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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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casual*

a.k.a. your one-night stand with modern Aemond Targaryen

*18+ minors dnfi

main masterlist

The intimidatingly handsome-as-hell guy sitting all by his lonesome at the bar seems to be on the same wavelength as you.

His gaze has been oscillating between the rim of his pint and you. Your face, your hands, and yes—you're sure you saw it—your ass, too. You squirm in your place, several seats away, but not because his attention's unwanted. These fucking bar stools are just so damn slippery that you feel like your smooth jeans would slide right off, and you would embarrass yourself in front of blondie. Though, his hair veers closer to Santa's snowy beard than Rapunzel's gold locks. How unusual. How strangely attractive.

Silver hair coiffed neatly above his perfect, angular face, those naturally pouted lips, and those eyes—wait—that eye. One seemed to be a prosthetic, but it doesn't diminish his aura. Not even a little. The fucked up voice in your head might even think that it makes him look hotter. More dangerous.

Straight to the depths of hell it is for you.

He throws a shit-eating smirk your way when your eyes meet again, right before taking another swig of his frothy drink. But he doesn't look away this time, holding your gaze as his glass tilts in the air and inevitably finds its way back on the bar's surface.

Oh, he knows he's attractive. Worse, he knows that you know it.

Heat unfurls in your belly from all the eye-fucking, the tension, and from the very real possibility that your own fingers will not be your only source of pleasure for the night, as trusted as they are.

Too bad you just downed the contents of your drink. Or not, because it seems to signal the first switch of the night. Blondie gestures to the bartender, then to you, and before you know it, another one of your drinks materialises in front of you.

"Courtesy of that guy over there, miss."

"Oh. Thank you."

That guy over there, who is no longer over there, takes that as his cue to finally approach you.

"Hi."

"Hello." He sits on the stool next to you, inching it closer as he settles down. He's even prettier up close, damn him. His hair looks like spun threads of silk. His dark blue sweater, his snug black jeans, his lips which are tugging at the corners to form a sheepish smile. "Please don't hate me for this, but I'm about to throw you a line."

You swallow. He can throw you just about whatever he wants, and that's not just the alcohol talking. "Oh?" you half-shrug your fluster away. "I expected as much. Let's hear it."

"Hmm." He glances down, showcasing his remarkably long eyelashes, then back up at you. With his head tilted, he looks slightly menacing, but in a good way. Like he wants to eat you.

Your coworker is about to receive a luxurious gift basket for recommending this bar to you.

His line then goes, "I find it hard to believe that someone as goddamn beautiful as you would be sitting all alone in this bar tonight." His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, then released. "But maybe I should be grateful, because this would mean that you're perhaps single?"

You have to hand it to him. That line would normally be at the same level of poetry as a middle-aged dad's Facebook rant, but from him? From his lips, and with that smooth accent? A fucking Shakespearean sonnet.

Already prematurely swept off your feet, you know you have to up your game. "I'm married actually. Husband's on a business trip. Again. My three kids, bless their hearts, stress the hell out of me so I left them with the nanny and went straight here."

His mouth parts slightly, his brows furrowing. You wink at him and add, "Glad I did."

You watch as his mind whirs, as his eye darts to your obviously bare ring finger. For a smooth talker, he sure takes a moment longer than necessary to keep up with your humour, or maybe you're just that good of a performer.

"You're killing me here, beautiful."

"That's what you deserve for that line. Did you take that right out of your playboy handbook?" you say, laughing softly.

"Excuse me, miss, but I own no handbook of any sort," he responds in a stern manner, but his smirk betrays him. "And you might not believe me, but I don't do this often. I mean, I don't really do this at all."

"What, is that another line? You're on a roll, handsome."

"I mean it. I don't make a habit of approaching pretty girls at bars."

"Why, because they just flock right to you?"

He raises his palms in mock surrender. "Hey, you said it. Not me."

There is a beat of silence as you watch each other, both trying to gauge the stranger sitting close. You decide that he might be more than just a pretty face. He smells immaculate, too.

And, more importantly, he seems kind. You pride yourself in having a knack for these things. Though you hope that knack isn't deliberately fooling you because you want him to get into your pants.

He's the one to break the silence and start the flirtatious interrogation that normally happens before getting right down to business. "So, when you're not busy with your three precious kids—" he says, prompting an eye roll from you. "—what do you get up to? Are you from around here? Do you frequent this bar?"

"Woah. One question at a time."

He leans forward on the counter, until his hand brushes against your forearm. "Just one more question before you begin, and brace yourself, because this is the most important one."

You find it easy to laugh in his company, so you do. "Okay, give it to me."

"Are you sure you can handle it, babe?"

No. Not when he's calling you babe. "Try me."

"What's your favourite colour?"

You learn that his name is Aemond. He's twenty-nine years old, born and raised in London before moving to New York to become the head of the American branch of his father's company. He has two older sisters, one older brother and one younger. His favourite colour is green. He's an Aries. He likes both classic rock and classical music.

And he's a fucking phenomenal kisser.

You spent another hour chatting each other up at the bar, which didn't feel like an hour at all. You could talk to him about practically anything, and you would have, until you both decided that it was time to let your bodies do the talking.

It only took 10 minutes for him to drive you back to his fancy apartment, but that didn't stop him from groaning and mumbling fuck's sake under his breath at each encountered red light.

"Patience," you giggled lightly, but then he turned his lust-clouded gaze to you, and you immediately were on the same page, cursing at stoplights in your mind.

With your back pressed against his bedroom wall, he kisses you with a frenzied hunger that you're sure you have never experienced with any lover. He lifts you up, and you cross your ankles around his waist. Biting his lip, he slowly undoes the buttons of your blouse, marvelling at your exposed chest. You twist an arm behind to unclasp your bra and it falls to the floor.

After a sharp intake of breath, he lowers himself and sucks at your nipple, his tongue padding at your stiffened peak. Your neck cranes upward at the hot sensation, and you grip his locks, and moan, "Fuck yeah, keep going."

He nips and bites at your breasts, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in his wake. "Your tits are so fucking perfect," he praises. "You're perfect."

"Mhmm, yeah," you mewl, reaching for his face. "Come here."

His hand slides to the back of your neck to tilt your head just right, then his mouth is on yours once more. It's unfair, really, how good he is at it, every flick of his tongue intensifying your desire for him.

You let out a wanton, wanting moan when he pulls back suddenly. He smugly chuckles at the sound, and how you instinctively follow his movement, craving more.

Your legs drop from his waist, and you barely catch your balance, breathless and disoriented. "What—" you start, confused, but Aemond steps back just enough to fix you with a searing look.

"Jeans off, baby," he demands. Like he even had to ask. He tilts his head, that insolent smirk playing on his lips again. "Underwear, too. C'mon, now."

Your hands move on their own, fumbling with the button and zipper before pushing the denim down your legs and kicking them to the side. You're grateful you had opted out of wearing skinny jeans, which you would have had to unsexily wiggle out of. You hook your thumbs into your underwear and slide those down too. The air is cool against your naked body, making you shiver slightly, but Aemond's gaze—burning, all-consuming—keeps you rooted to the spot.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his tone dropping into something almost reverent. He drops to his knees in one smooth motion, and the sight alone nearly does you in—this ethereal, sharp-tongued stranger kneeling before you like he's a pilgrim who finally reached a shrine. His hands find your hips as he guides you to balance one leg over his shoulder.

You barely have time to process before his mouth is on your leaking cunt. He doesn't start slow, doesn't give you a chance to ease into the sensation. His tongue is hot and insistent, dragging over your folds with a precision that has your knees buckling almost immediately.

"Fuck," you gasp, your hands flying to his hair for something to hold onto. He holds you steady as he works you over like he's determined to make you unravel completely. And you don't doubt that he will.

The flat of his tongue drags up, circling your most sensitive spot before his lips close around it, sucking lightly. Your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, a broken moan slipping from your lips as your free leg trembles beneath you.

You can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, spreading outward like wildfire. His free hand slides up your inner thigh, his fingers pressing into the flesh there, holding you open for him as he works you over like it's his favourite thing to do. Like there’s nothing else in the world he'd rather be doing than ruining you right here, right now.

"Aemond", you gasp, his name falling from your lips unbidden. He groans at the sound, his tongue doubling down, faster, harder, dragging you closer to the edge. You try to fight it—try to hold onto the last scraps of control you have—but he shifts his angle, his nose brushing against your core, and the whole world tips sideways. The coil snaps, and your orgasm crashes out of you. Your body locks up, your pelvis shaking uncontrollably as you cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Aemond doesn't pull away, his tongue easing you through it with slower, lazier strokes.

When you finally slump back against the wall, boneless and dazed, he leans back just enough to look up at you, his face glistening from his nose down to his chin. You're almost certain that you have never seen anything more sensual in your life. He licks his lips, and your eyes automatically follow the path of his tongue—the culprit of your sweet, little death.

"You taste as exquisite as you look," he says.

You know he deserves the sloppiest, most soul-sucking head after what he just put you through, so it's the easiest decision you have ever made to give him just that. Nothing more, nothing less. And anyway, it's for your pleasure too.

You don't relent until his warm, salty cum spills on your tongue, most of it sliding down your throat and the rest shooting out to cover the lower half of your face in milky streams.

The two of you laugh together when his leg gets caught in his trousers as he stumbles out of the rest of his clothes, making him land on his arse at the edge of his bed. The sound rings pleasantly in your ears, and you find yourself needing to hear it more often.

No. You know what this is. If all goes well, then you'll have the memory of this great night to keep.

But Aemond himself is not yours to keep.

Your face must have fallen, because he reaches an arm, coaxing you to him. "Hey. What's going on in that head of yours, love?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, closing the distance between you. He anchors his fingers at your hips and presses a kiss on your lower belly. Everything seems to pause for a moment. You both keep still as he rests his forehead against your stomach, and your fingers gently thread through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"I feel like I've known you for a long time," he murmurs, and you wish you could hate him for not making this easy.

"Is that another—"

"Not a line. I mean every word."

He rises slowly, his hands brushing the curves of your body with an aching tenderness that seems out of place for a night like this. He lays you onto the bed, then reaches in his nightstand drawer for a condom.

You nearly cry out in pleasure when his length first enters you fully, the sensation of him almost too much to bear. His face is lowered so his cheek is touching yours, and you hear every little moan that escapes him as he finds his rhythm. His thrusts are measured, not rushed or frantic. And it feels so damn good.

Aemond talks well, but he fucks even better.

"Faster," you plead.

He pauses and smiles, his lips ghosting over yours. "I'm taking my time, love. I wanna savour you."

His hips roll forward again, his cock sinking into you inch by maddening inch. "Don't wanna lose you, baby," he groans.

Oh, he is not playing fair.

Your hips soon rise instinctively, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts, the need for more of him pulsing through every inch of you. He notices, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

"Okay, then," he says smoothly. "I'm going to fuck you as hard as I can now. You ready for me, love?"

Your breath catches, your body already trembling beneath him, and all you can do is nod, eyes widening in wonder at his promise.

"Answer me. I need to hear it," he commands.

"Oh, Aemond," you breathe, "what do you think I'm here for?"

His smirk falters for just a second, replaced by something darker. He lets out a low, throaty chuckle, his fingers digging into you. "Careful, love," he warns. "You’re about to find out."

Without another word, he abandons his restraint, and he claims you with a force that leaves you gasping, your spine arching as he delivers on his word. His hips snap against your pelvis, his body practically vibrating over you. He's relentless, just as you wanted, and he has to grip you tightly so he doesn't propel you upward into the headboard.

You feel his lips graze the shell of your ear before biting down, his breath ragged as he pounds his cock into your pussy with a heightened desperation that drags a moan from your throat. "Say you're mine, baby," he actually whimpers. "Say I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this."

You would tell him anything he wanted. But he doesn't even have to ask for this one, because you wish so badly for it to be the truth. "I'm yours. Only you—aghhh—can fuck me as good as this—uhhhh yeah—Aemond."

