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malleleothreesome · 5 months

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Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand.

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property.

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic?

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater.

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous.

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air.

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this.

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest.

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined.

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor.

Fellow feels his pants tighten.

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will.

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show.

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks.

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful.

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream.

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes.

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates.

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront.

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll."

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours."

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

#Fellow Honest #Fellow Honest Smut #Twisted Wonderland Smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst fellow honest x reader smut #twst fellow honest smut #ferro honest #ferro honest smut #twst fellow #twst ferro #fellow honest x reader #ferro honest x reader #twisted wonderland fellow honest #stage in playful land #my writing

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bitchlessdino · 7 months

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Dearest friend (m)

pairing: bsf!seungcheol x afab!reader Genre: angst, smut Word count: 2.8k tags: unrequited love, mentions reader in heels and wig, mentions of TOXIC romantic relationships, public kisses, unprotected sex, please let me know if im missing anything Summary: When you're in a toxic relationship, there's no way of understanding that right away. There's typically much trial and error, such as Seungcheol and his unsuccessful relationship with his on-and-off partner that he keeps getting you involved in. In one of the countless schemes to get them back, things take an unexpected turn with you, his best friend, who does something that may change their dynamic forever. author note: I'm back lovies. hopefully for longer this time. teh wedding planning has honestly kept me very busy but i've finally got back in tune with writing again. let's see how long this last.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @himbocoups

He had been with them throughout high school. Throughout college. Into their mid-twenties. Before anyone could realize it, a decade had passed.

You were friends, his specifically, and you lived through every suffocating second while trying to balance your own lack of love life. Night after night, bouncing from body to body, one candlelight dinner to another, and for nothing to come out of it. You weren’t one to judge the relationship coming apart and sewn back together redundantly.

However, this on-and-off relationship had become a constant in your life–one both annoying yet entertaining depending on the circumstance–as well as their mind games that they constantly used to get back together. And they wonder why it never fucking works (you’re practically screaming it into the void).

This was their off period and for Seungcheol one of the most terrifying periods to have. This instance in particular because it’s the rare occasion that his ex was actually out on a date with someone. That’s when he conjured up a plan, a despicable one. One that not only would so-called ‘help’ his long-time former lover to realize what they’re missing being apart from him but would put you in a deeply comfortable situation.

You’ve been a part of of schemes before, but they were usually surprise events, mitigating, or simply becoming the one end of Newton’s cradle, providing collision and causing friction until the balls lose momentum. This assistance unfortunately required more participation on the field, and you preferred being behind the scenes, but Seungcheol had forced your hand.

“You look awkward. Stop slouching.”

You offered the man a quiet, but deadly, middle finger at your waist as you struggled to stand in the tight outfit he deemed necessary for the plan to work.

It had been a while since you’d seen his ex, enough time that they wouldn’t recognize you, especially after the extreme makeover Seungcheol decided to bestow upon you on a random Friday evening. You can’t emphasize enough that what you were doing wasn’t by your own will. Your best friend just really knew how to push your buttons. It was as if he had the manual of the ways you operate. Now you were wondering how you had yet cut him out of your life because of it.

“Fuck you, you blackmailed me into a pair of heels and a wig.”

His lips tugged up at a single corner, pulling you by your waist as he noticed his ex’s eyes flicker towards them. He mused in a smile as his lips drew closer to your ear intimately, fanning his breath against your cool cheeks. “The eagle has landed in the coup,” he whispered, blatantly ignoring your complaints.

“This is so…stupid.”

He erupted in boisterous laughter–emitting feigned warmth and life–as he trained his eyes on you. “You’re so cute,” he tucked the locks of the wig behind your ear, softly hurting his teeth as he spoke through them. “Laugh.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha.”

He scoffed lightly enough that it couldn’t be detected from afar, caressing your arm to maintain the facade. “That was awful.”

“Well you’re unfunny and this is an unfunny situation.”

“But it’s working,” he retorted, giggling to himself. “They can't bear to take their eyes off of me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to pay attention to his hand softly stroking your waist. You’ve managed to get past its initially ticklish sensation until it became as natural as breathing. You sighed exaggeratedly, causing him to brush against you closer. He sharpened his features, stern written all over his face. “Take this seriously or they’ll see under our ruse.”

You scoffed. “It’s so painfully obvious. They’re not an idiot.”

The tip of his nose brushed against your cheek, and he could practically feel the rage radiating off his target as they too pressed closer to their date in plain sight. You felt his smile against your skin, festering body heat until it was seething. “Tell that to them who’s giving me sex eyes right now. God, they look amazing.”

“Really? I’m right here,” you said light-heartedly, trying to joke in the awkward situation.

“Shit, why do they look like they're trying to leave?”

“Uh, maybe because they’re in the same room as their ex? Seriously. Think, Cheol.”

Impatience was never Seungcheol’s favorite activity. He was as jittery as a child with sugar. “Kiss me.”

You squinted at him accusingly. “Excuse me?”

“We need to really push them to the edge.”

“Yeah, but is kissing necessary?”

He determinedly nodded. “Yes, absolutely. Just do it.”

“Now hold on, let’s think about this.”

“You do it or I will.”

“Fine!” Your hands reached out for his collar, tugging him against you to crash into his silky, pillowy lips.

Even after his persistent pestering, the kiss came as a surprise to Seungcheol, who found the pleasantry in record time. His once stiff hands on your body simply melted around your figure just as your lips have and the warmth both comforting and delicious. Arousal pooled between your clamped legs, your hands tightened their grip on the cotton of his shirt. You could feel every muscle of his firmly wrap around you like a safety blanket, while his jaw engaged in following your pace. You flushed under his touch and your knees were losing strength as they buckled, nearly falling to the ground.

Seungcheol picked you right back with his palm flat over the small of your back, feeling the thud of your unresting heart beneath your clothes. Your hand crept against his cheek, his teeth softly pierced your bottom lip and pulled in his direction, muffling your whimpers between his lips. The position of his hands, squeezing your flesh shocked you back to consciousness and finally you jerked away, meeting his eyes long enough to see the darkness in them.

Your gaze fell to your feet, the whisper of his kiss lingering on your skin. “Are t-they gone,” You asked in a flustered hush.

For the first time, his eyes are finally on you. Truly in you, as if you were the only other person in existence. “Why did you pull away? Why did you stop?”

“I-I don’t know. It felt right to stop.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” The crook of his finger pulled you by the chin and brought you right back where you were, enraptured by the spell of his lips, somewhat more intoxicating than the first instance.

Your fingers combed through his hair as the small gap of your mouth is filled with his presence. Your vessel vibrated, tingling in the dryness of your throat as he moved against you starved, not at all bothered by the marble bar counter rearing in his lower back. His grunts were addictive, drunk without the substance. Without fearing doubt, you swallowed your pride–and Seungcheol’s lips–you fully took advantage of the current circumstance.

A fire kindled in Seungcheol’s stomach, instigating a roar that could only be tamed by the furnace of your body clenched to his sides. The mumble of his name on your lips was mistaken for a moan, and maybe it was, revving Seungcheol’s engine until determined to take you here and now, in the middle of a crowded bar where anyone could see.

Before the moment could prologue, your hands flattened against his chest and shoved him, gasping for air while he was frustrated to have been interrupted again. He met your eyes, ready to scold you, until he registered how shakey your presence was with eyes barely able to level with his. His watch softened at you as he reluctantly let go, overwashed with a sense of shame. “Hey, I—“

“I’m gonna take a second in the restroom. Please.”

He nodded, guilt seeping into his throat, droughting what was inside. “Okay.”

The second the door stall closed behind you, you took a deep breath and tightly shut your eyes. You rubbed your hands over your chest, feeling it pulse under your palm. Inhale and out. Shallow panicked breaths escaped the narrow gap of your lips, trying to relive the overwhelming pounding.

Right about now his ex must be throwing themself at him and they're seconds away from being sewn back together. Just like always. You expected this. You’ve accepted this. This was how things always were.

Why aren’t you over that by now?

You mustered whatever courage you had within and forced your feet out of that restroom, facing exactly what you expected, Seungcheol’s ex on him like a wild animal around fresh meat. You tore away from the scene immediately retreating to take the closest Uber out of the bar as soon as possible.

You abandoned your disguise near the door, hearing your wig fall limply to the ground. A sound of relief escaped your lips as you trodded off to the bathroom to wash away the grime of sweat and embarrassment. Your tears fell in sync with the shower head that enveloped you in desirable heat. Heat that you wished belonged to a body instead of a body of water. Your hands felt your face as you sobbed, knowing it wouldn’t escape past the bathroom door, or your apartment being alone, once again, like you always have been.

After the night you’ve had, you’re ready to go back to your regular routine and forget the mental break of indulging in fantasy. You were only meant to ever help a friend and now that friend is back where he should be: in the arms of someone he actually loves.

As toxic as their dynamic may be at least there is something romantic about it. You and him have been and will always be just friends, a side plot to the main story in his life. You are simply a pawn in this twisted game of chess and you have no one to point blame on but yourself. You let this happen.

