#yes i know i look like a woman. i don’t fucking care what style you think will look good on me
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Why the fuck are hairdressers so fucking reluctant to do the job you’re paying them at least $50 to do? If I’m telling you to go shorter, I’m not telling you to ask me five times in a row “Are you sure?” I’m asking you to go shorter. If I show you a picture of a haircut that I want and say “I want to look like that” I’m not asking you to cut it how you think will look better, I’m asking to look like that picture. If I tell you “I’ve gotten it cut like this before, I know what I want” I’m not asking you to tell me how hesitant you are to cut my hair in the style that I asked you to, I’m asking you to do the fucking service I’m paying you for
#sid rants#sid bitches#sorry. my bf got a haircut recently and told me how the hairdresser said similar stuff#and it brought up all my repressed anger about me getting my hair cut#yes i know i look like a woman. i don’t fucking care what style you think will look good on me#i am ASKING you to go shorter#i literally will show this bitch a picture of ME with a haircut i want and she will refuse to go anywhere NEAR that short#unless i repeatedly say ‘more off please. more off please. MORE. PLEASE.’#one time she deadass took the cape and whatnot off before asking me if i liked the style. AND I DIDN’T.#AND I JUST HAD TO LIVE WITH A SHITTY HAIRSTYLE FOR MONTHS
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Fratboy! Gojo when reader decides to leave (maybe she saw a movie or show or something talking about people like Satoru who manipulate innocent naive girls) and he's like oh shit this is actually happening and tries to stop her
Maybe he promises he'll change but he still keeps manipulating her the slightest bit and with more mundane things (he thinks he's protecting her)
passionfruit ୨ৎ
3k words :3
“ya know—you’re not the first girl gojo has done this to, right?” you’re pulled from your psychology book. the library is deathly quiet and even with the girl speaking in a hushed tone, her voice still rings. your eyes take in her appearance; short cut hair that’s in a straightened bob, makeup that compliments her face structure and complexion well. every detail, from her meticulously styled hair to her carefully chosen makeup, speaks of a woman who knows herself and embraces her unique beauty with effortless charm. she exudes this confidence that makes you sit up higher in the chair and straighten your back.
“excuse me?” you’re absolutely confused as to what she’s referring to. your hold on your book tightens as you feel yourself growing defensive as the seconds tick.
she gracefully invites herself to a seat at the polished wooden table, her movements fluid and poised. as she settles into her own chair, her posture remains straight, radiating a sense of elegant charm. beside her, a luxurious dior handbag rests upon the table, its sleek lines and gleaming hardware is even more evidence of her advanced style. the supple leather exudes opulence, subtly reflecting the ambient light in the room. in her presence, the atmosphere seems to shift, filled with a sense of poise and sophistication. every detail, from the way she holds herself to the choice of accessories, speaks to a woman who understands the power of elegance and carries it with unwavering confidence.
“i’ve known gojo long enough.” she ignores your offended remark. “he takes pretty girls like you, and breaks them.” she looks directly into your eyes with every word, hoping that her words get through to your head. “let me guess, he buys you all that you want. sometimes you don’t even have to ask him. it all feels so good, huh? having an attractive guy doing whatever for you. you love it don’t you?” her tone seems condescending and it angers you.
you drop your book onto the table. her eyes examine you like a hawk. “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” you frown.
“oh, honey. yes i do.” she gives you a pitiful smile. she almost feels bad for you, you’re so naive and it’s painfully obvious. she knows how satoru gets down, she knows his thought process, she knows how he likes to break down women. “i was you at one point.” she points at herself. she makes to pronounce the word you hardly to get you to understand.
you bite down on your lip. you’re at a loss for words. she seems so serious and it’s hard for you to convince yourself that she’s lying. you can’t understand why she’s doing this, though. why did she come up to you? is she being petty or is she genuinely caring for your wellbeing? you can’t decide.
“i was the new girl on campus, no friends, very little confidence. but i had some fight in me. and gojo loved that.” she explains. “all i’m saying is that once he corrupts you and fucks up your way of thinking, he’s gonna throw you to the side and find a newer toy. i’m speaking from experience.”
it almost feels like you can’t breathe. you’re staring at her with widened eyes and your bottom lip is trembling. her words place a seed of insecurity in your head that quickly sprouts.
“h-he wouldn’t.. he-”
she cuts you off with a sigh .”yes he would. and i’m telling you this now so that when it happens you can think back to this conversation. remember vividly that i told you so.” she says before standing up. with a fluid motion, she rises from her seat, the soft fabric of her pencil skirt rustling gently in the quiet of the room. there was a purpose in her movements, a determination evident in the way she straightens her posture and squares her shoulders.
in the stillness of the moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if acknowledging the significance of her departure. and as she turned to leave, a fleeting glance over her shoulder hints at a depth of emotion left unspoken, a silent goodbye to you.
your bottom lip trembles and unshed tears cloud your vision. the world becomes blurry as you try to hold back crying in public. your breaths became shallow and uneven, each inhale a struggle against the rising tide of emotion threatening to engulf you. the hushed quietness of the library seemed to amplify the unease within you, every sound felt like an intrusion, a reminder of the fragility of your facade.
with a trembling hand, you reach up to brush away the moisture threatening to spill over, your fingertips tracing the delicate curve of your cheek. the touch was fleeting, a fleeting attempt to stop the flow of tears threatening to portray your vulnerability to the prying eyes of strangers.
the library turned into a haven of paradoxes at that point, a place where comfort and unease coexisted.
˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ ꕮ ㅤ۫ㅤ 🪜 ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤᘞ ˚ ۪
surrounded by the comfort of satoru's frat brothers chatting animatedly in the adjacent living room, you stood behind a counter, cutting neatly to the best of your ability. you were preparing a fruit salad, an offering of a refreshing solution to the sizzling heat.
with each slice of fruit, the kitchen was filled with a sweet aroma. beads of sweat glistened on your forehead, a loud example of the relentless grip of the summer heat that seemed to seep through every crevice of the house.
as you moved throughout the kitchen, the sound of satoru's footsteps followed closely behind, his presence sprouting something unsettling in the midst of the heated atmosphere. with unpracticed ease, you continue your task, the rhythmic motion of slicing fruit a welcome distraction from the discomfort of the day, and from your newborn insecurities.
just as you reached for another piece of fruit, satoru's arms encircled your waist from behind, his touch a sudden burst of warmth against your skin. startled, you instinctively recoiled from his embrace, the abrupt movement disrupting the calmness that flowed through the kitchen.
in the wake of your sudden withdrawal, a tense silence settled over the room, the air thick with unspoken tension.
he gazes at you with piercing blue eyes, a blend of bewilderment and annoyance evident in his expression. crossing his arms, his muscular frame becomes more pronounced. “what’s been up with you?” satoru asks.
you spare him an uninterested glare. you don’t stop cutting up the fruit, the knife continues to loudly slam down against the cutting board. the slices aren’t as congruent as you would like them to be, and that irritates you. satoru questioning you isn’t making the irritation go away not one bit.
“what do you mean?” your voice comes out softer than you anticipated.
“you’ve been actin’...” he rolls his hand as if circling it in a fluid motion would make the word come to him any faster. “weird.” he finishes.
“i haven’t been actin’ any differently than how i normally act.” you say, offended.
“yes you have.” satoru frowns. “always pushin’ me off and shit. what happened to my lil slut? you used t’never reject me ever.” satoru hasn’t said much but what he has said so far is enough. you slam the knife down onto the counter, you turn around swiftly. your angered eyes search for his.
“is that all you see me as? huh? a slut? a sex addict?” it’s your turn to cross your arms against your chest. “you think ‘m stupid, toru? you think i don’t know your plans?”
satoru looks at you as if you’ve grown four heads. an airy sigh escapes past his lips. “what the fuck are you talkin’ about, bun?”
“‘m not fuckin’ stupid, toru! i know! i know that you’re gonna stop messin’ with me once you get bored!” your voice grows louder, drowning out the chatter of the boys nearby, who fall silent as soon as they detect the shift in your tone.
“bun, ‘s too hot for you t’be actin’ like this一” he’s cut off by you continuing your heartfelt rant.
“you think ‘m naive and stupid! i know you think so, don’t even try to deny it!”
“stop fuckin’ yellin’, girl.” he hisses the word out as if it is some insult. he’s grabbing at your shoulders, trying to get you to calm down.
“i won’t let you hurt me, toru.” your anger quickly dissolves into sadness and in seconds you’re crying in his hold.
he thinks you’re throwing your usual temper tantrum until something along the lines of “leaving you” utters past your lips. his eyes widen and he’s quick to wrap his arms around you and pick you up. he throws your over his muscular shoulder and makes his way towards the stairs.
“put me down, satoru!” you shriek. your hands pounding on his lower back do little to slow down. he walks with purpose and security. you raise your head when he passes by the living room, only to see his brothers already looking at the two of you. you immediately drop your head in embarrassment.
your cries and threats do not waver satoru, not one bit. once he has you in his room, he’s locking the door and placing you in the middle of the bed. the second your back touches the soft mattress, you’re attempting to rise up. he’s quick to push you down and climb on top of you.
“toru, move!” you cry even harder. you feel so weak against him. while your mind screamed at you to be angry at him, your heart begged for you to not push him away.
“‘s okay, baby. daddy’s gonna make this all better.” he mumbles. he’s pressing desperate kisses all over your face and neck while his large hands make quick work to undress your body.
even with your futile attempts at pushing and kicking him away, he stays firm. your eyes are squeezed shut, you didn’t want to see those hypnotizing blue eyes. you didn’t want to see any more of him, ever. loud cries and gasps escape from you, you quickly grow tired and lay pliantly on the bed. you don’t take notice of the bed shifting and him feeling further away than he was seconds ago.
you’re about to tell him to move off of you once again until you feel his arms suddenly snake around your thighs and his tongue come in contact with your clit. your back arches off of the bed, your eyes fly open and you look down in between your legs. he’s already looking up at you, he laps at your pussy like a starved man. your hands fly to his hair, you’re uncertain on what you want. bring him closer? push him away?
your wails are quickly replaced with uncertain moans. your hips shift as you rock yourself against satoru’s face. feeling him lick and suction your clit before making a straight line down to your slit that’s dripping wet from his spit and your own arousal.
he pries your pussy lips open with the flat of his tongue. his eyes flutter when he snakes his tongue inside of you, going as far as anatomy allows. he shakes his head from side to side expertly. the grip he has on your thighs is on the borderline of hurting, but you’re becoming too hazy to comment on the firmness.
it almost feels like he’s making out with your pussy from the way he places long kisses to your clit before flattening his tongue. your whines and gasps merge in with the lewd sounds of his mouth kissing and sucking on you.
“daddy..” you mewl when he suddenly places all of his attention of your clit only. his eyes go back onto your face as he’s looming over your clit and spit is slipping from his mouth and onto your pussy. your mouth is stuck in an ‘O’ shape when he hungrily feasts. spit drips from his chin, it slowly slides down to your asshole that’s left unattended.
“mmm.” he moans. the vibrations cause your legs to shake and your hips to flinch. your back arches up, off of the bed. he has to bring a hand up to push you back down.
“g’na cum, toruuu.” you whine. the grip you have on his hair tightens. he lays lax with his mouth open. you begin fucking yourself stupid on his face, loud whines and babbles escaping past your mouth. the sound of your spit and arousal covered pussy meeting with his tongue is absolutely lewd.
you’re both letting out drawn out hums. your breath gets stuck in your chest when your orgasm finally hits. you sink as far into the bed as it allows, your eyes roll back as cries escape past your lips. you accidentally close your legs around his head, satoru doesn’t care though. he focuses on lapping at your folds, drinking up all of the arousal your climax brings out. he greedily licks at your pussy until you’re desperately pushing at his head, clearly overstimulated.
you’re still out of it when satoru fixes his position in between your legs. his face which reeks of you is inches away from yours. he’s quick to press a long kiss against your lips, as you open your mouth, he lines his cock up to your entrance and sinks in. inch by inch, he stretches your pussy out.
“i know, baby. i know.” he coos at you as you prattle incoherent things. he shift your thighs until they’re thrown over his shoulders. “you’re jus mad at me. you ain’ goin’ anywhere.” he hums as he begins fucking into you.
you can’t talk or even think right now. you grip the covers as you wail out a deafening moan when he gives you a particularly hard thrust. his arms are placed right beside your head, even just his forearms almost dwarfs your head. the size difference between the two of you makes his cock twitch even while inside of you.
“mhmm. pussy’s s’wet for me. who’s gonna fuck you like this if you leave me? hm? who’s gonna stretch this greedy pussy out like it needs to be?” his words fall on deaf ears when you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut once again.
you feel so full of him. his stretching you out deliciously. you could feel your pussy creaming over his cock, if you were to look down you knew there would be a white ring at the base and coating his balls.
“daddy’s never gonna hurt you, baby. everything i do is to protect you.” he’s kissing on your jaw with every word. “my sweet lil bunny.”
the threat of you leaving him rings through his head. he feels a sharp pang in his chest when a fleeting vision of a future without you flickers in his mind. in response, he propels himself forward with an almost punishing intensity, driven by a desperate need to defy the looming threat and cling to your presence with every fiber of his being.
there’s a fucked out look in your eyes when you finally crack them open. your boobs flow with every thrust, satoru can’t help but to grip one. you whither from how hard he grips it and he shushes you by placing his lips on yours. the sound of his hips meeting against your ass along with your whiny moans fills the room.
satoru lets out airy moans of his own before pulling cock out and sitting up a little. he bends your legs until your almost folded over. he uses two fingers to rub at your dripping pussy, with practiced ease his fingers ease into your pussy.
“nooo, toru.” you whine. “wan’ your cock.” you pout.
satoru’s cock jumps at your whining, beads of precum drabble from his tip and soil onto the covers. he’s quick to push his dick back inside of you, fucking you with inhumane speed. the icky sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin makes butterflies churn in your stomach.
“‘m gonna do better, okay? gonna spoil you even more, gonna一fuck jus’ gonna do so much more, baby. you hear me?” his skin is flushed and there’s a glazed look in his eyes.
“mmm.” you hum. your eyes are glued to where his dick is pounding your pussy. it’s almost fascinating to see your arousal coat his dick and balls so prettily.
your breathing is cut short when he wraps his hand around your throat.
“talk t’me, baby.” he whines. his breathing is sped up and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. his other hand darts down and begins circling your sensitive clit.