He flashes you a boyish grin, and he looks so pure you have to take a mental image of the sight. Lips pulled back to reveal a perfect set of teeth, a sheen of sweat forming by his hairline as he keeps bucking his hips at a breakneck pace, hair unkempt and falling in front of his forehead.

You lose yourselves in each other, your sharp breaths falling in sync.

As before, he latches his mouth wetly over your breast, and you arch into him. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in tight, merciless circles that make you scream, "Oh, Aemond!" into the air.

"You like that?"

"Fuck yes."

"You gonna come for me, beautiful?"

Aemond sure has a habit of asking for things that are already guaranteed for him, polite boy that he is.

It doesn't take long before he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the release. The feeling of his cock convulsing deep in your pussy sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, and you follow him, your walls clenching around him as your own climax hits hard.

He collapses next to you, the weight of the moment settling in as the room grows still. His forehead rests against yours, and there's nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, a calm after the storm.

"Fuck," he breathes, sheer satisfaction audible from his voice. "That was…"

"Yeah. It was..."

"Yeah."

Months pass before you see Aemond again. When you do, it's in another, more crowded bar—a place packed with patrons and full of noise—but his eyes find you immediately. This time, he makes sure to take your number. No disappearing act in the morning, no hasty exit on your part while he sleeps because you're running late to work. He'll be damned if he lets you slip away again.

You both fall into something deeper over time, and three years down the line, you stand in front of family and friends, exchanging vows.

Decades pass, and when your grandkids curiously ask how you two met, Aemond would smile, eyes softening with the memory.

He would say, a quiet laugh escaping him, "I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. Shame it took us a few months for our forever to begin."

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#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader

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bewaryofpity · 21 days ago

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jack's sooooo clingy he follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, especially after a long day of not seeing you.

jack has been following you around since you came back from work, yapping about anything and everything that has happened to him since you left this morning. and you’re not surprised because he has the habit of lingering close to you when you’ve been gone for a while, especially on his rare days off. today is no different.

he does follow you everywhere like a very grown and very loyal puppy, today more than ever as he followed you to the bathroom where you're trying to get ready for your night routine. he’s sitting on top of the toilet seat, babbling about his day out with nico that obviously consisted of hockey related things.

you snicker to yourself when jack doesn't realize that you're taking longer than usual to get unready, or that he’s talking for this long, but you know how much he hates boredom so you let him be. it’s just that you weren’t expecting this.

it’s cute, yes, but now you’re more interested in seeing how long he’ll yap for or rather how long he’ll stay here with you. so you finish taking your makeup off before pulling the shower curtain back and twisting the knob to turn on the water and adjusting it to the right temperature. the idea that he could easily stalk you into the shower makes you smile so you play along to his not so little rant.

“and then nico lured me to the rink because apparently the kids were practicing and he wanted to surprise them. not that i didn’t like that but then their coach didn’t look too pleased, the kids were distracted for the rest of the practice, obviously.”

you hum, “is it because they took nico’s attention off you?”

“Uh, n-no. i mean i was the one hanging out with him first, so.” he mumbles “but that’s not the point!”

jack huffs, changing into a criss cross position on top of the toilet. and it’s taking everything in you to not laugh at him because he looks like a child, pout on his lips and looking so small in this position.

“well then, was it fun at least?”

“duh, baby.” hands flailing around him. “the kids loved it, they kept asking us questions and some didn’t make sense –they were like four years old, you know– and like, we had to stop for even longer because they wanted us to sign some of their stuff.”

that must be why he also took longer to text you throughout his day.

“i bet, love.” you nod along, pulling your hair up in a bun so it doesn’t get wet in the shower, finally at the right hot temperature. “i’ll shower now if you don’t mind.”

“oh, now?” eyes wide like you told a child you’ll leave him in the parking lot.

“i mean, we’re in the bathroom, and i’m in a towel, and it’s been a long day. so yes, now.”

and jack’s cheeks have a faint pink tint as he shamelessly watches you unravel your towel and step in the shower. totally not because he saw you naked for a split second, it’s just the steam from the really hot shower, right?

“uh yeah, okay” he says as he stand up. “i’ll get unready too before i go then.”

you hum in reply as you go on about your shower, but you’re actually simply standing under the water, trying to keep an ear out for his movements and words.

suddenly he’s taking his sweet time to wash his face and you think he might start brushing his teeth soon too for the hell of it.

but his talking doesn’t stop at all. he blurts out random thoughts in between before going on to ramble about some hockey plays he’s been looking over, asks you what you had for lunch. he even asks you which body wash you’re currently using –which is none yet because trying not to laugh is revealing to be harder than you thought. he’s truly finding the most random topics to fill the silence.

and the talking does finally stop, but it’s replaced by jack’s whistling, clearly out of things to say. yet you know your boyfriend better than he thinks so you know very well what he’s thinking about.

“you still there, jacky?” you call wittingly. you can see his blurry figure through the shower curtain, an excited nod coming from his silhouette.

and you bite your lip as one of his hands reaches to scratch at the back of his neck. “i guess i’ll go now. uhm… i’ll wait for you to come out. i’ll get us take out, anything you’re craving? because if you want there’s a new italian place down the street that luke suggested to me and he says it's really good, so i think maybe–”

omg he’s so cute.

you pull the curtain back, just with your head peeping out to find jack with one hand hovering the door handle, still lingering around.

“jacky?”

“yeah baby, what’s up?”

“do you want to shower with me?”

and like a kid opening presents on christmas morning, his eyes light up so quickly. his head shakes with an overly enthusiastic nod, and he’s already clumsy in pulling off his clothes that he almost trips getting his sweatpants off. you’re not surprised at all, the lack of grace and coordination are not exclusive to when he’s on the ice.

a stupid, wide, boyish grin spreads over his lips when he finally steps into the shower in front of you.

“hi, baby,” he grins, leaning forward to hold your face in his hands and peck your nose.

“you know, if you wanted to join me, you could’ve just asked.” your smile now matching his. jack squishes your cheeks between his palms, “well, where’s the fun in that?”

#jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #bewaryofpity writes

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hottiesforhockey · 20 days ago

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naughty or nice ⎜n.hischier

🎄pairings: nico hischier x afab!reader ⎜ platonic jack hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: smut ⎜romance ⎜ colleagues - to - lovers ⎜fake dating⎜ 🎄warnings: mentions of creepy boss ⎜ inappropriate touching ⎜ car sex ⎜ no mentions of protection - wrap it before you tap it ⎜ nico getting feisty ⎜ 🎄synopsis: You just wanted to avoid your creepy coworker, you didn’t know you would have to rely on an a "stranger" to be your fake boyfriend. 🎄word count: 5.7k 🎄authors note: this is the second last in my christmas special series, it is a rewrite of an old kpop fic I wrote but I hope you all still enjoy - next up is DDD with quinn hughes (not to mention my NYE John Marino fic) I hope you all enjoy, cause I know I did!

“The Christmas party will be held on Friday night at seven o’clock.” You boss begins concluding the meeting, shuffling his own papers into a pile before looking up at the group. “No kids permitted but partners are welcomed.” He adds looking at each of his team leaders, his eyes landing on you at the end of the table, “I look forwards to meeting everyone’s significant others.” Your bosses eye linger for a second too long before he calls your name, “Would you mind staying for a little bit longer?” You nod in response, pretending to organise your papers as your other colleagues shuffle out of the meeting room.

“So, are we going to be expecting your boyfriend to be attending this year?” You boss asks as the last person leaves the meeting room, the door swinging closed. You let out a quiet sigh as you turn towards you boss, a tight smile on your face. “You two have been together for a while now and we’ve never met him.” You boss continues, taking a few long strides till he stand in front of you. “I just find it funny, is all.” He tries to explain.

You take deep breaths as you try to force yourself to stay still, the older man tucking a long piece of hair behind you ear. To him you’re sure the gesture seemed sweet and romantic, but to you it was a threat, a show of power.

“I’ll see what I can do. He works night shifts so it’s hard to rearrange his schedule.” You say lightly, holding your papers tight to your chest, trying your hardest not to watch as your boss gazes over your body.

“Well I expect him to be there…” You boss says, and you let out a breath thinking he would take the hint, but your body tenses again as he leans forwards, his lips pressing just below your ear, “otherwise I’ll have to assume you’re lying to me.” You continue to smile as your boss glances at you one more time before sauntering out of the room, your body falling into one of the table chairs, a shiver running up your spine.

“Maybe I am lying to you, you absolute piece of garbage.” You hiss, wanting to cry out the frustration of your creepy boss. “What kind of disgusting, egotistical maniac think they can touch their employe— oh hey Jack.” You stop yourself short in your rant, only just noticing the stoic faced man who walks into the room.

You feel your cheeks flush as Jack closes the door behind him, his expression unreadable. He’s always been hard to read, but right now, his quiet demeanour feels more intimidating than comforting.

“How long have you been standing there?” you ask, trying to sound casual as you scramble to sit up straighter in your chair. Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.

Jack doesn’t answer immediately. He moves to the chair across from you and sits down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Long enough,” he finally says, his voice low but steady. “What the hell was that about?” You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten. The last thing you want is to talk about what just happened, but Jack’s not going to let it go. He’s your best friend — well to be honest he’s your only friend — and he knows you too well to believe any excuse you might try to come up with.

“It’s nothing,” you mumble, looking down at your hands as you fiddle with the edge of your stack of papers.

Jack’s jaw tightens. “Don’t lie to me,” he says firmly. “Does he do that often?” You feel your stomach churn as the memory of your boss’s hand brushing against your hair comes rushing back. You hug the papers tighter to your chest, as if they’re a shield that can protect you from the humiliation and fear bubbling inside you.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly. “He’s just overly friendly.” You dismiss, Jack leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He looks frustrated, but there’s something else in his expression—something softer, more vulnerable.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he says after a long pause. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that creep by yourself, maybe you should tell someone about it.”

“I’ve been to HR, he’s my direct supervisor so no one will do anything. He’s my boss, Jack, there is nothing I can do except suck it up.” You rub your face lightly, trying to ignore the way Jack watches you with concern.

“What about Nico?” Jack says softly. You head whipping towards him in surprise.

“What about him?” You ask confused about where he was going with his suggestion.

“People take his opinion pretty seriously and I’m sure if you asked him for help he would do his best.” Everyone and their mother knew that Nico was a good guy, and good guys do everything they can to help anyone they can and you knew Nico had the sway with the higher ups to help you out, but you can’t help the way your head shakes at the suggestion.

“He has bigger things to worry about, than an entry level employee and her boundary crossing boss.” You whine, pushing the hair out of your face before standing from your chair, smiling one last time at your friend, hoping it reaches your eyes enough to convince him.

“I’ll be fine.” You reassure the man, who shakes his head in disbelief but says nothing more, You’re about to keep arguing, to insist that you don’t need anyone’s help, when the door opens again. Your heart jumps, thinking it might be your boss coming back, but it’s not.

It’s Nico.

Like captain of the team, Nico.

Like first overall draft pick, Nico.

Like your secret office crush, Nico.

Like good guy, Nico.

You freeze in place, caught somewhere between dread and disbelief. Nico steps into the room, his tall frame casting a shadow across the carpeted floor. His sharp brown eyes scan the room, landing briefly on Jack before settling on you. The warmth in his gaze feels out of place in the sterile tension hanging in the air.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks, his voice smooth but tinged with concern.

Jack stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he does. “No, I was just leaving,” he says, giving Nico a pointed look that seems to communicate volumes. He turns back to you. “We’ll talk later,” he murmurs, before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

You’re left alone with Nico, the silence almost suffocating. He takes a step closer, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. You feel a rush of heat creep up your neck as his eyes meet yours.

“You okay?” he asks, his tone gentle but direct. It’s such a simple question, but it’s enough to make your composure wobble.