Gathering your pathetic self to your room, you drowned in your duvet, cuddling up next to your pillow and burying your face in the fabric. After some time of thinking and crying, you at last find slumber, determined to erase any and all thoughts of your best friend.

As though this night couldn’t get any worse, someone else had to ruin your sleep too.

Annoyed, you rustled out of bed to head to the front door. Your heavy steps move with reluctance, fisting over the door knob as it swung open and suddenly you’re wide awake. He stared back at you, eyes glistening, shoulders falling at your comforting site. “Hey.”

“Hi,” You greeted back softly. “What—What happened? You and—“

“They asked me to come back.”

You blinked at him, stretching a faux smile on your face. “That’s great. That’s amazing! That’s exactly what you wanted…So why are you here?”

“Uh…” He closed the door behind and you let him step inside, placing himself dangerously close to you. “I said I’d think about it?”

“What? It’s all you’ve been wanting the entire time you were apart. The system, Seungcheol. The system.”

“I don’t know. I just wasn’t sure anymore after…”

You waited for him to finish for as long as you could. His steps towards you only resonated louder, prouder. Everything in you told you to back down, yet you stood your ground and met his eyes in anticipation. “After…?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Well, what does that mean…Cheol?”

Suddenly, it was so much harder to breathe and his body got only closer and closer, tightening your airways and overwhelming your senses. You didn’t push him away when his lips daringly landed on yours, hands finding purchase on your cheeks as you softly caressed them like fine china. Your torso lined up with his as you tossed your arms around his neck, deepening your connection.

He parted briefly to reassess the situation, the tip of his nose timidly tracing over the bridge of yours. “It means I want to…explore this more. Whatever it is.”

“And them?”

He shook his head. “They’ll have to keep on waiting because I can’t stop thinking about you since that kiss and by the way you're looking at me…you can’t either.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” he begged, “Please.”

“You can’t tell me you aren't still madly in love with them.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I was. Do you think I would be here if I didn’t have doubts?”

“… I don’t want you to end up doing something you’ll regret…forever.”

His hand clasped against your cheek, adoring the vulnerability that glows in your gaze. He admired your soft features, drinking in the quiver of your kiss-bitten lips as the flutter on your delicate lashes shielded from his bold light. He held you closer, drawing his lips nearer, and he breathed a breath of defiance. “I don’t think I regret a single second I’m with you.”

The kiss you shared didn’t express a moment of doubt, only flurries of passion as your clothes found their way to the ground. He kissed down your navel, balling fists of your flesh, nipping at your skin, inhaling your clean scent. You said his name in a swoon, bounded to him like warm clay, melting into one another with no points of separation.

Your hands roamed up his upper back, palming at his shoulder blades. He softly winced as your nails dug into his skin, his tongue lightly licking at a spot that emits the most sound from your lips. Your name on his lips comes in your ears, churning your stomach, burning your thighs. Your legs clamped to his side, feeling the brush of his cock as it twitched in your direction.

You ached to be filled, climbing his build in desperation. His familiar tufts of hair found their way between your fingers until you pulled, eliciting his starved moans. You beg and beg, meeting his eyes with much desperation. He was kissing your body, embracing you with so much love, but you knew you wanted more. More of him.

Seungcheol seemed to be a mind reader as he was already positioning himself. He towered over you with gratitude in his eyes, gratitude for the trust you gifted him. The vulnerability you finally gave into. The body and love that you once hid. He would appreciate it and not waste a single second to do so.

With a single hand caressing your face and one on his cock, he watched your eyes change as he plunged inside. He felt your thighs come up to the sides, hooking around his torso. He jerked his hips, memorizing the shape of your walls, and how they massaged him well, squeezing every inch of him until you were filled. Your head knocked back into the sheets, your nails now clawing up his arm. “Cheol…”

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I want to take care of you,” he admitted, “Let me know if anything goes wrong.”

You nodded back, accepting his kisses as they became signs of worship. He would touch every inch of your body, fill your warmth until it was coated in thick, sweet arousal of your own doing. He whispered your name, moaning sweet praises. “You feel so precious in my hands…I want your body and soul to bind with mine…I don’t think I could ever forget what this feels like…”

He moved faster, his hips buckled harder, and your fingers indented into the smooth texture of his back. He kept thrusting deeper and harder inside you until it was a blissful pain but you don’t remember ever replicating. With his sweet cherry-shaped lips on yours, you feel your sweat mix into a cocktail of pure delicious nectar. He mouthed a flush of your skin, clutching you to his body like a man getting mad, unwilling to give up his most prized possession.

His groans became ingrained in your brain and you felt waves of arousal stagger you, paralyze you. Your mouth dropped. “Oh god…” Your hands trembled. Your toes curled. “That’s so good, more please.” You begged and begged and begged and begged—

A knock at the door. A panicked one that.

You rose from bed, empty, cold alone. Your hand ran over your head, feeling the clammy, distressing remnants of your wet dream. Overwashed with guilt, you reluctantly pulled the covers off and got out of bed, dragging your feet towards the door, ignoring the wig that stared back at you in your peripheral. It swung open the familiar way it does, and déjà vu hits you.

Seungcheol stood before just like once did in the dream. He walked closer towards you, and word seemed to halt in your throat.

“They asked me to come back.”

Having already rehearsed this in your mind, you stretched in another fake smile, finding its chirp through your tired voice. “That’s great. That’s amazing. That’s exactly what you wanted. So why are you here?”

“I-I don’t know…I just thought I should tell you. Um, thank you.”

You nodded solemnly. This was reality after all. “Glad I can help as always.”

“You really are a great help. I’m lucky to have you as my dearest friend.” He grinned, not quite reaching his ears as if holding back something secrets he couldn’t bear either.

You didn’t think much of it and smiled. “Of course. Dearest friend.”

#svthub #seventeen smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen #seventeen angst #seungcheol angst #scoups angst #choi seungcheol angst

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amyyythestarry · 3 months

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Smiling Critters HCs!

( Mostly Dogday and Catnap )

I’ve gotten interested in Poppy playtime, especially with the smiling critters and me and my sister literally just came up with random hcs and scenarios for them if they had a cartoon. So now I’m sharing the ideas.

Catnap always sleeping.

Dogday and Catnap are the main characters of the show, but Dogday is the only one who is actively committing the role.

( Not to be confused with this being a thing where they are acting in the show or anything. Like, they’re literally just in the show. If that makes sense )

Catnap, in every episode, is either sleeping, observing what’s going on and not really participating that much, or not in the picture in that episode. In this is just something with every episode of the series.

He can sleep automatically, just drop to the floor and knock out. So I feel like he’d use that ability to his advantage, to get out of trouble.

Scenario: Miss Delight comes into the critter’s playroom (?) and asks if anyone ate the last of the cookies and milk without permission.

Everyone is confused, because they’re all saying they didn’t do it. So they just assume someone’s lying, and they argue about it.

Catnap’s asleep somewhere in the corner.

He was sleepy before, but he made himself look busy with napping so nobody would suspect he ate the cookies and milk.

2. Copycat ( Literally an episode name me and my sister created. We are the best brainstormers ever ).

Dogday and the rest of the smiling critters are always trying to get Catnap to play with them/participate in what they are doing.

I imagine Catnap as one of those characters in cartoons that are semi-nonverbal, and just aloof, definitely. So he doesn’t speak much. He can, just doesn’t.

This is an early episode, apart of S1 or something, when they still haven’t heard Catnap say much of anything to them. Sure he plays with them sometimes, but the instances are little to nothing.

They’re in a park for recess, the smiling critters are just playing around with each other and everything. Catnap is in a tree trying to sleep.

And like in literally every episode/day, Dogday notices that Catnap isn’t hanging out with them, so he and his friends goes up to the tree and calls for him.

They all keep calling Catnap’s name, trying to get him to join their game of tag. And little do they know Catnap is kind of tired of their sh** and noisy pestering.

“Hey Catnap, come down and play tag with us!” - Dogday.

Catnap finally turns around to acknowledge the critters, looking down at them from the tree.

“Hey Catnap, come down and play tag with us.”

He purposely mimics what Dogday says.

And Day just replies with a small ‘what?’.

The critters all look at each other, swearing they just heard Nap speak.

“What did you say, Catnap?” - Kickin Chicken.

“What did you say, Catnap?”

Now the critters are actually shocked.

“Catnap, did you just speak?!” - Bobby Bearhug.

”Catnap, did you just speak?!”

He does this enough times to confuse everyone now. And then they actually start to get weirded out and they call Miss Delight.

”Miss Delight, Catnap is acting strange!”

Then Nap walks in suddenly, staring at all of them ( Kind of creepily ), as he says,

“Miss Delight, Catnap is acting strange.”

This continues for the whole episode. Just him copying what his friends say. But ONLY if it mentions his name. Because he’s tired of them always calling his name anyway.