“h-hear you, daddy. ‘m not goin’ anywhereーohmygaaa ah!.” you let out a loud squeak as you suddenly begin cumming all over his cock. your vision blackens and you’re quick to lay your hand against his stomach to slow him down. “cummin! cummin! daddyyy!”
“mhmm, cum for your toru. goooooddd girl. there we go, bun. let it all out, baby. mhm j-just like that.” he praises you. his own orgasm is seconds away. with a few more thrusts, he’s quickly pulling out of you and rubbing at the tip of his cock. “f-fuck! shit!” his head tilts back as becomes rougher with each stroke. warm, thick spurts of cum shoot out from his cockhead and onto your pussy and thighs.
“shit, shit, shit, fuuuccckkkk.” he’s moaning and whining as he goes. when he has nothing left to give and his thighs are trembling for overstimulation, he pulls his hand away.
the two of you breathe heavily as you try coming down from your orgasms. he helps you shift onto a spot that’s not wet, while continuing to mutter sweet nothings to you.
“i was serious, bun.” he says while kissing on your neck. “you’re my bunny. alright? my pretty, smart bunny. you’re my girl. daddy’s baby. you’re not going anywhere.”
his words of dedication weave a delicate mural of emotion around you, coaxing heat to bloom within your body. your heart flutters with each syllable, sending ripples of warmth through your veins. with a shy yet heartfelt smile, you tilt your head in a tender gesture of appreciation, your eyes sparkling with the unspoken language of affection. maybe that girl was just jealous that you have satoru and she doesn’t. you decide at that very moment that you won’t let her hatred words get to you.
“‘m daddy’s bunny.” you repeat softly. he grins at your words and places a long, sincere kiss against your lips.
#fratboy/playboy!gojo#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა#₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ#toruuu ᡣ𐭩୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru smut#m shockingly at a loss for words#thats her man nd shes gnna stick beside him okaiiii#mi first time writin full smut n a while :0#asks ! ˚ ༘ ೀ
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The Divorce: Part I
Y/N takes on her first high profile case as an assistant at a law firm. Her first client? Harry Styles.
Word Count: ~ 3k
Warnings: none… yet 😋
Y/N wouldn’t say she was particularly brave. Or outspoken. She didn’t like speaking much at all really, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at her job. She just happened to be a bit shy. Sometimes she wondered why it was exactly that she wanted to become a lawyer, a job that required more talking than most others. But here she was, assisting at one of the largest law firms in England. Now she didn’t actually do much legal work; she tended to fetch coffee and organise documents but if she ever dared to speak up, people would quickly realise she was much more intelligent than what she was given credit for.
“Y/N! We have a possible case, a big one. I want you as my right hand woman for this ok? Let’s get you out of your shell a bit eh?” Mr Collins strode up to Y/N’s desk, startling her slightly.
Robert Collins was a joy of a boss and Y/N was grateful for every second she worked with him. He knew she was timid and he didn’t push past her limits. But he was encouraging and sometimes Y/N wished he wouldn’t be as nice to her so that she could prepare herself for the real world outside her little bubble where people were ruthless and unforgiving. Robert also had an extremely pregnant wife at home who was ready to pop at any moment which somewhat accounted for his rather happy in office personality.
“Who’s the client? Do I know them?” She asked, standing and rounding her desk to where Robert stood.
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. It’s Harry Styles.”
Y/N’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground, but she kept quiet as Robert briefly explained the situation. It wasn’t anything they weren’t used to - high profile divorce, with two people unable to come to a decision on what to split between them.
“We’ll need to draft up a plan this afternoon, we’re meeting him tomorrow. He’s doing interviews himself which is unheard of. He’s looking for the best representation he can find which is understandable - the man has assets. Every law firm in the country wants this case. If we get it, it’ll skyrocket our reputation. Do as much research as you can, I’ll send through a file on everything I have. I need this to be airtight Y/N. He’s one of the most important clients we could ever have and he also has reputation for being a bit of an asshole so we… you need to prepare for that. Don’t screw this up.”
“Of course Mr Collins I’ll get right on it.”
Y/N worked for hours, making a solid plan and editing it until she was finally happy with it. She left the office for the night, long after everyone else, arriving home as the sun started to set. After a quick shower and muesli bar (Y/N knew it wasn’t the most filling of meals but she was tired and frankly could not be bothered) she jumped into bed.
Just as she was closing her eyes, her phone buzzed twice.
Robert Collins: Y/N, Linda is in Labour!
Robert Collins : You’re going to need to take the meeting alone tomorrow. You need to do everything you can to secure this deal. Do whatever it takes. We need this case. We need him. If there’s an emergency call me but otherwise I’ll be at the hospital. Will keep you updated.
Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. Take a meeting ALONE? With HARRY STYLES. Oh he had to be fucking kidding. With a groan she flopped back into bed and covered her face with a pillow. This was a nightmare.
“I don’t care who it is, I want the best and I want them now. Do you understand? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a sensitive matter this is.”
“Yes of course Mr Styles, right away sir.”
Harry slammed the phone back into it’s receiver, before slumping back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you had told him in his 20s that he would be CEO of the largest company in the world before he turned 30, he would have smirked, tossed back his whiskey and said that sounded about right. Harry was sure in himself and in his abilities. He was brilliant at his job, however, he had learned that being brilliant at his job didn’t come with being a pushover. As a result, he was ruthless, harsh and didn’t have a reputation for being the nicest boss. Everyone was terrified of him and he liked it that way. Harry enjoyed control. He relished it.
But, if you had told Harry in his 20s that he would be getting a divorce at 35, he would have laughed in your face, in slight disbelief before protesting that he and his wife were as happy as ever, content and in love. He would have said all of that before he walked in on her fucking her pilates instructor in their bed.
Sofia Styles had dissolved into cries and pleas as Harry calmly ordered the both of them to get out, before resorting to screaming abuse at him when it seemed her begging was falling on deaf ears. She wailed about how he didn’t make time for her, how all they did was argue and how she had needs that Harry wasn’t taking care of. Which was… true. Harry had grown tired of their rather vanilla sex life over a year ago, but Sofia had never been interested in changing up their routine.
Before he had fallen in love with Sofia, Harry was a dominant. He took pleasure in taking control, having women submit themselves to him and writhe beneath him. It was safe, it was consensual, it was fun. God he didn’t remember the last time he had had fun. That side of him had quieted when Sofia had walked into his life. But that wasn’t the point. None of it mattered now.
“Mr Styles? Is everything alright?” His assistant poked her head through the door, shutting it behind her softly as she took in his frazzled state. Harry had hired Nancy a few years ago and despite being in her early 60s, she was the most competent assistant he’d ever had. She was also there for motherly advice whenever he needed it. Nancy knew how difficult it was for Harry to have his mother living so far away, so she made an effort to make sure he was eating well and sleeping enough.
“I’m fine. It’s just hitting me all at once. I’m tired.”
“It will pass Harry. I know you, you’ll be alright. Mr Horan called to ask how you were… you also have a few meetings this afternoon. The legal department also wanted me to let you know that they’ve found candidates. I think they were… frightened to call you back, so they called me.” Nancy said, a wry smile on her lips.
Harry gave her a weak smile in return, resting his head in his hands.
“Tell Niall I’ll call him later and that I’m ok. Cancel the rest of my meetings for today if you don’t mind and tell legal I want to meet them all as soon as possible. Tomorrow if they’re able.” Harry scanned his email for the list of candidates pausing as he read one of the names.
“I’d like to see the representative from Collins law firm tomorrow too. I’ve heard he’s quite good."
“They’ve already set up a meeting but actually it’s a “her”.” Nancy corrected.
“Huh?” Harry looked up, confusion evident in his features.
“Meet her. The interview is with his assistant, Mr Collins is caught in a family emergency. Y/N Williams, I believe. She’s Robert’s right hand woman and they specialise in this kind of thing, so you’re in good hands.”
Harry raised a brow.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Don’t scare her away Harry. I know how you can be.” She chided and Harry scoffed.
“That’ll be all thank you Nancy.”
With a roll of her eyes, the older woman shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind her.
Harry rubbed his eyes in irritation, resting his head in his palms. It was going to be a long day.
“Your client is WHO?!?”
“Harry Styles, you heard me the first time Lauren, and keep your voice down! I’m not supposed to say anything, it’s all very private and quiet because of who they are. And he isn’t my client yet.” Y/N exclaimed to her best friend.
Lauren had a tendency to get overexcited about things but Y/N had to admit she had butterflies in her stomach about this too. Harry Styles was without a doubt one of the most attractive men she had ever seen and the fact that she was meeting him today had her wrecked with nerves. She was curious as to what had made his marriage fall apart, at least she assumed that’s what she was hired for, given her specialty. Maybe he was bad in bed, but she doubted it. Maybe he cheated on her? Did she cheat on him? Maybe-
“Y/N! I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes what could you possibly be daydreaming about? Mr Styles?” Lauren laughed at the stunned look at Y/N’s face as she came back to earth.
“I wasn’t daydreaming about him! I was just thinking… I wonder what he’s like.”
“Well you’re not going to find out if we keep talking, you’re going to be late babe, go!”
So, after a few words of encouragement, Y/N made her way to the meeting, breathing heavily as she pulled into the carpark.
Styles Incorporated was one of the largest buildings in the city. It had 68 floors, high ceilings and windows that were always shining. Y/N made her way inside, slightly taken aback by the atmosphere. There were hundreds of workers but it was so quiet, almost as though they didn’t dare make a sound. Y/N grimaced at the sound of her heels clicking on the tiles, walking towards reception.
“Hello, I’m Y/N Williams, I’m here for an interview with Mr Styles.” Y/N said politely, almost in a whisper due to how quiet the building was.
The woman at the desk peered at her from behind her glasses.
“He’s expecting you. 68th floor. Glass office, you can’t miss it.”
“Thank you. Anything I should know before I go in?” Y/N meant it as a joke, simply because she was nervous, but the woman nodded.
“Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t ask any personal questions, and address him as Mr Styles at all times.”
Y/N blinked in shock, before nodding and walking quickly to the elevator. Her stomach turned as the elevator rose, and she took deep breaths to calm herself down. The woman at the desk in front of the larger office gave her a warm smile as she arrived, telling her to head on through.
Y/N swallowed at the sight of the man behind the desk, plastering a shaky smile on her face and entering through the door. His eyes remained glued to his laptop as she stood timidly in front of him for a few moments before clearing her throat.
“It’s lovely to meet you Mr Styles I’m-“
“Late.” He remarked, eyes still on the screen.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re late, Miss Williams. You’re also not who I was expecting.” He looked up at her for the first time and Y/N was taken aback slightly by his features. He looked as though he had been chiseled from stone, all hard lines and piercing green eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.
“I don’t mean to be rude but I believe I’m right on time.” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was 10am exactly.
“Around here, if you aren’t early, you’re late. I’m a busy man Miss Williams, if I’m not punctual everything falls apart. Do you understand?”
Y/N exhaled softly, observing the rather irritated man in front of her, gathering her thoughts.
“Of course Mr Styles, I apologise. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I’m sure this is an issue that you’re eager to move quickly through.” Y/N mentally high fived herself as her voice only shook slightly, even if she had basically rehearsed what she was going to say like a script about 10 times on the way over.
“Take a seat Miss Williams. You look like you’re about to run at any minute and unfortunately for you, I have time.”
Y/N swallowed before nodding meekly and taking a seat on the other side of his desk.
“So I thought I would start with why you should hire-“
“Do I frighten you Miss Williams? You look rather frightened.” He cut her off, a small smirk on his face.
Y/N froze. She didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’m sorry Mr Styles but I don’t think that’s very relevant to what we need to be-“
“I think it’s relevant. I want to know whether I frighten you or whether you just find me so attractive that you can’t possibly look me in the eye. Maybe it’s both. I tend to have that effect.” He stood, leaning slightly over his desk, towering over her.
“Mr Styles that isn’t very appropriate. It also seems like a bit of a personal question and I’d like to keep this professional.“
“It might not be appropriate Miss Williams, but I am curious. You intrigue me. And as for professional well… I’m certainly not one to talk about what happens inside my office.” He smirked again and Y/N genuinely thought she was about to combust. The betrayal that she felt from the wetness between her legs was also overwhelming to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore. What he was offering she was unsure but Y/N had a job and Robert trusted her to do well.
“Ok well let’s talk. How about we start with the reason you and Mrs Styles feel the need for divorce, so I can properly convince you why our firm is what you need.” Y/N could hardly believe she was rejecting whatever was going on and she also couldn’t believe her voice still worked after all of that.
It was like a switch. One minute he was flirty and suggestive and wildly inappropriate and the next he was dropping back into his chair, the smirk disappearing from his face and instead replaced by a flicker of annoyance and then… sadness? He recovered from his emotive slip quickly and his original stony features were back. It’s a shame, Y/N thought. He’s rather beautiful when he smiles.
“She cheated on me.” He said bluntly.
It took everything in Y/N not to react. But it was almost as though he could tell she was trying to control herself.
“You can laugh. I would. CEO Harry Styles. Has the world at his fingertips and can’t love anyone enough for them to stay.” He laughed bitterly and Y/N almost wished she could give him a hug.
“That’s… not what I was thinking.”
“No? You feel sorry for me then? It’s usually one of the two. It’s alright Miss Williams, when you get to where I am in the world you soon realise that everyone leaves sooner or later.” Mr Styles raised his eyebrows, seeming slightly taken aback by his own admittance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming need to reassure him that he would be alright. It seemed behind his arrogance and cocky persona, he was just lonely.
He cleared his throat, his emotionless mask returning as he checked his watch before looking up at the ceiling and rolling his eyes.
“You have… about a minute of my time remaining before I have other things to be doing. I’ve seen five other candidates today and they were all spectacularly mediocre. So, convince me.”
Y/N hushed the little voice inside that wanted to scream about how he had done most of the talking. Instead, she took a deep breath and explained their plan, just as she had rehearsed in the mirror that morning. She said most of it with her eyes cast downward and when she was finished she raised her gaze slowly, noting the small smirk on his face.
“Ok. You’re hired.” Mr Styles stood abruptly, ignoring the look of shock that flittered across Y/N’s face. Hired? Just like that?”
“Oh really? Well thank you Mr Styles, I’m sure Mr Collins will be in touch.” Y/N gathered her things, slightly relieved to be escaping from the confines of his office.
