#this is such a wonderful positive place for me and I need to thank everybody for that!!! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nereidprinc3ss]

whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 

“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 

He circles to the foot of the bed. 

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 

“I like hearing you say yes.” 

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 

“Yes, you can take them off.” 

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 

“My attitude is your fault.” 

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 

“Spencer,” you grit. 

He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 

“Are you just saying that?” 

Another kiss. 

“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 

“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 

“Don’t go spreading it around.” 

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 

“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 

“Oh, do I?” 

[mommynott]

Back with another request😛😍 can you write about Dealer!Mattheo and Innocent!Reader!! but a plot like she’s a perfect and good at everything basically and nobody would suspect she smokes but one day she asks if he deals and she comes over to his and he’s like really reserved but it end up in smut?! please and ty my favoritest writer ever!🤭🤭

Ooooo I have been SO excited to write this one! Starting with a little Drabble of them talking, SOOO excited to write more💋

Alright, let’s get into dealer!mattheo 😈

The Questioning

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, CHARS 18+, College AU, flirting, tension, build up, dealer!mattheo, weed use, dealing

Your looks deceived a lot of people. Sure you were shy, intelligent, reserved. But you also liked to let loose every now and then. Didn’t everybody?

The usual guy you used was gone and you knew Mattheo was a dealer. Everyone knew. You walked through the hallways until you spotted him. Attractive as ever, talking with Theo and Blaise.

Slowly, you approached the group, your doe eyes locked with Matt’s as your hands clutched your books tightly against your chest. Feeling your heart pounding with nervousness.

“Hey…Mattheo?”

A soft croak managed to escape your now dry throat while Mattheo smirked down at you. Such a pretty little thing. He dismissed Theo and Blaise, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the stone wall. His muscles flexed naturally, causing you to gawk down at them.

“Yes?” Matt asked in his usual cocky manner, raising a curious brown down at you as you swayed from side to side. Trying to find the words to speak. “I….I was wondering if you had some… weed?”

Mattheo scoffed finding it rather adorable that you even needed to ask him that. “Not on me…But yes I sell. You need some?” His raspy voice came out growl-like, taking a toothpick out of his pocket before placing it between his lips. Fuck.

“Mhmm- Is that okay?”

This caused Matt to laugh under his breath before his dark chocolate gaze locked with yours. But in Mattheos mind? He was already thinking of the positions he could put you in. How those lush lips of yours would look wrapped around his cock. How loud he could make you scream.

“‘Course it’s okay, doll face.”

The nickname only made your pulse accelerate. It was a known fact Mattheo Riddle was a player and at times….You'd think of what it was like with him. After all, he was an attractive guy. “Alright, cool. Thanks.”

The softest and sweetest smile sprawled across your face and Matt stood up straight, placing a hand on your shoulder, practically towering over you. “Come by my dorm after class and I got you, darlin’”

He smirked one last time and you could feel the apples of your cheeks burning up. You nodded your head just as he walked away, throwing you one last charming wink before he disappeared into the crowded hallway.

You stood back, trying to catch your breath before you made it to your next class. Already waiting to go see him. Wondering if you’d be in for more than what you asked for because Merlin knew you were hoping so.

Eeekkkk! I hope you guys liked this small little Drabble I have SO many ideas with how I want this to go!

Love you all my smut sluts, requests and asks open 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Monday Morning

Kiyana walked into work that morning feeling like shit was going to hit the fan. Her date with Eli was… wonderful.. It took a while for her embarrassment to go away from Josh showing up and showing his ass but after getting over that they had a great time. If she was being honest, she could see herself settinging down again with him. She had a soft smile on her face as she walked over to the nurses station after checking in on a patient. 

Kiyana jumped as Debra plopped down on the chair next to her. “Spill the tea, tell me everything.” Kiyana laughed at her use of slang that she definitely learned from one of her grandchildren.  Kiyana smirked and contented to chart, laughing when Debra reached over and turned off the computer monitor. 

“Debra!.” She chortled, turning her chair to she was facing Debra who flagged her off.

“It was only the monitor, your work is good.” Debra rolled her eyes. “Spill!” Kiyana rolled her eyes aswell before telling Debra all about her and Eli’s date, minus her ex-husband showing up, she did not want to relive that, at all.  

Kiyana told Debra all about her evening with Elijah, how he took her to The Grand Marlin, how they took a nice stroll on the beach after dinner and when Kiyana told Debra that she and Elijah had gone back to his place, Debra’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“Wait, stop” Debra whispered, leaning in closer to Kiyana so none of the other nurses could hear what they were saying. “You guys didn’t… you know.” Kiyana bit her lip before she responded to Debra. 

“No, I mean we didn’t go all the way, if you know what I mean.” Debra’s eyes were still wide but there was now a smirk on her face. 

“Oh, I'm catching what you’re throwing.” she responded, making Kiyana laugh. “Was it good, better yet, was it better than your ex-husband?” 

“Oh my god, Debra!” Kiyana mutters as she placed her head in her hands, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.  Debra stared at Kiyana as she awaited her answer. “Oh my god” Kiyana muttered again “it was good, but no, nowhere as close.” 

“Sorry to interrupt ya’ll.” One of the new nurses Arin, spoke up as she hung up the phone. “But we have a new patient coming into room 302. EMT’s said her contractions are 8 minutes apart, but she still wants to be admitted.” Kiyana nodded and stood from her seat to go get the patient’s room ready.

“We’re not done talking Nurse Jackson.” Debra called out after her and Kiyana made a yeah-yeah motion with her hand before walking away. Just as Kiyana finished putting a new sheet on the patient’s bed, the expected mother-to-be was rolled into the room. 

“Hi, I’m Kiyana. I'll be your nurse today.” She says as she walks over and helps the patient into the bed. 

“Nice to meet you.” The patient says, wincing in pain as another contraction hits her. Kiyana offers her hand so the patient could squeeze it. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” Kiyana smiles, “I’ve been in your position four times, I know them contractions hurt. Can I get your name and date of birth?”

“Alexis Daniels.”

'What a small world, Daniels isn't really a common last name.' Kiyana thinks as she logs into the computer to chart Alexis’ vitals.

“December 15th 1989” 

“Perfect, and what is baby boy's name?” 

“Me and my husband still haven’t fully agreed on a name yet, but I like the name Carter.” 

“That is such a cute name. It was my top choice for my youngest as well, but me and my - we went with Kairo.” Kiyana said, smiling at Alexis as she chided herself in her head for almost getting too personal with the patient, not everybody needed to know she was a divorced mother. “I can still put Carter in the chart or we can just call him baby Daniels until you and your husband come up with a name.” 

“Baby Daniels, is perfect. This is our third child but first boy and he really wants to be a part of the naming decision.” Alexis breathed out as another contraction hit her, she then cursed and threw her phone down next to her. “Speaking of husband, can you do me a huge favor.?” 

Kiyana stopped typing and turned her attention to Alexis. “Sure, anything you need.” 

Alexis smiles. “My husband actually works in this hospital, he’s a surgeon on the trauma floor. Do you think you can page him for me? He’s not answering his phone.” Alexis says, holding up her phone and Kiyana felt her stomach twist at Alexis’ words. 'Just a coincidence,' Kiyana thought. 'Just because her last name is Daniels doesn’t mean shit.'

“Mmhm, keep telling yourself that.” That other voice called out, making Kiyana frown. 

“Sure, I can.” She finally responded, plastering a smile on her face. “What’s his name?” 

“Elijah Daniels.”  Kiyana digs her fingernails into her thigh to stop herself from cursing. She was hurt. She felt sick to her stomach as she thought about what she and Eli did last night. 

“Shit, you got such a pretty pussy ma’” Elijah breathed out as he used his index and middle finger to spread her lips and suck her clit into his mouth. Kiyana moaned, lifting her hand to his head before frowning when she realized there was nothing there for her to grab on to. That thought quickly leaves her head as he thrust two of his fingers in her

She felt betrayed and played. Then she started to feel sick to her stomach. ‘Oh my god,’ She thought ‘I'm no better than that woman Josh was sleeping with.’ 

“Kiyana, are you okay?” Kiyana snapped out of her flashback, her voice shaking with anger as she responded back to Alexis 

“I’m fine. I’m gonna go page your husband for you.” Kiyana turns her back to Alexis and storms to the nurses station, snatching the phone off the hook she - as calmly as she could - pages Elijah to the labor & delivery floor. 

“Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & deliver, Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & delivery.” Debra arches an eyebrow at Kiyana. 

“You missed him that bad?” She jokes, laughing then stops as she feels the anger radiating off of Kiyana. “Sweetly what happened?” 

“That asshole is married with children! His wife is the patient in 302.” Debra’s jaw dropped open. “I feel so freaking stupid.” She hissed out just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a cheerful Elijah who was smiling brightly as he made his way towards Kiyana. 

“I knew that was you, are you okay? Is everything good?.” He smiled, and Kiyana struggled to maintain her composure, because at that moment, all she wanted to do was to smack that smile off his damn face. The more she looked at him, the angrier she got. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your wife is in room 302 waiting to deliver your third child.” She felt a sick satisfaction flow through her as the smile slowly left his face. Debra quickly decided to leave them alone, deciding it was time to go check on her patient. 

“Wait, I can explain.” Kiyana held her hand up, cutting him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear shit you have to say to me Elijah. Think about how your wife will feel once she finds -'' Elijah gripped her arm and pulled her down the hall, away from the nurses station. 

“She aint finding shit out, Kiyana. What I do ain’t none of her damn business.” When she tried to pull her arm away, he gripped it tighter, “You don’t know what I'm capable of Kiyana. You’re gonna go back in that damn room and help my wife through her discomfort and when the time comes, help deliver our child okay?!” He sneered at her, when she didn’t respond he squeezed her arm until she cried out in pain. 

“Ow! Stop. Okay! Okay!” She cried out in pain, feeling her tears sting her eyes. Elijah let go of her arm and straightened out his lab coat. 

“I’m gonna go check on my wife. I’ll see you later.” He brushed past her, leaving her rubbing her arm, where she knew she would be bruised, pulling his wedding ring out of the pocket and sliding it onto his finger. 

🙃🫣

i'm gonna go into hiding now

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[whiskersz]

oh I have a request what is you do a story about reader x Adam where she is seen like a swan 🦢 beautiful, elegant, and graceful while Adam is Adam and both are together and everybody is like seriously what does she see in him? And she’s like “he makes me laugh 🥰” then shows Adam stuff his face all in a messy manner and looking goofy while reader looks at him with love

This request was so cute! Thank you for dropping it in my inbox, hope I did it justice :3

Divider : benkeibear

Adam x Graceful! Fem! Reader

Your high heels made a clacking sound as you walked across the street; your flowy dress made many heads turn, just for Angels to be stunned by your beauty once they saw you.

Saying you weren’t used to this would be a lie, as every day many individuals would comment on your beauty and grace; you were quite modest about it though, always thanking them but never bragging about all the attention that you received.

This wasn’t what your day was going to be about though; in fact, Adam was.

You were going on a date with your boyfriend, and you were thrilled about it; you two hadn’t been able to go out for a while, since he was quite busy with shows and whatnot during that time of the year.

You always tried to be there for his gigs, but usually he was busy with band outings afterwards or he was too beat – and quite sweaty, too – to go out for a romantic date with you.

And when he wasn’t busy with gigs, he was too caught up in more confidential matters with Sera. Things regarding Hell, you guessed.  So naturally you allowed him to have some chiller dates with you in the weekend, prioritizing his desires a bit.

But this time you two had planned a whole day out together, with the first stop being a restaurant to eat some lunch.

Finally reaching your destination, you stopped in your tracks and fixed your hair to look as pretty as you could for your boyfriend. Not that he would notice if you had a hair out of place, he always called you stunning even when you were in your nightwear and you had just woken up, but you still wanted to look your best for your special day.

You checked your phone, and saw a message from him that said he was going to fly there to get there faster. You were about to reply when you heard a strong flap of wings from above you.

“Hey babe!” he descended from the sky, snaking an arm around your figure and kissing the top of your head. He was wearing his mask, as always when he was in public, but you really didn’t mind.

“Hey Adam! We arrived at the same time,” you pointed out as he tucked his wings under his arms. You noticed he was wearing his usual robe, but as the wind blew it around a little you could see his spiked combat boots underneath.

“We did, wanna go in?”

“Sure!”

You chatted about this and that as you entered the fancy restaurant, the carefully designed decor catching your eye immediately. He even had to ask you if you were listening as you got caught up staring at the luxurious furnishings.

A waiter welcomed you and lead you to your booked table near a window overlooking a beautiful garden, you could touch the bush of white roses outside if you leaned out a little, if you wanted.

You didn’t need much time to choose your orders; both of you decided to go with your favorite food as a treat, Adam’s being ribs, and as soon as the dishes arrived you dug in. You made a mental note to leave a positive review to the restaurant as even the food tasted heavenly.

“Holy shit, these ribs go hard as fuck! Want one?” Adam asked between bites, picking one up with his free hand and handing it to you. You grabbed it helping yourself with your cutlery, and chuckled at your boyfriend’s behaviour.

You were just about to take a bite out of the rib when you heard something that you probably shouldn’t have;

“...I wonder what she sees in him?”

You turned around swiftly and caught the two Angels commenting on your relationship red handed; one of them had the appearance of a sheep, fur pristine and styled into ringlets, the other resembled a cat.

They immediately averted their gaze when yours fell on them, but you still shifted so you could face them better.

“Well, he makes me happy and makes me laugh. Isn’t that enough?” you stated with a kind smile, no malice in your words, and pointed at Adam with your fork. The two girls grimaced as they looked at your boyfriend, hands dirty and mouth stuffed with ribs; he was enjoying his lunch so much that he hadn’t even noticed the food had left a stain on the sleeve of his robe.

“Suit yourself...” the sheep Angel commented once again, and it was Adam’s turn to reply.

“You’re damn lucky I’m busy eating ribs and being on a date with my girlfriend. Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to?”

“The first man, Adam.” You finished his sentence fondly.

The Angels shivered; you’d dare say you never witnessed anyone leave a place faster than they did that restaurant.

[simpxxstan]

Had this insane thought where reader and wonwoo are exes,both extremely rich people, n one day they get dragged to one of the mega rich orgies (which they never attended and never planned on attending because it wasnt their) by their friends to way to help them get back into the dating world and try meeting new people but they get separated from their friends and bump into each other and spend the next few hours having to forcefully e/o from being pulled away and flirted with byother people(while having to keep their composure) this goes on until one of them finally breaks andd they fuck the hell out of each other (dom!reader for like 5 minutes because being with ww was the only time they didn't top, they "forgot") i am so sorry if my English is bad and this makes no sense its 3 am and I like woke up in the middle of the night horny-

OH ANON this makes sense and your details were all perfect! and most importantly, thank you for sharing your thoughts w me

here's my contribution to your wonderful imagination-

warnings: NSFW (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) mild description of orgy, possible multiple sex partners, jealousy and public-ish sex, tables being broken and sex on the floor(???)

wonwoo doesn't really mind being in the orgy and he decides to take advantage of the situation so he does get into a few scenes w some people

you, on the other hand, can't stand other people getting their hands over wonwoo

it's bad enough that you broke up with him because you wanted to focus on work (and you regret it but your pride is too big to beg him to come back)

and you're aware that wonwoo must be getting intimate w someone or the other, but SEEING IT HAPPEN? different story entirely

you hardly get emotional over something as physical as sex, treating it as nothing more than sex, so you convince yourself that seeing wonwoo in this position will not affect you

as expected, you're wrong

you're equal parts mad, irritated, upset and aroused

but you can't give wonwoo the pleasure of seeing how much you want to be in place of his current partner

so you get into a scene too yourself, not to get him jealous per se (because you don't think he will get jealous), but to just get your mind off him

you're wrong again.

for approx 5 minutes you enjoy domming your partner, relishing the control

but then wonwoo steps right in and takes over

because he gets incredibly jealous and cannot ignore it from the sidelines

and then he shows you, and your partner(s) during the scene who you really belong to

"you've tested me enough, doll" he says when he flips you over and lays you down on the nearest table

and god, you let him manhandle you

because a. you've missed it, and b. you love it

you may relish having control w others but there's nothing you love more than giving up control to wonwoo because you trust him to show you a divine time

so wonwoo does

he breaks the table with such a loud creak, that everybody at the party turns to look

but somehow you can't find yourself to care

you end up fucking on the floor, over the fragments of the table

"come back to me, baby" he asks you, while stuffing you full in the best way possible

your body is already marked by him completely but he can't get enough

"come back to me because i miss you, i want you, i need you, and i belong to you"

when you cry that night, it's not because of pain, but because he's giving it to you so good, you feel yourself becoming one with him

you'd be a fool to not go back to him now because he's reminded you thorougly that you two belong together

and the night ends with your confirmation to him, because you are his and he is yours

wonwoo decides everyone's had a good enough show, so he takes you home to finish that night

the orgy becomes a good memory for y'all later on in your relationship when you taunt him and he gets jealous again, but it's all a joke because you don't want anyone lay hands on wonwoo ever again and it's a mutual feeling

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Lifelines Intertwined

Chapter 1

Valkyrie x Reader

Summary: You are sent to New Asgard to help King Valkyrie protect her Kingdom. Soulmate AU.