“I… yeah, I’m fine,” you say, too quickly. You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

Nico doesn’t look convinced. He tilts his head slightly, studying you like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “You sure? Jack seemed… worried.”

Your heart clenches. You glance away, pretending to straighten your papers on the table. “Jack worries too much. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Nico steps closer, and you feel the air shift around you. “That’s not what it looked like,” he says softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to handle it alone.”

The lump in your throat grows, but you swallow it down. You’ve always been good at bottling things up, at pretending everything’s fine even when it isn’t. But Nico’s earnestness chips away at your defences.

“It’s complicated,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Nico’s brows knit together, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Trouble?” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “You think standing up for yourself is causing trouble?”

You look up at him, startled by the intensity in his voice. His jaw is tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s angry, but not at you—you can see that clearly. It’s a protective kind of anger, one that makes your chest ache in a way you can’t quite explain.

But Nico never got angry.

At anyone.

Ever.

Except maybe now.

“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze. “He’s my boss, Nico. What am I supposed to do? Go up against him? Risk my job?”

Nico takes another step closer, until he’s standing right in front of you. His presence is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It’s grounding, like an anchor in a storm.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.” Your eyes sting, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“You make it sound so easy,” you say, your voice cracking. “Do you know how hard I worked to even get considered for a job here?” Nico’s expression softens, and he reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm. He doesn’t touch you, but the gesture is enough to steady your trembling resolve.

“It’s not easy,” he says gently. “But you’re not alone. You have people who care about you. Jack, the team, me… we’ll have your back.” You look up at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But all you see is determination and a quiet kind of kindness that makes your chest tighten.

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

Nico’s lips quirk into a small, almost shy smile. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” he says simply. “And because you… you matter.” Your breath catches, and for a moment, you forget how to speak. The vulnerability in his words, the way his eyes hold yours—it’s almost too much to handle.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice thick with emotion.

Nico nods, his smile growing a fraction wider. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “Just let me help. Give me something I can do to help.” The idea pops into your head before you can even shake it away.

“Nope, can’t think of anything.”

“You’re lying, I can see that you’re lying.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his arms crossing against his chest in amusement.

“There is no way you can tell, I’ve got a better poker face then anyone here.” You scoff, mirroring Nico’s position but crossing your arms, raising your brow in challenge.

“You bite the inside of your cheek and you blink more when you’re lying.” Nico says quickly, a smile growing on your face as you mouth fall open a little. “Just tell me your idea.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

“I doubt it - I told you I just want to help.” Nico quips back, taking a step forwards his arms loosening as one reaches towards you, pausing before dropping back to his side, “C’mon spit it out.”

“I need a fake boyfriend.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment, he looks like he’s trying to process your words. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again, as if he’s weighing the best response.

“A fake boyfriend?” he repeats, his voice laced with cautious amusement.

You nod quickly, your cheeks burning. “Yeah… it’s stupid, I know,” you mumble, fiddling with the corner of your papers again. “But he’s been pressing me about bringing someone to the Christmas dinner, and so last year I just said my boyfriend couldn’t make it, and ever since he insisted on meeting him.” Nico leans back slightly, his arms now loosely crossed as he studies you. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—curiosity. “But I think he’s starting to catch on.” You admit

“And you think a fake boyfriend will… solve this?”

“I think it’ll buy me some breathing room,” you say hurriedly, your words tumbling out before you can stop them. “If he thinks I’m really in a relationship, maybe he’ll back off. At least for a little while.”

Nico doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes search your face, and you feel like he’s looking right through you, seeing every crack in the facade you’ve worked so hard to maintain. Finally, he exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“All right,” he says, his voice calm but decisive.

You blink. “All right… what?”

“All right, I’ll do it,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” For a moment, you’re sure you’ve misheard him.

“You will?” you stammer, staring at him like he’s grown a second head. Nico shrugs, his expression casual but with a hint of playfulness.

“Why not? You need help, and I’m offering. Besides,” he adds, his smile growing just a little, “it might be fun.” Your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. You hadn’t actually expected him to agree, let alone so quickly.

“Nico, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts gently, his gaze steady. “If it helps keep that guy off your back, I’m in.”

You swallow hard, trying to process the turn this conversation has taken. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Say yes,” Nico replies, his tone light but sincere.

You bite your lip, the weight of his offer settling over you. It feels like a lifeline, and you know you’d be a fool to turn it down. “Okay,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “Thank you, Nico. Really.”

He grins, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel a flicker of hope. “Don’t worry about it.” Nico says quickly, “Besides no harm done in showing up to the party with a pretty girl on my arm.”

The night of the Christmas dinner arrives faster than you anticipated, leaving you both excited and riddled with nerves. Your apartment is quiet, save for the sound of you pacing back and forth in front of your mirror, fussing over the dress you’d picked out weeks ago. It’s nice enough, but it feels lacklustre now that the evening is here.

You’re mid-sigh when a knock sounds at your door, startling you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you toss your robe over your half-zipped dress and shuffle to answer. When you pull the door open, Nico is there, looking so effortlessly put together in a pressed white dress shirt and tailored pin stripe suit that it makes your stomach do an annoying little flip.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small, boyish smile as he steps inside. You catch the faint scent of his cologne as he moves past you, and it takes an extra second to gather your thoughts.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to sound casual. Then you notice the garment bag draped over his arm. “What’s that?” Nico’s smile grows, but there’s something bashful about it, a faint dusting of pink rising to his cheeks. He holds the bag up, almost like he’s presenting you with a peace offering.

“I, uh… I brought you something. For tonight.”

You blink, your eyes shifting between him and the garment bag. “What do you mean? I already have a dress—”

“I know,” he cuts in, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze flickers to the floor. “I just thought… maybe you’d like this one better. I mean, not that your dress isn’t great! I’m sure it’s great. I just—”

“Nico,” you interrupt, trying to hide a laugh. “Take a breath.”

He exhales sharply, a sheepish grin breaking through. “Right. Sorry. Here, just… look at it.” Carefully, he unzips the bag to reveal an absolutely breathtaking gown. It’s emerald green with subtle beading that catches the light just so, giving it a timeless elegance. The fabric flows beautifully, the kind of dress that looks like it belongs in an old Hollywood film.

Your jaw drops. “Nico…” You reach out to touch the dress, your fingers brushing over the soft, luxurious fabric.“This is… stunning. But you didn’t have to do this. This must have cost—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he says quickly, waving off your concern. “It’s… It’s a gift.”

Your heart skips a beat. “A gift?” Nico shifts on his feet, suddenly looking almost boyish in his discomfort. “Yeah. Well, I didn’t pick it out on my own,” he admits, his ears turning pink now.

“I, uh… I called my mum. She’s the one who helped me pick it. She’s good at this kind of thing.”

For a second, you just stare at him, completely floored. “You got your mum involved?”

He rubs the back of his neck again, his smile turning shy. “She was thrilled, honestly. She’s been wanting to meet you since I told her about… well, you know, this whole thing.”

The mention of his mom melts something in your chest. The idea of Nico going out of his way to make sure everything was perfect—and even involving his mom—is almost too much to process.

“Nico, this is…” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He looks up at you, something soft and earnest in his eyes.

“You deserve to feel special tonight. And if we’re doing this whole fake couple thing, I figure we should go all in, right?” You just nod at his words, the two of you looking at each other briefly before you step away clearing your throat.

“I’ll…um— go try it on.” You say quickly, turning to leave as Nico nods his head.

“The car will be here in about 15 minutes.” He notes, “But don’t rush.” You just smile to yourself as you close the door to your bedroom, holding the dress tight against your chest as you let out a long breath.

“Can you stop fidgeting?” Nico chastises as you adjust your dress once more as you look at yourself in the mirror. The stunning emerald dress was something Nico has been insistent on you wearing as despite you feeling severely overdressed for a christmas party. The two of you had spent the last few days deciding on the story you would weave to convince your coworkers of your dating history.

“Remember we need to stick to the truth as much as possible, it’ll make things easier.” He had said the night you sat down with pizza to hash out your relationship. “We met through Jack.” He said quickly, the truth.

“We spent christmas break together and decided to seek out something more with each other.” He continued, watching as your wrote it down. “We kept things a secret to avoid any scandals at work but decided after five years it was time to let everyone know.” You nodded as you jotted his words down on the piece of paper.

“I’ll pull some strings with Janet in HR, ask her to play along, pretend there was a contract always filled out.” Nico says quietly and you freeze, your head shooting up to glance at him. “Don’t worry she’s an old friend, she won’t snitch.” His smile eases you and you jot it down on the paper.

“Do you think this will actually work?” You ask turning away from the mirror towards him. His own hands finish smoothing out the vest of his pin stripe suit.

“It will. I’ll make it work.” He assures you, his sunshine grin dampening any concerns that still drifted through your head. “We better head off if we want to get there in time.” You lean over to your bed, picking up the white purse slinging it over your shoulder. You watch him tuck his arms inside the suit jacket, straightening the expensive material.

The work christmas party always involved people dressing to the nines - everyone wanted one day to pretend they were rich and famous, right? Nico has splurged on his suit, claiming “if we are announcing that we’re together I want to leave a good impression.” You had balked at his words, this man was acting as if he was some stranger to the people attending, not the captain of the team they all worked for.

Nico has prepaid a car to take you both to the event and both to your separate homes afterwards, he had spared no expense to make it seem as if you were really dating.

The car ride is filled mainly with the two of you rerunning the story, the plan. You were to enter the building first alone, Nico would come in after and fulfil his duties to the shareholders and management, he would always be within earshot in case you needed anything. He would eventually introduce himself to your boss as your secret boyfriend, as quietly as possible.

Nico gives you a bright grin as his driver opens the car door, offering you a hand to slide out of the car. You return a tight smile back, repeating the words Nico has whispered in your ears as the car pulled up to the venue.

“I will be there the whole time, if you want to leave just squeeze my hand twice.”

Your entrance to the party was easy, you said brief hello’s and gave holiday greeting to the employees that you knew, keeping an eye out for your supervisor amongst the already tipsy guests. You manage to spot Janet from HR in the crowd the woman giving you a wink and a cheeky smile from across the room.

“I feel like you’re going to need this.” Jack whispers in your ear, handing you the glass of champagne. He was aware of the plan with Nico, it felt wrong to leave him out of it. Jack stands a few steps away as he takes in your appearance. “You look amazing by the way.” He mumbles.

The four hundred and fifty dollar gown was swaying around your ankles. It was aline, tight along your bodice, the square neckline resembling a corset of sorts, the skirt of the dress a little more dramatic as it dropped off your hips. Your favourite part was how the dress tied with straps against your bare back, just grazing the base of your spine with the skirt fabric.

The room falls quiet as a presence walks through the door.

Nico somehow managed to look larger in his suit. The three piece pin stripe attire fitting him with perfection, accentuation his broad shoulders and defined waist. The man exuding calmness as he walked in, welcoming everyone with a beaming ‘Merry Christmas’, the party resuming as the first chairman greeted the young captain.

Jack held his glass up in a cheers as the two of you continued your night by the bar, gossiping about the mothers who decided tonight was their night. You had managed to make it two hours into the party before even catching a glimpse of the man you hoped would be too drunk to notice you were even here.

You could feel him finally catch you in the crowd, his eyes darkened as he spots you alone beside Jack. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” You say, handing your friend the empty glass of champagne, scuffling through the crowd hoping to escape to the restroom before your supervisor could catch up to you.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” The voice calls from behind you, the hand gripping your forearms and wrenching you away from the bathroom door only a metre away. You let out a surprised yelp as your boss grips your arm pulling you towards him.

“Let go of me.” You hiss as you try to tug your arm free of his grip. You could tell his was drunk, the way his steps stumbled, his eyes were blurred, not to mention the wafting smell of overpriced liquor. The man just laughed at your attempts to free your arm, reaching out with his other hand to secure you other arm as well.