“Hired on one condition. We win and you go out to lunch with me.” It wasn’t a request. More of a statement.
Y/N’s cheeks flamed as she struggled to compose herself.
“Mr Styles I really don’t think that’s appr-“
“I don’t really care what-“
“Would you stop cutting me off?! For goodness sake let me speak!” Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, stopping short at the look on his face.
“Oh my goodness Mr Styles I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it. Sometimes my mouth starts working before my brain.” Y/N was aware she was rambling but she couldn’t help it. She’d blown the deal, she must have.
His signature smirk reappeared and Y/N’s shoulder’s relaxed slightly.
“Don’t apologise Miss Williams. I was riling you up. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Do we have a deal?”
Y/N hesitated before thinking back to Robert’s text. Do whatever it takes.
“Ok. I’ll… go to lunch with you if we win.”
“Wonderful. When we win you mean. Now I hate to cut this short darling but I really do have places to be. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, tell Robert to give me a call ok?”
With that, he ushered her out the door, closing it behind her. Y/N stood, frozen for a moment before making her way slowly to the elevator.
What was that?
Harry chuckled to himself as he watched her through the glass walls of his office, talking to herself quietly as she waited for the elevator, cheeks flaming. He got a kick out of making her so nervous, it did great things for his ego. He wasn’t lying, she did intrigue him and if he could convince her, she seemed like the perfect distraction to get his mind off things and a distraction was exactly what he needed right now.
Read Part II here
A/N: So this is part one!! What do you guys think so far? It’s certainly going to get exciting in the next chapter! Thank you for reading xo Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!
@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994
#harry styles#hslot#love on tour#harry styles ceo#harry styles series#harry styles one shot#harry styles au#harry x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles y/n#harry#harry styles writing
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need sugarmommy wonyyyy
i need her too anon, i need ha tew..
okay but genuinely talking,, sugarmommy wonyoung would be so elegant? the rich, cold, collected and intimidating classy ceo that everyone knows and admires? yeah, that’s her. her name, jang wonyoung, would ring in your ears everytime you heard it. you’d grin just from spelling it out in your own head.
but that’s just because you admired her for other reasons.
the way you met her was truly unexpected but so very welcome though, you created an account on some local sugarmommy finding app that liz showed you a girlie’s gotta get her bag somehow. it was fairly average from the start, couple of matches here and there, but nothing really clicked.
that is, until you matched with her, of course.
you already knew who she was beforehand, which kinda made you wonder if this was the real deal? her texting habits made it clear to you, however, this was really her. she was just so eloquent with her words, so.. assertive? you felt hypnotized by simple pixels on your cellphone’s screen, your eyes slightly widening as she called you fancy nicknames like darling and sweetheart during casual conversation. she was so persuasive, you just wanted her to take complete control of your life from the get-go.
and to nobody’s surprise, that feeling just grew stronger each time you went out with her.
she’d always walk into the restaurants, expensive handbags and rings in hand, all because “coming empty-handed to a date would simply be ill-mannered of her”. hell, wonyoung even asked you which country you wanted to visit so she knew where to fly her private jet to next. she spoiled you rotten, really, and she didn’t even ask anything of you for the first few dates, and remained patient and attentive with you. she simply wanted to make you happy.
up until around 5 dates later.
she finally offered to bring you back to her mansion, after confessing that she secretly bought some lingerie she thought would suit you, and that she’d just love to see you try it on for her. yknow, a silly excuse to get you to see how big her house was.
you later figured out that her house wasn’t the only thing that was big!
this woman surprisingly had the most kinky objects in her possession, handcuffs, flogs, ropes, you name it. christian grey style, if you will. wonyoung, so composed and charming when it came to important meetings, yet so animalistic and rough when it came to sex. of course, she started slowly, asking you if you were ready for what was about happen, letting you know of a safe word, etc.
once that was done, she immediately got to work. planting rough kisses all over your body, muttering about how you were her pretty little thing and how nobody else could have you. you were hers, and she made sure to let you know of that.
i mean, you understood that pretty quickly when she roughly pounded your cunt with her probably-expensive-as-shit strap on. you didn’t even know rich people had those, and she didn’t even care if it hurt you. she wanted to fuck you good, and that’s what was bound to happen. her fingers rubbed on your throbbing clit insanely well, you could tell she had an insane amount of experience from the way she leaned into your ear and whispered praises into it. she’d treat you with unlimited amounts of respect anywhere else, but definitely not when she’s in her giant bedroom, stretching you out<33
oh and also, can we please talk about how stern this woman would be? you’d be begging, pleading her to go slower and she’d say something like “i don’t remember telling you that you could speak, love.” LIKE OU?? yes ma’am i am silent
or even in your day to day life?? bringing you to some expensive ass store that sells dresses with price tags that look like they could pass as math equations, you’d try and convince her that it’s too much and that she could you always buy you something cheaper elsewhere and her just shutting you down immediately going “nono, pick one, y/n, i absolutely insist.” like FUCKCK??
#jang wonyoung x female reader#ive jang wonyoung#wonyoung#wonyoung ive smut#ive#smut#kpop gg#female reader#ive smut#wonyoung ive#jang wonyoung ive#anon asks#anon#jang wonyoung
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— hawks hit by a yandere quirk —
-> warnings: yandere themes, mentions of feather blade cuts, completely delulu hawksie, toxic love (ofc its yandere), fem! reader, mentions of self h@/rm scars. mentions of slight choking, degradation, shock and breakdown. it’s dark, okay? stay off of it if you don’t like it. loads and loads and loads of word vomit ahead and not beta’d.
all you could hear was the rumbling and the faint noises that echoed from the tv. the main pro heroes like hawks, endeavor, dynamight were caught in a nuisance and your heart was thumping out loud for your boyfriend. it’s been 2 months only, that keigo and you started dating, hell you’ve never even been to his apartment yet.
why?
it’s… complicated
you’re one of the renouned pop idols of japan and had been writing songs dedicated to hawks. yes— you fell first and he fell harder. during one of the award functions hawks was quick to catch a-hold of you, which turned into a one night stand— which turned into you telling him to leave because you couldn’t accept a hero like hawks wanting to be with a quirkless woman. which turned into a few unreleased songs and eventually— you and keigo together.
this time though? you couldn’t care less, you really wanted to check if hawks was doing okay and drove to the hospital he was in. he was — okay. for the most part? a few scratches here and there, a few feathers missing but your man never looked better. what you didn’t know is how mentally he wasn’t okay. under the effect of several mutated quirks, one of them being the yandere one.
how could you sense it really? well— it was in plain fucking sight! the way hawks possessively grabbed you and kissed you, uncaring of who’s watching in the damned hospital & glaring daggers with his marked pupils when you so much so flinched the wrong way. it was visible that he wasn’t okay.
“eh, babe- what if someone sees us?” you tried to squirm away from his iron grip, being straddled on his lap like his favorite toy. “and?” keigo sounded, almost uninterested, annoyed at your statement.
“then we’d have a ruckus…” you gulped, clearing your throat, trying your best to understand what actually was going wrong.
hawks took a pause, his pupils scanning you and ended up in a long sigh. “you’re right babygirl, let’s just go to my apartment.”
you widened your eyes a little, ‘his’ apartment? he’s never taken you there, not even once! why the sudden change of heart? “alright!” you managed to answer, curiosity taking over you as you let keigo carry you princess style in the high skies and eventually in his balcony.
“s’ not much, definitely doesn’t feel as homely as yours but it’s what it is.” keigo led you inside, while you noticed how ikea-ish the whole vibe was. nothing was displaced, everything felt unreal and uninhabitable. reminded you of the fact that keigo doesn’t stay in his apartment much.
the next moment again, took you off guard. landing right on the bed on keigo’s lap, soft tender kisses starkly contrasting from his hands which hovered all over your body, not leaving any square inch of you untouched with his carnal, almost dangerous growls rendered you speechless, and slightly uncomfortable.
“ngh- AH keigo- easy there,” you whimpered when his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, unable to find time to breathe properly. hawks wanted you and you were unable to keep up with his predator instincts.
“what?” he leaned back, hands wrapping themselves around your neck suddenly, squeezing them gently. “do you not want to be loved, kid?” of course it wasn’t a question, keigo sounded offended with your predicaments.
“no- no, its not like that you’re just behaving weirdly.” you managed to utter honestly, when another hand squeezed your face, golden eyes daggering and glowering at your form as keigo pecked your forced puckered lips. “then act like you’re enjoying being worshipped yeahh? i love you after all.”
of course he loved you, even you didn’t doubt that; for now atleast—
what was making you anxious was how nauseating his love felt right now. how it made you feel insignificant, insecure, pathetic.
when you feel weird, you act weird. maybe it was your mistake with how you acted— and lied to hawks, to get rid of him. you just needed space from him.
“i think i should let you rest, yeah?” a sugarcoated lie that you wanted to flee from him, gave you a sugarcoated answer from keigo. “i can rest while you’re here, can’t i?”
keigo hugged you again, suffocating you with his large wings covering you up, and not letting a single speck of light pass. “ye-yeah.” you were growing more nervous by the moment.
“you know? i’ve thought about some things. how you’re busy, in the studio, with other people, with fans, shooting ad commercials,” keigo paused, uncocooning you and glaring at you softly, as if he feels betrayed.
“huh?” you couldn’t say anything to that— yes you were, but that’s your job!
“what if i get rid of everyone and keep you to myself.” keigo smirked, watching your expressions change to half disgust, half anxious as you forced a chuckle.
“n-no? you’re the number 2 hero after all!” you smiled, trying to balm the wound his words gave you all by yourself. maybe any reassurance would help at the moment.
“mhm, and who said? heroes are all white with no grey areas? and, can’t be morally fucked?” boy— now you were losing your damn mind. you knew keigo never talk like this after all.
“uhm,” you managed to conjure up another lie. “i uh, forgot to feed my cat. i gotta go”
pathetic— poor and disgusting, that’s how your lie felt to hawks. siren eyes glaring at you as if you know, that he knows. you’re fucking lying. that feeling itself made you uncomfortable. hawks paused— clearing his throat, “you visited the hospital which means you had already fed him before going out. besides— didn’t he have an automatic feeder?”
“ye-yeah but i forgot to put food in it.”
“don’t be silly, dove” hawks cooed, glaring knives and hatred at your lies. “i saw you fill it 2 days back.”
before you could say anything else, his hand squeezed your throat, still careful and haven’t gone completely off the edge. “why’re you lying to me? do you want to meet someone else behind my back and whore around? like you do in award shows? click pathetic pictures with heroes for the camera and attention while i WATCH WHAT’S MINE BEING TOUCHED BY SOMEONE ELSE?”
you flinched, resisting and pushing him away after witnessing the heat of his rage first hand. “no- what the fuck’s wrong with you i’d never! i’ve written songs for you do you have no respect for me?” your voice also rose a few octaves, but hawks’ grip was relentless, pushing you on the mattress face first with an unbearable grip on your neck which you can’t get up from.
you felt powerless in the most disgusting, self hating way. if only you hadn’t been quirkless— if only—
you tried to push your way up, causing a knuckle crack that sounded loud enough to scare hawks, his hold left you immediately and he was surrendered on his knees, feathers splayed down on the floor with panic struck eyes. “fuck fuck fuck- are you okay?” he mumbled, holding your hand and looking at you with downpours of guilt you could swear was fake.
“m’ fine i’m not made of glass.” now your helplessness against someone as powerful as him was proving to enrage you. eyes daring to glare back at the absolute manipulative powerhouse of a man. “i want to leave.”
it was like a switch flipped in hawks, one moment he was kneeling down, the other moment he was up again, dominating you through your very core, pinning your wrists to the bed as he clicked his tongue. you could tell his patience was running thin.
“here’s what’s gonna happen— kid, you’re not moving anywhere for shit. and to remind you that you can’t go anywhere, and who exactly you belong to, i’ll mark you up, yeah?” stray plumes emerged from his wings as they ripped off your t shirt, uncaring, unflinching and unbothered of the littering papercuts that oozed out blood from your body.
“please- please no no- no i don’t consent to this you’re FUCKING SICK what’s wrong with you!” your anxiety ravaged your mind, bile rising up your throat as you felt the pain of being his all at once. hawks’ ignorant eyes as if he’s dealing with a child having a temper tantrum was chilli flakes to your wounds.
quickly, as if you breathing more was a waste of time, hawks yanked your wrist close to his, feather blade sharp and precise as he drew a line above one of your self harm scars, eventually completing the “K” of keigo.
by then you were begging, praying, chanting for him to stop, hawks wanted you to suffer, deliberately gliding his blade across your skin slowly, making you feel the ripping of your skin tissue, ignoring your pleads and how you don’t ‘consent’, who asked for your consent anyways? you were nothing more than a toy to stomp and play around with. punish if you don’t submit. hawks was sure to get that message through your skull.
with a little, complimentary mercy, he wrote the rest of his name quickly on your hand, maybe he was getting annoyed at your begging, or maybe he did feel bad. all you knew was he never loved you.
“there we go, nice and pretty,” sadistically, he licked off the strip of blood from your wrist, and you could swear you saw him kiss your self harm scars, a flash of the previous aftercare memory maybe.
tears flowing through your eyes and shock enough to supress the smallest sniffles, you kept staring at your hand. unlucky for hawks— when he gets off the effects of whatever the quirk that got ahold of him was, he’d never be able to hold you again.
you were beyond numb, why wouldn’t you be? it was a reminder that you dated the wrong man— and maybe you should be punished for it. or will you really be able to accept that it was a quirk? keigo would never do this to you, but hawks did and relished it. maybe it’s better to lose them both.
and you will, when hawks gets back to his senses and gives you his pathetically constructed apology, you will realize maybe— for a quirkless, normal human being, dating the #2 hero was the biggest mistake of your life.
#hawks bnha#hawks mha#yandere hawks#yandere keigo takami#hawks x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere hawks x reader#yandere hawks imagines#yandere bnha imagines#yandere my hero academia#mha hawks#keigo takami
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Shorty McLovin
pairing: Chris Evans x Short!Hairstylist! Reader
Summary: Chris and Y/n can’t keep their hands off each other, but that’s pretty obvious
Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate
Warnings: Spit, dirty talk, mirror sex, daddy kink, size kink, squirt, tit play, penetration sex, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, oral (female receiving)
- Requests are open!
Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
(Y/n's P.O.V)
“Will you stop movin for two seconds” I groaned feeling Chris spin around in the seat, trying to avoid my hands which were trying to style his hair. Despite him sitting down, his 6ft frame still towered over me, the consequences of being short.
“You gotta catch me first sweetheart” He laughed dodging my hands, his face smiling brightly even though he had to be up from 5 that morning. I huffed setting down my comb and scissors, my hands settling onto my waist as I looked at him blankly.
“Come on mamas, m' jus playin' with ya” He whined noticing my stare, finally deciding to face me, picking up my comb and handing it back up to me.
I couldn’t help but notice those dark blue eyes of his peering up at me almost mocking me trying to be innocent, his body bulging in its white vest and boxer shorts. His hands then found my ass, holding onto my cheeks he pulled me closer, his hands just resting back there casually.
“Thank you daddy-” Kissing his lips I stood back up, not realising what I had said.
“D-did you just call me daddy?” Chris asked smugly, his hands stopping mine from reaching his hair.
“What? No I didn’t?”
“Uh yes you did bubby, heard it loud n' clear” Chris laughed standing up to his full height, my head just about reaching his chest, his fingers on my chin tilting my head up to look at him.
(Chris' P.O.V)
“C'mon baby you know I don’t like liars” I whispered, her big doe eyes looking up at me innocently, her face glowing in front of the light up vanity mirror. Her hands gripped onto my shirt, her mouth parted as she wondered what to reply with,
“U-uh well it was clearly an accident Chris, happens alla time”
“What so you call other guys daddy then huh?” I questioned, a feeling of possessiveness and jealousy bubbling in my chest at the idea of my woman even thinking about entertaining another man. My fingers reached up and tucked a bit of hair behind her ears, her beautiful face now in view.
“No! Why would you even say that? You know i’m yours and yours alone, plus no one compares to you” She pouted leaning up and pecking my lips cutely, intertwining her hands with mine by our sides; her energy just making me fall in love even more and just seeing how much she loves and cares for me.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Chris let go of his girl's hands, his fingers reaching up to pull down the lock on the door beside them swiftly. Y/n stood quietly anticipating Chris' next move as he pulled down one of the thin straps of her blue tank top, the flimsy thing barely covering her hardened nipples.
“Chris we can’t, we’re at work” She whimpered, falling right into his handy work, her chest puffed out more to give him more access.
“Yeah? And whose the boss?” He asked with a smirk, pulling the top low enough to reveal her right breast, and boy did he waste no time in getting his paws all over it. He groped it so hard a mewl left the poor girl’s throat, his mouth suckling on her nipple, biting it here and there.
Her nipple now shone with Chris' spit on it, both of their eyes now hazed with desire and lust; complete and utter filthy thoughts.
“i wan’ you to look at yaself in the mirror while I fuck you alright?” Chris growled turning her to face the vanity, both of her hands planted onto the makeup station.
Chris couldn’t help but smile at his woman, all there laid out for him, and only for him. Not only that, but she just seemed to be made for him, both of their bodies connecting like a jigsaw.
With one swift movement he swiped down her underwear to cage her thighs together, her wetness starting to cause her crevices to glimmer. Chris bent down and took one good look at what was his,
“You just smell so fucking delicious baby, ya want me to eat ya out from behind? Treat you like my own fuckslut?”
“Mhm” Y/n whimpered, her knuckles had gone white at this point from how hard she was gripping the table. She couldn’t help but look at herself in the mirror, her face was flushed as one of her tits were just hanging out in the open for him to see.
Chris opened up her ass cheek and licked a stripe from her wet pussy up, a moan instantly left Y/n's mouth, her pussy only tingling for more of his wet tongue.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
(Chris' P.O.V)
Flattening my tongue I flicked through her folds, feeling her legs shudder slightly from instability, her arousal practically dripping at this point.
“Hurry up baby, your call time is soon” I heard her say, her body shoving her pussy onto my face as I felt her grind onto it.
“Yes baby, grind on my face like that” I growled holding onto her thighs as she humped my face without abandon, her hand grabbing onto my hair to ground herself even deeper, at this point she was just fucking herself using my nose and mouth.
“Come on baby, cum in daddy’s mouth like a sweet girl”
(Y/n's P.O.V)
“Mhm i’m gonna cum daddy, gon' cum right on your face” I moaned out, my hips moving out of my control, his nose and mouth were double teaming my swollen hot red pussy, my clit being stimulated by the stubble on his face.
“OaOh Fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK DADDY” I screamed shaking and humping his face furiously like a mad woman, feeling a gush of cum just spray onto his face aggressively. The pornographic sounds of him slurping it all up filled the room, my face was contorted to one of pleasure, my eyes had rolled to the back of my head and I was drooling from the mouth.
“Gah baby you got daddy all wet” He chuckled standing up behind me, his thick fingers running along my sensitive folds, my body leaning back into his for warmth and love. His hair was wet with me squirting, the bottom of his face shiny with my cum.
Turning my head around me spat right into my open mouth, the taste of my cum filling my mouth was instantly overtaken by his tongue licking all over my mouth. Whatever wetness was on his face had now transferred over to mine, adding to the amass of filth on us.
Pushing me to lean down a little, his tongue left mine, his larger body caged me in.
“Don’t know if you’re ready for my cock sweetheart, you’re so small I might break daddy’s little pussy” He cooed in a humiliating tone, his index finger edging the entrance of my wet hole, my hips rolling against him every time he did.
“Please daddy, I need it, use your sweetheart’s wet little hole” I whimpered rubbing my ass onto his now naked body, his hardened cock grinding against the curve of my ass erotically.
“Hmm I don’t know hunny, you’re too little” He grinned devilishly, his hand caressing my jaw tenderly before he harshly pushed it against the mirror.
His cock tearing into my pussy roughly, absolutely pounding the fuck out of it, my moans coming out muffled due to the hand on my cheek pushing me against the cool mirror.
“Aw good girl, would ya look at that? Your pussy fits my cock fucking perfectly” He laughed out, one hand holding onto my love handles, his other hand holding onto my shoulder to help keep me up.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
(Chris' P.O.V)
“D-daddy i’m gonna cum again, hug me while I cum? please?” she moaned out suddenly and then I knew she was feeling extremely vulnerable. Pulling out and turning her around, I lifted her up and started fucking her straight away. My arms wrapped around her ass as she continued humping my cock, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck with her head hidden into my chest.
I felt her lips pepper little kisses along my chest, her tongue ever toying with my nipple causing me to bite my lip even harder. The things this woman did to me.
“Fuck Y/n i’m about to-“
“Do it inside of me baby, wanna feel you cum inside my wet swollen pussy” She moaned out, her voice now sounding hoarser and sultry.
“Y/n baby oh my god, shit fuck-“ Shouting out an array of curses I felt myself spill inside of her, her body still clinging onto mine mercilessly, my hands now coming up to wrap around her back as I sat us both down onto the big makeup chair.
Even being in my arms accentuated the fact she was so short, and not going to lie that brought something out of me, something no one else did. I felt her breathing slowly calm down, with her still straddling me I felt her kisses move up to my neck to my face.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Both of them looked gently and lovingly at each other, Chris brushed back some of his woman’s hair, her head nuzzling into the touch of his hand softly. After some hot steamy sex both of them tended to be even more physically affectionate, if that was even possible.
“You okay sweetheart? Need some water?” Chris bent down grabbing his pink water bottle (it was actually Y/n's but she left it at his house so much it became is) He lifted up the bottle to her lips and rubbed her back soothingly as she took large gulps. A lazy glowing smile was on her face, as she lay back onto Chris' chest
“You okay Chris?”
It was now her turn to ask, picking up her captain America water bottle she gave him some, both of them acting like highschoolers stupidly in love.
“When we get home, we are having a major cuddling session with Dodge” Chris said kissing her shoulder and pulling her top back up, she nodded enthusiastically caressing the apples of his cheeks with her fingers
“Omg wait Chris your hair, my cum-“
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Hey Y/n what did you do with chris’ hair today” The director asked walking up to the shorter woman, watching as she packed away her hair supplies from the “dirty” vanity.
“u-uh-“
“Don’t worry I think it looks amazing, I even told Chris i’d prefer if it was like that for the whole shoot this week, if that’s ok?”
A red blush captured her cheeks as she nodded sheepishly, the director left the room leaving her to smile embarrassingly
“Everyday this week? Really?”
———
Taglist Tags: @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @tojisbabymommy @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @sairsei @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chrisevansangel @royalwriteroftheuniverse @mysticfalls01 @taramaria @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918
#romance#chris evans imagine#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans oneshot
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The Duchess of London
Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, sexual assault (not detailed), fighting, guns, smut (penetration, creampie, wrap it up lads!), fluff.
A/N: The PB bug bit me and it bit me hard! Had to get this out. Takes place in season 2. Reminder that this is a bit dark given the contents of the show so if something rubs you the wrong way, don’t read it! You also don’t need to provide an explanation as to why you won’t read it, just keep scrolling. No beta cause I said so. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist.
Birmingham smelled like shit.
London smelled worse.
You thank your bodyguard as he helps you out of the car, careful not to drag your dress along the mud, it was brand new and you didn’t have the best relationship with the new seamstress that replaced your old one.
It was a strange thing, being back home. Your old stomping grounds. You remember the days fondly, racing up and down the roads, dashing through the traffic of folks who populated the area. You always found yourself somewhere you shouldn’t be, getting scolded by your aunt when you arrived home well past dark. There’s a slight twinge in your chest as you reminisce, desperately wishing you could go back.
Luckily, your old house wasn’t far from your lodgings, Rich spooked by the rumors of how lawless this part of town was. You couldn’t blame him, Birmingham had long been abandoned by any sense of law and order. The police only came when it benefited them, so the local organized crime had taken over.
“Rich, I’ll only be a few minutes. Keep the car running.” you instruct. The burly man nods in respect.
“Yes ma’am.” He tips his hat at you, heading back to the car.
It was a choice, coming back here. There were nothing but terrible memories you worked too hard to forget but you felt like you owed it to yourself and your aunt to come back. The house was exactly how you remembered it, sparse furnishings but warm with spirit.
Now it was half empty and lonely.
You were fast in your approach to gather anything you deemed important, the house was likely going to be cleaned and left up for rent. Photographs, scraps of clothing, broken china were all stuffed into a bag you brought with you. These were the broken fragments of your old life you weren’t ready to part ways with just yet.
After muttering a quick prayer for your aunt and hoping that the devil caught your uncle, you say goodbye to the Brimingham girl you used to be.
You needed a fucking drink.
You swagger into the Garrison, amused at the drunken men shouting across each other. You’re well aware of the stares you were receiving, knowing that a woman of your stature and style could only mean two things: you were a well off prostitute or the lavish wife of a man no one wanted to fuck with.
You took pride in being neither.
A man with a kind face smiles at you from behind the bar, throwing a white towel across his shoulder.
“What can I get you, love?”
“Whiskey. Neat.”
“What kind?”
You pretend to think about it. “Surprise me.”
The kind man chuckles to himself before hustling to get your drink. You dig around in your purse, pulling out a few bills that were much more than your drink likely cost. A hand covers your own as you slide the bills across the bar and you gaze up into a familiar face.
“I heard whispers about a very rich looking person coming into town, you wouldn’t have happened to see anything, have you?”
You couldn’t forget those piercing blue eyes even if you tried.
Suppressing a smile, you take the glass set in front of you and drain it quickly before gesturing for a refill. Tommy waves his hand at the barkeep.
“Get a bottle and bring it in the room.” he instructs, ushering you into the private area where he conducts business.
You follow behind him, silently thanking him as he pulls out a seat for you.
The two of you don’t say a word as he pours you another drink, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“Thomas fucking Shelby.” you finally murmur, overcome with nostalgia. “How long has it been?”
Tommy gives a half shrug. “More than ten years, I’d say.”
“This yours?” you finally take a second to gaze about, impressed with the architecture. It felt like too beautiful of a place to be in Birmingham.
“More or less. It was a gift to Arthur.”
You grin. “A gift you didn’t buy.”
“A gift, nonetheless.” he takes a long drag of the cigarette, cautious as he blows the smoke out of his nose and in a direction that wasn’t facing you. “Heard about your uncle.”
You nod, posture stiffening. “May his soul rot.”
Tommy raises his eyebrows and his glass, downing his drink. “Cheers.”
“So,” you lean back in your seat. “What has Thomas Shelby been up to all these years?”
Tommy mimics your actions, scratching at his face. “Making business happen. Staying out of trouble.”
“You’re trying to be legal?” your curiosity piqued.
“Something like that.” He holds his arms out wide. “We’re expanding.”
“Into London. Fucking with the status quo there, I heard.”
Something in Tommy’s face hardens and he regards you with contempt. “Is that so?”
“It’s kind of my business to know. You are stepping into my turf. I don’t give a shit either way, this feud you have with the Italians is kind of good for business.”
“How?”
You take out a cigarette of your own, a long black cigarette holder accompanying it. Thomas doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he strikes a match, watching your mouth closely as you take a few drags. “People are far too concerned if there’s war coming to worry about women and their petty activities. Makes it easier to get into their pockets.”
“Did someone send you here?” He asks slowly, a tiny gun appearing on the table.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “No. As I have mentioned, I’m not interested in whatever dick measuring contest you have going on with Sabini. I’m just a girl who came to dance on her dead uncle’s grave.”
Tommy can tell that you’re being honest. It was refreshing but strange, he wasn’t one to openly trust people. You were the one person who didn’t care about what he was doing in a sea of people who questioned his every move.
“Dick measuring contest, eh?”
You had been fucked well before, sometimes from other women but nothing compared to how well Thomas Shelby was fucking you now.
His home was modest, clean cut and devoid of character. You were currently bent over on his bed being hastily taken from behind. It was as if he had just returned home from the war, eager and hungry for a woman’s touch. He couldn’t get enough.
Tommy staggers backwards, tapping your ass to get your attention.
“Fucking come here.” he rasps out and you giggle as he moves papers off a desk in the corner, hauling you on top of it. You spread your legs so he could slot himself in between them, entering you again with no hesitation.
“Don’t step on my dress.” you moan out, crossing your legs along his back.
“That, shit, all you care about now?” Tommy hisses, placing a hand on your hip to keep you still.
You nod furiously, leaning your head back against the wall and closing your eyes. You had already come undone twice and felt the third emerging soon.
