as you pulled the edges of his damaged flesh together, doing your best to be neat about it. You found some gauze and dressed the wound, wrapping the fabric around his firm bicep.

First aid completed, Nick placed the lantern in the middle of the table and you slumped down in the chair next to him. You took a drink of vodka from the bottle and then passed it to him, watching as he took another swig.

“You sure you’re okay, înger?”

“Peachy, Nick. Can’t say the same for my dress, and I really liked this one.” In the gloom the blood stains on it weren’t obviously visible, but you knew they were there. The pair of you lapsed into silence, passing the vodka bottle back and forth, and you trying to ignore how Nick looked at you when you hiked up your long skirt to make it easier to remove your heels.

As you freed your feet from their confines you wiggled your toes.

“Up.” Nick’s command didn’t take you too much by surprise. He knew how much you hated wearing heels. You placed your feet in his lap, and with his good hand he started to massaged up the ball and arch of your foot. You let out a moan at the feeling and heard his small laugh.

“Don’t change, do you, sweetheart?”

“Neither do you, Nick. It’s why we make such a great team. Like tonight. Thanks for getting me out of there.”

“Hey, I think we both got both of us out of there.”

He was right, and you hated to think how things could have ended this evening. There was a lump in your throat as you considered your life without Nick in it. It was getting harder and harder not to admit how you felt.

You watched him concentrate on your feet, seeing some of his rarely unveiled softness.

Fuck it.

You suddenly pulled your feet from Nick's lap, and while he was still momentarily confused you rose out of your chair, closed the distance between you and sat down on top of him, your legs bracketing his thighs.

You took his face in your hands and watched the yellow glow of the lamplight reflect in the mist-blue of his eyes.

“You know how I feel about you, Nick?”

His left hand came up to cover your right, an unusually tender gesture for him.

“I feel the same, sweetheart.”

“But we’re no good for each other, are we?”

“Not in this lifetime, no.”

Nick responded so apologetically, and you felt your heart swell. Leaning forwards you pressed your lips to his, kissing him slowly and sweetly. He accepted your kiss for what it was, not trying to deepen it. Your hands fell to his shoulders and his large ones clasped your waist.

You pulled your lips from his and trailed them down his throat and across his right collarbone. He stayed still, his emotional state only given away by the way his fingers tightened their grip.

You pressed your kisses over his shoulder stopping where the gauze you’d wrapped around his arm started.

“Will you let me kiss it better, Nick? Just one more time?”

“Of course, înger. This last time, and all the other ‘last times’ we find ourselves in.”

“I mean it, Nicky.”

“You mean it every time, sweetheart…”

Your lips smiled against his warm skin, moving back across to his chest. His scent was stronger due to his earlier exertions, and you breathed it in as you kissed across his small, pebbled nipples. You couldn’t resist the urge to bite down on the meat of his left pectoral, and you delighted in the sharp intake of breath that Nick took.

“Înger….” He growled out a playful warning and you laved your tongue over the small marks you’d left. Part of you hoped it would bruise and leave him with a reminder of you that would linger.

Your hands moved lower as you continued to worship Nick’s torso, working on his belt and the fastening of his dress pants. Nick shifted on his chair, allowing you to pull the expensive black fabric down his legs. You didn’t need bright lights to know how aroused he was; the way his cock bounced against your hand from inside his briefs made it more than clear.

Curling your fingers around the waist band, you freed him as your mouth travelled lower. You licked up his length and revelled in how he rested his left hand on the top of your head, not controlling, but just to feel you. You licked him again, just to feel him shudder with anticipation, before finally taking the tip of him into your mouth.

The chair creaked as Nick shifted his weight under your sensual onslaught. You’d done this dance so many times before that you knew what he liked, how to make him lose his resolve. You dipped into the slit of him, tasting the pearly drops of precum that leaked out before swirling around his head and teasing his frenulum.

You sank down further, drawing him deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock twitch as it bumped against the back of your throat.

“What are you doing to me, sweetheart? You know I can’t resist you.” Nick’s voice was soft, almost tender and romantic, and you wished the pair of you could be more.

His hips twitched pushing him further into your throat, and you could feel tears prickling at your eyes. If this was going to be your last time doing this you wanted him to remember it. Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs, feeling the strength of them as the coarse hair grazed your palms.