“I must say you look delicious as always.” He croons, his eyes grazing over your body as he takes in the tight bodice of your dress. “I was surprise to see you show up alone, couldn’t convince your boyfriend to tag along?” He teases, a shiver running up your spine as he pulls your closed to him, his breath running along the skin of your neck.

“Please, let me go.” You say again, your voice not wavering as you look around for other passerby’s. “I won’t ask again, this is assault.”

“You know, I’ve always wondered if maybe you just made up your boyfriend, pretended to play hard. You’ve always known how much I’ve wanted you, maybe you’re doing all this to tease me.” His words are slurred as he presses a wet kiss to your neck, your body tensing up.

“Please don’t do this.” You plead, “Just let me go.” You ask one more time. You knew a drunk man was more likely to do things he shouldn’t, and with how brash your boss was sober your doubted he’d show you much professionalism while intoxicated. You tug your arms one more time, hoping to free at least one of them, when a hand reaches out to grip your assailants wrist.

“She asked you three times.” Nico’s voice is dangerously low, he squeezes against the wrist hard, your boss letting out a pained groan as he releases your left arm. You watch in silence as Nico takes a step in front of you, reaching out to take your boss’s other wrist, repeating the action until both your arms are free, Nico having a tight hold of the drunk man’s arms.

“Listen closely, because I will only say it once.” Nico starts, his eyebrows drawn tight as he leans in, “You will be escorted to your office, you will collect your belongings and vacate the building immediately, any resistance and you can sober up at the local police station.” You watch as your boss’s face pales, his eyes darting between you and his boss.

“Don’t look at her.” Nico snaps. “You will be issues with a two week notice on Monday but you are not to return to the building on any circumstances, are we clear?” He says,

“You can’t do this to me.” Your boss screams tugging at his arms still securely in Nico’s grip

“I can and I did — now were my instructions clear enough for you?” Nico continues, his body stepping closer to your boss, his voice barely above a whisper, your ex-supervisor nods furiously as Nico releases his arms, you recognise the large figure that steps up behind up and the security guard in the lobby.

“Take good care of him.” Nico says with a tight nod, the security guard just grins back in response.

You let out a shaky sigh as Nico turns towards you, his hand reaching out for you.

“Did he hurt you?” He questions as he touches your arms gently. So gently you barely feel his fingers smooth the red bruising on your skin.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, watching him look at the redness on your wrists with a frown. “Really, Nico, I’m okay.” You reiterate, his gaze finally snapping up to your face, his warm hands wrapping around your burning wrists, the one gesture soothing the ache.

“I should’ve stayed with you.” He grumbles, his frown still sitting on his face. You smile and shake your head.

You tug on your arms lightly, a clear difference between the man standing before you and the one that had been escorted away. Nico releases you easily, his frown growing as he fears you’ll step away from him. You hands reach out pushing some of his neatly swept hair back into place, the locks having fallen in front of his eyes in his rush to get to you.

“I am okay.” You say one more time, your hands sitting on Nico’s cheeks as you force his to keep eye contact, to ensure he understand that you’re telling the truth. His expression relaxes slightly as he looks down at you, his eyes scanning you for any signs of untruth.

You shake your head with a light laugh as you step forward, stepping up onto your tippy toes as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. “My hero.” You coo, as you fall back to the base of your heels, smiling up at him.

Nico stands stunned for a few minutes before breaking out in a grin. He takes his turn, leaning down slowly, catching your lips with his. The kiss is soft, sweet, his hands gentle against the bare skin of your back as you pulls you to him. You fingers scratch at the base of his skull, fiddling with the hair.

“I don’t know if this is appropriate after what happened.” He whispers against your lips but you just shrug, kissing him again.

“Fuck appropriate.” You huff, pulling your face away from his, “I think you should take me home.”

Nico doesn’t waste time, he steps away from you, grabbing your hand with his, lacing your fingers together as he looks for the quickest escape route. The party is in full swing, as he guides you through the crowd, managing to somehow avoid every drunk colleague that tries to grab him for a conversation. You chuckle, as he side steps one of the sponsors, tugging you after him as he smack the button for the elevator.

“The driver is on his break.” Nico says softly, as the elevator doors open, pulling the SUV’s keys from his jacket pocket. He hadn’t expected to leave for another hours or two and had told his driver to go down the street to get dinner.

The elevator doors close, and you leans up pressing a breezy kiss on the underside of his ears, nipping at the skin lightly with your teeth.

“The car will have to do.” You speak against his flushed skin, the man letting out a shudder as he holds your hand tighter.

The sound of Nico wrenching open the car door brings you back to the moment, the man clambering inside the car, tugging you in after him. The door slams closed as Nico pulls you into his lap, his mouth finding the scented skin of your neck, letting out a long groan as the fresh smell of mango hits his senses.

“This is so fucking wrong.” He swears, as you tug the dress up around your hips, straddling his thick things as he glances over your body. You just smile, your hands reaching for his belt. Nico puts up no resistance as you loosen the faux leather, tugging his button open and pulling down the zipper just as quickly.

“We can do things right later.” You say, “Right now I need your dick inside me.” Nico hisses as your hand reaches into his tight breaches, pulling his hard cock from the restraints of his underwear.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hero complex?” He asks, as you pump his cock a few times, sliding the oozing pre cum down his length. “I heard girls tend to feel like they owe favours when someone helps them.” Nico groans out as your adjust your panties under your dress, shuffling further into his lap as his cock grazes your folds.

“I don’t owe you anything.” You say softly, looking down at him as his cock sinks inside of you. “This is you doing me a favour.” You add, letting out a sigh of relief as Nico’s hand grip your hips, helping you slide down him slowly.

“Can’t argue with that.” He responds, his voice light as you close your eyes the feeling of his thick cock bottoming out inside of you. He leans forwards pressing soft kiss against your shoulders as you rock your hips forwards and back.

“I’m so glad you’re rich.” You whine as Nico sucks harshly against your skin, his gaze shooting to you confused for a moment before his lips reattach to your jaw. “You windows are tinted and no one can see their captain fucking an employee and his teammates best friend.” You coo, the man beneath you bucking his hips up at your words.

“Does that turn you on?” You question with surprise, Nico just nods.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles as he pushes hair of your shoulder, glancing down at your heaving chest, pressing kisses on any skin that available to him. Your thighs work hard in rising you up slightly, before dropping you back down, your hips bucking forwards every time his pelvis rubs against your clit.

“Say it again.” You mumble, your lip catching between your teeth as he trails soft touches over your skin.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He says.

“I would give anything to have you like this, on top of me, every night.” He continues, his own hips bucking up to meet you as he feels your thrusts begin to slow.

“I want you to be mine, I want us to be something.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear, his hand resting against your cheek. You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a gentle peck against his wrist as he smiles up at you.

“That’s the sex talking.” You hiss at a particularly aggressive thrust.

“No it’s cause you’re perfect.” He says in awe as your thighs clench, your body stopping as you let out a small whimper falling against his chest. His hips thrust up a few times before he’s joining you in a high, heavy gasps the only thing filling the car.

The windows were fogged up, the both of you with a light layer of sweat on your skin.

“Do you think you’re driver will be mad?” You question, tugging a laugh from the tired man under you.

“Probably.” Nico answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek before helping you off of him, adjusting your dress to the best of his abilities. “Guess we’ll both just have to be on the naughty list this year.”

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier smut #nico hischier fanfic #christmas special

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mollywog · 2 years ago

Text

Thinking about Katniss’s friendship with Madge (and also Gale)

I think Madge is important for several reasons, but one being: She shows us that Katniss doesn't 100% 'buy' the whole merchant vs seam thing.

The mayor’s daughter, Madge, opens the door. She’s in my year at school. Being the mayor’s daughter, you’d expect her to be a snob, but she’s all right. She just keeps to herself. Like me. Since neither of us really has a group of friends, we seem to end up together a lot at school. Eating lunch, sitting next to each other at assemblies, partnering for sports activities. We rarely talk, which suits us both just fine.

Katniss (and Gale) are actually progress thinkers in this way. They hold biases/resentment about the merchants, but also can recognize it as a Capital driven division.

Even though Gale snaps at Madge at the start of the book, Katniss credits him with knowing ‘his anger at Madge is misdirected.’ In fact he is the one verbalizing the idea to her.

You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set him off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam. Not impossible, but slim. And even though the rules were set up by the Capitol, not the districts, certainly not Madge's family, it's hard not to resent those who don't have to sign up for tesserae.

Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine. If it wasn't reaping day. If a girl with a gold pin and no tesserae had not made what I'm sure she thought was a harmless comment.

Madge and Gale inspire Katniss’s rebellious actions just as much Peeta

Madge’s pin is what makes Rue trust Katniss.

I unclasp the pin and hold it out to her. “Here, you take it. It has more meaning for you than me.”

“Oh, no,” says Rue, closing my fingers back over the pin. “I like to see it on you. That’s how I decided I could trust you. Besides, I have this.” She pulls a necklace woven out of some kind of grass from her shirt. On it, hangs a roughly carved wooden star. Or maybe it’s a flower. “It’s a good luck charm.”

And Katniss is reminded of both Gale’s rants and Peeta’s piece in their games speech in the aftermath of Rue’s death

Gale’s voice is in my head. His ravings against the Capitol no longer pointless, no longer to be ignored. Rue’s death has forced me to confront my own fury against the cruelty, the injustice they inflict upon us. But here, even more strongly than at home, I feel my impotence. There’s no way to take revenge on the Capitol. Is there?

Then I remember Peeta’s words on the roof. “Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games.” And for the first time, I understand what he means.

Please also check out this beautiful analysis of Madge by @wistfulweaverwoman!

#thg #the hunger games #Katniss Everdeen #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #peeta mellark #rue #74th hunger games

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weird-is-life · 11 months ago

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Can I request a shy reader and Spencer's fic. When the reader works at a flower shop, Spencer comes in there looking for flowers. And the reader goes on a little rant about what he should buy and what each flower means.

Hii lovely, ty for the request! Hope this is okay🙈warnings: use of y/n, fluff, a few swear words, (0.9k)

Spencer needs to buy some flowers for Emily. It's her birthday and he's always brought her flower before, so even if he's already running late to her birthday dinner, he can't not go buy her some flowers.

He goes into the first flower shop, he spots on the way to Emily's apartment and that's where he finds you.

It's almost the closing time, so you are just sitting behind the counter, reading some book. Spencer immediately thinks he's in love.

He swears, you are the prettiest girl, he's ever seen and the fact, that you are too absorbed in your book to even notice him, makes you even more attractive to Spencer.

You finally notice him as he's a few steps away from the counter. You quickly slam the book shut and try not to look too caught off guard.

You weren't expecting anybody to come to the shop anymore and you definitely weren't expecting it to be a very handsome guy.

His messy, curly hair, expensive-looking black suit and the small stubble have you buckling at your knees. You are sure, that if you weren't sitting on the chair, you would be on the ground.

"H-hi," you somewhat compose yourself, "w-what can I help you with?"

He shoots you a smile and you're pretty sure that your cheeks go very red," Hi, I was wondering if I could get some flowers?"

"D-do you have any specific in mind?" you ask, barely holding an eye contact with him. You are shy and he isn't helping your situation at all.

"Ye-...No, I don't. Can you recommend me some?" Spencer literally knows the meaning of every flower you have in this shop, but something about you makes him shut his mouth, so he can stay here longer.

"I can, yes," you smile sheepishly at him, "who are they supposed to be for?"

"My friend, it's her birthday today," you would be lying, if you said that your heart didn't skip a beat at hearing that it's for his friend and not a girlfriend. You thought, that he was getting flowers for his girlfriend.

"W-well, I'd suggest, that you should definitely get some yellow flowers for her. Yellow color represents friendship, would that be okay?" you hesitantly ask. Spencer just nods encouragingly.