“Fuck,” Tommy pants, taking his other hand and wrapping it around your throat. You loved the feeling of being choked and worked hard to memorize the touch of his fingers squeezing your skin. “I’ll buy you another dress. I’ll buy the fucking dress factory. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, fuck yes, Tommy.” You tighten around his cock as you come again, causing him to groan and weaken his stamina. “I want you to give me everything I ask for.”
“What do you want, hm?” He questions, making sure to maintain eye contact with you. It was difficult to keep your eyes open but you’d be damned if you didn’t try.
“I want your cum, all of it. I want you to empty your balls,” you reach a hand down for added effect. “Into my cunt.”
And just like that, Tommy thrusts into you forcefully twice more before coming to completion. You both groan at the sensation, the trickling of his seed oozing out of you and down your thigh. He rests his head against your shoulder, breathing heavily. You allow your legs to go slack, wincing at how stiff they had gotten.
After a moment of rest, Tommy helps you into bed where the two of you take the time to decompress.
“You’re marked.” Thomas comments, trailing a finger down the scar on the back of your left shoulder. It was in the shape of the number four, a reminder of what - who - you belonged to.
Joining the Forty Elephants was an honest mistake. When you arrived and couldn’t secure a place on your own, you resorted to petty theft just like any other low class person in your position. It had been the wrong place at the wrong time. You slipped inside of a clothing store, hoping to pick up a few nice shirts so you could find a steady job that wasn’t walking the streets at night. Turns out the Forty Elephants were at the height of a heist and you barged right into the middle of it.
You were caught and arrested with three other women. You begged and pleaded with the police, urging them to believe you when you said you were acting out on your own. You were all jailed together and you spent the night getting the living daylights kicked out of you. The next morning, the four of you were released and you were handed off to the leader of the up and coming gang.
“Some fucking runt you are.” She spat, sizing you up. You were interrogated relentlessly, the boss lady, Mary, assuming you were sent in by a rival gang to screw them up on purpose. When you justified your case, she nodded. You were brought in, taken care of and most importantly, you were protected.
You made nice with the other girls and became a skilled pickpocket, lock picker and seductress. The nickname “duchess” came after you managed to lift a hefty sum, including a car, from a duke. It was then you elevated your style and sense of purpose. You began to educate yourself, investing in legal companies and stockpiling your wealth for a rainy day.
You knew that life with the Elephants wouldn’t last forever and you needed a way out when the time came.
“It was my initiation.” You tell Tommy, breath catching slightly as his touch made you shiver.
He hums, pressing a small kiss to it. “I saw you that night.”
You frown, flipping over on your side to face him. He invites you to lay closer and you gingerly accept his invitation, perching yourself on his chest. “What do you mean?”
Tommy takes another puff from his cigarette before answering. “When you left Birmingham. It was at night. I was taking a walk with my brothers, and saw you scrambling to get out of the house. You ran like a bat out of hell. Never looked back once.”
“Oh.” You look down at your fingers, absentmindedly stroking the tattoo on his chest. You take a second to formulate a response, unsure of how to answer after years of not speaking about it. Tommy doesn’t push, waiting patiently for an answer that may never come.
After a moment of silence, you give him one. “He said I reminded him of her. Before she died, he was cold and distant. Afterwards, it was as if I had taken her place. It wasn’t the first time it happened. I remember crying a lot after. But that night, for whatever reason, I was determined to make it the last.”
You swallow thickly, brows furrowed as you replay the scene in your head. “I waited on him. Nearly fell asleep but like clockwork, he came creeping in the wee hours of the morning. I managed to stab him five times before I got away.”
Maneuvering yourself out of Tommy’s arms, you straddle him instead, pinpointing all the places you cut your uncle.
“Twice here.” You tap at his right peck with your finger. “Once in the stomach, once in the arm and once on his shoulder. He was a big guy and it was as if it didn’t faze him. Killing him didn’t matter at that point, I just wanted to be gone. So, I ran. Everyday for years, I kept looking over my shoulder, sure that he was going to show up and try to take me home. I hated myself. He got to live out his life and I suffered because of him.”
The tears surprised you as they dripped down your cheeks, hot and constant. Tommy is bemused as he wipes them away, his face never changing. You always pondered on who Tommy really was and what went on underneath the mask he was wearing. Then again, perhaps there was no mask to begin with.
“It’s stupid, I know.” you continue, hurriedly swiping at your eyes.
“It’s not. You did what you needed to do, what you thought was right. No one can ever blame you for that.”
“Funny, coming from a Peaky Blinder.” you chide with a small grin.
“Even funnier, coming from an Elephant.” he retorts without wasting a breath.
You sigh, placing your hands against his broad chest. “Cut from the same cloth, are we?”
Tommy nods, setting the now stub of a cigarette out in the ashtray placed on the nightstand. He turns his attention back to you, mind racing as he studies your features. How he let you slip away, how he went years without seeking you out plagued him from time to time. You were elusive, a mirage of a seemingly perfect woman he shouldn't taint with his touch. You’ve grown into your features, personality blossoming. You weren’t subservient like many of the other women he had encountered, all who would bat their eyelashes at him in hopes that they would get picked to be with a real gangster.
“Stay. I have an opening in my office, we could use the help. You’d straighten out Arthur, no doubt.”
You scoff, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be a guard dog or a bloody receptionist, Tommy. Besides, I’m expected back in London tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Family business.”
Tommy lights another cigarette at that.
“You could come with me. I wouldn’t force you to stay but maybe just to take your mind off of things?”
“Can’t. Family business.”
You laugh quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “What we wouldn’t do for those we love.”
The walk home from Tommy’s is uneventful, both basking in each other’s silence. It was comfortable and intimate, the only thing interrupting it was the sound of children out playing far too late and drunken men hurling commentary out at anyone that walked by them.
The folks of Brimingham were familiar with the Shelby’s but they aren't familiar with you which is how you became a prime target for unwanted advances. The man had to have been well beyond plastered, for any woman seen with Tommy was assumed to be his.
You couldn’t even understand half of what the agitated bloke was saying, just that he was making weird gestures with hands, pretending to jerk himself off. Others had attempted to warn him and even Tommy moved in for the kill but you stopped him.
“No, no. I want to hear what this lad has to say. What’s this then? You wanna have a go with me? Is this how you approach all the women you like?”
You feign boredom, sticking both hands in the pockets of your coat. You rummage around in your right pocket, discreetly slipping your fingers into the holes of a brass knuckle.
“Yeah, it is. Now, when you’re done with this half starved looking bastard, how about you come home with a real man who can fuck you until-”
Your movements were swift and graceful, as if you had done this a hundred times before. The knuckles smash into the poor man’s face, instantly cracking and breaking his nose. Tumbling onto the ground, you crouch over the drunkard and wail on him until splatters of blood dot your face like a painting.
Tommy watches as you all but kill this man with your bare hands and does absolutely nothing. His overwhelming glare warned the others to back off while you continued, the bystanders knowing what their fate could look like should they interfere.
Panting, you back off the guy, using your free hand to wipe at your face. You spit, step across the moaning body and proceed towards your lodgings as if nothing occurred. Tommy falls in step with you, offering a handkerchief which you accept. While the Forty Elephants appeared to be harmless with crimes of shoplifting and bribery, you had a more rampageous approach to it all. The streets of London had toughened you, like it or not.
At the end of the day, you needed to make sure that you could take care of yourself and if it meant taking another person’s life, so be it.
Tommy had never wanted you more. But nothing good could come out of the two of you being together, you both knew that. It would be similar to chaining two wild dogs together and expecting them not to bite each other's necks off when there’s only enough food for one.
You had the Elephants and London. He had Brimingham and the Blinders. Somewhere, you would meet in the middle but there wasn’t room for overlap. Tommy was sure that being wed to an Elephant meant more turf and control but he wouldn’t dare do that to you. He couldn’t do it to himself. He would come to you whenever he wanted and you’d do the same to him.
Rich straightens up upon seeing your silhouette, clasping his hands together in front of him obediently. He takes one look at your face and reaches inside his coat to grab his gun when you raise a hand out.
“S’alright. Just had a little accident. You know Tommy.”
Rich gives Tommy a once over before relaxing.
“Shall I see you inside, then?”
You gesture at Rich to go on ahead of you, planting yourself firmly in front of Thomas. “No, I think it’s better if we say our goodbyes out here.”
Tommy smiles briefly, lighting yet another cigarette. “You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust that I’ll make it back to London tomorrow if you do come up.”
He takes a small step towards you, jawline rigid as he exhales through his nose. “I could leave early, before you wake up.”
“I wouldn’t allow you to.” Plucking the flaming stick out his mouth, you press a wistful kiss to his lips, melting into his embrace as he deepens it.
Hesitant to pull away, you ease back reluctantly. Your hands smooth his across his coat, reaching upwards to tug at his beloved hat.
“When you’re in London, I expect a call.”
Thomas rests his forehead against yours, licking at his dried lips. “I’ll always make sure to pay the Duchess a visit.”
You peck his lips one last time before returning the cigarette. Tommy watches as you disappear inside the hotel, satisfied knowing that you were safe and back in your room. Doubling back to the Garrison, now in full swing for the night, he gets welcomed with a drink from John and a pat on the back from Arthur.
“Tell me brother, what’s it like to be with royalty, eh? Is her pussy made out of gold?” Arthur cracks himself up, thoroughly entertained by his own quip.
“Fuck off, Arthur.” Tommy says dryly, taking a swig of whiskey.
“Did you tell her?”
Tommy raises an eyebrow at John. “Tell her what?”
“About her fuckin’ uncle?”
Tommy doesn’t answer and the two brothers give each other a glance.
“Bloody hell, Tommy-” Arthur starts. Tommy raises a hand and waves him off.
“Of course I didn’t fucking tell her. All that matters is that he’s in the ground, eh? Now get me another bottle and stop whining in my fucking ear.”
Arthur is slow as he departs from his sibling, a lopsided smirk plaguing his face.
Tommy thinks to himself that maybe he should’ve mentioned how your uncle actually died. You were told that he had a nasty fall after a night out of heavy drinking. In reality, it was the Peaky Blinders doing. Not only was your uncle a piece of shit, he also had a gambling problem. He got mixed in with the wrong folks and unknowingly stole money from the Blinders to help pay off a gambling debt. He was sloppy in execution which caught the attention of Tommy.
Upon finding out who actually took his money, Tommy made it a personal mission to seek him out. The man, Ronald, folded like a chair when Tommy and the boys appeared on his doorstep. He cried and begged for mercy, which they showed him none. Especially not after he confessed what he had done to you.
Ronald knew you made it to London and had fallen into some money, so whenever he got into debt he just told people that you were wealthy and would deliver money for his payments. Even after you cut ties with him and tried to kill him, he proceeded to use you.
Tommy wouldn’t have it.
“Oi! Tommy!” Arthur returns with the bottle in hand. “You got any spare cash on ya? I wanna set up a quick date with Beatrice.”
Tommy looks at his brother with slight disdain and rolls his eyes. “I’m not your accountant.”
“Yeah, yeah. I left my wad back at the office. Just cough it up, would ya?”
“If it means I won’t have to look at your face anymore, fine.”
Tommy reaches inside his pants pocket where he normally keeps an emergency stack and finds it empty. Scowling, Tommy pats himself down extensively before the light bulb goes off.
He laughs.
Not a cheeky snicker or a lame jest. Thomas Shelby actually laughs.
Confused but willing to follow his brother anywhere, Arthur begins to laugh as well until they’re both hanging onto each other, gasping for air.
At the hotel, you answer the door to your room, thanking the bellboy for bringing up your dinner. Tucking a hand in your bra, a wad of cash spills out. You grab a handful of it and place it into the hand of the blushing young man. He stammers out a thank you, hightailing it back to the lobby.
You get comfortable in bed, eager to dive into the captivating spread laid out in front of you. Closing your eyes, you fold your hands in front of you in mock prayer.
“Thank you dear lord for this appetizing food and for the Peaky fucking Blinders. Amen.”
#Thomas Shelby x female reader#Thomas Shelby x fem!reader#Tommy Shelby x fem reader#Tommy Shelby x fem!reader#fic: the Duchess of London#Tommy shelby x you#Tommy Shelby x reader
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Here’s what I’m thinking about: Bug’s self esteem and Bucky’s thoughts on her body
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized fem reader)
CW: Struggles with physical self esteem (younger Bug), talks about comparing bodies and societal beauty standards, past fat phobia and bullying, language, references to sex, oral sex and fooling around, switches from 3rd person to 2nd person POV at the sex part.
By the time we meet Bug as an adult we aren’t going to see a lot of physical self-esteem issues, in fact she carries herself with a lot of confidence. She wears whatever the fuck she wants, styles her hair and makeup however she wants, and carries the mindset of “I don’t owe it to anyone to be pretty or palatable.” This is because in her 20s she’s really started to unpack how much bullshit comes with a. existing as a woman in society and b. existing as a plus size woman in society. So if she doesn’t want to shave her legs she’s not going to, but you bet your ass she’ll still be in shorts if it’s hot, humans have body hair get the fuck over it.
I’d say this turning point for her really came around the time that Bucky got arrested for kicking the shit out of her ex (as referenced here). It had been devastating at the time, and even though Bucky swore up and down he’d happily do it again consequences be damned, she realized someone she cared about who clearly cared way more about her than said shit head ex was being inconvenienced for something at the end of the day didn’t really matter all that much. Like who was her ex to even say that? And why would she care about some loser’s opinion?
That was not the case when they were growing up, however. If we were to purely just focus on younger Bug we’d see a lot more insecurity born from her experiences with bullies and the fact that the token actresses chosen to play the “fat friend” in movies and TV were still significantly smaller than her. It also didn’t help that Bucky’s on again off again girlfriend throughout high school was tiny so she’d look at her as the gold standard for what Bucky must want and spend tearful nights comparing her thigh size to her, her waist size, etc.
That, that attention to Bucky’s “type,” comes into play later on because as discussed , Bucky ends up sleeping around a lot. Which ends up revealing that Bug is in fact not the exception- we’re not going to see that trope of “would you date a plus size girl?” “Of course, it’s what’s inside that counts.” Bucky isn’t looking past Bug’s appearance to date her.