Word count: 1.7k

Soulmates, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst.

A/N: Been working on this one for a while, hope you like it :)

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling <3

Masterlist | This Work's Masterlist | AO3

Ripping Wings Off Of Butterflies

Soulmarks. A permanent imprint on your body that matches that of the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with.

Everybody has one, you have one, your partner has one, or at least, you hope you do, have a partner, that is.

They are simple, discreet, and easy to hide, but clear enough that you can spot your soulmate with the utmost certainty once you see it. Except, your mark is anything but. You were born with what can only be described as a hieroglyph expanding the entirety of your left forearm, in a tint so light, it almost blends in with your skin.

Your soulmark is so strange and in plain sight that it turns heads every time you're out in public, so you've learned to hide it underneath a hoodie, no matter the weather.

Having gone your whole life with such an odd mark has turned you cold, distant, emotionless. You joined S.H.I.E.L.D. hoping to be a productive member of society under the assumption that your coworkers would have a similar worldview to yours, but, it turns out, even the superheroes have found their life partners.

It has come to a point in your life where you are convinced you don’t really have a soulmate, and you are working towards being okay with that.

"Fury, do you copy?"

"What is it, Danvers?"

"The Kree are targeting New Asgard, you have to do something about it."

"Do I?"

"You need to send backup, quickly."

"Can’t you deal with it yourself?"

"I would, but I can't be in two places at once."

"The King hasn't contacted me at all."

"She’s more stubborn than me, please say yes so I can let her know."

"Fine."

You were called into Fury’s office first thing this morning, but you’re not really feeling so lively today, much like every other day, so you take your time. You slowly drag your feet into his office and slump on the chair in front of his desk without saying a word.

"You’re late," he states flatly.

"Okay."

"You’re not gonna half ass an excuse?"

"Uh, traffic?" you shrug.

He crosses his arms out of habit, "You live in this building."

"You said, 'half ass,'" you retaliate.

He starts to wonder why you were his first choice for this, but soon remembers you’re the most qualified for it, so he hands you a folder, "I have an assignment for you."

"Do you ever bring good news?"

"I think you might actually like this one."

The trip to New Asgard was longer than you expected, which gave you enough time to hype yourself up. For some reason you were determined to not be an asshole in front of The King.

As soon as you land, you can feel your heart beating faster and your hands begin to sweat. The pilot opens the door for you and wishes you luck on your mission.

You come down from the aircraft and immediately spot King Valkyrie making her way to you in all her mighty glory. She greets you and shows you around while her assistant takes your bags to your room.

"Marv speaks very highly of you," she comments as you’re walking into the palace.

"I try my best," you hesitate a little embarrassed.

"Thank you again, for making the trip and for helping me out here, New Asgard will really appreciate it."

"I hope I can do you justice."

"I’m sure you will," she opens the door to her office and gestures for you to come in, "do you have a codename?"

Every second that passes helps you feel more at ease with your surroundings, "I don't subscribe to such performative crap."

She laughs, "What should I call you then?"

"Whatever you'd call someone in my position, Agent? Soldier?"

She gently shakes her head, "You’re gonna be my right hand man, you need a more respectable title than that," her eyes fixate on yours, "how about 'Princess'?"

Your heart skips a beat, "If it is to your liking." You clear your throat.

"Alright then, my assistant will show you to your quarters, I will see you back here first thing tomorrow," she instructs with a smile on her face.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance." You bow your head.

She chuckles at your behavior, "You can drop the manners now, I already like you," she reassures you, shooting you a wink, "see you tomorrow."

You get to your room and unpack your stuff, you’re feeling good about this, maybe a change of scenery is exactly what you need to get your mind off of your imminent loneliness.

The King sits at her desk, reflecting. When Carol first made the suggestion, Valkyrie was unsure about having an agent in her Kingdom for support, but, after your introduction, she wonders why Carol didn’t bring it up sooner.

The next morning you get up as soon as the clock rings feeling your feet bounce on the ground, making your every move easier. It’s the first time in years you get up without snoozing your alarm even once. You get ready with your trusty hoodie on and knock on The Kings office at 7am sharp.

You walk in as she instructs and are surprised to see she’s already working. You stand by her desk, waiting for her to acknowledge you. After a moment, she lifts her head to see you, "You look hot."

"Thanks," you smirk.

"I mean temperature wise." She gives you a cheeky look, before going back to her work.

"Oh, no, I’m okay."

"It’s the middle of summer." She raises a questioning eyebrow without making eye contact.

"You’re wearing a three piece suit," you retaliate as you sit down in front of her.

She finally puts her work to the side to give you her undivided attention, "I am The King, what's your excuse?"

You feel as if you’ve been put on the spotlight, "It’s my emotional support hoodie?"

"Are you not wearing anything underneath?" she pries as she leans on the desk.

"If I say no, will that get you off my back?" You really hope she isn’t gonna make you take it off.

"I’ll take that thing off your back." She stands up and opens one of the drawers behind her to produce a uniform, she turns around and hands it to you.

You extend your arms and take it without even thinking, then unfold it to reveal a costume similar to her battling one, cape and all, "Do you have anything less…dramatic?"

"You work for The King now, you must look the part." Your brain starts racing, looking for a way to conceal your soulmark in such a bold outfit.

"Can I at least get sleeves?"

Sensing your unease, Valkyrie arranges a visit to the royal tailor, so you can adjust the uniform to your preference, with some restrictions. You compromise on a shorter cape, and manage to get your hands on a pair of gloves that go almost up to your elbows, seamlessly concealing your mark.

For the rest of your first day, King Valkyrie takes the time to show you how things work around the palace and to work out what your responsibilities will be during you stay.

"Do you have dinner plans?" Valkyrie asks when the sun sets.

You’re surprised by the question, "I just got here."

"Let me rephrase that, you are coming to dinner with me."

You can only nod obediently, "Okay."

You both take a short walk to a quaint little restaurant near the palace, as soon as you enter, your nostrils are invaded with the most delicious smell you've ever experienced.

A waiter soon greets The King, "Welcome, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, we're having the usual, please." Val walks you to what seems to be the table she always sits at in the far right corner of the building.

"We?" you repeat after you sit down.

"Yes, part of the benefit of being your boss is I get to decide what you eat," she jokes.

As you wait for your food, The King takes the opportunity to get to know you better. You’ve never been a fan of small talk, often opting for curt, sarcastic responses, and you can bet that this time will be no different.

"What do you like to do in your free time?"

Stare at a wall and rot, try not to think about dying alone. "I like to go on walks where I can be alone and reflect on life," you admit, surprising yourself, "what about you?"

"Drink," you hum in complete understanding, "I also enjoy visiting the children of The Kingdom and teaching them the ways of the sword, for recreational and self defense purposes." That's very sweet, you think.

"Do you enjoy children?"

"I suppose I don't really think of them as children, they're just small people." You're pleased by her answer, you never understood people belittling children merely for being small.

"You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, right? What drew you to the job?" she follows.

The prospect of an early death. "I guess I always felt that life could be more than just self serving, I wanted to help people."

She gives you a soft smile, "I may not have chosen my jobs, but I feel quite the same."

Maybe you aren't so good at lying to The King.

"What’s royalty like?" You feel an uncharacteristic interest towards her.

"Mostly paperwork these days, which is probably why Marv thought it would be best to have you around, cover all our bases."

"Do you ever miss being a warrior?"

"One does not stop being a warrior simply because there aren’t any more battles left to fight."

Are you telling me you’re a pacifist now? "Doesn’t mean you can’t miss it, though, some of the biggest pleasures of my job come in the form of being allowed to be violent," you snark, making her chuckle.

The food arrives, and you have your first taste, "Oh my God, this is even better than it smells!" You exclaim with your mouth full.

Valkyrie grins knowingly, a feeling of pride washing over her, "It’s a power move," you look at her, confused, "whenever I have a diplomatic visitor I bring them here and order for them, makes them more inclined to trust me."

"That’s pretty clever."

"I know," she smiles.

"Why are you telling me your secret tactic?"

She stops in the middle of taking a bite of her food, "I actually don't know, perhaps this time it worked in reverse."

Chapter Two

[bella-rose29]

Puppy

Request from anon:

hiiiii, first I wanna say that I enjoy reading your works, they're wonderful. <3

Now, I've seen you post about wanting Lockwood requests and I might have an idea. Lockwood and reader are in long-term relationship (they know each other since childhood, the reader is talentless but Lockwood comes to her when he need to relax/help with a plan/whatever), and no-one knows about the relationship besides them. And after some rough case when kipss crew had to help out, Lockwood and co and kipss crew are drinking in a bar to ease up (the reader works in the bar as part-time job) and in the drunken state Lockwood is even more confident than normally so someone makes a bet with him that he won be able to get a kiss out of the bartender (the reader) by the end of the night... I don't really know what after but maybe you'll be able to find a fluffy/funny ending to it?

I hope I'm making sense.

Have a nice day! :)))

First of all, thank you for the love anon, and I hope you have a nice day too!! <3

Second, I am completely in love with this idea (it's totally something Lockwood would do let's face it) and I had so much fun writing this!!!

Hopefully this lives up to expectations my lovely <3

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: descriptions of injury, fight scenes (with dead people), swearing, suggestive comments, drunken activities (mostly Lockwood), everybody is over 18 so they can legally drink in the pub

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list, let me know here <3

(not my gif <3)

Lockwood was tired.

He'd barely slept the night before, despite not having a case, and he'd barely eaten the whole day. It was nearing 7pm now, the sun having set over an hour ago and leaving the city in almost darkness. There would be no sleeping tonight, either, since he and his company had to tackle a Type One in an old lady's house. All Lockwood really wanted was to see her, and have her tell him stories about her day until he fell asleep in her arms, but he couldn't do that right now. Hopefully this would be done quickly, this job, so that he could get to hers before she went to sleep.

Lockwood and Co had been in the kitchen of Mrs Lovey's house for a while now, cups of tea left empty on the counter and the packet of biscuits finished off. Initial readings had been low, giving Lockwood hope that they really would be done quickly, and they'd made note of the likely places for the Source.

"Lockwood? You're staring into space again. You alright?"

He blinked back into reality, pulling himself out of his thoughts of warm rooms and soft kisses.

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I'm alright. Just surprised this Visitor hasn't turned up yet." He checked his watch. "Time for another reading in the living room?"

George nodded. "I'll go first."

The three of them headed in, rapiers at the ready.

"One degree. And a feeling of unease. It's definitely getting close to being here."

"Never mind close, I can see it," Lockwood whispered, taking up a defensive position.

"Yeah, I can hear it, too. Sounds like someone crying. I don't think this is a Type One either," Lucy added, and Lockwood couldn't help but agree.

"Any murders or anything happen here, George?"

"Not that I'm aware of, and I researched for days for this one. Didn't find anything out of the ordinary."

"Male or female, Luce? The voice."

"Uh, hang on, shut up a minute." She closed her eyes, focusing her efforts on Listening. "Male. Definitely. Sounds older, and like he's got some sort of trauma."

"Right. George, you figure out where the Source is. Lucy and I will watch it, make sure it doesn't go for you. Can either of you see it yet?"

"Not really. There's a sort of shiny mist over by that armchair, though," George said, pointing in the direction of the ratty old seat.

"Yeah, okay. That's where it is. Lucy?"

"Same as George. Getting stronger though. Maybe the chair is the Source?"

"Could be. George?"

"You're sure you've got my back, yeah? Because I really can't see it that well right now and I'd rather not die tonight."

"We're sure. Go on, have a poke around."

George did so, hesitantly getting closer to the chair and holding the scanner up. "Yeah, the Source is here somewhere." He prodded the side, and Lockwood saw Lucy flinch.

"It didn't like that at all. God, that was awful. Wait, George, don't-"

She slammed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the scream that even Lockwood could hear now.

"George, get the net," he cried out, rapier moving swiftly as the Visitor grew brighter and aimed for the head of the company.

"Incredibly clear visual, Lockwood! Lucy was right, it's definitely a Type Two!"

"GET THE NET, GEORGE!"

Lockwood had been backed into a corner, arm starting to ache from the continuous motion of the rapier holding off the ghost in front of him. Lucy had recovered (just about), and was picking up her rapier to help him. Sensing a second opponent, the ghost turned, and targeted Lockwood's coworker. The two of them spent the next few minutes sending the Visitor between them while George repeatedly chucked the net over various parts of the chair, expression growing more frantic each time.

"George, what's going on?!" Lucy shouted.

"It's not working! I don't think the chair is the Source! Or if it is, it's inside the chair!"

"Then get searching! Rip the whole bloody thing apart if you have to! But get on with it!" Lockwood gritted his teeth, fighting off the cold unease he felt flooding through his body. He thought of her, and her smile, and her laugh, and pushed back twice as hard against the Visitor. At some point he'd injured himself, the cut on his upper left arm bleeding slightly, but he couldn't think about that until the ghost was dealt with.

"GOT IT!" George shouted, voice triumphant. He slung the net around the object he'd found, and all at once the living room went silent apart from the heavy breaths of the three agents. The ghost disappeared, and the temperature started rising. George sat back on his knees and held the swaddled object up, bits of foam stuffing caught in his curls. "Knife, it's got blood on it. I'd wager she killed her husband. There was a cut already made in the back, made it easier to find." He looked vaguely manic, what with his wide grin and foam-covered hair, but Lockwood couldn't deny his gratitude for his weird friend.

"I reckon we need to have a chat with DEPRAC, then. Mrs. Lovey clearly doesn't live up to her name," he replied, smile matching George's.

~~~

Half an hour later, Lockwood was on his way to hers. He'd left George and Lucy in the taxi, telling them he had something to sort out and he'd be back later, and to not wait up for him, and had caught his own cab to his destination.

He dragged himself up the front steps, knocking on the front door, and couldn't help the smile that appeared when it swung open to reveal his girlfriend.

"Jesus Christ, you look like shit."

"Charming as ever, love. Can I come in?"

Y/n stepped to the side, giving him a peck on the lips as he went past. "Shoes off, then up to my room. I'll be there in a sec. Gimme your coat, I'll hang it up for you."

He pulled himself up to her room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her siblings, and collapsed on her bed.

"Look at you. You're like a puppy, all cute and cuddly."

He lifted his head as Y/n walked in, closing the door behind her with a soft click as she balanced a tray in her hands.

"Jacket off. And shirt."

"If you wanted me naked you could have just said so, darling." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, revelling in her blush.

"Shut up and strip, Anthony," she mumbled.

He complied, smirk turning into smile as he saw the medical supplies on the tray, right next to a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"What even happened?"

"Honestly? No clue. Type One turned out to be a Type Two murder victim though, so that was fun."

"You know, there are times I wish I had Talent. Then you come here looking like this and saying things like that and I wonder why I ever wanted it in the first place. Easy on the shirt, I think it's stuck." He'd winced trying to peel the fabric away from the wound, and Y/n immediately replaced his fingers with hers, touch gentle as she attempted to prise his shirt off. Sucking in air through her teeth as she got it off, Lockwood knew it was bad. It had been a dull throb the whole time he'd been travelling over, too exhausted to think about it more, but now that he had nothing else to think about the pain sharpened.

"This is gonna hurt, okay? I'm just gonna sterilise it, so try not to move. Three, two..." He waited for one, but before she got there, Y/n had placed the cotton wool on his arm, dabbing the alcohol on the wound. He gritted his teeth, asking her about her day. She spoke while she worked, cleaning it out and covering it in protective wrapping. Her voice distracted him, letting him lose himself in her words, and she was done before he knew it, pouring a cup of tea and offering it out to him. "Put this on," she said, passing over an old shirt of his that he left at hers specifically for times like this.

"Do you really want me to?"

"No, but if it means that when my parents inevitably walk in they don't kick you out forever, I'll live with it." He laughed slightly, placing the tea down and pulling the top on, careful not to disturb his wound.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? I'm perfectly capable of looking after my own injuries."

"I know," she shrugged, sitting down next to him on the bed. "But I don't mind. Just another excuse to be close to you, I guess."

"You don't need an excuse for that, love. You know I'll happily give you anything you like."

"Anything?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips, breaking away when their smiles got too wide.

"I thought you were going to make me dance naked in the street or something." Her eyes went wide as she took in his words.

"Oh my god, I am totally making you do that sometime."

He groaned, unable to fight the smile on his face as she peppered his cheeks with kisses, finally pressing one to his mouth.

"Remind me why I love you?"

"Because I'm amazing, and the most incredible person ever?"

He chuckled, kissing her again. "Yeah. You are."