"Okay, so we could do some mixed bouquet. Yellow roses are definitely a yes, you can't go wrong with that, they are beautiful and smell amazing. We should also add sunflowers, they represent loyalty and adoration of the friendship. Oh and mums are grest, too. They can really make the bouquet come alive, they are like the spirit of optimism. We could also-," you ramble about each flower, that you put in the bouquet for him.

Spencer listens to your every word with a happy smile, you remind him of himself with your rambling and to be honest, he finds it adorable.

You are done too quickly tho and Spencer finds himself wanting to hear you speak again.

But his phone rings and he doesn't even need to pick up to know, that the team is wondering, where he is.

"Here, i-is this okay?" you hand the insanely pretty bouquet to him. Spencer's grin basically answers your question.

"Thank you, thank you. It couldn't be more perfect. You're a total lifesaver..." he looks at your name tag, "y/n. Thank you, y/n."

You are certain, that your cheeks couldn't be more red as they are right now. Spencer's compliment makes you blush like a fool.

"Oh. I'm..I'm glad, that you like it." You stutter out your response, looking at the ground. You carefully wrap the bouquet in the flower wrapping paper and tell him the price of it.

He pays it and before you can say no, he puts a bigger tip than it's normal into the tip jar.

Spencer then slowly leaves thanking you as he goes. And right before the door closes, it looks like Spencer wants to tell you something else, but in the last second he shakes his head and dissappears.

You wave him a shy goodbye, you are a little disappointed even if you don't really know why. Well okay, maybe you do know why. But you shouldn't have put your hopes up, thinking the handsome stranger felt the spark like you did. And that maybe, only maybe, he'd ask you out.

You sigh and sluggishly start to clean up the counter to finally close the shop and go home. The door bell rings again and your head immediately shoots up.

He runs up to the counter, a little out of breath, "shit, I'm sorry to bother you again. I don't usually do this, like ever, it's just....Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like for a-a coffee? You can say no of course, hell, I'd totally understand if you said no." Spencer's now the one to rumble.

"I-I'd love to," you, surprising even yourself, reply immediately. Cheeks, of course, burning red.

"It's okay- Wait, really?" Spencer was totally expecting you to reject him.

"Yes, really....." you want to say his name.

"Spencer, my name is Spencer," he quickly understands.

"Spencer, " you try out his name," I'd love to Spencer, here." You bravely scramble your phone number on a piece of paper and give it to him.

Spencer takes it with a huge smile, "I'll call you, " he looks like he wants to stay longer, but looks at his watch and curses under his breath," I'm so late. I gotta go, but I'll call you, I promise."

"Bye, Spencer," you say sweetly and Spencer already knows he's fucked. Not even one date and he knows, he's down bad.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid

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zippidi-dooda · 5 months ago

Text

Rollo would be the type to gossip about other people. Well, talk smack behind their back more like.

He already grumbles to himself about how repulsive the people he don't like are,

So if you were to come in one day ranting about some person or other, he probably join in like,

"Oh, him? Ugh, I always knew he was a tasteless skive, going after anything he thought was priceless. He's bound to end up in more trouble than he can handle one day. Serves that old codger right."

"Her? You know I heard she's expecting soon. The father up and left and she was already out of her family's good graces. I expect she's out on the streets in a week. Two if she puts on a good groveling act."

And don't get him started on people you know he hates cause then he'll go on for days, getting louder and more expressive the longer you let him talk.

"Thank you! Thank you! See I told you, didn't I? He is a dirty, no-good, wreckless, lying, schemer. A shame it happened this way, but at least now you see the light."

And breakups?

Probably shouldn't go to him for comfort and advice.

"Oh thank sevens, this is a blessing for you, trust me. Everyone with eyes knew that it'd end up this way, even you. But you ignored it and now here we are. Magic users. Listen, you don't need them. They're probably planning to sob up a storm to get you back already. No. Don't you dare look at that phone. Gimme that. *sigh* You're too soft for your own good. You know they're just cheap dirt right? An arrogant prat. Lazy nut who isn't half as romantic as they make themselves out to be. Not worth anyone's tears. You know, they can't even get a job in this town aymore cause of their terrible rapport, they couldn't even begin to hope to take care of you. Let me handle everything for you? Where am I going? Don't worry about it. I uh ... I'll be back with ice cream ...? Sad people eat that, right?"

Yeah

Probably shouldn't encourage him with such talk

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst rollo #rollo flamm #rollo flamme #rollo flamme x reader

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robolvrr · 1 month ago

Note

i beg of you more prowl!!!!

maybe a drabble? what if the reader is some kind of thief/criminal when he's sent to patrol and help forces on earth?

no rush 🤍

cat 'n mouse ·˚ ༘

[ request - 2/11 finished ]

prowl x gn! jewel thief drabble. warning: suggestive language and content. not full nsfw.

midnight strolls by at snails pace, rain battering rooftops and car hoods. it's bitter and it's cold — you bank on this, because a certain exhausted security guard will very likely be too busy snoozing company time away and not notice the skylight letting water pour in, splashing the tile.

this little job should set you up for the rest of the year, if you play your cards right. you rarely don't.

slinking down the corded wire, your frame twists downwards, a quiet clikclikclik of your grappler setting you comfortably on your feet.

the museum is pretty like this. shrouded by raincloud and slivers of moonbeam flirting edges of paintings, marble statues. a squirm of your lips follows by a roll of your shoulders. such lovely pieces, stuck to rot and be stared at by uppity people, lacking appreciation.

you'll take good care of your findings, you assure yourself, creeping past cameras you've taken time to reboot, slipping into vents until you find the usually locked room of the city's latest eye-candy.

"the weeping diamond." so dramatic.

a jewel is a jewel and you'd be inauthentic if you didn't get your hands on it first. when you press forward, it's almost like letting out a long, breathy sigh. your palms find the glass casing and you cut a perfect circle.

a smile finds your lips next.

"put it down, thief."

it widens, cheshire. oh?

"ah. so it was you parked on tenth and cherry?"

this should frighten you. because you've not bothered putting on night vision, leaving your human sight to squint at shadows.

you see those ocean blues. angry. expectant.

"how much longer do you plan on throwing your life away?"

that indistinguishable mass starts to move. closer, until it's hovering over your income and the mystery disappears. isn't this your luck? attracting the attention of the boys in blue and their precious new toy.

"gotta make a living, somehow." -- his hand, much larger than you, grasps at your wrist. through the electric hum comes a shockingly, human scoff.

"by breaking the law? i highly doubt that's all you have available."

you give him a coy blink. you can almost see him calculating the miniscule changes to your body language.

"well, aren't you just a good cop. go ahead and put the cuffs on then. guilty until proven otherwise, mm?"

tugged forward, a laugh is earned. he's tired of this game.

"you're a criminal. responsible for several heists in the past six months. responsible for multiple of other crimes, such as resisting law enforcement, grand theft auto - do i need to continue? if anyone should be spending time in a cell", his face is close, those metallic lips torn in a snark, "it's you."

his rant is cut short as he feels the warmth of you press into him. so tempting. all his manhandling sets you on fire. he can see it, each degree, see you wet your dermas with your glossa - prowl snarls, his motor making a frustrated rumble.

he can't even bother to separate the languages between you anymore. he curses and it sounds like a clatter of pipes, whisper of broken gears. still, you press forward as much as he lets you. his gaze dips down to your chest, once.

"and there's nothing i could do? nothing at all, that might change your mind?"

your other hand presses to his helm. traces, suggests.

he's thinking. he should put you in his alt-mode and never unlock his doors.

he shouldn't be thinking of you.

how you'd look peeled of that ridiculously, tight clothing of yours. how you'd look spread open, cheeks flush. on your stomach, ready. on your knees, apologetic.

a vicious daydream he's been trying to uproot flashes before his very optics; a repetitive one that's haunted him throughout the year he's trailed your activity. your legs somehow fitting around his midriff, vocals shrieking when he pounds down and in you, harder and harder until those flimsy bed contraptions snap —

his grip loosens. you're free of it faster than a spooked kitten.

brought to the moment, his surprise gains you some time to escape. and when you start your motorcycle, it's still raining, your skin is still hot and you wish for a moment that the vibration of your bike's engine was him underneath you instead, adrenaline pumping blood as his sirens flare not far behind in your rearview mirrors.

a neverending cycle of cat and mouse. but just who is chasing who?

robolvrr 2024.

a/n: WHEW. i feel like prowl would definitely have a batman dynamic. 🫣 this was fun, thank you for your patience!

#maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #/nsft #transformers idw #transformers prowl #idw prowl #prowl x reader #transformers x human #BIG big brained idea. may or may not make a series #prowl wants that cookie so damn bad #valveplug

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l3viat8an · 1 year ago

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HI RO!!!! it’s been forever since I’ve been here oh my 😭 how are youuuu???

I’m just having. many a thot thought. abt poly MC getting praised and pampered and overstimmed just getting all the sweet, gentle (soft dom??? I guess??) vibes from the bros after doing really well during the semester/term at RAD.

maybe they tease or double down on praising bc they know it makes MC shy but also that they actually enjoy it 👀 maybe getting tied up is involved 👀

but overall they’re not mean, they just want MC to know they’re proud of them, so what better way to do that than going to the extremes to show them?

anyway that’s my little rant, I just thought it was cute and wanted to share 😋🫶🏻

have a good day, and happy holidayssss!!! make sure you take care of yourself <3

- ♈️ anon

Hiiii ♈️!!! I’m good! Tired from holiday prep but good lolol how have youu been??? + it’s late for me so ignore if this has any typos as usual jsjsj

Just imagine Asmo getting all excited when he sees how well you did! His sweetheart is soooo smart and that deserves some kisses right~ he he’s going to cover your face in quick little kisses, giggling the whole time! It doesn’t matter who else is around, you deserve the praise and the blush on your cheeks is so cute!

Then Satan walks over and basically pushes Asmo out of the way- completely ignoring Asmo’s pouting and saying that if anyone praises you it should be him. after all he’s the one that tutored you all semester and helped when you didn’t know something about Devildom law- his kiss is deep and would’ve been a lot longer if Mammon and Levi weren’t yelling whining about how they helped you too!!! This is all just Asmo and Satan looking for an excuse to act all lovely dovey!! they’re both jealous and would prefer to have you alone- whispering sweet praise in your ear and placing soft kisses all over your body <3

Belphie just laughs, obviously you’re enjoying the attention so what’s the big deal? Beel’s nodding along- tho he really wants a kiss too, he’ll wait his turn.

and while he’ll let them indulge you for a few minutes Lucifer is quick to end it all, saying that you did wonderful as expected because; they all helped you. He walks over and kisses the top of your head, whispering just loud enough that you can hear him “I’m proud of you, darling.” and chuckles when he pulls away and sees your face is bright red.

Nsfw bit below here <3

Oooor Lucifer joins in on praising you!! You really did so well and Asmo’s right, that deserves a reward~ but what should it be?

Mammon shouts something about how you should just spend the day with him! He’ll spoil ya as much as you want!

Levi cuts Mammon off, stumbling over his words but promising that he’ll do whatever you want….uhhh if you want to spend time with him….to celebrate- and Satan cuts right back in saying that he’s the one that’s going to spoil you! It’s only fair!

‘n so on- obviously they’re not gonna agree right away, but it’s cute to watch you get excited over the way they fight for your attention!

Eventually it’s Belphie that has the best (?) (depends on who you ask tbh) idea. They could just share you-

Asmo whines that it’s not fair!! He didn’t get to say that first but Belphie just rolls his eyes and continues; after all, you worked so hard to get good grades~ it’ll be his…..their reward to you, kissing, praising and touching you until you can’t think anymore.