Because yes of course what’s inside matters but Bucky wasn’t sleeping around based on personality, and his choice of partners revealed that he has an appreciation for all different bodies. So does he find Bug beautiful on the inside? Absolutely. Does he also just find her incredibly fucking hot? Full send. And if he suddenly finds himself sleeping with more people that bare a resemblance to her leading up to him realizing his feelings surely that’s just a coincidence...
Speaking of sex; Bucky will dick you down six ways to Sunday and talk about how incredibly sexy your body is the entire time, how receptive it is, how welcoming. Bucky already found you desirable but that desire only increases in intensity the more he spends getting to know you and your body. He wants your plush thighs wrapped around his head, wants the full weight of you on him as you sit on his dick, wants to lick every single stretch mark, bite and mark the dimpled skin of your ass, press wet open mouthed kisses to the ample swell of your stomach, he wants to worship you.
TLDR:
Bug is the type to say “If I’m too heavy to lift you better work out.”
and Bucky is the type to be in the gym because he needs to drag you down the bed, throw you across the room, fuck you up against the wall...
#this could've been longer#we didn't even get into the fact that bucky is actually the one with self esteem issues#at least more prominent ones#bucky and bug#hwita#biker!bucky smut#smut adjacent#biker!bucky#bucky barnes x reader
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Hey Tate how do you feel about Buggy The Clown w/ a black s/o? Spicy headcannons are welcomed😮💨
A/N: Buggy w a ponytail made me feel things so yes…yes indeed I will post about it.
Buggy with a Black Girlfriend Headcanons (SFW & NSFW)
SFW
He found you so attractive when he saw you pls
He has never seen a woman like you and wants you on his team asap
I’m sorry but he seems like the type to call you “Exotic Looking” KSBDJDKSKSJS
HE MEANS NO HARM I SWEAR
He lets you braid his hair a lot. He seen you put in box braids on yourself once and has asked for it as well but you just gave him two braids going back
He actually looked kinda hot
Omg can someone draw that pls or else I will
He calls you sweetcheeks or darling a lot
He annoys the absolute daylights out of you. lIKE A WHOLE LOT HE ANNOYS YOU ALOT
When he is bored he plays in your curls/braids/locs ALOT trying to style it
He pokes you ALOT too
He just really loves annoying you
You actually never called his nose big because you know how he gets but you keep it in the back of your mind just in case he really pisses you off
A cute little quirk about him is that he always tries to find ways to impress you just like when he first met you.
He has told you about Shanks and his hate for him but honestly you thought he was talking about his ex
You thought he was gay for a second before you two dated but he swore up and down he wasn’t because he was act trying to confess to you
“I’m only gay for you!”
“But I’m a woman”
“THATS NOT THE POINT!”
When Mihawk or Crocodile is around all three of y’all bully Buggy and a few times you three played Mr. Potato with his body because he made you mad.
“So can I detach Your penis and put it on your head?”
“WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT?!”
“Because you’re a dickhead.”
Crocodile: I like her.
Anyways though he loves talking to you. He doesn’t even care if you respond or not as long as he knows you’re listening to him rant or just speak whatever is on his mind he loves talking to you
He loves hearing about your culture or religion too. If you embrace it he will have dumb little questions about it but never disrespect you or make you feel ashamed in what you believe in
You make him carry you a lot. A whole lot.
He hates it at first but once you tell him about how strong he is he’ll do whatever you want and more
He wants you to wear clown paint very badly at least once
He has blown up buildings out of anger because you made him mad.
NSFW
Okay the first time Buggy went down on your He accidentally but your clit REALLY hard so you grabbed his head, detached it, and threw it across the room.
You didn’t talk to him for a week
Buggy tries he really tries to be romantic. He has asked Mihawk for advice but it went horribly and ended the night with you aiding to his burn wounds because a candle fell on him during dinner
When he gets needy he pokes your ass a lot
He’s really good with his fingers? He swears he doesn’t know what he is doing when he fingers you but your don’t care nor complain
He has a playlist when he wants to fuck you.
Usually has a rose in his mouth.
And no he will not stop
PULL HIS HAIR
He won’t openly tell you what he wants but trust pulling his hair is one of em
He likes a dom woman :( he loves you being on top and doing whatever you want to his body
He loves having his neck kissed. He’s just so sensitive there
His favorite position is 69. He loves your ass
Btw he is an ass man
It took a while for him to open up to you for sex but he made up for it with his amazing stroke game. You don’t know wtf he learned his loves from but you’re grateful for it
Buggy’s dream is to have sex with you on a pile of money…you really don’t know why and he won’t elaborate further but he just wants to
#buggy the clown#buggy x y/n#buggy x reader#captain buggy#buggy one piece#one piece buggy#one piece headcanons#one piece#one piece smut#black reader#one piece x female reader
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Fluff Prompt | E.M
℘ prompt — #12a, getting a massage {request}
℘ warning — fluff + slight nsfw?
℘ pairing — elijah mikaelson x f!reader
℘ count — 2.6k
It had been yet another long shift and as much as you’d like to pretend you were strong enough to handle it, you couldn’t. Every single day you’d complain about something new which wasn’t like you but you couldn’t help the problems that constantly arose.
First it had been a new manager which meant a shift in positions and new rules that stemmed from it. Then it had been your licensure test that had been rescheduled for the unforeseeable future. Lastly, it was family. Wasn’t it always family? After months of therapy, your brother finally stood up to your parents – mother especially – and this created a shift in the family dynamic. Not one that you cared for because you were nothing but proud of him, it was about damn time come to think of it.
So yes today had been a long day and all you wanted was to clock out, grab dinner on the way home, possibly shower, and pass out wherever you landed. Not five minutes after you had swiped your badge, your coworker came running down the hall calling after you.
“Y/N! Y/N come back!”
You didn’t even dare turn around. You figured if you ignored the problem or issue that was running toward you, it would just…disappear. Wouldn’t that be nice, you thought to yourself.
She finally stopped, one hand on a knee and the other over her chest as she bent over. In short sputtered words, she gasped “Y/N you-you’re, fuck, needed.”
“I’m off the clock.” You calmly responded.
“Well he’s asking for you.”
You scoffed, “Whatever it is, get someone else to do it.”
“Y/N L/N, don’t fucking make me run back there.”
“You know the elevator was right next to you, right?”
“So help me God–” She closed her eyes and mentally counted whilst you fought back a grin.
You figured it’d serve you better to just see what he wanted rather than argue back and forth with your colleague who was heaving as though her life depended on it. With one hand on your right hip and your medical tote hanging on the dip of your elbow, you purse your lips and raise one eyebrow.
“I’m embarrassed for you.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She quickly retorted.
“Aren’t you a nurse?”
“What of it?”
“You’re winded from running down a hallway.”
“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”
You smiled, “I wouldn’t need to. Joan saw it too.”
The lady at the front desk looks up and offers a knowing smile which makes the lines around her eyes more pronounced. Her hair was held up in a military style bun — tight enough to give anyone several migraines for days — you can take the woman out of the military but not the military out of her. With a very subtle nod, she returns back to her paperwork. You start to make your way back to his office when Joan speaks up suddenly.
“Just like I see you take the elevator to go up one floor.”
Your mouth made a noise that was half a scoff and a laugh. “So that’s how you get to places fast. Not the ridiculous lie of taking the stairs.”
“I do take stairs!”
“Gwen, love. Even if there was a fire, you’d still run to the elevator.”
“That’s if she doesn’t pass out from the running itself.” Joan chided.
Gwendolyn, Gwen, rolls her eyes and huffs a breath. “Screw you both.”
After a 30 minute conversation with your boss, you finally left. Turns out it hadn’t been anything serious, he wanted to give you a heads up about the opening for the director of your unit. You graciously thanked him for it, you hadn’t even considered applying let alone being nominated for it. You didn’t want to make any decisions just yet either so you told him to give you some time to think.
Currently you were waiting in the parking lot of the restaurant for your mobile order. You had requested that they bring the food to you rather than go inside to retrieve it yourself. You hadn’t even noticed the young man with the huge brown paper bag in hand as he approached your car from behind. You were fully entranced by the video on your phone of a tiny teacup puppy that was yawning.
The knock on your window scared you enough to jump and accidentally honk your horn. Quickly, you started apologizing to the man as you rolled down the window. He stared at you quizzically and that’s when you realized you had been rolling down the back passenger windows, not the driver’s. Not your day is it? you thought to yourself.
“I’m so sorry, I’m not normally like this.” Were the first words that poured out of you.
The young curly haired man smiled politely and shook his head, “Ha, it’s alright. Here’s your food miss.”
“Thank you so much…?”
“Kevin miss.”
“Thank you Kevin.” You reached into the cup holder and handed him a $20 bill. He was about to say something but you raised your hand and stopped him. “Have a good day.”
“Thank you so much. You as well!” He smiled then pocketed the money and walked back to the restaurant.
Almost twenty minutes later, you pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. Gathering your tote, bag of food, and new tumbler mug, you exited your car and walked up the walkway to the front door. Before you could even reach for your keys, the door swung open and there he stood.
Handsome as always but somehow today he seemed even more, perhaps it was the apron he wore or the rolled sleeves that made his muscles bulge. He took the brown bag from your hands and the tote that rested on your left shoulder. With a single step to the side, he welcomed you in and waited then closed the door behind you.
You simply smiled then turned around to face him, leaning in to him. He was quick to respond and met you halfway with a soft kiss. The bags were held in his left hand whilst his right one cupped your cheek, gently caressing your skin. With reluctance, you pulled away but your eyes were still closed, a smile etched on your face.
“You’re so beautiful darling.” He said as his fingers brushed away stray strands from your face.
“Thank you. I needed that.”
“The compliment?”
“The kiss but yes that is always welcomed too.”
“Look at me.” You did as told and opened your eyes. “You shall have that and more whenever you’d like my dear.”
You couldn’t come up with a response so you opted to place a quick peck on his lips instead. “Can I steal pecks too?”
“That’s the only sort of thievery I would entertain.”
“The only?”
He smirked, “Among others.”
After your sweet greeting and short, but playful banter, you both made your way into the kitchen together. He quickly started emptying out the bag and plating your food. You decided to put away your dirty dishes from work and then washed your mug. You finished just in time to watch him put the plates on a tray then slid it into the oven.
Confused, you asked, “Why are you cooking them?”
“I prefer if your food wasn’t cold so I plan on leaving it there to warm.”
“Oh.” You wiped your wet hands and returned the towel back on its rack. “I thought we were eating now.”
He just smiled and offered his hand for you. “I have other plans for us.”
“Ohhh.” You couldn’t hide the mischievous smile slowly growing on your face.
“Not that sort my dear.” He chuckled as he took notice of your slight frown.
You placed your hand into his and he led you out of the kitchen and down the hallway, towards the direction of the bedroom. “Eli, are you sure it isn’t that?”
“It could if you wish it to be but not necessarily.”
Once you were in the bedroom, it took you a moment to notice your nightwear spread out on the bed. You glanced over at your table and your skincare products were lined up in order ready to be used. He let go of your hand and motioned towards the adjoined room. Obediently, you walked across the room and entered the bathroom. You let out a very soft audible gasp at the sight in front of you.
There was a tray over the tub with several items on it. Your favorite glass of wine, a bowl filled with grapes, a book that you kept saying you’d read but never got around to it, and a small remote. You walked further into the room and headed straight for it, your fingers excited to press it. At first nothing happened but then a soft melody started to play and the lights completely shut off but were replaced with fairy lights that somehow made the room magical.
You smiled and turned, wanting to return to him but he was already at the doorway looking at you. Instead of words, you headed over and wrapped your arms around him. He didn’t need to hear your lips say a thing because your heart already spoke on your behalf. The calm beating in your chest let him know exactly how you felt.
With a soft lingering kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbed up and down your back. You never wanted to leave his arms and he could tell so he let you stay in his embrace until you were ready. Ten minutes later, you were undressed and soaking in the huge tub. Your head was leaning against its back, your nostrils filled with the light lavender scent that floated around the pitch black bathroom, the only light was emitted from the fairy lights that blinked every so often and together with the soft music made for a perfect ambience.
You don’t remember how or when but you had been there for a while, you only noticed when you felt a slight breeze. Opening your eyes, you glanced over at the door and sure enough he was standing there silently watching you.
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s quite alright, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t drown to death,” he said with a smile. On the floor, next to the tub, there was an empty wine glass and a quarter empty bottle.
You slowly sat up and let out a soft chuckle, “Wouldn't be a bad way to go.” You outstretched your arms and rolled your neck, “I felt absolutely fantastic, thank you.”
He walked into the room, crouched down to your level, and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “My pleasure. Now, shower then dress and meet me downstairs for dinner.”
“Sir yes sir.”
Half an hour later you had rinsed off the bodily oils, showered to fully cleanse yourself, and were dressed in your silk pajamas. You lowered your head down close to your knees and bunched up your hair then tossed your head back and tied that dark brown mess into a bun. Once everything was neatly put away, you slipped into your house slippers and made your way down the stairs.
“It smells divine in here!” You exclaimed as you got closer to the kitchen.
“In here dear.” His voice came from the dining area.
You turned the corner and saw the spread in front of you. The food you had picked up earlier was plated and so were the drinks minus the alcohol. You happily went to take a seat but he was faster than you, in mere seconds it was pulled out and you were pushed in with a towel on your lap.
Dinner went swimmingly, few words were exchanged about your individual days then a comfortable silence enveloped the room. An hour later, you both cleaned up together to store away the leftovers and tidy up the dining room and kitchen.
“All right, I think that’s everything then,” you said as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel.
He held up a finger and just then a beeping noise went off. He poured the liquid into two mugs then turned to face you. “Follow me.”
“You know, you’re quite bossy today.”
“Am I?”
“Yes but it’s hot so don’t stop.” You give a sly smile then make a head start back to your shared room.
He finds you seated on the bench – that’s at the edge of the bed – with your legs crossed and your fingers drumming on the wood. Once he’s inside, he kicks the door closed behind him and you smirk instinctively.
“You’ve wined me, dined me, and got me in here…” You get off the bench and crawl backwards towards the headboard, “…what’s next?”
He grins at your implications then says, “Unbutton your shirt and lay face down on the bed.”
“Ooh I like where this is going.” You do as he says and soon your exposed chest is greeted by the warmth in the room.
“Don’t turn around.”
“Just in case you’re wondering, I’m totally okay with spanks.”