~~~

"Where the hell have you been, Tony? We've been waiting for you!"

"Just had some last minute things to sort out, don't get your knickers in a twist, Kipps. Oh, thanks Luce," he said, smiling at the girl as she handed him a flask of tea. He'd actually been at Y/n's, spending time with her before her shift at the pub. He'd almost been late, her parents wanting him to stay for dinner (he had politely declined, reminding them that he had a job to go to as well as their daughter), and her younger siblings wanting him to play with them. Lockwood and Y/n's parents had been friends since before either of them were born, at one point the two families living next to each other on Portland Row, and it was only the arrival of the fourth baby five years ago that had made the L/n family move. It had only been natural that Anthony and Y/n started dating, having been childhood friends, and her parents were delighted at the pairing. Unfortunately that now meant that they wanted him to spend every spare minute at their house, which more often than not made him slightly late for work.

"I'm not wearing knickers," the older boy muttered indignantly, clearly unable to come up with a good enough retort.

"Oh, are these the files? Thanks George."

"Wait, have you not even read these?" Kipps said, eyebrows rising.

"Of course I have, just not the whole compiled thing. I'm not stupid." Kipps scoffed at that.

"Yeah, sure you're not, Tony. C'mon. Hurry up and read, we're late because of you and we need to set everything up before it gets dark."

~~~

Three hours later, the two teams were close to death.

Both in the sense that they were run ragged, energy severely depleted and bodies aching, and also in that they were completely surrounded by ghosts, Type Ones and Types Twos blocking every exit. The report had said that there were only meant to be two Spectres in the whole abandoned department store, but before it had even been properly dark Lucy had heard voices crying out and shouting, and Lockwood had seen death glows so bright he'd needed his sunglasses.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?!"

He was taking a break, eyes aching from the brightness surrounding them and arm protesting the weight of his rapier. He scanned the area, sure that Lucy would have his back for a moment, and spotted something through a gap in the Visitors.

"Lucy?"

"What?!"

"I need you to not kill me and cover me with flares."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to run through the ghosts."

"You're WHAT?!"

"What? What's he saying?" Kipps was trying to get closer to them, rapier cutting arcs into the air and not giving him much headway.

"You're impossible, you know that?" Lucy glared at him, grabbing some flares from her belt.

"Yep. Ready?" She threw, the magnesium creating a break in the swarm of ghosts large enough for Lockwood to cut through. He made it to the other side (although a near miss from a badly aimed flare made him think that Lucy was trying to hit him and not the Visitors), trying to block out the sounds of his team mates yelling as they fought swathes of the undead. He ducked under a chair that a poltergeist had thrown, dodging the knives hurled afterwards. Skidding to a halt in front of a large iron box filled with objects, the lid hanging open, Lockwood slammed it shut, throwing a net over the top for good measure and securing the edges. Within seconds the majority of the Visitors disappeared. A few still remained, including the two poltergeists, but the number was much better.

The two teams spent the next thirty minutes finding the various Sources of the remaining ghosts, all the while trying to not get hit by the items the poltergeists were throwing, and by the end of it when Kipps suggested going to the pub, nobody disagreed.

~~~

Lockwood and Co were in the taxi on their way to the pub when George piped up.

"Why'd you agree to going to the pub with Kipps? I would have thought you'd rather eat your own foot than spend more time with him."

"I need a drink, and he said he'd buy the first round. If it's free, I'll take it. I don't really care who's buying it, even if it's Kipps."

They clambered out the taxi, Lockwood paying the driver and jogging to catch up with the other two just as they entered the pub. Spotting Kipps' team already sat down, the three of them headed over, taking seats and giving their order to the older agent. Lockwood looked around, certain he recognised the building but unsure why, when his gaze caught on the girl behind the bar.

Ah.

Of course the pub Kipps picked was the one that Y/n worked at. Lockwood had been here before, which is why he thought it was familiar, but nobody knew about his relationship with the bartender. Kipps came back with the drinks then, one of the other servers following with the rest and asking for ID. Taking his first sip, Lockwood felt himself relax a little more, happy to not be going anywhere for a while after the gruelling job earlier.

~~~

"You," Lucy pointed at him, "are so drunk right now."

"Seriously, you cannot hold your alcohol, can you Tony?"

"Don't call me Tony, you prick." It was true that Lockwood was a lightweight, and he knew it, but he grumbled about the accusation anyway. Kipps only laughed, not doing much better than his rival in terms of handling alcohol, and took another swig of his beer.

"You're probably rubbish at picking up girls, too. Y'know, you're probably rubbish at every normal guy thing."

"Shut up, I can so pick up girls." He wasn't going to let Kipps tell him he was bad at anything.

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Amazing at it."

"Bet you can't get a kiss out the bartender though."

"Which one," he said, hoping Kipps would pick the right one.

"The one in the blue top, about your age. In fact, I am so confident you'll be shit at this, I'll bet ten quid you can't do it."

"Oh you're on," Lockwood said, knowing already he'd win the bet. Kipps had unknowingly picked Lockwood's girlfriend, and this would be the easiest ten pounds of his life.

"I'll bet a tenner too. I'm looking forward to watching you fail dramatically," Kat Godwin added, smirk on her face. Bobby placed his own bet, and soon enough there was fifty quid on the line, with George and Lucy agreeing with Kipps.

"Off you go, Lockwood," Lucy smiled, giving him a pat on the back. "Try not to traumatise the poor girl."

"Oh, just you all wait," he slurred, pointing a finger at them. "This is gonna be easyyyy." He headed for the bar, confidence filling him and giving him the ability to walk a lot straighter than he would otherwise have. He leaned forward on the wooden surface, fingers drumming against it. "Heyyy," he said, smiling up at his girlfriend as he slid (unsuccessfully) onto a stool.

"Hi... you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm great, and you," he wagged his finger at her, pausing for effect, "are gorgeous." He winked, and she suppressed a laugh, making him pout. "Why're you laughing? It's true!"

"Ant, honey, you are very drunk right now. Please go home," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles bursting out.

"But I can't go home," he said, suddenly very serious.

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"Because I need a kiss if I'm gonna go home." He puckered up immediately, leaning forward over the bar and closing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Anthony, stop it!"

"Aw, do you not wanna kiss me?" He pouted again, and Y/n couldn't stop her laughter anymore. Lockwood sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. "Well, I'm not going away until I get a kiss from the prettiest bartender person lady that I've ever seen, so you'll have to get used to me being here."

"Okay, alright! Lemme serve this customer, yeah?" She turned away, leaving Lockwood to stew in his seat at her lack of kisses. Waiting for her to come back to him felt like an eternity, and when she came around the bar to stand next to him, he perked up, half launching himself at her. "Woah! Hold on, Ant! Jesus!" He was still sat on the stool, Y/n being only slightly taller than him despite being stood up, and he pulled her between his legs, arms wrapping around her waist. "Wait, what about your friends? I thought they didn't know?"

"Don't care, jus' wanna kiss you. There's a share of fifty pounds in it for you," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows like he had a few weeks ago when she'd patched him up.

"Oh wow, you really love me, huh? Kissing me for money?" she asked sarcastically, but her eyes were warm. He nodded, dopey look on his face.

"Please? 'Cause Kipps said I can't pick up girls, and he bet money that I couldn't get a kiss out of you, and then the others bet money too, and mostly I wanna prove him wrong, but also I want the money so I can take you on the most amazing date in your life and get you ice cream."

"You are such a golden retriever puppy of a boyfriend, aren't you? Come here." She took his face in her hands, placing a few soft kisses on his mouth. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her closer to him, and Y/n had to brace a hand on the bar so that she didn't fall over from the awkward angle. When she pulled back, he chased her lips for a moment, opening his eyes slowly. His gaze was full of love, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

"I love you, Y/n/n."

"Love you too, Ant. Now get your fifty pounds and drink some water."

"Ugh, but water's boringgg," he complained, frown forming on his face. Y/n chuckled, kissing the crease between his eyebrows.

"I'll give you more than kisses when you come over on Saturday if you sober up." Lockwood stopped frowning immediately, and Y/n could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him.

"Where's the water?"

~~~

"Shit, how'd you do that, Tony?"

Lockwood shrugged. "I'm just really good at picking up girls."

"Sure, is that vodka?"

"Nope, water."

"Why have you got that?" Kipps wrinkled his nose, handing over his portion of Lockwood's winnings.

"Because she told me to drink it," he said, sipping the liquid through the straw he'd asked for (it made drinking boring things more fun, he'd told Y/n).

"Uh... okay?"

"Yeah. I feel like- hang on, Lucy, where's your tenner? Thanks. I feel like it's a little bit unfair, the bet, 'cause she is actually my girlfriend, but- no, you can't take the money back! You made a bet! No take-backs! But thanks anyway."

"So you can't pick up girls!" Kipps shouted, thinking he'd finally found something Anthony Lockwood couldn't do.

"Well technically I can, 'cause I had to pick her up in the first place to get her to be my girlfriend, and also she's not that heavy, so I can definitely pick her up if she doesn't wriggle too much. I know 'cause I've done it before."

Kipps groaned. "Wait... she just told you to drink water, so you are?"

"Yep. She's very persuasive. Basically said that if I drink it all then when I go to her house on Saturday we're gonna have sex," he said casually.

Everybody around the table choked on their drinks.

[bookishzelda]

I Think We're Alone Now

Marty McFly x reader

This is a small, very fluffy Y/N fic inspired by the song I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany! Hope you enjoy it!

"This is a wonderful dinner, Mrs. McFly," you say, poking at the last few bites of lasagna on your plate.

"Thank you, Y/N," Lorraine replies, giving you a small smile. You return it, glad to be on her good side for now.

You glance over at Marty, who’s working on his third helping. His blue eyes meet yours with a smirk; then under the table you feel him reach to touch your leg, squeezing your knee gently. You smile down at your plate until you hear Lorraine clear her throat. You look up to see her glaring at Marty, and he withdraws his hand, resting it on the table instead. You sigh mentally. How does that woman always know?

Marty was always complaining about his conservative parents, but it wasn't until recently, when you had started coming around to his house for dinner or homework, that you had been on the receiving end of his mother's disapproval. While Lorraine had never been overtly mean or rude to you, there always seems to be a tension between the two of you; and although Marty doesn't say anything about what she says about you at home, you get the impression that its not particularly positive. As a result, displays of affection between you and Marty are always clandestine, snatched in moments when Lorraine's back is turned. More often than not, you get caught by someone.

You throw a sideways glance at Marty, who rolls his eyes and shrugs. You smile back and return to your food.

When everybody’s finished, you stand up, saying, “I’ll help with the dishes, Mrs. McFly.”

“Thank you, Y/N, that would be great,” she replies.

“Aw, Mom, come on; she’s a guest,” Marty protests.

“I don’t mind, Marty,” you say.

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to.” Slipping an arm around your shoulders, he says, “Hey, Dad, Y/N shouldn’t have to wash dishes, should she?”

George looked up from where he was staring at the TV. “What? Oh, oh, no, it’s fine, it’s all… fine.”

“All right, then you’ll help me, George?” Lorraine says.

Marty slips out of the room, leading you by the arm down the hall. “What are you thinking?” he hisses, pulling you into a corner of the hall.

“I’m trying to stay on your mom's good side,” you whisper. “I figured I could earn some points with her.” “Yeah, but if you’re in there doing dishes,” he argues, brushing a lock of hair from your face, “we can’t do this.” He brings his lips to meet yours, letting his hands rest on the back of your neck. You shut your eyes and bring your hands to his sides. His touch is gentle, making you melt.

You hear someone cough pointedly behind you and immediately break away from each other, whipping around to face whoever caught you. Linda is watching you, arms folded.

“Do you mind not doing that where I have to see it?” she drones.

Marty narrows his eyes. “Then don’t look.”

“I need to get into my room, but I’d prefer to know you two aren’t making out right outside my door.”

“Come on, Linda, you know Mom would kill me if I had Y/N in my room,” he whines, rubbing your shoulder. “There’s nowhere else to go.”

“Not my problem,” she shrugs.

You sigh, grabbing Marty’s hand. “It’s okay, Marty. Maybe we can slip into the garage.”

“Don’t bother. Dave’s having some friends over in there.”

You let out a grunt of frustration. Why does it always seem like his whole family is trying to keep you apart?

Marty leads you to the other end of the hall, shoving past Linda. Once you’re out of her line of fire, he looks down at you and whispers, “Well, Y/N… it looks like we’ll just have to find our own place.” His eyes twinkled eagerly, like a little boy’s, bringing a smile to your face. Although you’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about, you squeeze his hand and say, “I’m in.”

You follow him through the house, letting him open the front door as he yells, “Mom, Dad, we’re going for a walk!”

You’re both out the door fast enough that you can pretend not to hear her call, “Just a minute, Marty!”

Marty grabs his skateboard, which is leaning against the wall of the front porch, along with a spare, which he had used to teach you how to ride. He tosses one to you, and you run down to the street, laughing. You both drop your skateboards on the asphalt and push off, heading for the gate. You’re not quite as fast as Marty, but you push furiously as you grab onto his hand, feeling the wind in your hair.

You let Marty lead the way, trusting that he had an actual plan. He keeps a grip on your hand the whole way, leading you along sidewalks and through intersections. You close your eyes for a brief moment, relishing this spontaneous escape.

When finally he lets go of you and cruises to a stop, you realize you’re at the entrance of Hill Valley’s main park. After hiding the skateboards, he grabs your hand again, and says with that same eye twinkle, “Let’s go.”

You have no choice but to follow as he takes off running. Your legs pump furiously to stay beside him, feet pounding on the grass. You both run toward the middle of the park, finally coming to a stop at the top of a low hill. As you stand there to catch your breath, Marty throws his arms around you and pulls you both to the ground so that you land in a heap. You laugh, rolling off of him and onto the ground. You face him and he puts a finger to your lips.

“Listen,” he says.

You obey, trying to pick out the noise. You can hear cars in the far distance, and a dog barking somewhere in the park, but that’s about it. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” he grins, pulling you closer. “I think we’re finally alone.”

You smile, draping an arm over his shoulder. “Finally,” you echo.

“No more of my family watching our every move… no one to tell us what to do… no one to keep us from doing this.” With those words he brings his lips to yours. You let yourself get lost in his kiss, putting your hands on his shoulders. His hands wander to your waist, gently pulling you closer to himself, letting your kiss become heavier.

When finally you break apart, you’re breathless. You gaze at him to see his beautiful, blues eyes shining in the evening light. You smile through a blush and say, “I’m glad we could get away.”

“Me, too,” he says, cupping your cheek with his gentle hand. Your eyes flutter closed as his fingers stroke your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers.