Just let them worry about you, yea? You know it’ll feel good too….all they want to do is make you feel good, spoil you, fill you up with cocks and cum until the only thoughts left in your cute little head are about them and how good it feels to be spoiled-

and for once the others all agree- if it’s what you want ofc <3

#poly reader <3 #♈️ anon!#ro rambles #1 am thots~#being spoiled by all of them is the dream 😩#obey me!#obey me poly reader #obey me x poly reader #obey me smut #smut #x reader #om!#om! poly reader #obey me x chubby reader #obey me x reader

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rafesbunny · 7 months ago

Text

shy - r.c 🎀 pt.2!!!

where rafe meets shy r at her dads business party

despite your best efforts to leave rafe by making up excuses like, “i’m pretty tired, gonna go to bed,” or “think i heard my mom call me for me” and even, “i should probably go see if my dog needs more water” you were still stuck with him. the party had gone on longer than you expected and you had now ended up on one of your balcony’s sitting on a sofa with rafe as he nursed a beer, and you a glass of vodka and cranberry. you were nothing short of grateful for the drink in your hand as the boy bombarded you with a handful of questions. he claimed he wanted to “get to know you better” which was understandable as no one really knew you. he started off with simple questions like, “what do you get up to” and feeling more confident from the drinks you’ve had you started to ramble on about your niche interests, but quickly you became embarrassed of your rant and looked away and muttered, “sorry” rafe half heartedly laughed, “hey, what did i tell you earlier, huh?” which promptly stopped your apologies.

however as the night progressed, and rafe got more cocky, his questions became more personal. he asked, “have you ever slept with anyone before?” he knew the answer of corse. you were untouchable, one, because all the boys knew they’d never get your fathers approval, and two, because it was almost like you didn’t exist in kildare. no one ever saw you at parties or outside of school, no one had ever even gotten the chance to hold hands with you. the shock from the question sobered you up quickly, and you quickly adopted back that demure demeanour as you stuttered out, “oh- well… i’ve- basically-” unsure on how to admit your a virgin, you knew it wasn’t a bad thing but it was painfully embarrassing to admit to rafe. someone you knew had got around. you heard the stories from the other girls in the hallways. though rafe didn’t seem to care, instead he gently put his arm on you shoulder and gave you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay if you haven’t” he said cutting you off. you held eye contact for a while, before you got up, “i really should be going, my dads probably worried where i am” which was stupid, you were at a party and your house. in all honesty, you were too flustered to be around rafe and needed to leave. but once again, preventing you from leaving, rafe grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down, “relax, he knows i’m with you, he trusts me. ‘m sorry if i made you uncomfortable” he told you. as you got more comfortable in your seat, you whispered, “ s’okay”.

as much as you hate to admit it, your night with rafe was pretty enjoyable, when he wasn’t being a cocky jerk, he could be funny and sweet. a good friend. but as it got later, the temperature started to drop, and the little dress you were wearing wasn’t doing much to keep you warm. you tried to suck it up and get on with it, but you let out a little shiver that rafe noticed, “you cold?” he asked in a caring manor. not wanting to cause a fuss you told him you were fine. but he didn’t buy it and took off his heavy, expensive black blazer and draped it on your shoulders. deciding to act on the moment he moved to sit even closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you into his warm body and gently rubbed the side of your arm. you sat like that for a few moments in silence, unsure on what to do next, and almost as if your body had a mind of its own it snuggled closer to rafes side. holding you tighter, he was the first to break the silence, “you okay now?” his tone was gentle and his voice sounded like pure honey. however, you were unable to answer, because just as quickly as the moment started, it was over. broken up by the sound of ward calling for rafe. “shit, gotta go home” rafe said as he stood up and made his way to the door but not before stopping, “i’ll see you around, yeah?” heart still pounded you were unable to speak, offering him a light nod and doe eyes before he disappeared, leaving you still wrapped up in his blazer.

part 3??? i hope you are enjoying this so far 💓💓💓

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spot-the-antisemitism · 21 days ago

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Reading this book, which the pro-Palestinian movement championed and a quick search of the author showed he's Israeli OK, so I decided to see what "myths" he decided to counter

Ok sure, yeah, I dont think anyone really think Israel before its establishment was empty. From other blogs Ive seen, it's already pointed out that there were Arabs in present Israel. But the entire chapter just skates over Ottoman/Arab imperialism of the Holy Land and then just say: all of sudden, Palestine was a prosperpus Muslim land

This is going off the wrong footing, I say. The chapter seems to suggest that Christianity invented Judaism and the idea of the Jewish people. In a way, this entire chapter seems to propagate the idea Zionism is the idea of Christians, not the Jewish people. Ironically, it just makes out the Jewish people as mere pawns of Christianity and that the entire Zionism project is Christianity's idea. The chapter generally omits Jewish indigenity to Israel and other archaeological evidence.

Im skipping over the other myths like "Zionism is Judaism", "Zionism is Not Colonialism", "the Palestinians left voluntarily", "the 1967 war was a war of no choice".

"Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East" - the first half mainly covers and claims how Israel is actually an authoritarian state just because it has military conscription and the everyday IDF soldier can overlord over an ordinary Palestinian

On the chapter: "Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East" - the first half mainly covers and claims how Israel is actually an authoritarian state just because it has military conscription and the everyday IDF soldier can overlord over an ordinary Palestinian

"Israel is not a democracy because it actively kills Palestinians during its existence" - Er, Im not sure how that argument holds because, well, the US is still a democracy but also kills people so well. So do they expect a democracy *not* to kill people? Yeah, I know there are issues about Israel's treatment of Palestinians as an occupier of the West Bank, but that does not in any way demote Israel's status as a democracy

Oslo chapter: I take more issue with the claim that Egypt and Jordan were willing to "legitimise the Israeli's takeover of Palestine" because its just fluff to say: they invaded Palestine to prevent Israel from being established and they lost

"The idea to partition is a Zionist idea and the Arabs boycotted partitioned efforts" - the Arabs has zero intentions of allowing Israel to exist. To them, Palestine is Arab

Im dead. The author, as "an Israeli historian" claims Hamas is a legitimate resistance organisation. Im so done with this book

...Were there even Jewish settlers in Gaza before the withdrawal? And oh look another "Gaza is a concentration camp" claim

Curious to note how the Palestinian struggle is actually 150 years. Not 76 years as the mainstream Palestinian movement claim. And yeah, pushing the idea that Israel should change it mind

The last chapter on the Two-State solution (and its conclusion) just go on to rant about how Israel is a settler state and we should recognise that Israel is evil (and imply Israel should be destroyed) as we toss the two-state solution into the bin

In all, the book is a nothingburger really. Just pedalling various pro-Palestinian myths about Israel (ironically, for a book claiming to dispel myths about Israel) and throwing any nuances out of the window. And this is supposedly written by an Israeli

Well, an Israeli leftist. But perhaps have gone so far down the spiral and became a self-hating Israeli

Two things, 150 years ago there was a movement by Muslim arabs to separate from Ottoman Turkey so yes the struggle is longer than “when the Jews came”.

there were NO jews in Gaza before the six days war war because Gaza was Egypt then and Egypt forbid Jews there. Occupying the Sinai was seen not as s strategic buffer zone but elaborate revenge and abuse by inflicting Egyptian arab Muslims with having to not only live WITH Jews but be temporarily ruled by them

also love the infantilizing of “Jews have no power, they are Christian pawns against Muslims”, his tankie students in exeter must Looove to hear that he has no power and they control him snd other jews

He’s an ex-pat.

while you did an excellent breakdown on the book, I looked up the author

Did he flee or was exiled? The tankies that run Wikipedia won’t tell me

Womp womp womp

let’s see what landed him here. I bet it’s the book

It’s not?! Huh so he’s a BDS shill that moonlights for SJP. Wonder which one of his two patrons commissioned the book. Remember this guy sees himself as nothing but a pawn for goyim

HE WAS EXILED FOR ATROCITY PROPAGANDA!!!!

case closed, propaganda dismissed. He does not speak in my name

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #leftist brainrot #leftist hypocrisy #tokenism #tokenization #internalized antisemitism #tankie punks fuck off #rape apologia #hamas is a terrorist organization #atrocity propaganda #blood libel #holocaust inversion #anti bds

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chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang · 3 months ago

Text

“Perpetual care” platonic!(Nandor x reader)

Requested by @sleeplessdreamer14

Word Count: 2,209 words

Age Restrictions: 16+ (vulgar language)

Tags: Fluff, crack, platonic, parent-child dynamic

Synopsis: Your dear friend Guillermo accidentally finds out that you are related to a certain ruler of Al Qoulnudar and he’s dying to meet you.

Author’s note: I’m an energy vampire, except I get my energy from people who request platonic fics for this account >:) Thank you so much, made my day

________________________________________

“Yeah, but the Stan that we knew the whole show, wasn’t the real Stan. The real Stan was the Stan, that came out of the portal. So this Stan is Stanford, but the Stan, who we thought to be Stanford, was actually Stanley.” You ranted, walking down the damp streets of Staten Island beside your old college friend.

“Okay, okay, [reader], I promise, I’ll watch Gravity Falls someday.” Guillermo said, still unable to process the lore you’ve been trying so hard to explain the entire time. He noticed the mailman on Ashley street out of the corner of his eye. “Go right, I need to grab the mail, before werewolves tear it apart.”

“Right now?” You grimaced.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” He crossed the road and you trailed behind him, hesitating slightly.

“I don’t know… Your house gives me the creeps ever since you told me about your, uh, ‘employers’. I’d rather live to my 40s, you know?” The half-joking tone of your statement made Guillermo chuckle.

“Don’t worry, they don’t harm the people, who are close to me. Plus, it’s way too early for them to be awake. The sun is barely set and they usually don’t get up until I wake them.” He shrugged and strolled towards the big, dark building.

“Should’ve brought my crucifix…” you mumbled.

The sky got darker and darker, as you finally approached your destination. The house seemed to tower over you, like an angry giant. It wasn’t that big, but it sure looked that way to you, since you knew what kind of creatures inhabited it. You instinctively stood closer to Guillermo than you usually would.

The familiar glanced into the mailbox and pulled out a few envelopes. Bills, some r-rated magazine Laszlo is subscribed to, grocery store ad and a mysterious envelope labelled ‘AncestryDNA’. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, distracting you from the thoughts about your current location.

“Man, I did this one too a few months ago! It’s kinda useless to be honest, it’s not like I’ll contact any of the people I’m related to at 0.01%.” You chuckled. “But it was fun. Had no idea there were so many nationalities in my family.”

“Oh, that’s great! I did one for me and Nandor. He was feeling a bit down recently, ever since he found out that his country Al Quolnudar no longer exists, so I thought letting him know about his relatives would… cheer him up.” He smiled.

“Aw, that’s so cute.” You said, then remembered that it’s a bloodthirsty vampire he’s talking about. Guillermo started walking towards the front door. “Wait, wait, wait! Where are you going?”

“To leave the mail inside, it’ll be a second.” He reassured you.

“Come on, man. Don’t leave me here alone.” You looked around. You weren’t sure if you trusted the night sky anymore. Anything could be around. Werewolves? Witches? Other vampires?

“Then come in with me. It’s alright.” Guillermo reached out his hand and you unwillingly took it, following him inside.

The inside of the house was beautiful and perfectly preserving of the many ancient relics, that seemed to litter every shelf. Your friend truly did a great job at keeping the house pristine. You barely made two steps inside, when you saw an unfamiliar woman descending down the staircase. She was ravishing, but seemed rather annoyed.

“Oh, there you are! Where the hell have you been?” She growled at Guillermo. You mentally noted her unique accent.

“Just out. I didn’t expect you to be up so early, Nadja.” He replied calmly, seemingly used to this treatment.

“Early? It’s 11pm for Sire’s sake! Barely woke up for the midnight snack.” The man looked at his watch, realising that he did in fact loose track of time with you. Meanwhile, Nadja’s gaze travelled to you. “Oh, I see you brought a treat. Well, maybe I can forgive you this one time.”

The woman smiled and suddenly disappeared into thin air. There was a moment of sheer confusion, when you wondered if your brain was playing tricks on you. Out of nowhere, a pair of cold hands grabbed your shoulders in a matter of seconds.