You hear his chuckle then the lights are turned off, silence follows then there’s some ruffling and finally the bed dips. You can’t see a thing, the only light is coming from the moon outside so you have to rely on your ears. You feel his bare legs on either side of you, straddling from behind.
A bag of some sort unzips then out comes a bottle, maybe two? Shake. Click. Squeeze. Squirt. A coldness drips down the middle of your back and you accidentally jerk forward. His hands are quick to smoothen out the gel which immediately warms up. His fingers find their way up to your shoulders and slowly roll in the valley near your neck.
Soon after he picks up the intensity and digs his fingers into your lower neck area, a sigh leaves your lips. After a while his hands slide down to your sides, his fingers massage the fat around your hips lovingly. Giving them a pat afterwards. His hips lift up slightly and he pulls your pajama pants down to your knees.
He leans forward towards your head and whispers in your ear, “Still with me my dear?”
“Hmm? Yes.” You responded groggily, you had started to fall asleep.
He slides one hand up from the base of your back to the sides of your breasts and with little to no effort, his hand gets underneath and gently caresses your breasts. He rolls each nipple between his fingertips, pinching harder to garner your attention. You moan softly then very slowly move your hips around.
His other hand expertly removes your underwear then a quick slap is introduced to your ass. This action jolts you fully awake. He switches to the other side and another slap but this time your hips lift up closer to him.
“Eli please.” You whined softly.
“Darling I could’ve sworn you said you wanted spankings.”
“I do so…more?”
“Mm no.” You could envision his head shaking.
“But– it’s too good…”
“Your ass looked marvelous, it was too tempting not to. Now that’s done, go to bed.”
“Tomorrow then?” At this point you were grasping at straws.
“Sweetheart the day I spank you as I ride you from behind, I’ll be sure you’re wide awake.”
You throbbed at the lewd idea but smiled at the promise. He pulled your pants back up and used his vampiric gifts to clean your back and dress you in his shirt. He kept vamping around the room as he cleaned up the items whilst you got under the covers. After it all, he joined you and without another word, you pulled his body closer to yours. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you inhaled his scent that drifted you off to sleep.
🏷️ taglist:
⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @klaustopia
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tuesday again 2/27/2024
this is the longest ive ever been unemployed and media is only doing so much to beat back the horrors. so let’s talk about the media instead of the horrors
listening
Come Up For Air by We The Commas, off i think one of the autogenerated spotify indie mixes?
youtube
sort of a rollicking modern little surf rock thing, they describe themselves as "surf and alternate rhythm and blue" which is pretty bang on imo. they're all brothers (their last name genuinely is Comma, which i salute as a fellow weird last name haver), and cite john mayer (i don't really hear it) and the beach boys (yes i hear this very much) as some of their influences. a song i had on loop for an entire forty minute drive and did not get tired of. spotify
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reading
three books that MUST go back to the library tomorrow bc their autorenew is up and i was emotionally unable to get a library card without tooling around and getting a stack of books a month ago.
thank you philip.
i really only liked the Carmilla adaptation by Amy Chu, bc it really gets at what i didn't realize was the heart of the original 1872 lesbian vampire novella: a toxic gay housing situation you have fallen into and can't get out of bc your area is so so so expensive and housing is so so so tenuous. i have read the original but not in a while, this is an excellent modern adaptation centering around a nyc social worker in the late seventies that presupposes no knowledge and intertwines the original novella in the form of a stolen rare book. (nonconsecutive pages)
i don't have much to say about the DC young adult comic about the circus career of one of the Robins (Dick Grayson). i didn't love the loose artstyle and am not in its intended age range plus it had a bit too much therapyspeak, but it did have a clever use of a very limited color palette.
let's yank the amazon description for the detective novel, which i grabbed bc it vaguely pinged something in my brain about one of the fallout 4 sidequests and i've picked books up for worse reasons (SPOILERS):
Jacob Rigolet, a soon-to-be former assistant to a wealthy art collector, looks up from his seat at an auction—his mother, former head librarian at the Halifax Free Library, is walking almost casually up the aisle. Before a stunned audience, she flings an open jar of black ink at master photographer Robert Capa’s “Death on a Leipzig Balcony.” Jacob’s police detective fiancée, Martha Crauchet, is assigned to the ensuing interrogation.
i simply fucking hated this authorial style and tone and ditched it two chapters in. i don’t currently have the patience for reading about a clinically insane mother and hate crimes against Jewish people. despite the fairly dark premise, the first two chapters veer into cozy mystery with very short sentences, which do not a noir make. now, it does not advertise itself as noir or neo-noir, but as an homage to noir. it is for me unbearably smug. in my most unkind heart of hearts i want to say it's like if wes anderson tried to make a noir. this is a book that wants you to know it has read other noirs. yes thank you ive read several others, that’s why im reading this one, stop reminding me of better books i could be reading.
there's some weird descriptions of womens' bodies in here. chandler (my beloved) is certainly guilty of this as well, but he lavishes a sort of equal opportunity eye on the men in his mysteries. cf the infamous daniel lavery description.
when i read a chandler description of someone’s physical appearance there’s a fruity bisexual aftertaste in my mouth. Howard Norman, below, saying a woman takes great care of herself puts my hackles up. i understand the difference between an author and a character believing something and i don’t want to read a book where either the author or the character have this sort of pitying condescension towards a woman’s body. im feeling extremely terrible about my own body right now due to the various maladies, and another sort of breaking point for me is when an author repeatedly describes "naked breasts" (exact wording) pressing against someone's torso. it feels so juvenile. that's the sexiest thing you can possibly think of??? that's the sexiest way you can think of to describe an early mornign moment of intimacy???? augh i read the NYT review and it gets worse.
shut the FUCK up. i left my apartment at 1130 PM to go put this book in my CAR. i don't want it in my HOUSE.
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watching
Bullitt (1968, dir. Yates, free on Tubi). the baddie in this is Robert Vaughn (who i know from cowboys), a guy i fucking love to see. i can take or leave Steve McQueen but he does such a killer job parallel parking in this movie and i wish all driving movies made their leads parallel park. shockingly realistic hospital, morgue, and police work scenes, apparently was one of the big films to popularize blood squibs. also love to see a haunted man splash water on his face and stare into a mirror.
youtube
if you asked me how long the famous car chase was i would have said like 2:30? substantial but snappy. no!!! eleven minutes!! (video a bit trimmed). also a rare movie that makes a foot chase through an airport as exciting as that eleven minute car chase!!!
the mob dodging plot was a little hard to follow, but i was operating on like four hours of sleep and a rum and coke. this has got to be a tremendous movie to watch when you’re home and sick on the couch huddled under a blanket. i mean this as a compliment, as someone who watches Escape from New York whenever i feel very sick
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playing
really wanted to get to 69 shrines before writing this post and finally did it. all the little divine beasts walking along the loading screen are SO cute i've never gotten all four before
all the divine beasts are unlocked and the champions laid to rest! im feeling some type of way emotionally speaking about all of them telling link IMMEDIATELY that it wasn't his or zelda's fault they died
rudania has the worst boarding mission (in order of ones i most enjoyed it's camel [SO fast and SO fun], bird [lots of time to think and plan and aim], elephant [did not make me do a tedious stealth mission but i am bad at locking on to rapidly moving things behind me, much like in real life], and lizard. the lizard stealth mission is simply unpleasant). however, my brain really clicked with the puzzles in rudania: i had to consult a walkthrough once for an optional chest. in order of interior beast puzzle enjoyment for me it's lizard, bird, elephant, and camel. really got stuck for a long time on the waterwheels with the elephant before consulting a walkthrough.
the yiga clan stealth mission was not as hard as i thought it would be. i don't know why i put that off for two real life weeks but i will not learn my lesson and i will never improve. this boss battle was just silly.
the vah naboris interior puzzles were not fun. idk what it was about them or my brain that made me have such a bad time, but i spammed revali's gale and skipped a lot of chests bc i was not having fun. this is why god invented the walkthrough but sometimes. shit is just too fiddly.
i did succeed on the thunder ganon boss battle first try, but i came in with extra hearts from mipha's grace, used another mipha's grace in the fight, went through five fairies and seven hearty simmered fruits that were 5x durians (which gives you 20 extra hearts or some shit). fucking nightmare. i was stuck on one hit left on ganon for like five minutes bc he got stuck in the very fast flurry attack cycle. unpleasant. deeply grateful it only made me smack him with the magnesis pillar once bc that was also really fiddly with my poor reaction time + poor fine motor skills + previously mentioned ancient controller with some drift. in order of boss battle enjoyment i think it's lizard (made me think and kept me on my toes a little but i did have to look up how to break the shield), elephant (you can just kind of tank it), bird (same), and camel (extremely not fun).
this was WITH a fully upgraded gimp suit btw. that shit (ganon) just hits hard.
shrine shenanigans:
crowned beast very fun, i have one or two of kass' songs left and then i hope i get to see him back in rito village with his family??? a little nervous bc i went right to the jungle spring without hearing his song first so idk if that will. count??? or softlock me.
the MOUNDS of failed cooking attempts around this shrine on the grasslands side of the gerudo barrier mountains were SO funny.
unlocked all the spring shrines. what a fun mission. what a fun climb.
went to my FAVORITE shrine!!! going into what you think will be a normal cave and discovering it is DEEP with a BIG WHALE INSIDE is top three video game whale moments (the other two are diving with the whales in ABZU and meeting the last whale in the first dishonored).
other bits and bobs:
eggman rocks???
this quest was really cute and i wish there was a corresponding quest for the guy hanging around the broken heart pond, but it always makes me laugh whenever a dragon shows up in the background of a screenshot. a really great touching moment but watch out for the elemental orbs rapidly approaching us
also made me chortle. get it together barta.
i wish the helm was upgradable but i think making me kill a molduga in order to borrow it is a pretty fair trade actually.
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making
i originally had a really long thing here about litterbox trials and tribulations but i have decided to spare you all. you're welcome.
many balcony improvements, including putting up trellises and installing bird spikes to hopefully keep a very persistent orange tom off my balcony and away from my girls.
there are a goofy number of obstacles in the way of me making a proper planting diagram (sketchbooks buried deep in closet. flung the seeds in a box on a shelf i need to find my stepstool for. can't find pencil sharpener) so for the second week in a row that's not happening. however, sprouts.
baby italian lettuce blend
bush beans in the front and cucumbers + sweet peas in the back.
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Imagine: The Scarlet Witch invades your city in search of her children, but you react differently to her. (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff/Yandere!Scarlet Witch x autistic!fem!reader)
Summary: Everyone's made fun of you. Bullied you. Abused you. You don't really think like others. It's just how your brain was wired. By this point, you didn't think much good could come from it.
But that may just capture the heart of a powerful witch.
(CW: Mention of bullying/isolation, hypnosis)
Author’s Note: My laptop is really starting to break down, just like me mentally and emotionally.
A loud set of screams interrupts your quiet time in your first-floor apartment, startling you.
Looking outside your window, you see people running away from something, including some of those who’ve bullied you for your autism. (which is a bit satisfying to see, you won’t lie)
“What’s going on?” you wonder aloud.
That’s what you see them, following the scared crowd; it’s a figure decked out in a dark red outfit.
“That’s what everyone’s afraid of?” You’re confused as fuck, so you decide to go outside to check out the scene. As you get closer, you can make out the figure more clearly; a woman with long hair that seems to be made of fire. Her hands are glowing with a scarlet aura. It’s....actually a bit relaxing to look at and you find yourself entranced by its smooth movements; it’s like it’s performing a ballet. Slowly you find yourself getting closer, staying fixated on the aura.
“Wow....” you gasp as you approach her hand.
“What are you doing?”
A voice nearby snaps you from your trance. You look up to see the woman with a hardened expression.
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I was just fixated on that glow in your hand. It’s beautiful, and honestly kinda calming as well.”
The hardened expression softens a bit.
“....You’re not running from me,” she notes.
“Why would I be?” you ask. “You don’t scare me.”
Her expression turns back to stone and her head tilts.
“Is that a challenge?” An Eastern European accent appears in her voice.
“No,” you say matter-of-factly. “I just don’t feel afraid of you. You’re not causing any trouble, you’re just....here existing.”
The tilt retracts and her anger turns into a mixture of confusion and fascination.
“You’re a very odd girl,” she notes.
You shrug.
“Comes with the ‘tisms.”
“The what?”
“Oh, I’m autistic. My mind is.....well, it’s different from other people’s brains.”
“I see....”
“Yep,” you nod. “Kinda got bullied and isolated for it. A lot. Still do. I....basically have no friends.”
“Why would they bully you?”
You shrug.
“I guess they’re afraid of what they don’t understand, you know?”
At that moment, her expression softens almost completely.
“Yes.....” she says quietly. “I do know....”
In her mind, something switches. Here you are, a fellow misunderstood soul, with not even a single companion. Someone who’s not afraid of her, someone who didn’t immediately run when you saw her, but rather....you were fascinated by her. She can’t remember the last time she’s met someone who didn’t fear her or treat her like a criminal.
“You’re really pretty too, you know.” Your compliment both jolts her from her thoughts and solidifies her decision. There’s no way she’s leaving you here. Her heart is pounding furiously and she comes up with an idea.
“Would you like to see some more of my aura?” she asks.
You nod eagerly.
“Please? Those screams I heard earlier kinda stressed me out.”
She gives a smile and moves her hands to conjure more in front of your face. Her hand movements begin to fascinate you as well.
“Holy shit, that’s beautiful,” you whisper, your eyes widening in awe. “It’s like your fingers are dancing.”
You begin to find yourself hyperfixating on the magic and on her hands, just as she hoped you would. Soft whispers invade your mind, but you’re unable to make out what they’re saying, nor do you really care about what they’re saying. Slowly your eyes gloss over as the hands and magic play over and over again in your mind.
You almost fall down on the road, but the Scarlet Witch catches you and sweeps you up bridal style, holding you close and protectively.
“Sweet, sweet girl....my sweet, sweet girl,” she whispers as she flies away with you.
“You’ll never be hurt or unloved ever again....”