You flush so hard you worry he might burn his hand. “So are you.”

He smirks. “I’m serious. I think destiny brought us together.”

You plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re adorable, you know that?” you say, rubbing your nose against his.

Marty weaves his fingers through your hair and closes the small space between your mouths with a soft, slow kiss. The tenderness in his touch makes your whole heart melt. When he lets you go, you touch your forehead to his, running your hand through his unbelievably soft hair and breathing in his familiar cologne.

“Marty,” you whisper. That’s all you can think to say before he draws you in for another kiss.

The two of you lie on the grass for nearly an hour, his arms wrapped securely around you, exchanging kisses and caresses as night begins to fall. At last he kisses the top of you head and says, “We should probably leave.”

You pout dramatically. “I don’t wanna leave,” you complain.

Marty chuckles, kissing your hair again. “Come on, Y/N, I’m probably in trouble as it is; I don’t need to get deeper in for staying out too late.”

You gaze at his face, lit by the last rays of sun and the florescent streetlight overhead. “Fine,” you say, rolling away from his embrace and standing up. The sudden separation from his body heat makes you acutely aware of the chill in the evening air, and a shiver runs through your body. You’d forgotten to grab your coat when you rushed out.

“Cold?” Marty asks.

You shrug. “Maybe a little.”

“Here,” he replies, slipping off his denim jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. You slide your arms through the sleeves.

“Thanks,” you say.

“Of course,” he replies, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you to his side. As you walk, he lightly kisses your hair and rests his cheek against the top of your head.

When you reach the park’s exit, you both grab the skateboards that you had stashed in a bush. However, you don’t put you’d on the ground. “No reason to rush,” you say, taking his hand again. He smiles down at you, squeezing your hand tenderly.

The two of you walk home in comfortable silence. All too soon the lion statues marking the entrance to his neighborhood come into view. Stepping up into his porch, he finally lets go if your hand and turns to face you. “Ready to go back to reality?” he asks.

You sigh internally, depressed that the spell is about to be broken. “Yeah.”

Marty reaches to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Your breath catches as his hand lingers, before he lifts your chin and softly touches his lips to yours.

All too soon he pulls away and opens the front door, ushering you both back into the real world of noise, scowls, and judgmental family members.

[shurisleftearring]

Green Eyes

I am so scared posting this but here it is, my first part (maybe). Any grammar or plot suggestions are welcomed, but please be nice. Not sure if I wanna include smut in this story or not idk. Anyways, thanks for reading, and enjoy! :) (Also how the fuck do I work this damn app? I am so fucking confused it’s sad fr)

But I don’t love you anymore, I’m so insecure, never knew that love did this…

Word count: 1k+

Pairing: Shuri x Black!fem!reader

Summary: Five years. It’s been five years since the blip. And even longer since you’ve been in a relationship. Maybe it’s for the best. The last time you were in a relationship, it just ended in disarray. But, when your ex comes back into your life, can you start over and do it again? Or try to move on with an unexpected love?

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n c’mon, you are slow!”

You were always late. You can never make it to anything on time. That’s what you need to change. You somehow wake up 5 hours before and still end up 10-15 minutes late.

“I’m coming damn, hold up.”

“Girl, I need you to make this on time, the board offered us amazing positions at Stark Industries and WE.CANNOT.BE.LATE.” 

At this point you were rushing to get your hair together, your makeup on, and your fit. You had a very boring style, but sometimes you surprised people. 

“Is this okay?”

“Girl, it’s fine. Now c’monn”

“Ok ok damn”

______________________________________________________________

By the time you got there, you had one minute left. You used that minute to scope the place out. Can’t even lie, it was beautiful. All of those good-looking drinks, food, people. You were in awe. 

“Damn, this place is nice!” You said.

“Girl, I know we're in the big money now!” Kaira said.

You and your close co-worker friend get guided to the huge table in the back. When you see the table everybody is already there. You look around and your heart drops to you stomach. It's her. At first, you had no idea who she was, she had changed so much. She dresses more masculine now, she has sides of her hair cut, and she has on grillz. You are wondering where the hell she knows about those. Back when y'all used to “date”, y'all were both young and didn’t know shit.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“What did you say, girl?” Kaira said.

“Oh nothing”

You were freaking out inside. Lost in your thoughts. Your memories of her. You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t notice that she he saw you too.  She almost spat her drink out. She didn’t even recognize you.

“Damn, she's fine. Do you know her Shuri?” Peter said.

“...No,” Shuri said, looking away from your curvaceous body.

“Mm, well I’m going to go over there and introduce myself” 

“Don’t you have Mj?”

“Well…she doesn’t remember me. Our love can wait”

Shuri rolled her eyes and they landed on you. She saw how beautiful you became. Your braces were gone and got a skincare routine. She saw how your body grew into its grown woman body. Your thighs, hips, and breasts were just too mesmerizing.  She was shamelessly  checking you out, not caring who saw. You were trying to look distracted when you accidentally locked eyes with Shuri. Her gaze suddenly made you weak in the knees. You didn’t even notice that you were about to run into a waiter. You ran into the waiter, the gaze broken. She started chuckling, not realizing how powerful her stare was. She guessed that’s how she got all those models so easily. You apologized to the waiter and walked to your seat, trying to get some dignity back.

“Girl, are you ok?” your co-worker friend asked.

“Yeah. I’m good Kaira”

“I swear you always trippin’ somewhere” she said laughing.

You laughed praying that no one saw that. You looked and saw that you were sitting in between Okoye and Kaira.  Thank god you weren’t sitting next to her. But, across from her was even worse. Her staring just got more intense by the second. You tried to focus as Pepper Potts-Stark began. 

“Well, now that we have everyone here, welcome. I hope we get a lot of things accomplished in these upcoming years, as you know the people are still-”

You were tryna listen, but you could feel her stare lingering on you. It makes your stomach churn and do somersaults.

“-Now, to focus on the positive things, I have decided to hire more people on the personal Avengers team. Welcome y/n and Kaira!”

You and Kaira stood up. Everyone clapped and said welcome. Kaira was eating up the attention thankfully. 

“Well, if a pile of paperwork and deadlines to meet is a ‘ welcome’, then I’ll accept it,” Kaira said as people started chuckling.

“Ah, yes, as you can see, the team is very happy to see new people joining, but don’t let them bully you, okay?” Pepper said, winking. 

“Oh, trust me I won’t,” You said.

“We’ll see about that sweetness,” Thor said.

You cringed at that. Men being men. The people at the table saw the discomfort on your face.

“Ok, enough guys. They’ve already experienced your ‘warm’ welcome” Shuri said. 

“Not Shuri defending them. She must like one of them.” Peter said, drinking his drink.

Chuckles filled the room after he said that. He was honestly right but she was too prideful to accept it. 

“Peter do not test me” She looked at Peter and he just drunk his drink and tried to hide his face. 

“Ooo Shuri is going to mess him up” 

“He's always talking he needs to shut up”

______________________________________________________________

A few hours later,  everything was done. You and Kaira signed everything and promised to sign an NDA until your contract expires. Now people were just talking. You didn’t like being in boring places, but that was your life lately. Boring ass places. 

“Girl, I am ready to go, I love networking, but damn it sure does make you tired.” 

“Amen girl, I'm gonna crash at your place, is that okay?” You said

“Yeah, that’s fine. Also, I saw Her Majesty staring at you. Does she know you?” 

 You were trying not to show the sudden panic on your face.

“...Not Really…” 

“Mhm, yeah ok.”

Kaira knew when you were lying. She knew you like the back of her hand. She always knew when you were sad, angry, happy, and when you were lying.

Y’all were leaving, laughing and chatting about how your first day would go. While walking, you notice a nice vintage 1964 Ferrari 250 GTO. Your mouth was wide open. 

“Kaira look!” you said

Kaira looked and her mouth went wide open as well. 

“Shit….that’s your dream car!” she squealed.

“I know! It’s so beautiful!” 

“Excuse me” 

You turned around and were moving out of the way when you saw it was Shuri. Her voice felt like butter, and you could smell her amazing vanilla perfume since she was close. 

“Ooooo” Kaira mumbled.

Kaira was never any help. She was a proud instigator. 

“Oh- Umm we're sorry, we-”

“It’s all good love, you were just admiring right?”

“Right”

Love. You haven't heard that word in a long time. She said so casually like you were still with her. 

But you weren’t. 

______________________________________________________________

6-7 years ago

“Sher please? You've known my friends for a while now. You said it yourself you trusted them!"

“Love, no. Besides I don’t like you hanging around Daniel anyways”

You groaned. “Shuri, we don’t like each other”

“You still like men"

You knelt down to her level. “But not that man. I don't like any men, just you” You pressed your lips on hers, her jealousy slowly drifting away. You loved moments like these. Her being putty in your hands.

“Ok fine. You can go. Only, you have to make sure that you call me every hour”

“Oh my God, you are so obsessive”

“It’s called keeping you safe”

“No one knows we're dating. I’ll be fine” You said, kissing her forehead. 

“Mhm. Still, I want you to call me”

“Ok my love see you soon~” You went out the door and to one of your best friends arms for a hug.

"You ready to go girl?"

"Yes! I am so excited!"

"I'm surprised that Shuri even let you out"

"Haha, now hurry and let's get to this festival!" You squealed in excitement.

[husbandomail-archive]

hello I have returned! thank you everybody for your patience while my family moved; we’re still not entirely settled in, but I’m slowly reaching the point where I can resume writing. so here’s what I’ve been working on!

Idia/reader

in which he can’t see the screen.

“—damn! Again?! Isn’t that the same place as last time, too?” You sighed from your position on Ignihyde��s floor, shoving your hand into a bag of chips as you glanced back over your shoulder at your gaming partner. “You okay back there, Idia? Do we need to stop and level grind?”

As he made eye contact with you, Idia’s face and the tips of his hair turned pink. He shifted on the couch, crossing his legs and lifting his computer into his lap. “There’s no time for that,” he mumbled, chewing on his bottom lip, “The event ends soon, and we still don’t have enough materials to craft another set of that armor—” His voice slowly trailed off as he busied himself with the on-screen menus.

You stretched a bit, twisting your body until it was easier to stare up at him from your little next of pillows on the floor. The two of you had been trying this raid even for hours with no luck. Now, if you had been playing this game by yourself, or even if you’d used the lobby to team up with randos, your lack of success would make perfect sense— but no, you were playing with Idia. That’s what made this string of failures so suspicious.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Idia?”

He huffed, and a strand of hair went flying away from his face. “I’m fine,” he said, although it didn’t sound very convincing. One of his hands came up to comb his flickering bangs from his eyes, but the blue embers were insistent on hanging directly in his line of sight.

No wonder you guys kept losing— he couldn’t see the screen.

Laying there propped up on your side, you watched Idia for a quiet moment, enjoying the soft sounds of his keyboard as he blatantly tried to avoid looking at you. His long blue hair cascading down his shoulders, flickering endlessly as his delicate hands continued to brush it aside, the flames melding at his touch—

Your own fingers twitched. What did his hair feel like?

Idia glanced up at you from underneath his bangs. His hair changed color again, more soft threads of pink appearing when he realized he still had your attention. His painted mouth pulled into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that! We only lost because of RNG— let’s try again.”

“Let’s take a break, actually,” you stretched again, finally pulling yourself up onto your knees, trying to rub the screen-strain from your eyes.

Idia winced at even the slightest rejection, but he nodded, setting his computer down on the couch cushions and vaguely turning in your direction. “—what are we doing now, then? A different game? A movie?”

“Don’t you think you need a haircut?”

Idia jolted backwards immediately, his spine pressed into the back of the couch, eyes going wide as his hair paled to almost the same shade as his skin. “St— hey, stay back! No scissors!”

A beat of silence, followed by a laugh that bubbled its way out of your throat. You almost doubled over at the expression on his face. “That’s not what I meant!” It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but as soon as you did, you waved off Idia’s concerns. “I’m just making conversation, Idia. You should try it sometime.”

Without waiting for a response, you untangled yourself from your nest of pillows sprawled across the floor, stepping over to where you’d dropped your bag hours ago. Idia’s eyes widened yet again as he watched you fumbling through your bag, clearly looking for something specific. “...Hey, you’re not gonna—”

“Calm down,” you said gently. Once your hands closed around what you were looking for, you pulled them from your bag slowly, as if trying not to startle a skittish pet. “I’m not gonna cut your hair.”

“But you do intend to do something.” His eyes narrowed at you. No point in dodging that accusation, because it was true; you held up the bundle of personal treasures from your bag, letting Idia examine them before you made any sudden moves.

Hair ties. Decorative barrettes. That small brush you always forgot you were carrying.

“Let me put your hair up, Idia.”

The dorm leader sat quietly for a moment, his sharp eyes flickering between your hands and your face; if you looked any closer, you’d be able to see his own hands trembling. What kind of dating sim scene is this turning into—?

“Okay.” He immediately pressed a hand to his mouth, as if to catch the word before it fell. You had clearly already heard him, though— your face lit up in a way that made his chest twist.

“Really?! You’ll let me?” Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to say yes.

Idia turned his face away from you as if to hide his blush, although that did nothing against the kaleidoscope of his hair colors. “—hurry up before I change my mind!”

You nodded happily, stepping around the couch to stand behind him. He’d agreed so much easier than you’d expected, so you’d better take the chance while you have it.

Sitting in front of you, Idia shifted nervously; for someone with anxiety, being able to feel but not see a person behind him sent adrenaline through his veins, even though he knew it was just you. He began to turn his head so he could stare back at you over his shoulder, but your warm hands landed gently on the side of his face, directing him to stare forward again. “Sit still,” you chided— and then finally, you began to run your fingers through the ethereal flames he called his hair.

The first thing you noticed was that it didn’t burn. In fact, the flames weren’t even warm. You hummed in vague surprise as you twisted a few strands around your fingers, admiring the texture, memorizing the color. When the sound left your throat, Idia shifted again.

“Wh— what’s that noise supposed to mean?” He tried to sound demanding, but his voice wavered and he winced; talk about undermining himself.

“Nothing bad,” you assured him, continuing to fiddle with the ends of blue strands. “I’m just surprised— it looks like fire, but being able to touch it is just so…”

Idia leaned further back against the couch and tilted his head to look up at you, bemusement painted across his face. The movement sent his long hair shimmering like a waterfall over the back of the sofa. “Of course it’s not as hot as regular flames,” he said, “do you have any idea how uncomfortable that would be?”

You laughed lightly at that and nudged his head forward again.

You took your time running fingers through his dancing flames— never knew if you’d get this chance again, after all. As your nails gently dragged along Idia’s scalp, he let out a soft sigh and leaned back into your touch, his shades of blue beginning to flicker lavender instead. Experimentally, you began to gather as much as you could hold in one hand, to see if a ponytail would work.

When your nails gently scraped against the nape of his neck, Idia shuddered. His eyes flew open— when had he closed them?— and he jolted forward, the movement dragging his hair out of your grasp. “Watch it,” he bit out, although there was no real force behind his voice.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hummed, although it was fairly obvious you weren’t sorry at all. As Idia grumbled and settled back against the couch, you decided to move on from just playing with his hair. He’d get restless if you didn’t actually get to work, after all. You picked up your small brush in one hand, regathering his hair in the other. “Are you tender-headed?”

“...I don’t know,” he admitted, “It’s not like I brush it often.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you said lightly. Before he could bite back, you ran the brush through Idia’s hair, and any remaining snark died on his tongue. Instead, he gasped sharply, leaning back into the feeling.

Brushing his hair was an odd feeling for both of you. His flames were, of course, tangible enough to hold, but they weighed practically nothing in your hand, and there was no resistance as your dragged the bristles through his blue waves.

For his part, Idia felt like he was actually on fire this time. Since his hair was so fluid, he’d never felt the need to pay much attention to it; the feeling of a brush was already fairly foreign to him, but knowing you were the one brushing it for him sent a current of electricity up his spine and back again.

He squirmed in place, messing up your progress. You twisted a strand between your fingers again, tugging sharply so he felt the brief sting on his scalp, earning a hiss from his throat. “Sit still,” you ordered; Idia huffed, but obeyed.