Nick’s breath was coming out in heavy pants, his hand gripping the back of your head.

“Înger, fuck, I need you. Please…”

You allowed him to tug you away and off his cock. He dragged you back onto his lap, pulling and pushing at your long skirt so that the only thing separating the pair of you was your flimsy lace underwear. This time when he kissed you it was with more passion than before, like he was trying to brand his body with yours.

You rolled your hips over him, both of you moaning into each other, desperate for that final connection. It took you only a moment to reach between you and pull your thong to the side, finally allowing him access to you.

You took him all in, relishing in the burn and stretch, too impatient to feel him to take your time.

“Nick!” His mouth latched onto your throat sucking and biting, his hands gripping your waist as you started to move. There was no romance here, just need and passion and want. As much as you wanted the former, there was no space for it between you and Nick - it would just make it hurt more.

“I wish we could run away, sweetheart. Tu și cu mine, away from all of this, somewhere where no one could find or bother us. Ți-aș da lumea.”

“I don’t need the world, just you.”

His hands were on your back, working the fastening of your dress, pulling it down your body to pool at your waist. He freed your breasts from your bra and lavished his attention on them, rolling your nipples between his forefinger and thumb, then pulling the sensitive nubs into his mouth in turn.

The fingers of one of your hands ran up into his hair, holding him to your chest, and the fingers of the other moved to where you were joined, drawing tight circles on your clit as you rode him.

Three words rested on your tongue, words that you desperately wanted to say, but knew you couldn’t. You both knew there was nothing more for the pair of you than this, and you just had to accept it.

You whimpered as you felt your orgasm approach, repeating his name like a litany.

“That’s it, înger. Give me it. I need to feel you cum, vă rog.”

His words, though starting like a command, ended with a plea, and you knew he was feeling as wrecked as you were.

You cried out, your walls spasming around him as you kept rocking, waves of pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

“Fill me up, Nick. I need you.”

You kissed him, letting him take over the movement as he planted his feet and thrust up into you in harsh strokes, reaching for his end. You swallowed the noises he made as he spilled inside you and you ground down on him, the final darts of your aftershocks shooting through your body.

Your bodies continued to rock gently against each other and you lazily made out as you both came back down. Nick shocked you though when he stood, and you squeaked as he let you slide down his body.

Your dress fell down your legs to land on the floor and Nick toed off his shoes and shook off his pants and briefs from around his ankles. His skin glowed golden and there was still a feral hunger in his eyes.

“Lead the way to the bed, sweetheart. You need to be lying down for what I have in mind next.”

Sunlight shining on your face finally woke you. Your eyes blinked open, and you found yourself lying with your head on Nick’s chest with your legs tangled together with the sheets.

For a moment you let yourself daydream about what it would be like to wake up like this everyday. You watched his face as he continued to sleep. It was strange to see him so relaxed.

With a sigh you made yourself get up, gently easing away from the man you could easily give your heart to. On silent feet you gathered your clothes, quickly redressing in your bloodstained gown. You didn’t fancy wearing your heels, so you stole Nick’s socks to protect your feet.

You felt bad about what you were about to do, but Nick had his phone with him, so he’d be able to sort himself out, sooner or later. You snuck out the door and climbed into the car, finding it much easier to start it up in the light when you could actually see the wires you were trying to manipulate.

Just like last night, the engine roared to life and shifting into drive, you drove a tight circle to turn the car to point towards the track back to the main road. You had a lot of damage control to do after last night, and despite your feelings, as you’d said to Nick last night, it was just business. You just needed your heart to get the memo.

As you pulled away you glanced in the rear-view mirror, and there was Nick, standing in the doorway, in just his briefs and arm bandage. His expression was unreadable as you lengthened the distance between you until you turned the corner and could no longer see him. Why did driving away this time hurt more than last time?

Hurting bad man, and it hurts inside when I look you in your eye.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @buckyismybicycle

#loveeeeeee song writing challenge #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler fic #late writes #nick fowler x yn

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docgold13 · 1 year ago

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Batman: The Animated Series - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Jack Napier

A ruthless and thoroughly cold-blooded criminal, Jack Napier joined Sal Valestra’s criminal organization and quite quickly became the gangster’s premier assassin. Even these hardened mobsters were given pause by Napier’s sadism and sociopathic blood-lust. Nonetheless, he was a highly effective enforcer who Valestra turned to with his most important jobs.