“Nadja, wait!” Guillermo shouted, barely turning around in time and you felt the vampire’s fangs stop inches away from your throat. “They’re not a snack, they’re my friend. I just needed to… Uhm…show them something in my room.” He tried to make up an excuse for you being in the house.

“Why the hell would you bring a random human into our house?!” Her voice roughened.

“Look. I’m sorry, Nadja. But you know I would never bring anyone dangerous into the house. They know about vampires and they’re not a vampire slayer. Trust me, they’re harmless.” He pleaded.

Nadja scoffed and looked at you once again, as if contemplating killing you, before leaving completely. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in the first place, still very much shaken by the sudden near death experience.

“Did she just teleport behind me?!” You whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, they can do that.” He whispered back. “Sorry, I thought they’d be aslee-“

He couldn’t finish his talk, before a loud voice echoed through the walls: “Guillermo! The lid is stuck again!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I have to deal with that.” He ran up the stairs immediately.

“Wait up!” You followed.

You reached a wooden door with a golden knob. The familiar turned around to you, overthinking the plan for a few seconds, until he finally spoke up.

“Okay, you stay here. I’ll go help Master. Then when we come out, I’ll introduce you. If you meet anyone in the hallway, just come inside the room. Unless it’s Colin Robinson. Got it?” He let out in one breath.

“Wait, I-“ But it was too late and he already closed the door behind him.

The hallway was quiet. Even too quiet. You looked around, when another new face appeared from around the corner. A man, dressed very fanciful and rich. He smiled at the sight of you and you noticed his fangs right away.

“Ah, lunch!” He exclaimed and before you could ran inside the room next to you, the voice of Nadja interrupted the ordeal.

“It’s not food, Laszlo! It’s Guillermo’s friend.” She said, in an evidently displeased voice.

“Oh, pardon me then. Laszlo Cravensworth.” He extended his hand and you shook it.

“[reader]. Nice to meet you.”

“I like your grip, [reader]. Nice and firm. Tell me, are you Gizmo’s friend or friend?”

“I, uh…” You observed Laszlo’s face and he seemed absolutely serious. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Finally, the door swung open, revealing a tall, rather intimidating man. He looked at Laszlo and nodded, greeting him and the other vampire answered accordingly. His soothing voice, made you a bit less scared, but his fangs made it very hard to calm down.

“Ah, so this is [reader]?” He glanced at Guillermo and pointed in your direction, to which the familiar nodded. “Greetings, [reader]. I am Nandor the Relentless. They call me that because I don’t relent.” You could tell, he’s really forcing himself to be nice to you.

“Nice to meet you, mr. Relentless.” A nervous smile painted your face.

There was a beat of incredibly awkward silence, that felt simultaneously like a nice break and a staring contest. Finally, Guillermo broke it.

“Well, let’s go check that DNA test while we’re at it?” He suggested.

“I suppose that is a good idea.” Nandor agreed and you simply nodded along, now getting way too intrigued by this situation.

Downstairs, the three of you desperately tried to fit in Guillermo’s tiny space under the stairs, which didn’t seem like adequate living conditions, but you bit back the urge to bring this up. He punched the code on the envelope into their site and watched the loading screen for a few seconds until it showed you the result.

“Master, it says here, you are 70% Persian, 15% Kurd, 10% Turkmen and 5% Kazakh.” The vampire seemed to have a bunch of questions about this ratio, but before he could ask any, Guillermo continued. “And we can check if you have any living relatives, would you want to see that?”

Nandor’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, as he moved closer to the computer, sandwiching you between the two of them as if personal space is not a thing. “Relatives? Yes, yes, go on…”

The familiar clicked to the next folder on the site and it showed a ridiculously high number. More than three hundred thousand people. All of you remained in a state of collective shock.

“I’m a granddad?” Nandor looked at the screen in awe.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” The familiar choked out, unsure if he wants to delve into the implications of this amount of descendants. “Look how much you’ve got in the US alone.” He pointed at the map.

“All of these dots… They are my grandkids?” He squinted his eyes a bit to distinguish them better.

“Yeah! Well, some of them might be your grand nieces and nephews or something.” You chimed in.

“Oh, no. I killed my siblings before they could procreate.” He shrugged and you couldn’t tell whether it was a joke or not. “Are there any in Staten Island?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s see.” Guillermo zoomed in on the particular area of New York. “Yeah, look! Over here.” He pointed at the address, funnily enough, it was your street. What a coincidence.

Guillermo clicked on the dot in Staten Island, which revealed the profile of Nandor’s supposed relative. A picture with a familiar face popped up. Your face. With a caption: [reader], born [_], ethnicity [_] and so on. All the information you filled out, when taking the test. Both heads suddenly turned to you.

“Is that you?” Nandor asked, already knowing the answer, but needing confirmation nonetheless.

You nodded shakily and let out a nervous chuckle. “Wow… wouldn’t have ever guessed I had a vampire grandpa.”

His smile grew wide with an uncharacteristic gentleness, as if he was genuinely happy to have you here. This felt weird. Just a second ago you saw this man as a terrifying bloodthirsty lunatic and now he’s apparently your ancestor. You weren’t sure how to act, so you awkwardly excused yourself, saying something about it being late and having work tomorrow, before practically sprinting out of the vampire residence.

You spent the night, pondering over the idea of reconnecting with your relentless grandpa. You weren’t sure if it was a sense of pity, sympathy, morbid curiosity or all at once, but the idea didn’t seem half bad. After all, he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill you, which was a low bar to cross, but it was still crossed and that is taken into account.

The next day, you were getting ready to confront the vampire for the second time, to see if he’s down for a small family reunion. But as you opened the front door of your apartment, you saw Nandor and Guillermo standing outside, both looking a bit worried.

“Oh, hi! I was just about to go visit you.” You stated bluntly. The door opened wider to let both of them in. The familiar stepped inside, but the vampire just remained standing there. “Uhm, come on in.”

Only then did he come into the space and take a sit in your armchair.

“So I brought a present for you.” Nandor smiled in excitement and pulled out a little plush toy from a paper bag he had. “We made this at Build-a-Bear. If you press its paw it recites the warrior’s code in Farsi. I recorded it myself.” He handed it to you with almost childish giddiness and you couldn’t help but feel affectionate towards the gift. Unconventional, but sincere.

“Aw, thank you so much.” You held it close. “That’s very nice.”

“All the best for my grandkids.” He nodded.

“Maybe we should get to know each other better?” You suggested, sitting down on your bed.

“Yes, of course!” He tried to think of a good conversation topic. “Uhh… Thoughts on arson?”

“Hot.” You replied without thinking.

“I like you already.” He laughed a bit too loud for a mediocre joke.

The rest of the nighttime was spent with the two of you talking and doing dumb shit inside your apartment (Guillermo was just there for emotional support and because Nandor wanted him to stay). You found Nandor’s inability to spend more than 15 seconds pondering an idea and his earnest desire to connect with you, despite the generational rift very admirable and actually grew to like him. Of course, it would take much longer than several hours for you to fully start considering him family, but you’re willing to put in the work and so is he.

When it was time for both of your guests to leave, you shared a long heartfelt hug with your newfound relative.

“Goodbye, grandpa.” You said without much thinking.

“Grandpa?” He asked.

“Oh, sorry. Too early? Goodbye, Nandor.” You corrected yourself right away.

“No. Grandpa’s fine.” The vampire returned in a slightly shaky voice.

You weren’t sure, but you might’ve seen tears form in his eyes. Though you’ll probably never find out…

(PS: he did cry)

#what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits fanfic #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #fanfic #x reader #wwdits nandor #nandor the relentless #nandor what we do in the shadows #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor x reader #platonic fanfic #platonic

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goodolddumbbanana · 3 months ago

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There is something very funny that Nexus couldn't find anything bad to say about Sun except Sun has been haunted by many mistakes. I mean, if he truly wants, he can twist the knife more. (Sun is a coward, Sun is an idiot...) But no. He still has some hesitation when speaking about Sun, like even he doesn't believe what he said.

He is in denial. Refuses to accept that everyone cares about him and just throw it under the water. And he self projects all of it onto Earth.

The way Nexus asks Earth to join him, I think apart from the fact he deeply inside feels lonely, but also, he is jealous of Earth.

Why do they love her so much but hold so much expectancy on him? Compared to him, Earth is like a golden child. Sun isn't scared of her, Lunar trusts her, Solar gets soft around her, Monty is crazy about her.

Nexus wants to ruin her, he wants to make her just like himself. Because if Earth joins him, which means, he was right. The family is the problem, not him, never him.

Something very interesting about how he interacts with each member in the celestial family.

With Moon, he shows no mercy. He enjoyed torturing Moon, to prove himself is more superior than Moon. That he is the one who is better, that even with all the nasty shit he pulled, Moon is always the big bad guy. Moon's treatment is similar to Ruin, because from Nexus's perspective, they are both bringing a lot of pain for him.

With Solar, he mocks him when Solar decides not to join him. I think he admires Solar to some degree, so when he goes bad, he loves to humiliate Solar. Solar and Earth are both people who are desperately for love and approval, so he thinks he can just easily manipulate them to his side. Remember, right when Solar refuses to do what Nexus wants, Nexus calls him weak and pathetic and all. Because back then, Solar never refused him anything, solar is his yes man.

With Earth, he uses a lot of more manipulation. He self-projects himself on her, and when it didn't work, he called her dumb and said once again he will kill her.

He said Sun or Lunar or Monty they only use her, but actually, the only one who keeps asking her for therapy, the one who never actually hanging out with her anymore if not for the fact they want to ranting things out, it is Nexus, not lunar, not even Sun.

Earth comes to Sun a lot. She rants about things with him, she shares her insecurities with him as much as she shares with Solar. And only one person I didn't see her doing that with. Nexus. Nexus is the person who always needs her help, that she never can put her guard down. She always needs to be understandable and kind towards Nexus and the fact their interactions today are so much alike with how when Creator comes to her, making me feel sad.

The one who put her in such high expectations is Nexus. And both Creator and Nexus think they can just, manipulate Earth because she is always nice and wants to help people. They both think because she is desperate for love, that she will do anything. They both imply and rambling that the family she loves will end up leaving her when she has no use anymore when in fact, they are these people who use her a lot and drop her on high sight when she no longer shows any use.

And with Sun oh boy, it is a whole can of worms. Nexus hates him, he hates him with passion, seeing Sun making he throw up. But if he truly thinks that, why didn't Sun have the same treatment like Moon? Why does Nexus let Sun run around and just shut Sun down like he did with Moon? Why wasting time chasing him? And why didn't Nexus ask him to join Nexus?

Because he knows Sun, painfully. He knows his brother still loves him, still cares about him, but never, Sun would never agree with whatever he did and does.

That's why Nexus doesn't try to manipulate Sun like he manipulated Earth and Solar. Because he knows Sun might plead and beg, but for the family, there is nothing Sun would do. But He is not the family anymore, right?

So he yells at Sun, he chases around like a crying for help. Even in the cell, they are not talking much like how Earth and Nexus have talked. Because both of them are the same, immovable mountain. They both understand they are so stubborn, and nothing can change their opinion.

Do you see how much you hurt me? Do you even care?

Nexus with Sun like a child getting a tantrum and hit their mom, but still their hand keeps holding their mom's shirt. There is so much of everything between them, and there is no more word conflict yet can be approvable than hatred.

Sun is always the home for Nexus, but now when he doesn't want to go back to this hole anymore, where is he?