As one of your hands pulled the brush through his long hair, your other hand came up to play with the shorter strands closer to his face. Some of them were tucked behind his ear, or gathered into place where the brush could drag them along; others, you detangled with your fingers, arranging them to frame his pretty face. Your fingertips gently ghosted along the edge of his jaw and Idia shivered again.

Folded in his lap, Idia’s hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. He tapped his fingers against his knees, he pressed his fingertips together, he folded and unfolded the hem of his shirt— all the while, his hair changed color back and forth, threads of shy pink and purple following the trail of your hands like waves returning to shore.

“—is this comfortable?” You asked quietly, as to not shattered the gentle atmosphere that had settled over his dorm room, resting on your shoulders.

Idia was silent for a moment, long enough that you almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep. When he did finally speak up, his voice sounded a bit dazed. “It’s fine.”

It was more than fine— he leaned into your touch like a cat trying to convince you it had been ignored all day. When he thought about it— and thinking straight was damn hard, with your hands in his hair— Idia couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched at all, actually.

The brush in your hands changed direction all at once. Instead of running downwards to detangle the bright embers, you twisted his hair and lifted it away from his neck, running the brush upwards along the underside, preparing to shape it into a proper ponytail. Idia couldn’t help himself— his eyes rolled, and a soft sound clawed its way out of his throat. You stopped immediately, and he could feel your presence getting heavier behind him as you leaned closer.

“Idia? Was that a—?”

“Shut up!” He bit out. He practically doubled over on the couch, propping his arms up on his knees so he could bury his face in his hands. His hair betrayed him yet again, every single lock of flame flaring the brightest pink you’d ever seen. You had to press a hand to your mouth in order to stifle a laugh.

Idia groaned into his hands. “I want to reload this scene and pick a different dialogue option.”

You bit your tongue in order to regain control of your voice. “It’s okay to enjoy this, y’know. Can I keep going?” You gently twisted another strand between your thumb and index finger, sending a wave of goosebumps across his pale skin. Idia let out a shaky breath— but in the end, he nodded, and you could feel your face light up again.

Gathering his hair in your hand once more, you brushed it into a loose ponytail at the crown of his head, gently tugging it into several different positions to decide which worked best. “Your hair is so pretty, Idia,” you hummed as you set the brush to the side. Before grabbing a hair tie, you took the chance to scratch your nails at the nape of his neck once more, messing with the tiny flickering baby embers. Idia moaned again, much less shy about the sound that time.

You combed all his hair into your hand once more, making sure you didn’t miss any of the longer strands, and then finally snatched up one of your hair ties to secure everything into place. Once that was done, your hands landed on his shoulders, making Idia jump; he tilted his head back again to stare up at you with wide eyes.

“Is that it?” he asked, a hint of confusion creeping into his voice. “That wasn’t nearly as HP-draining as I thought it would be/”

You snickered a bit and tugged on another long strand of his hair, just hard enough to earn yourself a cute little whine. “Hang on, I’ve gotta add a final touch.”

Before he could protest, you’d gathered your barrettes and hair clips and swept his bangs away from his forehead, pinning them in place with a string of colored butterflies. “There,” you said happily, “you should be able to see the screen now.”

Once you’d moved back, Idia scrambled to grab his laptop. It had fallen asleep, so the screen was dark, and he used that to examine his reflection. When he moved, his long hair swished; as he stared at his reflection, his hand came up to run his thumb across the butterfly clips.

Idia turned back to you with a huff and a pout. “Open your inventory again,” he demanded, “I want a different accessory.”

[stationintern]

Hello there!

July is a rainy month here in the mountains, but these fics felt like a ray of sunshine! I’m back with another favorites list, and very proud that I remembered to do this. Let’s go!

A Savior’s Guide to Manners and Decorum - E, 13k by @wolfpants

I think putting Draco Malfoy in any sort of teaching position is a recipe for perfection. So, that was a major factor in my enjoyment of this fic. Everything I’ve read from wolfpants has been incredible (I read Nightcall at least twice a month), and this did NOT disappoint. If you like a bumbling Harry with obscure hobbies, this is the fic for you.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night In Soho) - E, 65k by @writcraft and @celilasart for Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018

I saw this fic recommended left and right on the Drarry writers discord, and it’s been sitting in my marked for later forever. And, boy, do I wish I’d read it earlier. The art is BEAUTIFUL. I stared at it for about ten minutes. I’m a sucker for two lost souls finding their calm together in the eye of the storm, and I’ve been yearning for another fic that explores queer history as it pertains to the magical world. In conclusion, this was everything I needed. A rainy night for a rainy season.

Grounds For Divorce - E, 122k by @tepre

This is another one of those fics that I’ve seen recommended everywhere but just hadn’t gotten to yet. Fics that cover long periods of time hold a special place in my heart, and the journey I got to experience while reading this left me breathless by the time I was finished. I can’t wait to read it again.

Up The - E, 7k by @shiftylinguini

I’m not a big mpreg reader, not for any particular reason, but this fic was so sweet. The premise was hilarious and ridiculously fitting for these two. Love an established relationship, love a nutty plan to get pregnant. Loved it.

Faint Indirections - T, 29k by ignatiustrout

It’s so fun whenever I get to explore a new city with this pair. God, this was so fucking hilarious. Watching these two communicate in the least efficient way possible tickled me and I will be thinking about this fic for a very long time.

to be a bit of warmth (for you) - M, 9k by @softlystarstruck

This was just the sweetest thing I’ve read in a very long time. The intimacy, the characterization. How the author managed to pack so much beauty into 10k words is a mystery that I thank god for every day.

on open wounds - M, 16k by asofthaven

extremely loud growling noises (positive.) read this in my honda accord while eating a quesadilla and watching drunk rodeo goers mill about the town square and felt more emotions than i’ve ever felt before in my life. thank you. thank you thank you thank you.

Everybody Hates a Tourist - E, 51k by @wolfpants for @hd-wireless 2023

As I said before, I love getting to explore a city with these two, and watching Harry find himself with a Draco who has built a life for himself is something I will never get sick of. Especially when every bit of it is absolutely baffling for Harry. So excited to find out who wrote this. I enjoyed every second of it. (Should’ve known it was wolfpants! So, so good!)

Well, that’s all for now, folks! These fics helped with my July gloom, and I’m so thankful for all the wonderful writers in this community who gift us these beautiful stories.

See you next month with more recs!

xx, Moon.

[cursedwoman1859]

Careful What You Wish For (Silco/F!Reader/Finn)

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 4.7k

Content: Threesome (MFM); oral sex (M recieving); PiV, light D/s; rough sex; humiliation; genital piercings. No beta we die like finns dignity

Summary: Finn steps out of line at a meeting and Silco enlists your help in reminding him of his place.

AO3 Link

-

Chem baron assemblies weren’t the worst part of your job as Silco’s assistant, but they were up there.

It should have been fascinating, getting to sit in on Zaun’s equivalent of the council meetings. Every person in the room with you controlled their own little slice of the Undercity with an iron fist – whether that meant the chem trade, body mods, brothels, or webs of spies and informants who could find out anything about anybody for the right price. But more often than not, meetings devolved into petty squabbling over territory and who owed what to whom – and you had to sit there and take minutes through all of it.

Your only consolation was that Silco made it clear he hated these meetings as much as you did.

Today’s assembly had dragged on longer than usual, and you were relieved to be packing up at last. You just had to finish the notes you were making, and then you’d be free. A few of the chem barons had already left, though Silco was still hashing out the details of a Shimmer production deal with Renni. Sevika was leaning against the door by the elevator, looking bored out of her mind, and you were about to go over to her when a shadow fell across your notebook.

“I haven’t noticed you here before,” a familiar voice said, and you looked up with your brows already raised. Finn was one of the newer chem barons, and you had to wonder whether his affected swagger and bold fashion choices were compensation for the fact that he had inherited his position and everybody knew it.

“I’m always here. I’m Silco’s assistant.”

“I know,” said Finn, leaning on the edge of your desk, caging you in, “but I never noticed you.”

The desk you used was in a corner of the room, and Finn was blocking the only exit. You sighed, finishing what you’d been writing and capping your pen. You were not in the mood for this, but you plastered a polite smile on your face regardless. “Then I’m doing my job well, aren’t I?”

Not to be deterred, Finn only leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low purr. “I wouldn’t shove you in a corner and make you take notes all day, is all I’m saying. Nah, if you worked for me, I’d have you sat right next to me where everyone can see, and I’d—”

“I like my corner, thank you,” you said curtly before Finn could finish that thought, snapping your leather-bound notebook closed. It had been a gift from Silco, and the black cover bore a bright pink doodle of his insignia, courtesy of Jinx. “I like my job, too.” You glanced over at your boss. He was still talking with Renni, leaned back in his seat with a cigar smoking steadily in his hand and smoke drifting out from his lips as he spoke, but as if he could sense you looking at him his gaze flicked over to you, just for the briefest second. That relieved some of the tightness in your throat. Finn could be as pushy as he liked, and you could handle him, but Silco or Sevika would step in if you needed someone with a little more sway to scare Finn off.

It wasn’t yourself you were afraid for.

“Okay,” Finn said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. His eyes raked over you, and you realised that from this angle he probably had a pretty good view down the front of your blouse. “But you’re done working now, right? How about you come with me and I’ll show you how I’d appreciate having someone like you with the Slickjaws. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You stood abruptly, but Finn still didn’t back off. If anything, he only leaned closer while you packed your things away, and his too-heavy cologne made your nose twitch. “Thanks, Finn, but I’m not interested.”

Finn only drew himself taller, tilting his head as he gazed down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. The top one, anyway. “Fine, you wanna be like that, I get it. You’re a classy lady, I can see that. Guess that’s why you like working for Silco so much. I’ll take you to dinner first.”

You glanced back at Silco, and your throat tightened when your eyes met his. Renni was reading over some contract with her own assistant, but he was no longer paying attention. You wondered how long he’d been watching, letting Finn dig his own grave. The other chem baron was a dumbass, but he probably didn’t deserve whatever was coming if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Finn, I told you I’m not interested. Now please let me go home.” You tilted your chin up and put as much steel into your voice as you could.

But Finn wasn’t going to be deterred by your words. “Alone?” he said, leaning down into your space, his arm on the desk still caging you in.

“Yeah, alone,” you said, your patience wearing out. Fuck it. It wasn’t like Silco was going to punish you for giving as good as you got. Especially not to Finn. “Now let me pass or I’ll screw your jaw shut.”

To your dismay, Finn only laughed, his sleek curtain of hair swaying as he tipped his head back. “Oh, she bites! I knew you had some fire in there somewhere. I like them feisty.”

Of course he does. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling the weight of your brass knuckles in your pocket. Another gift from Silco – he’d wanted you to be able to protect yourself, even if you weren’t much of a fighter, and he’d reasoned that it would be hard for an assailant to take them and use them against you, so you’d have time to run. You’d never actually used them, and trying them out on Finn would definitely be taking it too far, but they were a comforting presence in your pocket nonetheless.

But a sharp call of your name cut across the lame response you’d been about to give, and relief made your shoulders sag. Silco was shrugging on his coat, his business with Renni concluded (and not to the other chem baron’s favour, judging by the sour expression on her face). “Come. We’re leaving.”

At last Finn stepped aside, his eyes roving over you one last time as you passed. “You know where to find me when the old man gives you a day off, baby.”

Ugh. “Keep dreaming, Finn,” you muttered as you hurried over to where Silco and Sevika were waiting by the elevator, and you didn’t miss the glare your boss shot Finn before he turned on his heel and stalked through the ornate doors of the assembly room.

“Please tell me you weren’t flirting with Finn,” Sevika said once the elevator was rumbling down to street level.

You glanced at Silco before you responded. He was quiet, his mismatched gaze fixed on something in the distance, and you could almost see the plans formulating behind his eyes like clouds gathering before a storm. “No way,” you said to Sevika. “He was just trying his luck. I bet kissing him is like licking a brass doorknob.”

That made Sevika chuckle, and you thought even Silco’s lips twitched up for a second, but it could have just been the lights from outside shifting as the elevator descended. He said nothing on the way down, but you could tell he wasn’t happy. You couldn’t begin to guess what he was planning, but the thought that Finn would soon be feeling the wrath of the Eye of Zaun was more exciting than it should have been.

-

A few days later, you had your answer.

Silco called you to his office towards the end of the day, when the bar downstairs was starting to empty and the sliver of sky you could see from the street was lightening, dawn turning the neon haze that bathed the city sickly green like a healing bruise. Zaun’s nocturnal schedule was one thing you’d always loved about it compared with Piltover. It gave everything that happened in the undercity an air of vice, and when you entered Silco’s office to find him already watching you with sharp eyes that felt like they could peel back every layer of your clothing, you knew your evening was about to get a lot more interesting.

“How do you feel about staying a little late tonight?” Silco said as you approached his desk. He turned his chair to the side, and that was all the signal you needed to round the desk and sink down into his lap.

“Need me to reorganise your filing cabinets again?” you said with an arch of your brows.

Silco took a cigar from the ashtray, and he didn’t need to ask you to light it for him. “Not quite. I’ve invited Finn here to discuss the territory dispute he was having with the Vyx. Tell me, do you truly find him so repulsive?”

“I…” You trailed off, wondering where this was going, but Silco’s ever-schooled expression gave you no hints. “Not repulsive, no. Just irritating.”

“And if I were to ask you to help him remember his place after the Assembly, what would you say?”

Ah. So this was where the other shoe dropped. For Finn, at least. The slow, almost absentminded circles Silco was drawing on your inner thigh (to the extent that Silco did anything absentmindedly) gave you a pretty good idea of what kind of plans Silco had made for the chem baron. “I suppose I could tolerate it for the sake of teaching him a lesson,” you said, keeping your voice light.

A slow, predatory smile spread across Silco’s features, and you shuddered. You’d been on the receiving end of that expression more than once. “Good girl. Now, go sit at your desk and look busy. You’ll know when I’m ready for you.”

-

When Finn arrived, you played the part of the quiet, unassuming assistant with practiced ease. You met him at the bar and led him upstairs, laughing off the flirtatious comments he made and putting a little extra sway into your hips for good measure. You fetched coffee and sat at your desk in the corner of the office, making yourself invisible as you let the scratching of your pen fill the gaps in the two chem barons’ conversation.

If Finn sensed anything was different, he gave no sign of it, sitting casually on Silco’s couch with one foot propped on his other knee, fidgeting with his lighter as he spoke. It was a wonder he ever got to light anything with it after wasting all the fuel.

You watched him from under your lashes as you worked. He wasn’t bad looking, really, just a little…over the top. If he noticed you watching, he wisely didn’t acknowledge it in front of Silco.

It was a little late for him to suddenly get some common sense, but you appreciated the effort anyway.

“There’s one more matter we need to discuss.” The chill that had crept into Silco’s voice made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. “Your transgression at the last chem baron assembly.” You heard his chair creak as he leaned back, but you didn’t dare look over at him.

“My—this is about her?” Finn said, his eyes finding you for the first time.

You could almost hear the unimpressed arch of Silco’s eyebrow in his voice. “My assistant made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in you, professionally or otherwise, yet you continued to pursue her, never once considering if perhaps there was a reason for her disinterest. One might even think you were trying to poach my staff from right under my nose. This was a grave insult towards both of us, Finn.”

For a second Finn’s mouth hung open as his eyes flitted between the two of you. You put your pen down, resting your chin on your hand as you watched the younger chem baron flounder. “I wasn’t—Silco, I would never try to take your staff from you. I just asked her out for a drink, that’s all, I swear.”

“I know,” Silco said, his voice deceptively light, and Finn’s whole body went rigid as he stood up and rounded his desk, but Silco only leaned on the other side, his arms folded as he looked down at Finn. “Just a moment of weakness, the temptation becoming too much for you, right? I’ll admit she can be something of a distraction.” He sighed, letting his words hang in the air, and you caught the exact moment Finn understood the implication, the suggestion that you weren’t just an assistant. By this point his eyes were so wide you would have laughed at the expression if you weren’t distracted by the heat already pooling low in your belly at what you knew was coming. Silco kept his eyes fixed on Finn as he held his hand out, long fingers crooked invitingly. “Come here, darling.”