One of Napier’s last assignments for Valestra saw him traveling to Europe where he tracked down and murdered Carl Beaumont, a businessman who had fled the States after embezzling funds. After this Napier began working as an independent contractor.

Some years later, Napier led a job to loot the Axis Chemical plant. This was shortly after Batman had become active in Gotham City. The Dark Knight broke up the robbery and, in the ensuing fracas, Napier fell into a vat of strange chemicals.

He was believed to have perished but managed to survive. Yet exposure to these chemicals turned his skin chalk white and his hair green. It also unhinged his already tenuous grip on sanity, releasing unto the world one of the most dangers villains of them all. Jack Napier had died, but in his place The Joker had been born.

Napier did not have any lines of dialogue in his appearance in the animated feature ‘Batman: The Mask of The Phantasm.’ Mark Hamill voiced the villain in his subsequent appearances as The Joker.

#batman the animated series #Batman The Mask of The Phantasm #Batman #Joker #cut-out #paper art #Mark Hamill #DCAU

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soulofapatrick · 2 years ago

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Whispers in the Dark - Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You finally get caught leaving necessities outside the Miller’s door

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Notes: this isn’t proofread I admit, I'm tired and kinda blanked while writing this

Joel Miller. The mystery of our street. The hunk of the neighbourhood, The mysterious man who keeps to himself and his family. He exudes an aura of enigmatic strength and quiet determination. His presence commands attention, his piercing gaze revealing a wealth of untold stories and a heart burdened by past traumas. With a rugged handsomeness and an air of mystery, Joel captivates our neighbourhood.

Every morning, as I make my morning coffee and the sun timidly peeks over the horizon, I catch a glimpse of Joel and his brother Tommy preparing to leave for work. They move with purpose, Tommy more laid back and always with a cigarette hanging from those cupid bow lips until Joel snatches it away with a mutter of “those things gonna kill ya Tommy.” And Tommy always quips back with something new.

Joel’s attire reflects is no-nonsense personality. Clad in weathered boots, faded jeans and a plaid shirt that bears marks of plaster and dust from the contractor jobs they do. He always appears ready for anything the world throws at him. The lines etched on his face hinting at the weight he carries, the only time those lines fade is when he’s with his two daughters.

In those evenings, when the sun begins to set and casts a warm, golden glow over the neighbourhood, the true essence of Joel Miller is unveiled. Dust and weariness clings to his weathered boots, making me really realise the physical toll he endures as a contractor. Faded jeans, marked with patches of plaster and traces of dust, tell stories of hard work and long days spent building and fixing. His plaid shirt, worn and bearing signs of labour.

As Joel and Tommy return from their day’s labours, their fatigue etched into every line of their faces, their bond seems unyielding and it makes me a little envious. Tommy leans casually against the bed of the truck, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he takes a drag from a cigarette he’s managed to get past Joel. But not for long as he swiftly moves it out of Joel’s reach as soon as Joel rounds the side of the truck. A playful exchange between the brothers as they talk in hushed murmurs.

The pair settle on the bed of the truck, tiered bodies finding a moment of respite. In the fading light, they sit side by side, their voices mingling with the sounds of the neighbourhood that drifts through my open window. A crate of beer, discreetly stashed in the truck bed is pulled out, disappointment on their faces as there’s one left and I make a mental note to buy another two crates as the pair decide to split it. It’s during these evening interludes that the lines etched on Joel’s face seem to soften, as if the worries and burdens momentarily dissipate.

As the evening unfolds, their conversation lingers in the air, carrying the unspoken language of brotherhood. Throughout weary sighs, shared anecdotes, and the occasional bout of laughter until the beer is empty. Joel and Tommy continue their conversation, a silent agreement between them before they get up and close the bed of the truck. I can’t help but watch them as they make their way towards their house, footsteps echoing softly on there pavement. Their door opens and closes, their deep southern accents fading to silence and I take this opportunity to quickly grab the few flannel shirts and the extra crate of beer I’m glad I bought on a whim. I’ve been doing this for months now, being too awkward to actually approach Joel as he seems so intimidating.