I don’t know how the ep might end, but the smiling critters still bother Nap after the episode his over, and as he has already stopped with the copycat game. That is also deemed as the first time in the show that Catnap has spoken. Not the last, obviously, he continues to talk whenever he needs to, but it’s still kind of seldom.

3. Dogday’s allergies.

Dogs can’t eat a lot of things, so I think Day would not be allowed to eat a lot of things like a realistic dog.

It’s an episode where the critters are enjoying themselves during a picnic, Delight isn’t really around because it’s not a school day.

Picky Piggy offers some cookies to everyone that she made herself, and everyone takes one. Except for Dogday.

His excuse is that he oddly always feels sick whenever he eats chocolate chip cookies specifically, so he doesn’t try to eat cookies much.

Picky just pulls out another cookie flavor, oatmeal chocolate chip, and gives it to Day.

Day takes it, thinking that since this isn’t chocolate chip, it wouldn’t make him feel sick!

After eating two of those cookies, he does in fact feel sick. His stomach hurts and his bones exhaust.

Miss Delight makes him feel better with some special stomachache medicine or something.

All of the critters are confused and curious about this, so they try giving Day other cookies because they think not being able to eat cookies is just devastating.

So the whole episode they all make Day taste different cookies, to see which ones make him sick and which ones don’t. Not like an experiment, just to figure out why can’t he eat cookies like the rest of them.

At the near end, Day feels terrible, and they all go to Delight this time, enlightening her about the cookie problem.

And it instantly clicks to Delight once the children tell her what kind of cookies they’ve been giving to Dogday. M&M, double chocolate, cocoa confetti, and even red velvet cookies.

“Children…. You know, dog’s can’t eat chocolate, right?” - Delight.

They all did, in fact, not know that. Miss Delight tells them about it, and they finally understand why Dogday keeps feeling sick when eating cookies.

By the time Day’s also came to the realization, he vomits, the episode ends.

The next one is probably about Day’s friends taking care of him because he’s sick.

Which leads to my next hc anyways.

4. The conclusion of Dogday that Catnap doesn’t like him.

The reason why Dogday thinks that Catnap doesn’t like him, is because it somehow always seems like Nap is trying to kill him.

One of the instances, he’s always giving Day things he can’t eat.

Literally right after the cookie accident, only two days later, and Catnap gives him a treat of chocolate chip cookies. And milk. Both things Day cannot eat.

Scenario: The smiling critters are having breakfast together, in Miss Delight’s house as she makes them pancakes, eggs, bacon accompanying with vegetables and fruits of their choice.

Nap is sitting next to Day. He has pancakes and purple grapes, he loves grapes. Day has bacon and blueberries, giving that he’s not allowed to eat pancakes ( Diary ) and blueberries being his favorite.

Nap decides to be nice, and give Day some of his food, since he heard from Delight that sharing is caring.

He gives Dogday a grape to show kindness.

And Day only looks at the grape kind of confused. He asked why Nap would give this to him, and Nap doesn’t answer.

So Day just gently placed the grape back on Nap’s plate, telling him ‘no thank you’.

Then a minute passes, Dogday looks over at one of his friends for a bit of a second, and turns back at his plate to get another blueberry.

He sees a blueberry bigger than the others that wasn’t there before. It’s actually purple and not blue.

And oh. It’s a grape.

He turns to Catnap, and sees that the cat is only happily eating his pancakes and grapes. But still gives the fruit back to Nap.

“Sorry, bud, I can’t eat this..”

Catnap looks at him, and doesn’t say anything.

Dogday still side glances at Nap for a little while, to see if he’d do anything. Nap doesn’t do anything. He looks back at his plate. And is utterly bewildered on why all of his five blueberries are gone and why they’re now five purple grapes.

He swears Catnap did not move.

He doesn’t know that Catnap just used his long tail to put the grapes there.

Now he can feel Nap’s eyes on him, and knows he’s expecting him to eat the grapes, so he’s a little nervous.

Day doesn’t eat the grapes, and just tells Miss Delight that Nap keeps trying to get him to eat grapes.

Also, after the cookie accident, Miss Delight thought it was good to teach the kids about what their kinds ( Their animal kinds ) can and cannot eats especially dogs like Day.

Catnap was not listening the whole lecture, so he really has no clue why Day didn’t take his grapes.

I’m gonna make a PT 2!

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vintagesimstress · 9 months

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1850: Night at the Opera (in collaboration with The Royal Thornolia Chronicles)

After my months-long Celtic spree, the time has come to briefly return to my old era of interest...

May I present to you a small 1850s set, made together with amazing Ali, the author of @theroyalthornoliachronicles! We're both so excited to finally share it with you all 💗 Make sure to check Ali's post for her half of the collaboration - practically necessary if you want your mid-Victorian gentlemen to be properly dressed for the evening!

While Ali dealt with the men, I focused - surprise surprise - on the ladies. And made two evening dresses, both inspired by the same fashion plate from ca. 1850:

If you follow Ali's story, you probably remember that a certain mademoiselle Eleanor Valery wore the dress on the right to an opera event. The dress on the left also made a short appearance, as it (or rather: its beta version) was worn by my simself Cecile, who was kindly invited to participate in the evening as well (no, that's not my real name. I just asked my husband to give me a random female French name, and that was the first thing he came up with ;)). And so both dresses are named after those characters: Eleanor and Cecile.

Both come in 29 swatches and I swear all of those colour combos come straight from mid-Victorian fashion plates - even if Ali claimed some of them remind her of 1980s Barbies ;)

polycount: ca. 17K for Eleanor (that's HIGH my friends, you have been warned. Believe me or not, it's mostly the fault of all those tiny deco flowers) and 7,5 for Cecile

Base Game compatible

HQ mod compatible (pictures taken with the mod)

Cecile uses glass shader for lace transparency = won’t work properly in laptop mode

all LODs

custom thumbnails, bump and specular maps, lots of satin shine

tagged as everyday and formal

found under long dress subcategory

colour tagged

disallowed for random

PDNs included if anyone wants to make recolours. You don’t need them for the mesh to work.

You might notice that they vary slightly in style, and that's because I put an insane amount of work into texturing Cecile, as somehow I couldn't get it to look any satisfactory with my usual methods. I love the result, but the whole process was so convoluted that I'm not even sure if I could still retrace all the steps, let alone redo Eleanor in the same style. So we're left with this small discrepancy between both dresses. Hope you don't mind!

DOWNLOAD on my Patreon (free, no ads or early access)!

And now, once again, jump over to The Royal Thornolia Chronicles for the other half of the goodies :)

#ts4cc #adultfemale #victorian #victorian sims #victorian cc #1850s #formal #ball gown

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yelena-bellova · 9 months

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are

Plot: A chaotic press conference precedes a match that ends in violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor violence

A/N: I’m gonna chalk this week’s chapters up to having some free time and also being really motivated to get to the next few. Phew, let me tell you…this is the last chance I’m giving y’all to breathe. The final act kicks off in the next chapter and we don’t stop till the very end…so everybody enjoy the fluff and the jokes while you’ve got them 🙃

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged and, as always, enjoy!

————————

AFC Richmond’s hot streak just…kept…going.

They were killing it, both at matches and training. More importantly, they were happy. Joyful, even. Which meant everyone else was too.

More and more fans started showing up to watch training till eventually, the stands were packed. Y/n had begun to come out more often, genuinely enjoying watching the boys practice, and had found a way to make it a PR matter. She helped get the crowd riled up, engaging with them and encouraging them to cheer and chant for their players. She’d collected whatever merchandise they had a surplus of, pens or coffee mugs usually, and made a game of handing them out to the fans that came. Ted had encouraged her to keep doing it, it only further fostered the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Y/n hurried upstairs one day in particular, having missed the alarm set on her phone while she was hauling a bag of freebies from the gift shop to her office. She was never late and felt like she was going to burst into flames for being so.

“Whoa,” Ted called, just a few steps behind her, “Someone call Allyson Felix. Let her know she better watch her back.”

Y/n hung back on the landing to catch her breath, falling back in step once Ted caught up. “We ran out of the mugs the other day but I’ve got coasters and coozies for this afternoon.”

“Ooh,” Ted exclaimed, “You’ve been killin’ it in the swag department, missy. Everyone’s a little more hyped knowing they get a prize just for participation.”

Y/n grunted, “Trophies for doing nothing is also why my generation hates work, so don’t applaud me yet.”

They entered Rebecca’s office laughing only to find the atmosphere contrasting their good moods. Spread out on the couch, Keeley had her face buried in Rebecca’s lap.

“Uh-oh,” Ted announced his presence, “When girl-talk turns into girl-hug, you know that either means something horrible’s happened, or absolutely nothing at all.”

“Please say nothing at all,” Y/n set her purse down and grabbed the takeaway box Rebecca had ordered for her.

“Jack’s ghosting Keeley,” their boss explained.

“Oh, no,” Ted frowned.

Y/n sunk into the cushion beside Keeley, rubbing her shoulder as the blonde snuggled back under Rebecca’s arm.