You rose from your seat slowly, hardly daring to look at Silco as you came to stand between him and Finn. You already knew all the details of Silco’s plan, but you also knew that if you had a chance to dwell on what you were about to do, you’d lose your nerve. And you really didn’t want to back out now.

Finn’s metallic jaw hung loose as Silco’s hands trailed up your arms to the collar of your blouse, deft fingers undoing the buttons one by one. “You know, perhaps this situation is my fault,” he said as he pulled your blouse off your shoulders and tossed it aside. Next came your skirt, and you stepped out of your shoes and socks so you were stood there in only your undergarments. “Perhaps I haven’t been valuing your fantastic work ethic enough, Finn.” He punctuated that sentence by roughly unlacing your bra and tossing that aside too, so your tits bounced free. Your panties soon followed, another victim of the small knife Silco always kept up his sleeve.

Finn’s knuckles were now white, his hands clenched on his knees.

“Maybe it’s time I showed you how much I appreciate your contributions to the cause.”

Your nipples hardened to stiff, pebbled peaks, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the cool air in the office or Silco’s voice sliding against your ear like satin.

“Fortunately for you, she’s had something of a change of heart. Haven’t you, sweetheart? Would you like to help me remind Finn exactly where he stands in our enterprise?”

You nodded, then hissed as he pinched your nipples in warning. “Yes, sir,” you said quickly.

Finn’s eyes flicked between you and Silco, and you could see his mind reeling, searching for the catch. You could hardly blame him – though he made no move to leave, and his tight pants were doing absolutely nothing to hide his interest.

“Sure,” he said, shrugging in a way that was probably supposed to look nonchalant but would fool absolutely no-one. He glanced towards the door. “We could just—”

“Oh, no,” Silco said, nudging you towards the couch. “I think my office is perfectly sufficient.”

You knelt on the couch next to Finn, your hands braced on his thighs as he slowly shifted to face you. You wondered if he was even conscious of the movement. You glanced up at him, noted the slight flush on his cheeks. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and you could see the exact moment he thought, fuck it. He gave a short, jerky nod and you took that as your cue to free his cock from his jeans. You took him in your hand, already half-hard, but then you stopped, your eyebrows raising as you saw the three piercings near the bottom of his shaft, on the underside. They were gold barbells capped with large, heavy diamonds, and you wondered if they’d come before or after the jaw.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle a bit of ice, baby?” Finn purred.

“It won’t be a problem,” Silco answered for you. You glanced over your shoulder to find him leaning on the edge of his desk, watching with feigned boredom, though the heat in the depths of his corrupted eye gave him away. “She’s quite capable. Continue.”

You spat into your palm and worked your hand over the head of Finn’s cock. It didn’t take long to coax him to full hardness. When you glanced up at him, you could see he was doing his best to keep his expression schooled (which shouldn’t have been hard for him, given that half his face was metal). His fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch you but thought better of it. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as he seemed.

The couch dipped under you as Silco knelt behind you, and Finn looked up in alarm. “I never said you’d have her all to yourself,” your boss said over your shoulder.For a moment you were sure Finn would object, but he only chuckled, though his laughter was strained. “So that’s the deal with you two.”

“Yes, Finn, that is the deal,” Silco said, and your stomach twisted in anticipation as his hand fisted in your hair. “You got there eventually.”

“Come on, old man,” Finn said, some of his earlier bravado finding its way back into his voice. “You’re the last chem-baron I’d think would be fucking his assistant.”

“I suppose I’m full of surprises,” Silco said dryly, tapping a spot on your back, and you obediently put both hands behind your back so that Silco could pin them in place, your balance now completely dependent on him.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear and his voice soft enough for only you to hear. “Still okay with this, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what is our signal? Do you remember?”

“Tap your leg with my foot twice for a breather, three times to stop,” you recited.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and then he was pushing your head down.

For a few moments he only held your head at the tip of Finn’s cock, letting you take your time teasing the tip with your tongue. When you glanced up, your eyes met Finn’s, and you thought you heard him curse under his breath. Then you had to break eye contact as Silco forced your head lower, guiding Finn into your throat as you ran your tongue over the underside of his shaft, earning yourself a shaky, measured exhale that suggested it was taking all of Finn’s willpower not to start fucking your throat at his own pace.

Then Silco was pulling you back up, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water, though it was just the right kind of pain that sent flashes of heat along your spine. The heat between your thighs had solidified into a persistent, heavy ache, and you hoped Silco wasn’t planning for this to end with you simply sucking Finn's cock– and it wouldn’t, if the growing hardness you could feel pressing into your ass was any indication.

You took a breath while you could, before Silco pushed your head back down, this time far enough for you to give the first piercing an experimental flick with your tongue as it passed your lips, which made Finn’s breath stutter and his cock twitch in your throat.

There wasn’t time for such indulgences after that. Once you’d adjusted to Finn’s size and figured out how to avoid catching the stupid diamonds on your incisors, Silco set a more brutal pace that made Finn curse through gritted teeth as your head bobbed on his cock, though it was never more than you could handle. Silco knew exactly how much you could take, and he knew how to toe the line without pushing you over it, seemingly having some sixth sense for the moment your vision started to darken from lack of air. Your jaw ached and tears pricked at your eyes from the pain in your scalp, surely ruining your eyeliner, but not once did you consider tapping out. 

Silco let go of your hands, but you kept them clasped behind your back anyway. The vicelike grip he’d had on them had made his point clear enough; your every movement was to be at his command, your obedience complete. The sound of buttons popping was barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth on Finn’s length, but it still sent shivers of anticipation along your every nerve. You bit back a desperate whine when you felt Silco slowly draw his cock through your heat, coating himself in the wetness that had gathered there.

“Look at me, Finn,” Silco said, his voice like velvet, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as he sank into you, though the pressure of being filled at last did nothing to soothe the ache in your core. You risked a cheeky thrust of your hips backwards, urging him deeper, which earned you a warning tug on your scalp. You couldn’t see whether Finn obeyed, but he must have, because Silco continued, “This could have been you right now. Had you kept your head down, done your damn job and kept the money coming in, perhaps I would have seen fit to reward you properly.” He drew himself almost fully out of you before thrusting back in to the base, your groan of pleasure muffled by Finn’s cock. Silco had forced you to take him so deep your nose was pressed to his groin, and your mind felt fuzzy, but you still had enough wit to think to yourself, liar. Silco might be willing to allow Finn to indulge in your mouth, but he had an ulterior motive. Anything else was about as likely as a Shimmerhead sharing his fix. “But no,” he continued, his voice sliding into a low, dangerous hiss that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. “You had to poke your head up above your station. You had to get cocky. You had to try to claim what isn’t yours. I want you to remember this next time you think of stepping out of line.” His voice was as measured as ever, his tone bordering on disinterest, but you knew better. You heard the gravelly bedrock beneath the silken surface. He’s close. “Remember who built this nation. Who gave you your own little fiefdoms where you can live like kings, instead of street dogs tearing each other apart over scraps. And remember how easily I can tear you down, just as swiftly as I raised you up.”

As if to illustrate his point, he pulled your head up so you released Finn’s cock and your spluttering gasps filled the quiet, occasionally dissolving into desperate whimpers as Silco fucked you, just a little slower than he knew you liked, the bastard.

When you risked another glance up at Finn, you could see the cogs turning behind his lust-clouded eyes, even as he subconsciously angled his hips up towards your waiting mouth.

“All right, I overstepped,” he gritted out. “I already said I was sorry.” You thought you caught a please whispered under his breath, or maybe it was just the blood rushing in your ears.

Silco gave a low hm of consideration but pushed your head back down regardless, and you obediently opened your mouth to take Finn into your throat once more. This time the pace Silco set was more intense, and you had to fight off your gag reflex as Finn shuddered beneath you.

“Everything you have, everything you are, exists because I allow it. Both of you,” he said, driving into you faster, your tits bouncing obscenely with the force of it. “But look at her, you’re grateful, aren’t you darling?”

You gave a choked moan around Finn’s cock, and Silco chuckled, the sound rich and smoky and tipping you dangerously close to a peak you weren’t sure you had permission to reach. “That’s it,” he said, fingers finding their way to your clit as if to reward your obedience. “Always so well behaved. You could stand to learn a few things, Finn.”

The tight, quick circles Silco was drawing on your clit were enough to send you careening into your orgasm, permission be damned. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you clenched around Silco’s cock, waves of pleasure radiating from your core to the tips of your toes, and the force of it soon pulled Silco down with you, though the only thing that gave him away was the stutter in the rhythm of his hips and the tightening of his hand in your hair.

He pulled out of you and quickly tucked himself away, pulling you off Finn once again. You panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm skittered along your nerves, a string of drool connecting you to the tip of Finn’s dick. “If you want to finish,” Silco said, “you can start by apologising to my assistant.”

“Fuck,” Finn snapped when you gave a taunting little lick to his head when he took his time answering. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean – I shoulda left you alone when you said. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it was just flirting.”

“Acceptable?” Silco leaned down to speak softly into your ear again, and you shivered in pleasure at the attention.

You looked up at Finn through your lashes. His sleek hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, and his gold eyes had a wildness to them you’d never seen before, like he was balancing on the edge of a building and you were the one holding him up, and he didn’t know if you were about to save him or let him fall.

It occurred to you that you could say no. One word from you, and Silco would send Finn scuttling out of here with balls as blue as Hex-crystals.

That was probably what Silco would have done, if it were up to him. Fortunately for Finn, you weren’t so cruel. Your throat was raw and the words wouldn’t come, so you just nodded. It was enough.

“Very well.” Silco released your hair and sat back against the couch. “You may finish, Finn.”

“In her mouth?” he said as you swirled your tongue around his head once more, this time able to use your hands as well, sparing your abused throat.

There was a click and fizz of a lighter, and you could picture very well the withering glare that Silco had to be aiming over your head. “Well, if you ruin my couch I’ll have you gutted alive. So yes, come in her mouth.”

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked, and that was all it took. Finn came with a growl he barely stifled, boldly grabbing your hair and holding you in place as he fucked your throat, spilling over your tongue again and again as you swallowed it down. You were relieved when you could finally release him, giving one last flick of your tongue to his tip, making him hiss. It was only fair, you thought, considering the ache in your jaw.

“Get out,” Silco said quietly from behind you. “And never pull something like this again. Next time I will not be so lenient.”

Finn said nothing, only tucked himself into his pants and ducked out the door, his usual swagger gone. You weren’t fooled, though. You knew the look of a man who’d just had the best orgasm of his life.

Sighing, you flopped back on the couch, your head landing in Silco’s lap as your eyes fluttered shut in contentment.

“Was that too much?” Silco asked softly. He stroked a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight compared to the iron grip he’d just had on your scalp.

You shook your head, breathing in the cloud of smoke he let drift down over you. “But you’re buying me a wig if I wake up bald tomorrow.”

He chuckled, the rich, dark sound curling out from his lips and settling over you much like the smoke had, sending heat curling in your belly once more. “Deal.” 

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Word Count: 3358

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Threats of Non-Con, Threats of Violence

Notes: Here’s the first official chapter! Thank you for all the feedback so far. Javi isn’t in the next two chapters as much, but we’ll get there. Also in case anyone missed the tags, the reader is plus sized. She is mentioned as having curves, and later on there is discussion about her weight and clothing issues and whatnot. Other than that the only description of her is that she is female presenting.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Two Years Earlier

“Fuck,” I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temples.

I had been searching for teaching jobs everywhere, and I meant everywhere. My hands were shaking as I struggled to sort through the piles of ads on my kitchen table, while I tried not to let the mix of sweat and fear bother me while it stuck my hair to the nape of my neck. At that point I didn’t care where I worked as long as I could get out of Canada. Fast.

The idea of starting over scared the shit out of me, but it had to be done. I had worked so hard to climb the financial ladder in order to get to the top of my position, which was huge for a woman in my field, and I had married a wonderful man. My future was laid out for me and wrapped with a shiny bow. Until…

I shook my head and resumed searching, as there was no point strolling down memory lane thinking about what could have been. I had to think about what was going to be.

Finally my eyes landed on an ad.

‘Wanted: Teachers with any experience, preferably English speaking.’

“Any experience?” I thought aloud as my eyes further down the page.

It was short, but sweet. Due to political tensions there was a lack of teachers in Colombia, so they had begun looking elsewhere. The one that specified English speaking ones happened to be in a place called Bogotà. I hadn’t really heard of that place before, but I kept my eye on the news enough to know what they meant by political tensions in Colombia. Everybody knew what they meant.

I didn’t have much time to weigh the pros and cons, and instead rushed to my room to pack my life into the only two suitcases I owned before I could rush off to the airport. I couldn’t seem to fully breathe until I was seated and the airplane finally took off toward my new life. It was a long flight, but I welcomed the newfound safe space where I could finally close my eyes and rest for the first time in what felt like forever.

With my newspaper in hand and my luggage tucked away in a seedy motel, I marched up to the front doors of where I hoped would be my safe haven. Turns out the school wanted to know even less about me than I had been comfortable telling them. They just wanted someone who could keep their head down, remain non judgemental toward the students and their parents, and could do their best when teaching a new language while trying to learn theirs.

It sounded too good to be true, but I couldn’t afford to turn back. I sealed my fate that morning and went about the rest of the day finding a cheap apartment that was within walking distance to my new job.

Within a few months I had started feeling more and more comfortable with my new role as an English teacher in a school that needed discretion and hope more than I did. Many of the parents were involved in situations that I didn’t even want to begin to think about, but their children got to escape and be with their friends while in my care. The only childcare experience I had previous was babysitting my younger sister's children. She was my only family after our parents had died in our teens, but unfortunately life had gotten too busy and outside forces prevented me from seeing her much. It had been at least three years since the last time we had spoken.

My heart ached when I would recognize my nieces faces in the joy and sorrow of my students, but I poured what love I could offer into them and helped them as much as I could.

One of the children in my class had a father who only showed up every once in a while, but the rumours that had spread throughout the faculty were terrifying. He seemed non-threatening, just a little too comfortable talking to the teachers, including myself, at a very close range. Personal space clearly wasn’t his thing, but apparently working for the cartel was. There were whispers that he was one of the higher ups, but I tried to keep my head down and focus on just getting by.

Until one day when he came to pick up his son. He was acting particularly flighty, his eyes shifting every which way. I usually got the chance to tell him how his son had been doing in school, even though I wasn’t sure he fully understood English, but that day he barely said hello. Almost as soon as his car sped off another vehicle pulled up just outside the front doors of the school.

From my classroom windows I could see two men getting out and making their way inside. One was a tall blonde, who looked like he came straight from the states, considering he stuck out like a sore thumb. The other was also tall, though didn’t look it next to his partner, but he definitely fit in more with the locals with his dark brown mop and matching mustache nestled above his plush lips. As they walked through the doors it was hard not to let my eyes linger down the second man’s loose button up that was tucked deliciously into jeans that fit him like a goddamn glove. I definitely didn’t miss the flash of a gun that was held snugly into the back of his pants.

I shook my head the second the door closed behind them, and made my way back to the front of my classroom. I felt ridiculous practically drooling over another man especially after everything that happened, but I just couldn’t help it. Just as I had my thoughts gathered there was a knock at the door. I turned my head and standing in the doorway was the second man I was trying to forget.

“Perdón por la interrupción, Señorita.” (Sorry for the interruption). The mustache was even more impressive up close, as were his lips, and his deep chocolate eyes that I felt could see right through me.

“Lo siento, no hablo español,” I muttered. (I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish). I was used to the phrase by now, even though I had picked up some of the language by now I certainly wasn’t anywhere near fluent. But even with this practiced sentence I felt as though my tongue was too thick to wrap around the letters, especially after watching the way his lips formed around each word. My knees felt weak, and not just because of the badge he held in his hand.

“Of course, my apologies,” he said, his voice smooth like hard liquor, with a hint of smoke and gravel, I was almost waiting for the bite. He held up his badge so I could see he was official. “Agent Javier Peña, DEA.”

I felt a weight I didn’t know I was carrying melt off of my shoulders. Drug Enforcement, which meant he wasn’t here for me. At least not in the way I was worried about.