The porch light casts a warm glow, revealing the wear and tear on the steps and dust etched footprints. I carefully place the flannels and the crate of beers on the doorstep, arranging them in a neat manner as a sense of satisfaction washes over me, knowing these small gestures can bring a momentary reprieve to Joel and Tommy’s lives. Satisfied, with one glance back, I scurry back to my house, pressing the handle down to…. Nothing.

Locked. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. The realisation dawns on me - I’ve locked myself out. Panic begins to well up within me, fluttering anxiety taking it’s hold. I fumble with the handle, hoping against hope that it’s simply a mistake and is just jammed, but it remains stubbornly locked. My heart races as I consider my options, my mind racing through scenarios of how I can get back in. But before I can disappear into the whirlwind of panic overtaking me, a gruff and souther voice pierces through the tension filled air, “Hey Y/N, you okay there?”

I’m spinning around, embarrassment washing over me like a wave crashing on the shore as I see Joel standing in his doorway across the road. He has the crate of beer tucked under his muscular arms, flannels held in those work worn hands, a knowing smile playing on his plump lips. The fading light casts a gentle glow on his face, softening the edges and adding an air of warmth to his features.

“Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble there,” Joel says, amusement dancing in his honey eyes as he approaches, his footsteps deliberate and sure, closing the distance between us. His presence brings a sense of calm, like an anchor in the storm of my own making.

I offer him a sheepish smiles, embarrassment mingling with the gratitude of his calming presence, “Yeahhhh, I seem to have locked myself out.”

Joel chuckles, the sound a deep and soothing balm to my frazzled nerves, “It happens to the best of us. Here, let me help you darlin’,” He sets down the crate and flannels, then reaches into his pocket, producing a screwdriver and a paperclip, “I’m a contractor, I don’t usually carry lock picking equipment I promise.” He quips, voice light, and with practiced ease he unlocks my door and holds it open for me.

As I step inside, the comforting warmth of my home envelopes me, contrasting with the cool evening air outside. I turn back to Joel, who is still holding the crate and flannels, “Do you want to come in?” I ask, voice shaking slightly until he smiles and I think my knees turn to jelly. Joe

Joel’s smile widens at my invitation to come inside, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of curiosity, “Sure, I’d love to darlin’.” He replies, voice warm and genuine. I melt inside again at the nickname, stepping aside to let him in. He steps into my home, his presence filling the space with a comforting aura as if he belongs here. I watch as he carefully sets down the beer and flannels on the kitchen table as we head through, closing the winter chill outside. His eyes scan the room with a sense of appreciation that has my cheeks flushing, and the light from the window casts a soft glow upon him, accentuating the rugged lines of his face.

I leave him to taking in his surroundings in favour of grabbing two beer glasses, handing him one before heading to the fridge. There’s excitement and nervousness coursing through my veins and making my hands tremble slightly as I grab two ice cold beers from my own crate in the fridge, twisting the caps off and straight into the bin with a practiced ease. He takes his beer without a word, eyes falling to the label and my heart sinks when his head turns to look at the label on the crate of beer on the table.

“It’s you?” Joel’s voice carries a note of surprise and intrigue as he connects the dots, eyes flicking from the beer labels to meet mine. There’s a mixture of curiosity and a hint of amusement in his gaze, as if he’s trying to unravel a mystery. I can feel my cheeks flush with a tinge of embarrassment that has me covering my face with my hands and turning away slightly.

Joel’s hands are rough and calloused as his fingers lock lightly around my wrists, a gentle touch, prying my hands from my face. The moment our skin makes contact, a jolt of electricity courses through me, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I’m sure Joel can hear it. The air is heavy with tension, something sweet on my tongue as Joel’s honey eyes drift from mine to my lips before flicking back up. It happens to quickly I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but his hands are cautiously slide down my arms to my shoulders.

Joel’s touch sends a shiver down my spine, igniting a flame of desire within me. His hands, rough and calloused, glide down my arms, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The weight of his touch on my shoulders is both grounding and electrifying, causing my breath to hitch in anticipation.

From this close up I can see every line and scar on his face, illuminated by the soft glow of the room. His jawline, string and defined, bears the mark of determination, while his stubbled chin adds a touch of rugged charm. His eyes, a shade of warm honey, hold a depth that seems to reflect the weight of the world. His dark, tousled hair, speckled with hints of grey, that I really want to run my fingers through. It frames his face, accentuating his strong features and lending an aura of charm.