“First, she wants to go on a break,” Ted recounted, “And now the old digital Irish goodbye. Which is a term I never really understood. ‘Cause I got a buddy back home named Seamus O’Malley, and that son of a gun hugs folks goodbye for, like, twenty minutes before he leaves anywhere.”

Y/n smiled down at her salad. The last few months may have softened her, but decades could pass and Ted would remain the same.

“Yeah,” he looked to Keeley, “Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I did make you some biscuits, you know, just to soften the blow.”

“Oh, thanks Ted,” Keeley took the pink package from him and opened it. Her eye blew open, “What? There’s like forty quid in here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna be here till this morning,” Ted explained, “No time to do anything special so I just tossed a little cash in there.”

Keeley nodded, “That is very sweet. Thank you, Ted.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it,” he shrugged, turning to Rebecca, “Hey, boss. You mind if I skip the press conference today? Michelle and I got these parent-teacher meetings I don’t wanna miss.”

Rebecca shrugged and smiled, “Of course, Ted. Family first.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So…” Y/n trailed off, “Who’s next in line?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over Keeley’s head. “We could have Roy do it,” she suggested, “I know he hates that stuff, but he is really good at it.”

Y/n struggled to see the “good” part of how Roy handled the press. On her last count, he’d cussed out no more than six reporters.

“I mean, you know, fine by me,” Ted replied.

Rebecca agreed, “Great idea.”

“Look at you,” Ted smiled at Keeley, “Heartbroken, but still kickin’ butt.”

“I mean, I’m not heartbroken,” Keeley fidgeted in her seat, “It’s more like heart-bent.”

“Heart-bent,” Ted mused, “I like that. It’s a great title for a country song. You know, like,” he began to sing, “I’m heart-bent, in my apartment, ‘cause all that you left, was your fart scent.”

“Alright. Goodbye, Ted,” Rebecca cued him up to leave, though Keeley was laughing and Y/n was smiling through a bite of spinach.

“And now that you’re gone,” Ted continued on his way out to the hall, “I wrote this song, ‘cause all you left was, the smell of your farts.”

Y/n pointed to the door with her fork, “Speaking on behalf of our homeland, we can do better than that.”

Rebecca snorted and Keeley rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Right,” she held out her hand, “Show me.”

Keeley handed it over and Y/n bore witness to the mile long chain of texts her boss had sent their boss. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Y/n wasn’t about to kick Keeley when she was already laid out.

“Wow,” she strained as she scrolled.

“I know,” Keeley moaned.

“It’s like a river,” Y/n mused as she surfed the rest of the blue bubbles, “Can you promise one thing?”

Keeley hummed.

Y/n handed her phone back, “No more. She’s the one that stomped on you, she gets to do the groveling.”

And grovel she should. From what Keeley had told Y/n, Jack had handled their conversation regarding the video leak and the so-called “statement” horrifically. Jack seemed offended that Keeley had dared to have a meaningful relationship before her. It was jealousy where jealousy didn’t belong.

Whereas Y/n was still struggling to comprehend Jamie and Keeley ever having been together.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Keeley threw her phone on the other side of the couch, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Y/n nodded firmly.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?” Keeley asked with a raised brow, “Nothing else?”

Y/n purposefully filled her mouth with a far-too-large bite of lettuce. She had plenty to say on the matter, Keeley knew damn well, but she was determined not to do so unless there was a confirmed break-up. After all, Jack was still their boss.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

Rebecca and Keeley descended into a fit of snorts.

Later, the three women were were seeing Keeley out to her car. Roy was just coming down the hall when they came off the last step.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Roy replied before looking to his ex. An awkward silence came about for three seconds, though it felt like much longer. “Keeley.”

“Roy,” she nodded back to him.

Rebecca, blissfully, pulled them out. “So I need you to fill in for Ted at today’s press conference, if that’s okay.”

Roy didn’t hesitate in his reply, “Fuck no.”

Keeley, Rebecca and Y/n were just as unflinching as they waited for the answer to change.

“I mean,” Roy backtracked, “Why can’t Ted do it?”

His eyes went from woman to woman, waiting for one of them to answer or crack or…something.

Or nothing.

“I mean,” he pasted an unnatural grin to his face, “I’d love to.”

Y/n pointed a finger and nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca replied, looking to Keeley and Y/n, “Shall we?”

The three of them left Roy in the hall, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Fuck,” he said rather loudly.

“I heard that,” Rebecca smirked.

“You still have my word,” Y/n remarked to her boss, “Send me up there, I’ll give them all they want to know. Sell everybody out. We’ll be on every front page in the country.”

Rebecca laughed, though Keeley missed it entirely. She was too busy glancing back at Roy.

—————————

Later in the afternoon, with the press conference a few minutes away from starting, Y/n swung by her office to pick up the notes she’d jotted down for Roy.

As she grabbed her notebook, she noticed there was a tea sitting next to her laptop.

She picked it up and examined it. It had come from the café, her name was written on the side in the big loopy handwriting Delilah, the barista, used. Assuming she wasn’t being set up to be poisoned, she took a sip and accepted the anonymous kindness.

Y/n made it down to the press room, meeting Higgins in the back and waiting for Roy to enter.

The door opened, and Beard walked through.

Y/n’s face dropped, “Um…”

“Where’s Ted?” Higgins asked.

“Where’s Roy?” Y/n corrected, “He’s supposed to be filling in.”

Beard took his seat at the desk, “Good afternoon. I know you all were expecting Ted, but he couldn’t make it today. I, however, will be happy to answer any and all questions, so,” he gestured to the desk filled with recorders and phones, “Fire away.”

Y/n took a breath, it wasn’t so bad. Beard, while not always the most sociable, was well-spoken and highly intelligent. He might have even been a better choice than Roy for his mood alone.

She regretted every thinking such a thing within two minutes.

“Look, man,” Beard sat back in the chair, “We can debate all day, Zeppelin versus Eagles, but one thing that is absolutely not up for debate is Walsh versus Page.”

“Oh, come off it,” the man fired back, “You honestly think it’s Walsh over Page?”

Y/n whispered to Higgins, “How did this go so far off the rails this fast?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

She handed him her tea, “Hold this.”

Y/n quietly and calmly exited the room, breaking into a light jog in the hall and up the stairs. She knocked on Rebecca’s open door but didn’t bother to be invited in.

“Hi,” she greeted quickly, “Um, did something happen to Roy in the two hours since he was last seen?”

Rebecca’s brow lowered, “No, why?”

Y/n thinned her lips to a line, “You might wanna come downstairs.”

Without question, Rebecca followed her down and into the press room. Things had taken another turn in the minute Y/n had disappeared for.

“That is not what I said, Gary,” Beard angrily pointed to the reporter in question.

“I have your quote right here,” Gary chuckled.

“You did say it, Coach,” another on agreed.

“Stay out of this, Lloyd,” Beard snapped.

“Don’t shout at Lloyd,” Sarah, another reporter, said.

Y/n flattened her palm against her forehead.

“You said, and I quote,” Gary looked down at his notes, “‘Joe Walsh is a better guitarist than Jimmy Page.’ That’s what you said!”

Beard leaned back in his chair, exasperated by the fight he’d started. “Fine! I said it,” he spread his arms out in defeat, “But what I meant was that Joe Walsh, underrated. Jimmy Page,” he got stuck on the last word in his rage, “Overrated!”

The room was arguing amongst itself.

“I mean, Joe Walsh is a poet,” Beard went on, “Jimmy Page is a fucking court stenographer on Adderall.”

As the room digested the answer in shock, and amusement, Y/n reached out to Higgins, retaking her tea and taking a large swig as if it were wine.

“Are you out of your mind?” Gary laughed, “Page could beat Walsh with one string.”

“What do you mean, beat him?” Beard replied angrily, “It’s not a competition, man. It’s art, you fucking Neanderthal!”

Y/n, Higgins and Rebecca surged forward at the same time.

“Hello,” Rebecca cheerily announced, trying to draw the attention to herself while Higgins grabbed Beard, who was still arguing with Gary. “Hello! Hello!”

Y/n acted as a shield for Higgins as he walked Beard out of the room, dropping him in the side hall. But not before Beard could get in one last insult.

“‘Stairway to Heaven’” is a glorified fingering exercise, and you all know it!”

Higgins smiled at the press as he shut the door, Y/n blindly reaching behind to help him push against Beard’s weight.

“I can’t think of the last time I was able to be here with all you absolutely…” Rebecca spoke loudly over the noise of Beard still yelling into the door. Y/n and Higgins blocked his face from view. “Just brilliant members of the press down here in the pressroom. So with that in mind, I would love to take some questions. Come on,” Rebecca spread her arms welcomingly, “Absolutely ask me anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t any better.

Marcus from The Independent announced himself when Rebecca nodded towards him.

“Hello there, Marcus,” she greeted, “How are you?”

“Very well.”

“Good, good.”

“Miss Welton,” Marcus asked, “In your opinion, who’s the greatest classic rock guitarist of all time?”