“I’m wondering if you could confirm whether a certain student is in your classroom,” he spoke so gently I felt comforted, but I wasn’t going to give in.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give that information away.”

He smiled and leaned against the doorway, bringing his head down closer to me. At the nearly intimate movement I could feel a heat creeping up my chest that I knew would blossom into a blush. He knew what he was doing.

“Please, Miss, call me Javi.” I was almost expecting a wink to punctuate his sentence.

“Well, Agent,” I bit back, “I cannot give any information about these students to anybody who isn’t their caregivers.”

I didn’t want to be on this guy's bad side, but I also wanted to keep both the children safe and my job. They weren’t just pawns in the ugly game their parents and government were playing. It was rare that my students had a voice speaking up for them, an advocate for them. When I signed up for the job I was signing up to be just that.

He nodded and dragged his eyes down my body before snapping back up. His jaw was working with frustration over my refusal to back down, but he finally stood back up to his full height.

“Alright then,” he spoke firmly, but still gentle enough that I knew he was more frustrated than angry. “Have a good day.”

He turned to walk away but not before pausing and reaching into his pocket. In between his fingers was a thick card, which he then held out to me. I took the card with his full name stamped along the top, and what I assumed was his number printed along the middle. Even though I had grabbed onto the card he still held it firmly in his fingers, causing me to look up and once again be lost in his dark eyes.

“If you need anything, ever, please do not hesitate to call.”

I bit my lip and nodded. I didn’t miss the way his eyes left mine for a split second to glance at my lips before returning. He nodded back and left. I finally took a deep breath, feeling the stretch of my lungs inflating fully for the first time since I laid eyes on the man.

I returned to my desk and sat down to finish up marking while the remaining students continued their steady chatter while they awaited their parents. The card felt heavy in my hands, but I knew it wasn’t because of the actual weight of the paper. I reached over to the garbage can but hesitated, wondering if it really was the smartest idea to throw away what might be my one lifeline. Almost as if I could sense his eyes on me I looked out the window and saw him watching my classroom before climbing into the passenger seat of his vehicle. With that last glance of Agent Javier Peña I decided better and took out my wallet. I folded his card up as small as I could and tucked it away. I hoped I would never have to call that number, but something told me I couldn’t get rid of it yet.

That evening as I was leaving work I realized I didn’t have a lot of groceries at home. Unfortunately that meant I had to stop at the market, even though it was later than I had wanted. I took too long marking and ended up doing some more stuff around the classroom than I usually get the time to do, but that meant I got carried away. By the time I left there was only one other car in the parking lot other than mine. Everyone else had gone home, I assumed the other car belonged to one of the cleaning staff.

The market was pretty empty, only a few other shoppers moved around with glazed over eyes clearly exhausted from their workday. I absentmindedly threw ingredients into my cart that were easy to prepare quickly that night. I was too exhausted to even think about putting effort into a full meal, grateful that at least the weekend was in a few days.

All of a sudden a cart bumped against mine. I went to apologize even though it wasn’t my fault, but the words died in my throat when I saw who the person was.

“Hola.” The father of one of my students, Luis, the one in the cartel, stood barricading my cart against the shelves in the aisle. His smile was slimy, almost oozing against his face. I didn’t trust him one bit.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” I said, flustered. I tried to move back to get away but he stepped forward with me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His smile grew bigger, taunting.

I shook my head and stepped away from my cart. He stepped to the side of his and pulled back his shirt enough to reveal a gun nestled into the front of his jeans. My hands started to tremble and I found I couldn’t focus on anything but the hint of metal in front of me. He nodded his head toward the exit, and I found myself following him without a second thought, leaving my cart abandoned in the aisle.

He led me out to a car in the parking lot that I recognized immediately as the one that had been at the school when I left. I mentally kicked myself for not recognizing it before, but it was too common of a car to have pinpointed exactly who the owner was, especially since I hadn’t seen anyone inside of it.

I was shoved into the backseat before I had time to think about what was going to happen to me. Luis slid into the driver's seat and took off, tires squealing against the road and into the night. I sat up and tried to get my wits about me, but the sound of a gun cocking drew my attention back to the driver.

“Keep your head down and your mouth shut, mi amor,” he spoke harshly, the nickname making my stomach turn. “Eres toda mía.” (You’re all mine)

I did as I was told, but considered whether getting shot would really be the worst thing, especially compared to whatever he had in store for me. Before I could come to a final decision the car lurched onto a dirt road, away from any street lights or other cars. We were truly going to be alone.

Tears sprang to my eyes but I refused to let him see me cry. It was obvious I was helpless and doomed to whatever fate he had in store for me, but I wouldn’t let him see any amount of weakness. I would become a fortress if I could not fight.

The car finally came to a stop and Luis jumped out, running to get to my door. He threw it open and wrenched my arm out, pulling the rest of me to the ground. My skin stung where it made contact with the rough surface, but he had pulled me to my feet before I could think about it any further.

Before us laid a house that was not modest in the slightest. I had to wonder who it belonged to, considering he would probably wear nicer clothes if he could afford a mansion.

“Vamos mi amor,” he snarled, still tugging me along by my wrist, his grip bruising.

My heart was beating in my ears and I couldn’t feel my legs as they carried me closer and closer to the large wooden doors ahead of us. When we got there Luis pushed the doors open with a bang, startling the men behind them. They turned to us, raising their guns before sighing and lowering them once more.

“Oh, Luis, hija de puta,” one of the men said. (Son of a bitch/whore).

Another stepped over and looked at me. I struggled to keep my head held high under his examination and Luis' powerful grip.

“El Patrón no le gustarà está,” he snarled. (The Boss won’t like this.) “¿Dónde encontraste éste?” (Where did you find this one?)

Luis gripped my arm even tighter, in a punishing amount of strength.

“¿Por qué?¿Estás celoso?” He sneered and pulled me off to the side, toward an open door leading into a dark room. (Why? Are you jealous?)

In the middle of the room was a small bed that clearly had only been used for what I was assuming he wanted to do with me. He threw me onto it, the mattress so thin I could feel the springs under my body, and then he slammed the door. I could no longer hear anybody on the other side.

“Finally, it’s just you and me,” he nearly slurred. His accent was thick as he punched out each word. He climbed onto the bed and over me, pinning my wrists above my head. My nose wrinkled automatically as his pungent smell of body odour and bad breath invaded my senses. “Do you know how bad I’ve wanted this? To touch these curves?”

I was surprised by how strong he was as he held my wrists in one hand and stroked his other hand over my waist. I twisted my body, trying to get away but his hold was like iron.

“You don’t get to get away, I’ve worked hard for this,” he growled and slapped my cheek causing my head to turn sharply toward the thin pillow it rested on. I gasped in shock, my body suddenly going pliant. “Stay still, puta!”

The next thing I heard was the drag of his zipper as a tear slid down my cheek, and then the door busted open causing us both to jump. A gunshot rang through my ears before I felt a thick, warm liquid drip onto my face. My eyes had squeezed shut and refused to open while my whole body shook in fear.

I felt lighter once the body that had been pinning me down had dropped to the side, then onto the floor with a wet smack. I couldn’t stop shaking even then, still not opening my eyes. My breaths were ragged, ripping through my throat and getting caught in choked sobs that I couldn’t hold back any longer.

A hand landed gentle and warm on my cheek.

“Abre los ojos. Open your eyes.” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and surprisingly gentle. I obeyed and immediately felt a new flood of fear. I recognized the man, the monster, that knelt beside me stroking my cheek.

Pablo Escobar.

I remember seeing pictures of him in the paper and on my television before moving to Bogotà, and then seeing his face on almost everything else after. Then, he was right in front of my face.

I scrambled to the edge of the bed, trying to put distance between us, ignoring the dead body that was still lying on the floor.

“No hay que tener miedo,” his voice was rough, and rumbled through the room.

“He says there’s no need to be afraid,” another voice, higher and not as threatening, came from the corner of the room. One of the men who had been standing by the front door was still holding his gun, keeping his eyes on Pablo.

Pablo smiled at me, but I didn’t believe him. There were many reasons to be afraid, one of them was still warm and lying on the floor.

“Siento que este idiota te haya traído aquí,” he said looking in the direction of Luis.

“He’s sorry this idiot brought you here,” his translator said.

“¿Que hago contigo?” He looked at me once more, almost waiting for my reply to his question. (What do I do with you?)

I furrowed my brows and looked to the man in the corner.

“He’s unsure about what to do. Luis didn’t follow protocol. One of our lookouts could see that you were in the backseat without a blindfold, meaning you know where this place is.” He took a step toward me, his gun still held tightly. “You’re a liability.”

I shook my head frantically. “N-no I promise I won’t tell anybody, I didn’t really see much. I was too scared and it’s nighttime and I’m new here.” I could feel myself growing more and more hysterical.

Pablo reached down to the floor and lifted up my purse. It must have fallen when I was pushed onto the bed but I hadn’t even noticed. He handed it over to me.

“I heard you’re a good teacher,” he said, hesitating over a few words.

I nodded.

“Tal vez hay un uso para usted después de todo,” he smiled.

(Perhaps there’s a use for you after all.)

[woneuntonzz]

hypothesis || smau — c.s, j.wy

➤ chapter 10 (back to chapters)

highschool senior!san x highschool senior!reader x highschool senior!wooyoung

contains: written chapter, fluff, humor, jealousy (low degree), highschool au, reader is named & afab

» Three good friends, and two infatuated people —infatuated with each other? maybe, who knows...

more under the cut .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

(wc: 1.6k!!)

You woke up feeling extra motivated, why wouldn’t you when you're about to see San again after a while of not seeing him. Firstly, you’d get done with your morning classes, your teachers finding you too be surprisingly active. Then your last class before lunch, PE. It was quite an undesirable placement for everyone who had it on that schedule, but hey, it shouldn’t be too bad if you’re meeting your crush right after, right?

“Alright kids, settle down. Please find yourself your partners. We will do a couple of assisted exercises today…” your PE teacher’s next words became a blur to you.

Your eyes were all set on Yuri, but she was pulled away by Winter and the two would only smile at you like you’re some little girl they refused to buy girl scout cookies from. Just as you were about to just give up and wait until your teacher called for the students that didn’t have a partner, someone comes through the door of the gymnasium, opening it just enough to let himself in. 

“Choi San, you’re late —I don’t really care but hurry up and get yourself a partner.” everyone’s attention went to him when your gym teacher announced his arrival. 

You smiled to yourself, seeing that some of his friends were in the same class, you looked past him. He’d probably choose Yunho or Yeosang as his partner.

“Hi Sab!” you couldn’t believe your eyes, San stood right in front of you wearing a white fitted tee and your school’s PE pants. 

“Hi San! Is there anything I can help you with?” he nods to your question. 

“Yeah, I was wondering if it was okay with you if we’re partners for today. Also, I don’t know what we need partners for.” your eyes go —just a little— wide when you’re finally able to fully process what he had just asked you. 

“Oh, um, of course —and Mr. Seo said we’re doing some assisted exercises today.” you reply.

San was now your PE partner, it was just for today, but the amount of girls in the class that wished they could be in your place cannot be counted with your fingers alone. You avoid looking at anyone else, scared to meet any of their watchful —and nosy— eyes. 

Everyone got ready and lined up, firstly warming up before the actual exercise. You felt bad for staring at San’s figure from your peripheral vision, seeing how well his shirt encloses his body. Your teacher would again call for everyone’s attention, instructing all of you to get started. 

Your teacher would show them video demonstrations first, and then they will simultaneously attempt at least two sets per each person. 

“Do you want to go first or should I go first?” San asks you, creating a proximity between you two that made you feel like screaming your soul away.

“You go first.” you were surprised you were still able to utter that. 

The first exercise is standard curl-ups. San would position himself, looking straight up at the ceiling as you settled yourself at his foot. The teacher signals everybody to start with a blow of his whistle. You kept your hands over San’s feet, and for some reason you felt withdrawn from giving your whole weight onto it. 

He sits up for the first time, lifting his back off the floor. You backed up a bit as his face got close to yours. Before he gets back down, he says, “Thank you Sab.”

You blink a couple of times, slightly perplexed. “Thanks too, I guess. I didn’t think we’d be partners today.”

He chuckles, going briefly before rising back up. “Well, I hope you know I’m thanking you for listening to me and my problems.” he went back down, then up again, “It really made me feel a lot better. I usually never open up that much, unless it’s with—” he does another sit up. “Wooyoung or Seonghwa —and Yeosang on occasion.” 

You could only nod, watching his body fall and catch itself, rising back up to meet your gaze. 

“Okay, now everybody, switch positions with their partners.”

San got up from the mat, waiting for you to position yourself before he went down to hold on your feet. 

For a minute, you’d take your time to rethink your life decisions. You don’t remember the last time you’ve done curl-ups, or if you’ve even done one before. You crossed your arms over your chest, left hand on your right shoulder and vice versa. 

You were on the ground for a while, and you’d feel anxious seeing that everyone else had already started. “Sab, you okay?”

“Um, yeah.” you attempt to sit-up, and your chest would eventually come close to your knees, “Haven’t done this in a while.”

The corners of his lips rose to a sweet smile, and it caused you to let your body fall back to the ground, with some unnecessary impact. “Sab, are you sure you’re fine?”

You force yourself back up, the struggle visible on your face. “Yep, fine as wine.”

“You’ll get the hang of it. Use your core strength.” it was easier said than done, but the more you did it —more meaning one more time— you got the hang of it. “That’s it! you’re doing great.”

You rise from the floor for the last time before the whistle blows. When you had sat up, you kept your eyes on your knees, like what you’ve been doing the whole time. But when you heard the sound of the whistle, your eyes wandered up to meet San’s stare. It took you by surprise, your eyes inching open by the way he was looking at you. Maybe it was you “being delusional”, but a part of you hoped it was something. You shake your head, breaking eye contact with him. 

You don’t know if you’re crazy or if he really did chuckle again, but it was a fact that he stood first and helped you off the floor, with a gentle grip on your hand reducing the weight you had to carry to stand up. 

“Thanks.” your voice turned small, almost inaudible.

When you glanced at him, he was just smiling at you, and his eyes were smiling too. 

\\

Wooyoung had been anticipating this time of the day ever since he stepped foot on their school. Lunch time —and for a very particular reason. He was waiting for his best friend who had just come back from being away for a couple of days, and of course, his bff.

Wooyoung stepped out of his microbiology class, and he’d dropped his textbook and notebook on the ground on the way out. As he picked it up, his phone lit up in his hands. It displayed a message notification.

my kitty daddy 😍😍😍: sab and i are already headed to the cafeteria

my kitty daddy 😍😍😍: we’ll save you a seat! —your bff

“Oh, they’re with each other already?” he mumbles to himself as he continues to walk off.

He stopped by his locker to put away a few of his stuff, then he headed straight to the cafeteria. He faced no difficulty spotting you and San. For a while, he feels anxious. It was odd for him, you were both special to him, just in two completely distinct aspects. He thought about you having a crush on San, and even indirectly admitting to it. He isn’t even sure if you realize that he’s got you all figured out —well at least that’s what he thinks— since you haven’t picked up on his very obvious flirting. 

“Woo!” he felt his heartbeat escalate after hearing you call for him.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face as he walked over to your table. He sat down next to you, leaving you in between the two of them. He noticed that you were both wearing PE attire, and so he’d ask, “You two had PE?”

You sigh heavily, still feeling some exhaustion from the prior exercises. “Yep.”

“That’s unfortunate.” he laughed a bit when he saw your face contort at his remark. 

“Not really, we were exercise partners.” San utters before taking a bite of his food. “She did exceptionally well.”

“That’s exaggerating! but thank you.” you giggled before taking a bite of your own food. 

Wooyoung could only watch as the two of you conversed and laughed, it took him a minute to realize that he hadn’t even gotten his food yet. When he came back from the food queue, you were giving San the hug you promised —but of course, Wooyoung didn’t know that, did he? Still, he chose to pretend to be unbothered by everything, taking his first bite and almost spitting it out when he saw just how close you and San were —in his mind, it was way too close for comfort, his comfort that is.

Before he could get all sulky, you nudged at him to get his attention, telling him, “We’re so back.”