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #sams sun #tsams moon #tsams nexus #tsams earth

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sleepyhutcherson · 9 months ago

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while we were getting high

“how many special people change? how many lives are living strange? where were you while we were getting high?” — ‘champagne supernova’ by oasis.

pairing: clapton davis x gn!reader

word count: 1.1k words

summary: where clapton and you get high almost every weekend except this time some words are exchanged.

tags: fluff, smoking, underage smoking, marijuana use (not mentioned though), honestly the smoking part isn’t really in detail but they’re high, best friends to lovers, oasis being praised and blur hate (i do not condone!), use of y/n, feelings being confessed sort of?

author’s note: i should be working on requests but i really had to urge to write for clapton since there is barely any content for him. why am i writing a fic about smoking when i have asthma. there’s brief discussion/debate about which of two bands are better (the bands being oasis and blur) but is that worth tw? like i feel like some people (by what ive seen) can take that stuff really seriously but i really don’t mean any hate towards oasis nor especially blur, i simply think that clapton would definitely be the type of guy to get into a debate over bands, or which band is better in this case, but don’t take anything seriously!

Your focus is not on Clapton’s rambling, instead you’re drawn to the familiar glow in the dark stars that stick to his ceiling within the many band posters he stuck up there. You’ve counted these stars several times before as this wasn’t your first time getting high in his bedroom.

You groan when you hear the same song start again from Clapton’s Ipod. He was the type of person that would obsess over a song and play it nonstop until he grew tired of it. His latest victim: ‘Champagne Supernova’ by Oasis. You don’t know how he hasn’t grown tired of listening to it on repeat, I mean, you have already! “Do we really have to listen to it again?” You whine, shifting around uncomfortably in his twin sized bed. The two of you were pressed up against each other, it was incredibly uncomfortable and yet you both always ended up in his bed for some reason.

A dumb smile curls up on his lips that you manage to catch briefly before returning your gaze back at his stupid ceiling. You don’t know why your heart quickens but you blame it on the amount of weed you smoked. I mean, it was probably that. “Yes, come on, Y/N, this is music! Real music.”

“‘Real music’?” You question, only to piss him off. A part of you liked seeing him angry, honestly. And you knew just how to push his buttons.

“Yeah. Unless you can name a better band.” Clapton challenges with an arrogant voice.

You could name so many other bands that have had a better discography than Oasis but you choose to name the band that you knew would rile him up. With a grin on your lips now you answer with what he would consider the worst band to name in this scenario.

“Blur.”

The words strike Clapton. Maybe he was being dramatic but honestly he found your choice offensive. He props himself on his elbows, no longer laying down completely. His face is scrunched up with slight disgust and confusion, an expression that resembles a child who’s just had a taste of a lime. “Blur?” He says with disgust in the word.

“Yeah,” you reply with a calm attitude. “They’re pretty good.” You continue to look up at the ceiling but Christ would you love to see the look on his face. “Better than Oasis.” You add for good measure.

You don’t know what reaction you expected from him, or well you did. You figured he would go on a long rant you wouldn’t be able to escape about how Oasis was in fact better than Blur. You did not, however, expect him to get on top of you, it’s so swift and sudden that you don’t even know how to respond. He pins your hands on either side of your head, your eyes now meeting his dark, mischievous eyes. Was he…grinning?!

Now you’re confused.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he teases, his body pressed up against yours. This is…not good. It feels good, sure, but Clapton was on top of you. Clapton, your best friend who you’ve known since grade seven. “We both know you’re just saying that to get a reaction from me.”

His hands grip onto your wrist, holding you in place. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe you just liked how he held you down. “Am I?” You play along, acting dumb.

His grin only deepens, his eyes frantically flickering from your eyes to your lips, your own eyes glued to his pretty pink lips. Fuck this wasn’t good. “You are,” his voice is deep now, a tease in his tone.

Before you know it, he’s inching closer to you. His fucking grin mocking you. “Clapton, we—“ shouldn’t, you think about saying but fuck, fuck, fuck his lips were grazing the skin of your neck now, his warm breath tickling you a bit. And that stupid song was still playing!

His thumb softly traces circles around one of your wrist. A part of you wishes your hands weren’t restrained down so you could tangle one in his hair. “We what?” He asks, his breath hitting your delicate skin.

“We—“ you can’t even finish. He doesn’t let you, his lips gently pressing a soft kiss against your neck, one that makes you tense up. Such an innocent kiss and yet that locked you. He continues to pepper gentle kisses on your neck, it’s so pure and sweet, especially when you feel his smile in each kiss.

“I’ve wanted this for so long now,” he admits before continuing to kiss your neck, his thumb continuing to trace around your wrists.

“You have?” You ask. A part of you thinks about telling him that you’ve secretly wanted this too for a bit now.

He stops to look at you now, his cocky grin replaced by a gentle smile. He nods with such a soft expression on his face. “Mm-hmm. I thought about what it would be like to kiss you every day, even while we were getting high.”

A crimson colour tints your cheeks. Clapton smiles more at that. God, you look so lovely now: flustered and underneath him, his hands wrapped around your wrists, your eyes boring into his. He would gladly count every eyelash, memorise every colour that paints your eyes.

“You’re high.” You giggle trying to play it off, though you don’t try to move away. Not that you could due to how he was holding you down.

“Yeah, you are too,” he says with a soft chuckle. His eyes don’t leave yours, he desperately wants to hold your gaze for as long as he can, honestly. “But even when I’m not high I still adore you.”

Fuck.

Your eyes widen a little, your mouth slightly hanging open due to his words. Clapton grins at that and before you can say anything else, he leans down to kiss you. Your lips move with his, not resisting his lips. You honestly don’t think you’d be capable of resisting him after all of this.

One of his hands laces with yours, the other still pinning you against the mattress. He continues to kiss you and he really doesn’t want to stop. He’s desperately craved this for so long now. He smiles in the kiss then, realising he has the privilege of kissing you.

His smile felt so great against your lips.

After some time you both pull away, a huge dumb smile on Clapton’s face that makes you smile at how adorable he looks. He plops down, laying his head against your chest, wanting to be near you for longer. You don’t even have to kiss, you really don’t have to do anything but be close to him. That’s really all he wants. All he’s ever wanted from you.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool ♡︎

#clapton davis #josh hutcherson #detention 2011 #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton davis x reader #clapton x reader #clapton davis x gn!reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #clapton davis smut #clapton davis fluff #clapton davis fanfic

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lightsovermonaco · 4 months ago

Text

an: requests and comments always welcome!

wc: 1250

Summary: Pato surprises you by coming home for your anniversary. Fluff with a slight bit of suggestiveness at the end.

One full year. One full year of dating the most thoughtful, obnoxious, beautiful, annoying soul of a man. Three hundred and sixty five days of weird faces, suggestive Snapchat captions, and random phone calls. There's been less drama and more love than you could've ever dreamed.

You wouldn't trade the past twelve months for anything in the world.

Dating Pato hasn't been all puppies and rainbows- although Norbi had joined the two of you on a picnic once and you had seen multiple full rainbows. There's challenges, most of which stem from the constant distance and busy schedules. But one way or another, Pato always finds a way to make you feel like he's only in the next room instead of a few states away.

Whether it be sending you flowers after you've ranted over text or facetiming you for thirty seconds to wish you a good morning, Pato does what he can. Sometimes it's overwhelming to have him away from home so long. There's days where you aren't sure how much longer you can go without holding him in your arms or feeling his stubbly cheeks beneath your fingertips. Pato must have a sixth sense for those things however, because he always seems to know and always gives you a little more love on the rough days.

Tonight though, you've got the man all to yourself. The lottery drew your number. You don't know what sacrifice he's made to the scheduling gods, but he's managed to come home for your anniversary just two days before a race. And the worst part? Pato hadn't given you any warning. You'd opened the door in your pajamas, expecting your door dash order instead of the whole package.

Once you'd attacked him and thoroughly smattered his face with kisses, you'd worked up the courage to ask how long he'd be home.

“It's only eight hours, I have a plane later tonight to catch back to Milwaukee. But I figured a few hours is better than seeing your face on a screen.”

“It's so much better Pato,” you murmur and steal another kiss. You can't help it; you're addicted to him and have been in withdrawal for far too long. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Trust me, I missed you more.” Pato nudges your jaw with his nose. You understand his request and tip your head to give him full access to your neck, letting any thoughts of that very important work project that had to be finished this week float away on the breeze.

If you only had eight hours with your man, you were going to make the most of them.

“Upstairs,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his freshly styled hair. “Now, Pato.”

“Ma'am yes ma'am.”

**********

After spending a few hours wrapped up in each other, Pato had finally convinced you to go out to lunch with him. He'd picked your dress, a burnt orange satin number with thin straps and a slit up the leg that nearly went to your hip.

With Pato dressed in a charcoal quarter zip that's shamefully unzipped and his hair fluffed just how you like it, it's a miracle you've made it through the first course without jumping him. Because with that much of his neck on display and the proof of your earlier fun poking out from under the collar, it's taking every ounce of willpower to keep from dragging him out of this fancy restaurant and begging him to put some marks of his own on you.

"My eyes are up here hermosa."

"Hmm? Oh- no I know Pato, sorry! I just got distracted." Pato shifts to allow more skin to show. His smirk tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

“I seem to distract you a lot don't I? Like before when I got home and you were working on that project…” Pato swipes his index finger through the pasta sauce on his plate and licks it clean. Thoughts swirl in your head like mist, though the only one that materializes is the memory of where those fingers had been an hour ago.

“Uh… sure…”

“Not doing yourself much justice here, are you?” Pato tips his head, brown eyes warm and sparkling. “Good thing you're cute- you're not a very good conversation partner when your head is up on mars.”

“Well maybe if you wouldn't be so hot all the time,” you mumble, spearing pasta on your fork. “It would make my life a lot easier. Then maybe I could get through a meal without losing my train of thought.”

Pato's cute little dimples are on full display when he smiles. Your stomach does flips as if you're back in high school sitting across from your crush. It's crazy how he still has that effect on you now. You'd once worried that the spark would fade and you'd get bored of each other. Now though, you're positive that it's still as alive and hot as the day you met.

“We both know you don't mean that. These,” Pato taps one of the bruises on his neck, “are proof that you love me just how I am.”

“Yeah well, all I'm saying is once in a while you could show me some mercy, you know? You c-could-” you stutter when Pato's hand meets your knee. Hidden under the table and exposed by the slit in your dress, his thumb moves over your smooth skin whilst his eyes remain trained on you.

“Hermosa? Everything alright?” Pato smiles sweetly as his hand slides halfway up your thigh. Now you know why he asked for the tiniest table tucked away in the corner. Considering Pato's smug grin, his public torture is having the desired effect.

“I'm- I'm fine Pato. Perfectly fine.” You clear your throat and shift in your seat so that you're out of his reach. For a split second, you feel guilty when Pato frowns. But instead of giving up, he ups the ante. Pato simply moves his own chair so that he can replace his hand exactly where it was. You should've known he wouldn't let you get away so easily; Pato isn't one to be deterred.

“Actually,” you purr, laying your hand on his arm, “it would be better if you could let me finish eating in peace.”

“Mmm let me think about it.” Pato drums His fingers on your thigh and purses his lips. You both know the answer before the, “no,” leaves his lips.

You huff and curl your fingers so your nails dig into his sweater. “This isn't fair Pato. I can't do anything to you, and you're set on torturing me.”

“I think the solution is simple.” When you stare at him blankly, Pato shrugs. “Finish your meal. The quicker you finish eating, the quicker we can get home, yeah?” Pato's wink is accompanied by a dip of his hand between your thighs, there and gone. As quick as it is, his touch is still enough to leave you scrambled.

“Just pay the bill. I'm done eating.”

“But I ordered dessert-”

“And I’ll be the dessert as long as you get me home in the next twenty minutes.” a mischievous glint dances in Pato’s eyes. His hand stays exactly where it is whilst the server retrieves the tab. Pato takes one look at it and leaves cash on the table, not bothering with change.

Pato makes it home with three minutes to spare, and as promised, makes you his dessert.

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o'ward x you #pato o'ward fanfic #pato o'ward imagine #pato o'ward fanfiction #pato o'ward one shot #indycar rpf #jac writes

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