Rebecca stuttered a bit, stuck on the question that had her blanking out on any rock she’d ever listened to.

“The, uh…” she struggled, “The…guy from Cream.”

Higgins snorted, Y/n buried her head in her hand as the pressroom quietly and collectively laughed.

“Uh…” Rebecca began.

“I think,” Y/n came to stand beside her boss, grinning abnormally large, “That in the wake of our recent wins, we’re all still a bit hazy from the excitement. I think we’re going to call this for the day, but we’ll be ready and waiting for you after the match this Sunday against Brighton. Thank you so much!”

Y/n placed her hands on Rebecca’s back and marched her towards the door.

“Uh, Ms. Y/l/n,” Marcus spoke up, “Care to comment on who you think the greatest guitarist is?”

“Keith Richards,” Y/n answered, “Purely because he’s still standing.”

Whatever reaction she’d caused, she didn’t hear them. Her and Higgins had gotten Rebecca safely out into the hall.

“Sorry about that,” she shuddered.

“You’re alright,” Y/n patted her shoulder.

“‘The guy from Cream,’” Higgins giggled.

“Yes, all right,” Rebecca twisted to face Higgins, “Don’t start with me, Leslie! I panicked,” she took a seething breath, “I’m going to murder Roy Kent.”

“If you don’t, I will,” Y/n exhaled.

“Look, Roy not doing press is just Roy being Roy,” Higgins stated.

Y/n gestured to the door they’d just come out of, “And look where it got us.”

“Well, I am sick of Roy being Roy,” Rebecca spat, hands on her hips, “So it’s time for Rebecca to be Rebecca.”

Without another word, she marched off in the direction of the training room. The boys would nearly be done with their afternoon workout.

“Oh, yes,” Higgins agreed, “Absolutely- I couldn’t,” he turned with Y/n to watch Rebecca strut away from them, “Yeah. There you go. Yes! Ooh!”

Y/n breathed a laugh, if anyone rubbed off on her from Richmond, she hoped it was Rebecca. There was a fierceness inside her that Y/n had never possessed in her life, but she’d have liked to.

“Stay for the aftermath?” Higgins asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Y/n nodded. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to stare down Roy.

Quick enough, Rebecca marched back up the stairs, Roy following thirty seconds later. While Higgins’ best frown was still his worst smile, Y/n glared at the coach unflinchingly. He did his best to ignore them both on the way up to Rebecca’s office.

“Another day,” Y/n mumbled, her and Higgins heading their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon.

As she walked down the hall, some of the boys came out of the training room. She high-fived them before coming up on Jamie, bringing up the rear.

He flicked the cup of tea, still in Y/n’s hand, and smirked. “Cheers.”

Y/n looked back and met his waiting gaze, the two of them sharing a smile. The days at Nelson Road grew more unpredictable the further into the season they got, but some things were as constant as breathing.

——————

The day of the Brighton match started as normal as any other. Y/n made the familiar trek to the owner’s box, taking a seat between Keeley and Higgins, and braced for the ninety minutes of nerves she both hated and loved.

“Oh, it’s Jack,” Keeley announced as she scrolled her phone. The three of them sat to attention as they waited to hear the text, “She’s saying that she’s in Argentina…for the next couple of months.”

“Ouch,” Higgins commented. Y/n scoffed while Rebecca pulled Keeley into her side.

“Well,” Keeley took a breath, “I think our break is actually an ‘up.’ So now that Jack is officially my ex,” she looked between the group, “Please feel free to say any of the things that you didn’t like about her.”

Rebecca sighed, “Well-“

“Ooh,” Higgins chimed in, “Her handshake was way too firm. You know-“ he groaned and grunted as he imitated the action, “I get it. You’re friendly. Good riddance.”

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep the comments from flying out her mouth.

“Something you’d like to say, Y/n?” Keeley asked knowingly.

Shaking her head, she tried to go the diplomatic route. “Just want to watch some football.”

Keeley slowly nodded, staring out at the field with her.

“And she’s a fucking asshole,” Y/n muttered as low as she could to let only Keeley hear it. They smiled to one another.

Right off the bat, the Greyhounds were struggling. Isaac, usually so focused, was off his game. He cost them a goal kick and earned Brighton a corner instead. It wasn’t like him and the fans were letting their displeasure be known.

Even worse, when Colin lost an easy goal, Isaac went after him. The two of them argued until Jamie and Sam, playing peacemaker, held Isaac back from following Colin any further.

Y/n frowned, something had to have happened before the match. The boys were far more in sync than this, and they sure as hell didn’t fight each other.

The first half ended on the heels of Dani just nearly making a goal, only for Brighton to block it. The score was 1-nil as the Greyhounds trudged back to the locker room.

Higgins, Y/n, Rebecca and Keeley went silent as the fifteen minute break began. There wasn’t anything to say.

Y/n’s eyes were glazing over the crowd on the opposite side of the stadium when a commotion started. She followed the noise to the tunnel to see Isaac, leaping into the stands and grabbing one of the fans.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled. Keeley, Rebecca and her all rose to their feet.

With the distance, the scene could hardly be seen properly, but it appeared that Isaac was holding the fan by the shirt and yelling in his face. The ref had never pulled the red card out so fast. It was unprecedented and unacceptable.

Higgins rushed out his seat, the women moving to make room for him down the aisle. Y/n’s eyes followed Roy as he helped Isaac down and started shouting something to the security guards.

The scene died down as quickly as it began. The fan was escorted out of the stadium and the Greyhounds disappeared into the tunnel.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley breathed.

Internally, Y/n began to feel some sort of panic build. She couldn’t decipher the complexities of it, all she knew was she had to move.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as Y/n slid past them.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled Keeley’s same answer, already climbing the stairs.

She hurried through the suite, past all the fans opening social media to post that they’d witnessed the fight themselves. Past all the fans in the concourse exclaiming how McAdoo was about to fucking kill the twat. Y/n couldn’t hear any of it as she made for the personnel-only entrance into the building.

When she made it to the empty hall outside the locker room, she faltered. Her immediate reaction would be to run in, but she knew it was far from appropriate. Her hand instinctively reached toward the door, even with feet of space between her and it. She couldn’t.

Nearly as soon as she’d thought it, Isaac came bursting through the door, unaware of her presence as he stalked to the boot room. He slammed that door shut and Y/n flinch at the sound.

Ten seconds later, Roy came out much more peacefully, but still with purpose.

Y/n stepped forward, her movements and her voice hesitant, “Hey-“

Roy could see the concern etched deeply in her face and touched her arm as he passed. “I got it.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t scowling, wasn’t speaking like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. For him to speak softly, to voluntarily comfort someone, he had to have meant it.

Y/n stood frozen as he shut the door to the boot room, all the pieces of her reaction making sense suddenly. After Isaac had attacked the fan, her first thought hadn’t been about PR. It hadn’t been about the clean-up her and Keeley would have to do, the stress of it all. It hadn’t had anything to do with what the internet would think or the fans or anyone.

Her first thought was to wonder if Isaac was okay.

She knew by now she cared about AFC Richmond. She had a special affection for Rebecca and their weekly tea. Keeley had cracked her way past Y/n’s gates simply by being herself. Ted was the nicest slice of home she could have gotten.

This was different. This was caring so deeply for the team that she was standing in the hall, unmoving until she knew they were all alright.

It was no longer about letting them in, Y/n knew, it was about how deeply etched in her heart they were.

She waited, waited, the whole fifteen minutes, hearing only the muffled mumbles of the team’s conversation through the doors. When they cheered and exited the room, their spirits seemingly lifted, none of them even noticed her against the wall.

Y/n moved to stand outside the boot room, catching Colin and Trent as the last ones to exit the locker room. Trent threw her a small salute that she matched, before heading out to his own seat. She still wasn’t leaving until she knew all was well.

Eventually, Roy came out of the boot room with Isaac in tow. The disgraced captain glanced up at her as he passed, Y/n made a point to squeeze his arm. He didn’t flinch at her touch, but didn’t make a point of lingering as he headed to the locker room to wait the game out.

As Y/n inhaled, Roy nodded, “He’s alright.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The two of them walked back to their separate paths, Roy heading out to the pitch and Y/n heading back to the owner’s box.

The match turned around after that, tremendously so. The Greyhounds had hit the pitch united once more, particularly Colin, who’d assisted in both goals that had led them to victory. Balance seemed to have been restored, and while Isaac would still be the most memorable part of the game, Colin’s efforts wouldn’t be forgotten.

And, as always, Y/n’s work began the moment the ref called it.

There were strict instructions from both Keeley and her to Higgins not to grab any of the players. They’d no doubt be asked about their captain’s actions and none of them needed to deal with that stress. Ted was the only one who could comfortably handle it.

They waited with Rebecca in the back of the room, Higgins and Trent joined them at the last minute.

“He’s on his way,” Higgins said.

“Thank you, Leslie,” Rebecca replied before turning to Keeley and Y/n, “You gave Ted some talking points?”