I can’t help but be captivated by his presence. There’s an effortless magnetism that surrounds him, drawing me in, and I willingly let myself get caught in his irresistible pull. His physical appearance, combined with his aura of quiet strength has me weak at the knees and I’m physically melting into him. I can feel my breath hitching from Joel’s grip on my chin, his touch both gentle and possessive. The rough pads of his thumb and forefinger send an electric tingle through me, heightening my senses and making my heart skip a beat of two.

His lisp hover tantalisingly close to mine, their warmth brushing against my own, as if teasing me with the promise of an intimate connection. The intensity of his gaze deepens, and I can see a battle raging within him- between desire and restraint. We’ve only just met properly, yet we both feel the heavy tension in the air and the draw to each other. We’ve had no more than two conversations yet words haven’t needed to be spoken with the feel of his skin on mine.

In a voice laden with vulnerability, he murmurs those words that send shivers down my spine, “You make me feel things I shouldn’t.” It’s a confession, a testament to the power I seem to have over him, a power that both frightens and enthrals me. His words echo in the room, reverberating in the small space between us. They carry a weight of unspoken emotions, desires that defy the boundaries of logic and reason. The air crackling with anticipation, the energy between us electrifying. The world fades into a blur, leaving only the intoxicating proximity of Joel and the undeniable pull that draws us together.

As I gaze into those molten pools of honey, I see a reflection of my own desires and fears mirrored back at me. We stand on a precipice of danger, giving into this want and desire that seems to have bubbled up and overflowed in a matter of moments after months of admiring from a distance.

I lean in, breath mingling with his, lips trembling in anticipation as my fingers curl into his worn and torn flannel. It’s a delicate dance of hesitant exploration, a cautious step into the unknown as our lips meet. Joel’s lips are warm and tender against mine, his breath mingling with mine in a sweet, intoxicating rhythm. It starts off tentative, a gentle testing of boundaries. Our lips brushing softly, seeking reassurance in the other. There’s a tender vulnerability in the way our mouths fit together almost perfectly. But, as the seconds tick by, a fire ignites in us, feeling a growing hunter and deepening desire. Joel’s grip on my waist tightens, pulling me closer to him, erasing the space between us. His kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more demanding and more hungry.

I respond in kind, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling his lips harder against mine, parting my lips for him to delve into new territory. A groan rumbles in his chest as he runs his tongue against my bottom lip before licking into my mouth, drawing a mewl from me in response. With every stolen breath, every brush of lips, we become bolder, more inhibited. The caution and restraint that initially characterised our embrace give way to a raw and primal connection. Joel takes the lead, his experience and longing guiding our movements, as if he's been waiting for this moment as much as I have.

We finally break away, breathless and flushed, our eyes lock, filled with a mixture of awe and uncertainty, “Fuck, I should have introduced myself sooner.” I find myself mumbling, eyes widening and burying my face in his shirt when I realise I said it out loud.

Joel hums, large hand caressing my hair, lips pressing to my forehead before he wraps those arms around me, “Knock next time you want to drop things off.” He chuckles, voice a soft rumble that resonates within me, drawing an embarrassed sound, “Oh baby doll, ‘m only teasing.” I lift my head from his chest, meeting his gaze once again. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a warmth that fills me with a newfound sense of belonging. In this embrace, it feels as if all the worries and uncertainties melt away, leaving only the undeniable connection between us.

“Do you want to stay the night?” I’m blurting out and amusement dances in his eyes.

“I… the girls.” He seems to struggle and I can’t help the way my face drops, “No, no, sugar, don’t be sad. Why don’t you stay ‘round mine tonight?” He reassures, voice gentle and soothing, sending a wave of warmth washing over me at his invitation, a realisation that he’s willing to create space in his life and house for me, even if it’s just for a night.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I nod, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what lies ahead. This moment, filled with vulnerability and newfound affection, marks the beginning of a chapter that I never expected to write. With Joel's arms wrapped around me, I know that our story is just beginning, and that there's so much more to explore and discover together.As I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I can't help but feel a sense of hope and possibility.

“Come on then sweet girl.”

------------

The Last of Us Masterlist

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