He suppressed a laugh —if he were being honest, he didn’t really quite understand what you meant. “Hell yeah we are.”

Maybe you were pertaining to this blossoming trio you had going on, but half of his mind took him to a place where all he could think about is your little —or maybe not so little— crush on San. He chose to shake his head away from his thoughts, feeling bad that he had that running on his mind when his best friend had just come back from a very rough week of sorrows. Maybe it was mere coincidence, but he and San meet eyes, and San would smile at him. It eased him off of his worries, and soon he was laughing along with the two of you. 

previous » next

[presidentbungus]

Scout has incredible street smarts! While it seems irrelevant in the base dropped in the middle of nowhere, he is invaluable during contract missions located within urban areas.

He can notice an undercover cop in a second, distinguish accents, recognize a scam happening, pinpoint a drug dealer who looks like a sweet old granny and see the signs of some group's terf markings. The team is looking for some local hotshot and they have no leads? Scout runs to the downtown and locates the first bodega/laundromat/bar/gas station/pizza parlor, blends in and befriends some entry-position-apprentice who gives him all the info he needs.

South Boston is the top school in the world for the street-smarts and Scout graduated it with honors.

yep! while scout has resigned himself to the position of “the stupid one” alongside a crowd of extremely talented, socially awkward PhD owners, once somebody finally has the idea that he seems good at talking and drags him along on a mission they figure out pretty quick that holy shit this kid is good at talking.

Engie’s usually the negotiator if they need one at all, mostly because he knows how to say please and thank you when it seems necessary, but he still has sort of a… distrustful aura around him. the accent’s disarming, sure, and does a great job pushing through a crowd of white middle-aged church moms, but it turns out there are a lot of parts where a moderately-wealthy-looking fourty-year-old white man with a little bit of a weird glint in his eyes ain’t really that welcome. so they might send scout in, since he really, really wants to go in and they’re all out of options (unless they want to send sniper, and he’d probably leave the building having bitten at least four people on reflex)—and when he comes back out he’s got everything they need to know, plus some free snacks, plus an invite to some teenage boy’s birthday party.

it turns out that little air of authenticity goes a long way—and the team watches him flip from polite upstanding church-boy cashier to poor sad orphan boy on the streets to egregiously annoying emotional armor-shredding “class clown” in what seems like seconds, and I guess it should occur to someone at some point that he’s spent his entire life figuring out how to blend in places like that and get what he wants.

(everybody would joke he got the ‘good actor’ gene from spy, if it didn’t just make them sad. also, a few people see him effortlessly skating his way person-to-person, molding his conversational targets like putty, and wonder exactly how much of an act he might be putting on back at the base, too.)

addendum: of all the characters he is able to axt in, “suave” or “ladykiller” or anything along those lines is not one of them. please don’t get me wrong. he’s the friendly face you see on the other end of the sidewalk, or the guy you run into at the grocery store that turns towards you and awkwardly tells a whole bunch of jokes in a row and it’s so weirdly pathetic and charming at the same time you can’t help but laugh, but he’s still terrible at romance, and as a matter of fact most things Involving charisma in general. he just takes advantage of that sad wet kitten energy, you know? it works out

[thetinylittlespider]

The New Doll

Poll Story Everyone!!! The horror one!!!

Special thanks to @clumsiestgiantess to help me correct some writing mistakes!

Word count: 3069 words!

CW: Blood, slight gore and surgical procedures. Mature language, and substances.

THIS IS +18 EVERYBODY!!!

"C'mon, one more drink! You barely had a glass today! I never thought you'd become such a softy in university!"

ーF-Fine! Fine!ー I tried to brush off those comments with a laugh, it was a boy's night out, in the wonderful corners of a nightclub far from home, midnight was setting in, and I only wanted to go back home already. It was clear I was not a fan of crowded places.

ーOne shot of Tequila! The cheap one, please!ー

All my friends laughed as I asked the bartender for the drink, it was not usual of me to ask for strong liquor, they were used to having me drink beer or some soft mix...But this time I wanted to get them off my back as soon as possible, call for a cab and get done for the night.

"Now that's the spirit! Keep that going and you might as well find someone to have fun tonight!"

ーPffft...Yeah, sure buddy, I'm a fucking player...ー I replied as dead and sarcastically as humanly possible. Waiting for my drink as they just kept dancing in the background trying to flirt with the closest gals they could find.

And as the bartender finally left the glass of tequila right in front of me, 2 women...probably around my age, sat right beside me. I tried to ignore them, as I've been doing with everyone in that place, and just tried to mind my business.

Until I heard, in the middle of the laughter, music, and steps. Something fell close...

As I looked down to my right, the phone of one of the girls had fallen from her purse, she didn't notice, and nobody else seemed to notice that. I rolled my eyes for a bit before releasing a sigh. I hated how nice I could be even in a bad mood.

I leaned down to reach for the phone, trying my best to not look awkward in the process, considering how crowded the place was, and how little space for movement was there. Once obtained, I came back to a descent posture and gave a little pat to the girl's shoulder in an attempt to get her attention.

ーExcuse me...Miss, ehm...your phone fell off...ー

"Oh~ thank you! I forget to close this damn thing sometimes hahaha!" She replied taking her phone as delicate as possible. And seemed to lock her eyes with mine for a brief second, and the emerald tone of them shocked me for a second. But it didn't matter...

Yeah, I wasn't about to start a conversation. I wanted to leave, and soon. I'll just finish my drink and get awa-

Did my glass move? I could've sworn it was close to my left hand before I reached for the phone, and now it was close to the right. Maybe I was just standing in a bad position to begin with.

I looked to my left, the other girl was just ordering something, playing with her hair. And the one on my right was texting someone. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

One glass...it's all it took.

Vision got blurry.

Nausea was kicking in.

Everything felt so claustrophobic.

And it was hard to breathe.

I couldn't feel my tongue, and my friends were nowhere to be found.

I made my way out of the club with shaky legs, the streets were cold and empty, but I just needed a place to sit down, call a taxi, and rest this feeling away.

I wasn't that weak to alcohol. I knew my limits.

Then that means, someone messed with my drink, but when?

Everything seems distant, clothes start feeling heavy. What was happening to me?

"Here he is! The cutie who's also a gentleman! I want him already." A voice reverberated in my ears like an echo, and it wasn't alone.

"Now now, he is almost done, get the box ready. I'll be finished with him by the sunrise." Both female voices, both great shadows casting over me by the weak moonlight. And before one massive hand could cover my entire field of view...I blacked out.

I woke up on a cold surface, and the smell of steel and metal was the only thing I could perceive. My vision was almost blinded by a bright white light above me, like a fake sun in eternal darkness, my arms and legs tied up to the metal soil, making my efforts to move useless. What was this?

"Subject 42, 22 years old, healthy body, male, university student...Compatible with the procedure and request." Said a familiar voice.

The reflection of light caused that voice to take form. It was a woman covered with a doctor's attire, a white face mask, and on top of it all. A hand as big as my body fell on my side...she was massive.

ーW-What is this place? Hey...Who are you? W-what's happening to me!?ー My words came louder than I intended them to be...But my panic was met with deaf ears...

"We need to replace the insides first, take out the eyes, and end with the skin replacements...to not damage or stain the new tissue."

ーThe fuck...are you talking about!? Let me go! What's wrong with you!?ー I groaned as I did all my best efforts to use my arms, maybe kick my legs...but nothing, I was well secured like a wild animal.

She started tapping her fingers on the metal surface, which by now was a table to her. Each finger was repeating the same rhythm and the same sound.

Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank.

Each time, her nails impacted the metal plate, gave me chills for how big they looked now, as if I were watching a display of guillotines, she just needed her index to get rid of my head, and by the words she released before, it was a possibility I couldn't ignore.

ーHey! Lady! I don't know what kind of shit you are doing here...I don't care! Please let me go and I won't tell a soul...I-I have some money! You can have it...j-just please I want to go hom-...ー

"URGH, SHUT UP! JESUS!"

Her yell was deafening, my ears were not ready for that type of volume coming from her, and in turn, I released a yelp while my head started to hurt. She then placed another object beside me, this time it was a tray, with lots of knives, cutters, and elements that almost made me faint again by their nature, and what she was going to do.

ーP-Please don't hurt me...I don't want to die...I can pay you j-just let me go, please...I'll do anything you want...Please let me go...ーTears started falling down my face, as I tried to beg for my freedom, to be back home where I wanted to be ever since the start.

But she wasn't listening to me. She was only hearing a desperate creature's noise, and she wanted that to stop.

"I knew we ran out of sedatives but if you are going to keep losing your mind and make noise, well, the client never mentioned anything about your mouth, so if I want to, I'll make sure you don't even let a gasp coming out of your mouth again, are we clear?"

With just 2 fingers she kept my head in place, forcing me to look her in the eyes, my heart rate was starting to increase, and so was my breathing. I could feel her cold gaze, uncaring, and cruel. I could even her desire to crush my head like a grape in between her fingers. But she needed me alive, for now. And I feared that.

"You look like a smart little guy, so I trust you won't struggle. Be a good boy, and I promise this won't hurt as much. Let's take advantage of that little sedative you got left before it vanishes out of your bloodstream."

I couldn't do anything, I tried to keep my mouth shut while I tried to imagine some way I could escape. Meanwhile, she moved her free hand towards the tray, the sound of crashing metals making me tremble, and my entire skin going pale as a giant scalpel, blade as big as my head, probably a bit more, moved above me, and then with a steady grip, the giant doctor rested the pointy item at the center of my chest, piercing, blood emerging from my flesh and unfortunately, I let go a scream of pain.

But the surgeon didn't stop and moved the blade down my abdomen, my screams lacking air to keep going as the crimson fluid slowly escaped my body. I could not focus at all on what was going on, but the few glimpses of my body were enough to tell she cut more than the skin, she destroyed my stomach, and my intestines. I could see the fleshy tubes being entangled on the tip of the cold blade, she kept rotating around as if it was some sort of pasta; dripping blood while moving them above me, extracting them slowly, my screams became sobs of agony and pain as my skin was decorated by my blood, doing my best to move out of the way, to somehow break my chains and run free, but it was useless.

She moved her other arm to pick another item, a small scissor that was half the size of her hand and a few bits smaller than my entire body.

ーP-PLEASE! STOP! IT HURTS! IT FUCKING HURTS! PLEASE!ー I kept screaming until the sound turned into another whimper, she held the slimy bloody organ still creating tension with it before cutting it clean off from the end of the stomach, and throwing it away like some type of trash. I could sense the blood reaching the inside of the new hole created inside of me, how all the other organs were falling into the cavity. She gave me a look of disgust, she was annoyed.

"I told you what would happen if you opened that little mouth of yours, didn't I?"

Her words fell on deaf ears this time, as I was just focused on the pain I was experiencing, she was slicing me open with no effort at all, and the only reason I caused her problems was due to her little patience to an obvious human response to this kind of pain. Now the only things escaping my mouth were agonizing, weak, and almost drowned gasps for air, small attempts to communicate and ask for mercy.

"I need little of you for this work, the client was not very picky on what about you should be kept, so I think we can keep your vocal cords; cut your tongue, stuff and seal your mouth. At least that way she can get some noise out of you. But not enough for you to become an annoyance"

Wait, the client was a "she", who could ask for this? for me? why me? why doing this at all? Did she know the type of shit that happened here? Who in their right mind could ever ask for this to happen to someone else?

My mind was overloaded with pain, with fear, and with neverending doubts. The procedure followed, piece by piece, each one of my organs were removed from my body, then I could feel my mouth getting watery, the smell of iron invaded me, my eyes were ready to close, and before they did the last thing I captured with them was a small drill perforating, crushing and penetrating my eye sockets. They were eviscerated as the rest of my insides.

I passed out

I was unsure how much time I remained like that.

But when I woke up I felt little to nothing.

I could see again, but everything felt so colorless.

My arms...I can't move them, neither my legs nor my head. I'm panicking, yet the air is not going to my nose. What was happening now? How was I alive?

I tried to ask for help again, but this time I could just barely hear a "Mmmph" trapped inside my throat.

"Hey! You are finally awake! good! great! Now let me make a quick introduction to you, just for you to take care of yourself with the new body replacements, what not to do, and what rules your owner must consider."

Owner? What did she mean by that?

"Your entire body is composed of only 2 elements of your original old body, heart, and vocal cords, make it 3 if we talk about the hair transplant. You are filled with purely cotton, and the skin replacement you got is some expensive silk fabric, so it is better for you to avoid extreme humidity to prevent mold from growing on you, the new eyes are 2 black buttons, stitched of course, your image will be really bad in color and distance but the quality should be good enough. The rest of the head and relevant remaining features of the body are made with silicon, but like the nose, they do not have any functional use. The mouth is sealed, completely stitched in a smiley shape, we don't want to see you sad now, do we? the collar is an accessory, remove it and you die. But I do not recommend you to do that, if you believe in hell well, you are in for something far worse. And As for your owner, if she breaks you the warranty only lasts 6 months, after that we make a charge depending on the damage, you give her that message, you will find a way. You will recover motion control in a few hours, probably soon after delivering you. That's about it..."

Before I could even start to process anything of what the surgeon told me, I saw a shadow being cast over me, and then I was lifted to meet the surgeon's eyes. Green eyes filled with cruelty. She was examining me, every detail of my body, picking up my limbs with 2 fingers and giving them a soft squeeze before letting them fall by gravity. She was proud.

"That outfit does make you look really good, want to see?"

She then lifted some sort of mirror in front of me, and then I could see myself. She raised my head by pushing it lightly with her thumb, there was I. A lifeless body, almost inanimated, I could feel touch, hear, and see. The colors were weak, but I was dressed from head to toe in some type of elegant butler's attire. My face was completely ruined with a fake expression of slight happiness. My collar had some sort of attachment on it, and I was not excited to know what use they were going to give it.

Soon I was placed inside a box, and my will to fight was not there anymore, what life could I ever expect? The only human thing I had left was my still resonating heart, useless vocal cords that could barely create a sound, and a figure so weak and fragile I could barely feel any type of control in my new form.

But soon I would meet my "owner". The person who asked for this, the one who made this living nightmare happen to me.

I remained inside the box for a few hours, I started moving my limbs back again, they felt very light and also hollow. I tried to stand up once, but my legs felt weak, and couldn't hold my body for long before I fell again to the ground. Eventually, I could hear footsteps, small quakes surrounding me, and after that, I got the sensation of being lifted as if it were some sort of elevator.

The gates of the box above me got opened, and I was faced with the most horrifying truth, something I was not considering. A familiar face.

"I-I can't believe it worked."

Her trembling and soft voice, her long messy hair, and those tired eyes that once used to cause me such comfort now were a reason for my heartbeat to increase in panic. It was my ex-girlfriend, she was the one behind this...

"I am sorry for doing this, but I missed you so much..."

It's been almost 3 years

"I could not think of anything else besides you, I needed you back, but I knew your answer."

I wanted to block her from everything, I thought she had no way to reach me anymore.

"This time we can be together, the right way because this time I won't let you go away."

Her slender fingers reached me as I tried to crawl away from them until I hit the corner of the box, with no escape I let go of sound, a remnant of what could be an attempt of begging. Beg her to release me, to stop this madness, but it was all too late.

She closed her right fist slowly around me, leaving little space for me to escape, she caressed my face with her left index, and I could do nothing to get away from it.

"You know this can be easy for both of us, you just have to behave, to care and love me back as you used to, to be mine and only mine...Forever and ever. Because you are mine, my only precious doll."

She whispered while keeping me close to her chest, breathing in some type of relaxed manner to ease my nerves, but the only one getting that relief was her. My life was reduced to being a toy, one that could not even fight back her finger, always at her grasp, at her sight. With little to no chance to see the light of day again.

By the end of the day, my enclosure was a doll house she had built for me, right beside her bed, but she was not ready to leave me on my own yet.

As I could hear the rain starting to pour in the streets, she held me close in the bed, she was asleep as I tried to get the weight of her hand out of me, to get far from the warm air of her resting breath, but none of my movements caused an inconvenience.

Soon, as time passed, the only human thing I had left were the tears I released in silence while she rested, and dreamt about me.