Keeley frowned, “No. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Not for a while,” Y/n added.

The side door opened before Rebecca could truly begin to worry. Where Ted should have strolled in, Roy did instead.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, punctuated by a gag from Higgins.

Roy took a seat at the desk, staring down the entire room. No one was wearing their surprise well.

“Yeah, alright, you got me today,” he growled, “Any questions?”

Every reporter’s hand went up, all of them shouting to get Roy’s attention.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled before pointing to one of them, “You. Five-o’-clock shadow head.”

Gary, self-proclaimed Jimmy Page fan, stood up. “Coach Kent, do you or the organization condone what Isaac McAdoo did today?”

“What a stupid fucking question,” Roy was quick to reply, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n all screwing their eyes shut. “‘Course we don’t. What Isaac did was awful. He was lucky he only got a red card.”

“Okay,” Gary relented, “So why’d he do it?”

Roy chuckled, looking like he was nearly about to say something before stopping himself. Instead of cursing or snarking, he settled back in his chair.

“When I was first coming up through Sunderland, there was an old-timer on the team,” Roy began, “Local guy. He and his wife were about to have their first kid. So during training one day, I made a joke that statistically, I was probably the real dad. And the boys fell about laughing, but he went fucking nuts. He battered me. Properly. I had a black eye, chipped tooth, three broken ribs…I couldn’t play for six games. He got booted off the team. After that,” Roy shook his head, “No club would go near him.”

“Then in the summer, after I could breathe again,” he went on, “I bumped into him in a pub. And I got the chance to say sorry for my stupid fucking joke. And he got to tell me he and his wife had lost the baby a month before all that went down. He hadn’t told anyone. Kept it all inside.”

The room had fallen hush, save for the occasional click of a camera.

“Look, I get that some people think if they buy a ticket,” Roy’s voice regained its strength, “They’ve got the right to yell whatever abusive shit they want at footballers. But they’re not just footballers. They’re also people. And none of us,” he dragged his finger across the room, “Know what is going on in each other’s lives.”

“So for Isaac to do what he did today, even though it was wrong,” Roy pointed to his chest, “I give him love. And as for why he did what he did,” he leaned closer to the microphones, “That’s none of my fucking business.”

That was it. There was nothing left to say. Roy had handled it with more grace and patience than anyone could have expected.

Y/n smiled to herself, “Okay.”

“Next question,” he called to the room, which erupted back into shouts and flashes, “Yeah, new Trent.”

“Coach,” Marcus spoke up, “Let’s talk about Colin Hughes.”

“Yeah, he’s a hell of a player,” Roy answered, “And a great man. I think we’ve underused him.”

“I think you’re right,” Marcus said.

“Glad we agree,” Roy replied, “I prefer you to old Trent.”

The room laughed before Roy called on the next reporter. Rebecca and him shared a look of acknowledgement, this was making up for his ditching of the last presser.

Roy went on answering questions a few minutes longer before abruptly calling it. As everyone was saying their goodbyes for the evening, Y/n caught him in the hall.

“You did good,” she complimented.

Roy grunted a little, still bad at taking praise about anything other than his professional abilities. “Sorry if I…made your job harder the other day.”

She shrugged, “No more so than anyone else. You’re just more of a dick about it.”

Having said it with a smile Roy knew Y/n wasn’t serious…totally. His lips quirked up ever so slightly.

“Night, Roy,” Y/n said, hitting his arm as she walked past him.

“Cheers,” he replied, heading his own way.

—————————

While the day was a victory, Jamie was exhausted. Some of the boys had gone out to celebrate, he was one of the ones who decided heading home was more appealing.

A ring of the doorbell dragged him off his couch and into the entryway. He opened the door, his chest both filling and draining at the sight.

Y/n was leant against the frame, a soft smile on her lips. She held up a paper takeaway bag.

“I won’t tell Roy if you don’t,” she promised.

Jamie chuckled under his breath and moved to let her in.

It wasn’t just the match that’d worn Jamie out. Colin’s confession in the locker room was…heavy. Weighing most on Colin, of course, but when the celebratory noise had died down and Jamie was left to his own thoughts, he found they were louder than normal.

Y/n showing up only acted as an amplifier.

Here was Colin, hiding away one of the biggest parts of himself. Forced to keep the person he loved in the shadows for fear of the public’s reaction. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t be seen with them, couldn’t claim them. The person who meant everything to him.

And here was Jamie, with the woman he cared about most standing before him, feeling the weight of his privilege.

“Samir was working tonight,” Y/n announced as she slipped off her shoes, “He kept asking me if I was buying for us both. I think he slipped in some extra-“

She was cut off by Jamie, wrapping his arms around her in a full embrace.

Jamie wasn’t good with words. He was barely good with feelings. And expressing them was a whole other matter. What he did know to be true was that Y/n was the singular most important person in his life. Whether he’d realized it before or not, he wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly crushing him, he was overwhelmed by his affection for her. She was the best part of his worst times, the highlight of his days. The literal sunshine lighting up the darkest parts of him, the parts everyone else looked at and ran from. But not her, never her.

Y/n stumbled a bit, Jamie steadying her as he tugged her to his body. It wasn’t like they never hugged, but this felt different. The whole day had been so emotionally charged, she wasn’t surprised that he was feeling some of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the locker room between halves or after the game, but whatever it was had done something to him, and she apparently was the solution.

The truth was, Jamie was the first person Y/n hadn’t tired of being there for. She wanted to save him at every possible opportunity. To be there for him in whatever way he needed her. Lord knows he had done it enough for her. He’d looked at her ugliest parts and matched them, the two of them somehow growing together through their horrible histories. Some relationships were easily replaced, but there could never be another Jamie.

Y/n slid her arms around Jamie’s back, stealing some of the comfort for herself.

Jamie rested his chin on her shoulder, shutting his eyes and letting the moment wash over him. The world could stop, just for a moment, and it would be there when they broke apart. But for now, Y/n was all he wanted to feel.

They stayed in the hall, clinging to one another, having only unwrapped the first layer of what all they felt meant.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #heartfirst

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scoonsalicious · 4 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, human trafficking.

Word Count: 949

Previously On...: You watched some home movies of Jade in her Hydra facility. It was... disturbing, to say the least.

A/N: Rock me, rock me, rock me, Sexy Jesus! He died for our sins, you gotta believe us! Seriously, Hamlet 2 is a gem, and now this song is stuck in my head forever.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You and Bucky were silent as you closed your laptop. What could one say after watching a person you knew, personally, rip through a group of people as though they were wrapping paper on Christmas morning? There were no words.

After several long minutes, Bucky finally spoke. “After seeing that,” he said, “I think it’s all the more reason to make sure you don’t leave this safehouse unless you absolutely have to.”

“Yeah,” you said, devoid of all your previous fight. How could you argue with him about your safety after having seen that?

Bucky looked at you in surprise, as though he had expected you to challenge him. He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said. “Alright. We need a game plan. Did you come up with any leads about that Chloe girl that we can follow up on?”

You sighed. “Yeah,” you said, opening up a new tab in your browser. “So, Chloe mentioned her family was having money problems. I was able to figure out where her mom and step father do their banking; I thought we could take a look at their accounts, see if there’s any unusual activity that might point to them getting a share of her auction price. Then maybe we could trace the deposit back to whoever did the sale.”

“You think her parents knowingly participated in trafficking their own kid?” Bucky asked in horror. “Pocket, that’s dark.”

You avoided looking at him as you opened up a backdoor into the accounts in question. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to do when money gets involved. Not even a mother/daughter bond is immune from that kind of greed.”

Bucky’s gaze on you was almost tangible in its intensity. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to envision a mother betraying her child like that; sometimes I forget you had to live it.”

“But you told Carthage about it,” you said softly. “At the mission debrief. When she said trafficking was below our paygrade.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky turned your chin so you were facing him. “I told her that human trafficking was something you and Nat both cared very deeply about stopping; that’s it.” He frowned. “I don’t expect you to believe me and that’s okay, but I would never divulge your past to anyone. Not when I know how few people you trusted with that information. I just wanted her to stop acting like it was some kinda game and to treat it as seriously as it deserved to be treated.”

“Oh,” you said after a moment. Something in his words rang true, but there was still the lingering doubt that he was being honest. “Don’t worry about, Barnes,” you said, studiously avoiding eye contact as you breached the bank’s security system. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

You could feel him staring at you, and you didn’t need to be looking back to envision the look he was giving you— the one that let you know he thought you were full of shit. Fortunately, he allowed your lie to pass without another word while you continued to breach the bank’s system.

“Okay, I’m in,” you said after a moment. Bucky got up and came to stand behind you, looking at your monitor over your shoulder.

“Anything?” he asked.

You scrolled through Chloe’s stepfather’s transaction history. Liquor stores, smoke shops, some escort services. “Real classy guy,” you murmured. And then, you hit it: the night Chloe had left the club for good, there was a substantial deposit made to the account in the amount of $250,000.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I figured he might get a cut, but I had no idea it would be that much.”

Bucky let out a long, low whistle. “If that’s their finder’s fee, I can’t imagine what the final sale was for.”

You were furiously copying down the depositing account’s information. “I’m going to send this info back to Nat,” you told him. “See if they can reverse-search it and find out where the money came from. Once we know the source, we might be able to break into their systems, get info on who won the auctions. Maybe some of the other girls are still alive…” Your voice trailed off. You were too jaded to allow yourself to hope you could save all of them, but if you could save even one…

Bucky began moving toward the apartment’s front door, grabbing his leather jacket from where he’d hung it on a hook.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, closing your laptop and standing up.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” he informed you as he put the jacket on. “I’m going to go have a little chat with Chloe’s stepfather, see if there’s any additional information he’d like to generously offer us. You are going to stay here, locked securely behind the door and not opening it for any reason until I get back.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the images of Jade moving through the Hydra compound, slaughtering everyone in her path rose to your mind. You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.” Bucky released a relieved sigh, then walked over to you, kissing the top of your head. “If anything happens, call me, and I’ll head straight back. If Carthage shows up, there’s a gun in the bedside table. Aim to kill.”

“Obviously,” you told him. “I’ve only been fantasizing about it since I found out about Russia.”

“I’m being serious, doll,” Bucky said. “Now that we’ve seen what she’s capable of, I don’t want you taking any chances.”

“Yeah,” you said as you walked him to the door and opened it for him, “I was being 100% serious, too.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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picardsims · 20 days

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Picardsims' 3k CAS Challenge

Sooooo I hit 3000 followers!! In order to celebrate, I invite everyone to participate in my little CAS challenge/contest!!!

Rules: Pick an apartment with a backstory that speaks to you (or multiple) and make a sim/family (your pick on whether you want to make the whole family or just one sim) who could live there. CC allowed, anything is allowed really. In two weeks (so, 22nd of April) I'll pick 3 of my favorites to get a prize! If you win, you can tell me any 3 build-buy items and I'll make them for you! (deco, unless it's something I 100% know how to make functional :>) In order for me to see it use the tag #picardsims3k (and tag me!! I'll see it sooner probably but I'll look at everything in the tag promise) Without further ado:

Apartment #1: Ro Kaya 62/1

Sims: 2 This apartment belongs to an elderly… couple? Two friends? Nobody knows and they're too scared to ask. You can find the tenants of this apartment in the hallway or on their balcony, keeping tabs on the neighborhood. Nothing gets past them. If you get on their good side, you will get invited for tea and get treated to fascinating stories from the past.

Apartment #2: Ro Kaya 62/2

Sims: 5 Is there enough space in this apartment for this married couple, their twins and their toddler? Definitely not. However, they just finished renovating it when they got pregnant (may or may not have been an accident), so it's not like they're going to move now… How long can the parents survive sharing their bedroom with their little one?

Apartment #3: Ro Kaya 62/3

Sims: 1 Their whole life, this Sim has wanted to be an artist. That didn't sit right with their straightlaced doctor parents, who refused to support them through art school. On impulse they moved to Tomarang and befriended a local painter, who allowed them to stay in their old apartment. Now that they're an award-winning graphic designer, their parents are finally trying to reconnect. Will they let them back in? Or is their chosen family the only one in their heart?

Apartment #4: Ro Kaya 64/1

Sims: 2 A single father raising a teenage daughter… What could go wrong? He's obsessed with plants, she loves gaming with her friends. She's mad he keeps putting plants in her room, he's mad she keeps putting laundry on the floor. However, no matter how hard they fight, there's nothing a midnight session of making pancakes together cannot fix.

Apartment #5: Ro Kaya 64/2

Sims: 2 After their grandmother passed, moving into her apartment was a dream come true for this Sim. Not so much for their partner. You see, grandma ran a very popular bakery, and they're supposed to inherit the business — sounds great, except they don't like baking all that much. One partner whose entire life has revolved around cakes and cookies, one partner who only uses the oven to make frozen pizza — can they handle the challenge? Or will their relationship crumble like bread with too much flour?

Apartment #6: Ro Kaya 64/3

Sims: 5 Two couples and one single person, this apartment sure is crowded. However, when you're just starting college, that doesn't sound all that bad — the rent is low, and there's always someone to party with! However, they'll soon learn it's not all loud music and cheap drinks — there's a line for the bathroom and you're never sure whose turn it is to vacuum (not yours though, that's for sure).

Remember: the tag is #picardsims3k, the deadline for the prize is 22nd of April (feel free to keep it going longer though!) and I'm incredibly thankful for each and every person who follows me (I am not kidding though dm me pictures of those pets I know you have them)

Enjoy! kotpicard

#picardsims3k #sims 4 #cas challenge #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 cas #sims 4 cas challenge

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fanfiction-blep · 1 year

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Hi! Any chance you’d do a Navi miles x reader where they’re both crushing on each other so the rest of the recoms come up with a plan to make him jealous so he’ll make the first move? Maybe like Lyle full on hitting on her or something? Thank you 😊

This is so cute and wholesome. And the first thing that popped into my head was this scene from new girl...

Fuck It~

Warnings: Implied smut, Pining, alcohol, party, plotting. light makeout session.

I was leaning against the far wall of the room. Watching the party ensure from a distance. Recoms and humans alike, mingling, swaying to the music vibrating off the walls. I lifted the red cup to my lips taking a generous swig smirking at Z-dog arm wrestling with Lyle. The booming chorus of jeers and yells almost overwhelming.

"how you doing?" the voice of my colleague taking me by surprise. I looked over to her, shaking my head.

"We're not talking about it"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about my feelings for him" Almost on cue, Miles laughed, his head thrown back as he finally let loose for once. I was glad he needed to let loose once in a while, I don't think I'd seen him relax like this, ever. It just confirmed what I feared most. He hated me.

I've known it for some time not this is why I keep my distance, he was cold around me. Distant, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. He would flinch at my touch and excuse himself at any given opportunity. It hurt, each and every time. Every side eye, every snort at my views or input. It made me smile, just an inch. Before his eyes fell on me, and the smile dropped. And his laugh faded. I instinctively walked away, heading to the kitchen adjacent to the common area where this 'party' was being held. I needed a drink. I poured twice as much alcohol into my cup, I was done. I had to get over this crush. These feelings the longing to have him hold me, to feel him. I had to push through it, because clearly he felt nothing other than disgust for me. Angela joined me in the kitchen, her eyes softening at my irritated state.

"You don't know how he feels" She whispered placing a hand on my shoulder. I snorted at her statement beginning to feel stupid for even having feelings.

"You do?" She smirked at me turning away walking back into the main room only looking at me again to throw a wink over her shoulder.

"Lets play a game" She called, half the room stopping in their tracks to stare at her.

"Oh what are we? teenagers?" Miles shook his head, I couldn't take this any more. I stepped next to Angela and forced a smile.

"I'm in" Miles' head snapped in my direction, I couldn't see his face but Lyle who was in my direct line of sight was smirking making eye contact with Angela. And in that moment I knew I fucked up, this fucker knew and Angela had something to do with it. I kept my cool and tried to play along, I was sure of one thing. No matter what Miles wouldn't be participating. "What we playing"

"Lets mix things up a little, each put a personal item in a bowl whoever's stuff you pick" He paused for dramatic effect "You have to spent some alone time together, whoever's item was picked has to dish out of the bowl next" He leaned behind him pouring a bowl of crisps on the floor and thrusted the bowl in Angela and I's direction. I slipped off my necklace, a delicate gold chain with my initial hanging from the metal. I dropped it in the bowl, Angela dropped a ring. Lyle his dog tag. Another human scientist placed his phone throwing a wink my way, I lowered my gaze and angry blush dusting my cheeks. I saw Miles stand up from the corner of my eye he slipped his own dog tag in the bowl. A few others added their items but I was frozen. A few rounds went by the bowl getting passed around Angela got her turn, Z-dog leading her into the room. I was forced out of my own mind when Lyle called my name. I looked up to see him dangling my necklace between his fingers, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. Making a quick glance over at Miles before walking over to me draping an arm over my shoulder.

"play along" He whispered low, like he would afraid someone would hear. He ushered me into the room quickly locking the door behind us.

"Lyle, I'm not interested I am so sorry if you have gotten to wrong impression." He let out a low chuckle at my words.

"I ain't tryna put the moves on you. Don't worry, its all a show" He leaned against the counter next to the sink.

"For who?"

"Oh you know" And based on how all this has gone down, I defiantly did.

"He hates me, I don't know why you are trying to torture him."

"Oh this is torturing him alright." I didn't get the opportunity to question him further before loud banging sounded on the door.

"Common you guys"

"It's only been five second, it was just getting good." He said the last five words quieter however who ever was on the other side heard and laughed. Nothing was making sense and I irritated and bored now.

"Let's get my turn over with." I snapped at him, pushing past him and barging out of the room. Everyone's eyes were instantly on me, I felt like a deer in headlights. Miles had his back turned his shoulders tense, Angela look apprehensive she was trying to talk to me with her eyes but the elephant in the room was obvious. Miles didn't want him around me or his friends. His flattened ears and his thrashing tail told me more than I needed to know. I stormed over to the bowl pulling out the first thing that grazed my fingers. I pulled out a dog tag. My heart fell, my throat got tight. I pulled the metal into my palm and read the name. Miles Quaritch. "Shit" I breathed looking and seeing Miles staring at me, his eyes wide. "Lets get this over with" He stands up hands running over his face. I was beyond annoyed at this point. I had never been anything other than nice to this man I had been polite and kind and he treated me like I was a piece of gum on his shoe. So when he leaned against the counter facing the wall opposite him. Not saying a word not a single word.

"Have fun in there love birds."

"Shut it Lyle"

"Idiot" I huffed, Miles huffed and shook his head. "I get that you hate me but you don't have to act like being in here with me is some kind of punishment."

"Punishment? you think this is the punishment?" He turned to me eyes narrow and angry i backed away instinctively, he slowly inched closer to me with every word. "No the punishment was being sat out there knowing Lyle had his hands all over ya" He sneered eventually backing me against the far surface the corners biting into my mid back. They were higher to accommodate the recoms.

"He didn't do anything to me, I told him I wasn't interested in him" Miles was shocked by my words so much so he backed away from me.

"But he said-"

"I don't care what he said" I snapped anger rising in my stomach I had had enough of this man. "You know what?"

"What?" He sighed not looking at me anymore.

"I like you" His eyes met mine widening. "But you hate me, this is the first time you've looked me in the eyes in months, you clearly find me repulsive cus you wont let me touch you and god forbid i talk about you. You run out the room faster than a cat on fire."

"I won't look you in the eyes because seeing them look up at me? reminds me how beautiful you are every time. I won't let you touch me because all it does is make me want to hold you, have your bare skin against mine. I leave when I hear your voice I wanna hear ya scream my name" He had started leaning down his face inching closer and closer to my own. "I wanna hear all the noises that I can get ya to make"

"Miles" I breathed heavily I heard him mutter a low 'Fuck it' before he dove in. His lips capturing my own in a passionate grip. His fingers pushed their way into my hair. His tongue pushing past my lips as he worked against them. He was really good at this, I felt like I couldn't breath His other brushing against my thigh.

"Jump" He mumbled into my lips, I did as I was told. Gasping as he placed me on the counter behind us and standing between my legs his crotch grinding against my own.

"Miles" I whined pushing my hips forward.

"Not here, not like this." He gasped pulling away from me cupping my face in his hands and resting his forehead against my own. "Imma take ya out, then Imma bring you back to my bed. Sound good sweetheart?" I nodded biting my lip. He groaned at the sight and pressed a kiss to my nose. "Good girl"

#na'vi miles quaritch series #miles quaritch fluff #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch #smut fic

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myosotisa · 2 months

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Sleep Well - m.m.

Matt Murdock x Reader

‖ summary: You're still awake when Matt gets home, allowing him the opportunity to coax you into bed with him.

‖ tags: fluff, like rot your teeth sweet fluff. established relatonship, sharing a bed, you know he's daredevil. gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nicknames for reader are sweetheart, baby, and buttercup.

‖ word count: 1.4k ‖ Read on AO3

It is with a small amount of concern that Matt notices you’re still awake by the time he gets back from his ‘night job’. He can tell pretty quickly what you’ve been doing all this time – the buzzing hum and the heat coming off of your overworked desktop suggest many, many consecutive hours of playtime.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s found you still awake and gaming when he came home, but it is the 4th night this week. And while it might be a bit hypocritical of him, he’s a bit worried about your lack of sleep after so many late nights.

You must have your headphones on because you don’t react when he drops into the apartment, remaining blissfully focused and unaware as he strips out of his gear and slips into the bathroom to clean up.

He is genuinely surprised when he successfully gets through bandaging a couple scrapes and changing into a pair of pajama pants without drawing your attention. You’re normally pretty aware of your surroundings, even at home during the night, so you must be extremely focused on whatever you’re playing. It’s got him curious, for sure. He normally asks about the games you’re playing; he could listen to you ramble on and on about the gameplay mechanics and storylines and what you enjoy and what you don’t enjoy for hours. He can’t really participate himself, and some of the things you say goes right over his head, but he follows along as best he can and asks follow up questions just because he loves hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It helps that you seem to enjoy getting to talk about it too.

Resolving to ask you what you’ve been playing recently that has you so fixated, he finally walks up behind you and lays a careful hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

You still jump in surprise, an inevitability no matter how gentle he was, and immediately slip your headphones off of your ears. “Hey, how long have you been back?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in amusement as he presses the tips of his fingers into the tense muscles at the base of your neck. “About 15 minutes or so. You were really tuned in.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly, heat pooling in your face in a show of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that. Everything go okay tonight? Need anything patched up?” You’re quick to turn your rolling chair toward him, legs unfolding from under you as you move to stand, but he uses both hands on your shoulders to keep you firmly seated.

“Everything’s fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises. I’m all cleaned up already,” he reassures you, noticing how you immediately relax back into your chair as his thumbs press into the knots along your shoulders. “Have you been having fun? You’ve been playing a ton recently.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda put a disgusting amount of hours into this game since it came out,” you admit bashfully, rubbing your palm along your jawline. “I wasn’t planning on staying up again tonight but I guess I lost track of time. Sorry, Matt.”

He chuckles, his voice rougher from time spent playing the Devil, and squeezes your shoulders a few times in what he hopes is a comforting matter. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one who is going to be grumpy in the morning.”

His teasing makes your face heat further, which only delights him more. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to deal with me being grumpy in the morning,” you murmur, looking back over to the screen to click through the process of saving and quitting.

Warm, strong hands still firmly on your loosening shoulders, he leans down to graze the tip of his nose along the shell of your ear. “Well then it’s a good thing I know just how to fix your grumpy moods, isn’t it, sweetheart?” His warm breath skates across your neck to match his low-toned voice, both things together succeeding in sending a shiver down your spine.

Setting your desktop to shut down, along with the lighting around your space, sends the room into a comfortable darkness. “Careful, Murdock,” you warn playfully as you learn back further into his secure touch, “keep saying things like that and we might not be sleeping at all.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, before he presses a firm kiss to your temple and stands upright again. “Well, we can’t have that. I need all the beauty rest I can manage.”

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yeah right’ but don’t resist as he coaxes you out of your desk chair and toward the bedroom. He keeps his hands on you all the way, leading by your shoulders or your hips or your waist. When he deposits you on the edge of your side of the bed, he gives you another sweet kiss on the forehead while a promise to be right back.

He returns with 2 glasses of water, handing one to you and requesting you drink a good portion of it before he brings his own up to his mouth. You’re momentarily distracted by the strong lines of his body as he raises the glass – the subtle bulge of his bicep and the flex of his throat as he greedily swallows the water down. You’re still staring when he lowers his glass again, pink lips glossy with water and his unfocused eyes narrowed slightly in mischief.

“Watching me drink water doesn’t count as drinking water yourself,” he remarks with a cheeky grin, slightly tipping his glass toward you. “Drink up, buttercup.”

Firmly rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude, you still tip back the glass and drink at least half all at once. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you had gotten while gaming, and feel your heart warm with love at Matt having realized that and forcing some water in you to keep you from going to bed dehydrated.

Wonderful, horrible, thoughtful man.

After determining you’ve had enough to satisfy him, he easily takes the glass from you and sets it on the table beside the bed, even though you were more than capable of doing so yourself. By the time he rounds the bed to his side, you’ve tucked yourself beneath the duvet and laid your head down on your pillow. When you’re both fully settled, you let out matching sighs of contentment, which makes you both laugh softly.

“Y’know, as much as I worry about you not getting enough sleep, this is nice.” He rolls onto his side toward you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand reaches out to brush against your arm. “Coming home to you still being awake, getting ready for bed with you, having your voice be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep…” He trails off with a happy sigh, looking entirely too warm and cozy and happy for your heart to take.

Scooting across the silk sheets toward him, he easily welcomes you into his arms, folding one around your shoulders as you rest your head on his bare chest. “Matthew, if you don’t stop being so adorable right now, I’m going to eat you.”

He chuckles again, this time more movement than sound, and squeezes you in tighter against his side. He’s radiating warmth – and the lull of his steady breathing and safe hold on you has your eyelids getting heavy fast. Dropping his voice down to a near whisper in the dark, he rasps, “I could say the same thing, baby. But right now we need to get some sleep.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, letting your eyes fall closed as you snuggle into him and settle. After several moments of breathing deeply and enjoying the comfort of the moment, you whisper a, “Hey Matt?”

He mumbles a deep, “Hmm?,” while sounding on the edge of falling asleep already.

Tipping your head back to look up at him, you take a deep breath and feel compelled to remind him, “I love you.”

His lips twist in a smile though his eyes stay blissfully closed. “I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

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