#yandere wanda maximoff x fem!reader#yandere wanda maximoff x autistic reader#autistic!reader#autistic reader#actually autistic#yandere wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff#yandere#marvel#Avengers#yandere avengers#yandere marvel
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Can you do the Evan’s dating a plus size girl? 🤭🫶🏻❤️
all that you are//the evan’s
pairings; fem reader with tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer, jimmy darling, and james patrick march
rating; pg13!
warnings; slight harsh language, body shaming, bullying
a/n: sorry to everyone that might not like what i’m gonna say, but i only write for the evan’s until they go up to season five with james. yes, i have watched the other seasons. i LOVE gallant and edward mott, but i won’t be pairing them with a female reader for obvious reasons. rory and jeff didn’t satisfy me all that much, and i still have mixed feelings on kai. yeah, i also like austin, but i don’t really know if i have that special little connection to his character yet. and no, am i fuck gonna write for jeffrey. that’s something that i’ll never feel comfortable doing.
Tate Langdon;
• Tate couldn’t give a shit about how you looked, he loved you for how you truly were. From the way you treated him, he already knew that you had a heart of gold.
• He loves how you guys have the exact same style. You enjoy wearing baggy sweaters and jeans, much like himself. And he adores how confident you are when it came to wearing what you wanted.
• If any school girls even dared to make fun of you, well.. i’m pretty sure we know what would happen..
Kit Walker;
• If Kit falls in love with someone, it’s not for the breathtaking looks they’ve been blessed with. No. It’s simply for the fact that they have such a kind heart and a beautiful soul. That’s what Kit is truly attracted to.
• He admires every last bit of you. Size isn’t important to him, not at all.
• Kit fell for you, because you’re just you. You’re not hiding behind some mask or going around with a full face of makeup, nor trying to fit in with everyone, you’re you. And that’s certainly enough for him to love and cherish.
Kyle Spencer/Franken Kyle;
• Truth be told, the little soul can’t even tell the difference between you and other girls. Right enough, not that he would even care in the slightest.
• He gets really upset when he overhears Madison saying her usual shitty comments about you. Though that soon turns into a fit of laughter when Queenie punishes her for it.
• Kyle doesn’t have the kind of feeling to care enough when it comes to you’re size. You treat him in a way he’s always wanted to be treated, and he doesn’t need anything more than that.
Jimmy Darling;
• Uh, I think we’re aware that Jimmy couldn’t give a shit if you were big or not. We’ve seen enough to prove that, trust me..
• Most of the freaks respect you and treat you no differently from the others, Jimmy makes sure it stays like that.
• If Elsa even has the nerve to ask if you could be part of the show seeing as she thought you’re figure could be quite the ‘entertainment’ for some people, Jimmy would hit breaking point.
James Patrick March;
• James isn’t one for body shaming. His mother raised him to always respect a woman, and that her size shouldn’t matter to him. If she treats him right, then by all means he should show her the love and respect she deserves.
• He isn’t fussed about you’re weight. Mr March still buys you the best of the best. Including the fanciest clothes, jewellery, perfume, everything he’d buy for the woman he loves most!
• When the time comes around for his monthly dinner with the Countess, he’s sure to fire back at her sneaky, vulgar comments. Even Miss Evers will defend you as much as she can.
“And should we be expecting you’re new partner, James? I suppose the word ‘little’ isn’t a way to describe her.”
“You mean my loyal, new partner? Ah, yes. And I suppose that word isn’t something that we should mention when you’re the topic of conversation, hm?”
Yeah, he ain’t up for her bullshit today folks.
#ahs fandom#american horror story#ahs hotel#evan peters#the evans x reader#james patrick march#tate x reader#tate ahs#tate langdon#james march#james march x reader#kit walker x reader#evan peters ahs#kyle spencer#plus size reader#kit walker#ahs fluff#kyle spencer x reader#ahs coven#ahs season 5#ahsfx#jimmy darling#jimmy darling x reader#freak show#ahs freakshow
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The Divorce: Part II
Word Count: ~3k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex
Read Part I here
“What does winning the case even mean? How do you win a divorce?” Lauren asked Y/N confusedly. The small cafe was basically empty as the two women sat across from each other, talking in quiet voices.
“I’m not exactly sure. I think he just means that he leaves the relationship with everything he wants to keep. I’ll try and ask next time I see him, but he doesn’t usually let me get a word in. The man loves the sound of his own voice.” Y/N grinned as Lauren laughed at her description of the CEO.
“I can’t believe he wants you to go out on a date with him. He literally just got out of a relationship… he moves quickly.”
“It’s not a date! Is it? It’s just a congratulatory lunch right? Right?”
“If you say so Y/N.” Lauren giggled at the bright colour of Y/N’s cheeks as she came to the realisation that Mr Styles possibly wanted to go on a date with her.
“I don’t know what it is,” Lauren continued. “But I do know that he had a reputation before he got married.”
“What kind of reputation?”
“He was a no relationship kind of guy. He would fuck women, normally not more than once, before moving onto the next one. It’s why the media went wild trying to figure out what made Sofia different. No one knows why he gave up his lifestyle for her. Just… be careful Y/N. I don’t think you know what you could be getting yourself into.”
Y/N opened her mouth to respond as her phone buzzed.
Unknown: How’s the case coming along?
Y/N looked quizzically at the text from the unknown number. After a few moments she realised there was only one person it could be from.
Y/N: Mr Styles, how did you get my number?
Y/N: The case is fine, but you do know that I’m only assisting on this right?
“Is that him?” Lauren asked. Y/N nodded sheepishly.
Harry Styles: I have my ways.
Harry Styles: Yes Miss Williams, I’m aware that you’re an assistant. I just prefer talking to over Robert.
“Ask him what he means by “win the case.” Lauren urged. Y/N shook her head at her friends eagerness before typing out a message.
Y/N: Well since I have your number now, can I ask a question?
Harry Styles: Ask away darling.
Y/N ignored the flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the nickname.
Y/N: What exactly constitutes as winning the case for you?
Mr Styles: If I manage to keep our house, I count that as a win. I don’t care about anything else materialistic. Just the house.
Y/N: How come?
She watched as the 3 dots indicating he was typing appeared and then disappeared. After waiting, Y/N realised she wasn’t going to get a response.
“It’s probably something super sentimental. Which is strange. I didn’t take him as the sentimental type.” Lauren mused, reading over Y/N’s shoulder.
“Neither did I. But I’ve only met him once. I don’t know him at all really.”
The topic changed after that and Y/N finished her latte, bidding Lauren a quick goodbye before heading to the office for the day.
Sofia Styles, was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Cascading brown curls sat perfectly below her shoulders and crystal blue eyes made her look like she’d walked straight off a runway. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr Styles stiffen as his ex-wife walked into the room accompanied by her legal representation.
“Sofia thank you for joining us. We’re aware that this is a difficult process for yourself and Mr Styles so we’re hoping to make this quick and easy for the both of you.” Robert smiled as warmly as he could in an attempt to diffuse the tension in the room.
“You can address me as Mrs Styles. It’s still my name.” Sofia sniffed and Y/N refrained from rolling her eyes.
“Not for long.” Mr Styles bit out. Sofia seemed slightly taken aback by his tone, and her eyes glistened for a moment before she blinked the forming tears away.
“Is everyone ready to begin?” Robert asked. After receiving, albeit disgruntled nods, they began dividing everything.
Y/N quickly realised that Mr Styles stayed true to his word. He had meant it when he said all he wanted was their house. He offered everything over to Sofia, their dogs, two of their cars, their holiday home in Italy and the small apartment in Paris.
“And now for the house Mr Styles currently resides in. It’s my impression you purchased this home before you met Sofia?” Robert asked.
“You could say that.”
Y/N raised her brows at the vague response, but one look at Mr Styles’ face told her that now was not the time for questions.
“Mr Styles has requested the house return fully in his name although Sofia’s name was added to the lease after they were married. Do we have an agreement from both parties?” Robert looked in between the ex couple warily.
“Hold on I don’t think-“ Sofia started to protest.
“Sofia. Please. You know how much that place means to me. I can’t lose it.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she watched the hardened man beside her plead with his ex-wife. What was it about this house that was so special?
“Please.” He said again.
Sofia’s gaze softened slightly before she nodded once. Robert exhaled quietly at the agreement, rapidly pulling out papers for both of them to sign. Once everything was done, Sofia stood, gathering her things. She walked around the table to where Mr Styles sat beside Y/N and squeezed his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the contact, and at this, she removed her hand.
“I’m sorry Harry. I really am. I want you to know that I loved you with my whole soul for a time.” Sofia said.
She waited for a few moments and when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to get a response, Sofia turned and left, her lawyer hot on her heels. Mr Styles had taken an apparent interest on the going ons outside the window, gripping the arm of his chair tightly. Robert gathered his papers and motioned silently for Y/N to talk to him, leaving her alone in the room with him.
“Mr Styles? Are you alright?” Y/N asked softly, placing a hand where Sofia’s had been. Only this time he didn’t flinch.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be. I got what I wanted.” He removed his gaze from the window and looked Y/N in the eye. The eye contact made her slightly uncomfortable but she held his stare.
“Well… it would be understandable if you weren’t fine. Sofia was a big part of your life.”
“And now she’s gone. I told you, everyone leaves eventually. Or I push them away. It was bound to happen and I’m ok with it.”
“If you ever need to talk about it I-“
“I said I was fine Miss Williams. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Come on, we’re going to be late to lunch.” He stood abruptly, buttoning his jacket and opening the door for her.
“Lunch? Now?”
“You agreed to come to lunch with me if we won. We won, hence the reason I’m taking you out for lunch. We have things to discuss.”
“Mr Styles I don’t really have time for this right now. Perhaps another time?” Y/N waited with bated breath for his response.
“Let’s go. There’s a car downstairs.” He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. Y/N sighed, following him into the waiting vehicle.
Just… be careful Y/N. I don’t think you know what you could be getting yourself into.”
Lauren’s words echoed in her head as Y/N sat across from the rather intimidating CEO, picking at the pasta he had ordered for her.
It had been a rather quiet affair since they had arrived at the restaurant and the silence was killing her. Y/N lifted her glass of water to her lips as Mr Styles finally opened his mouth to speak.
“Have you ever thought about being a submissive, Miss Williams?”
Y/N choked on her glass of water, spluttering and coughing for a good while as Mr Styles watched, offering her a napkin, an impassive look on his face.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I asked whether you’d ever thought about being a submissive. Personally, I think you’d be quite good at it.” He continued to stare at her, but a small smirk appeared on his face at her disbelief.
“I’m not quite sure what you’re asking me or trying to suggest Mr Styles.” Y/N’s cheeks were flaming. She obviously found him extremely attractive (she did think his attitude could use some work) but this was ridiculous. This was a professional lunch! Or so she had thought.
“I’m wondering whether you would consider being my submissive. Surely you know what it is to crave a release so strong it has you thinking about it for days. Many things at the office are out of my control as much as I would like to say otherwise. For me, the bedroom is the one place I can know for sure that I’m in control and know that my partner is willing to give up their control to me. I need a distraction for a while; someone I can rely on to be there when I need them. It would be mutually beneficial of course. I’m told I’m quite a natural when it comes to that department.” His smirk widened, but there was something else in his eyes. Desire.
“I find you quite attractive Miss Williams. I have since the day you walked into my office all flustered. Having someone I can take to events would also be helpful so as to dissuade women who have recently heard of my divorce from making a move.”
“So you want to own me. That’s what you’re saying.” Y/N finally found her voice.
“No. Well. Not completely. We could go somewhere more private for me to explain all the details.”
“You’re crazy.” Y/N pushed her chair back, ready to stand and leave but he grabbed her wrist.
“Possibly. But deep down, I think a small part of you is curious. When was the last time someone touched you in a way that had you craving more? Ever wonder what it’s like to be tied up and letting someone else be in complete control of your pleasure? Have you ever had a guy make you come more than once? Or at all? I bet all this talk is making you wet isn’t it sweetheart?”
Y/N heart fell to her ass at the way he called her sweetheart in that delectable accent of his. She had to admit he was right. Everything he was talking about had her clenching her thighs, craving a release. But what he was proposing was madness.
“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. You just got out of a marriage for god’s sake Harry.” Y/N didn’t miss the way he grinned at the way she finally used his first name.
“Just… think about it.” Harry said, still holding her arm.
“I have to go. Thank you for lunch Mr Styles, I appreciate it.” She wrenched her wrist out of his grip as she left the restaurant. She knew he had let her leave, if he had really wanted her to stay she knew her strength would have been no comparison to his.
“Holy shit.” Y/N muttered to herself as she called a cab. When she had agreed to lunch she hadn’t known it would turn into this.
Y/N’s head was spinning. It had been three days since Harry’s proposal and all she could think about was him. He had been radio silent and Y/N didn’t know what to make of it. She couldn’t be considering it… could she?
She had so many questions. Many of which she had typed out in a text to Harry himself, deleting them before she could press send. On this particular night, Y/N was quite a few glasses in to the bottle of red wine sitting on her coffee table as The Notebook played in the background.
She was, once again typing out a text to Harry that she had no intention of sending.
Y/N: If I was to agree to this, you’re telling me you’d be using me for sex and as arm candy?
Reaching over to refill her glass, she groaned in frustration, as her phone slipped from her hand into the couch cushions. Y/N fumbled around blindly as she pulled it out, eyes widening at the delivered sign underneath her message.
“Holy fucking shit.” Y/N whispered to herself as the delivered sign changed to read. She waited a beat. Then two. She sighed in slight relief as the three dots indicating a response were no where to be found.
Then her phone started ringing.
Incoming call: Harry Styles
Y/N swiped across the screen with her eyes half closed as she tried to decline the call. The ringing stopped and she exhaled in relief.
“Thank fuck.” She said outloud. “I did NOT want to talk to him tonight.”
“Talk to who?” The familiar low tones of his voice rumbled through her phone.
Y/N was silent. She couldn’t believe she was this stupid.
“Miss Williams? Are you there?” Y/N could practically hear his smirk over the phone.
“… Yes.” She mumbled out.
“So it seems you’re considering my offer after all.”
A/N: HiiI!!! I didn't expect to get another part out so soon but I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! What do you guys think is the reason Harry is so attached to the house? Are you liking the story so far? Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
Read Part III here
Tags:
@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @intimacywithceline
#harry styles#hslot#love on tour#harrystyles#harry styles ceo#harry styles fics#harry styles smut#harry styles writings#harry styles fan fics#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles yn#harry styles x yn#harry styles fanfiction#harry fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles x reader#harry au#fic
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The Ugly Sweater [Lio Meier]
A/N: Major props to Bestie for coming up with this idea yesterday. Thank you for living in my AUs with me daily ❤️
Also, yes, I am feeding you sweet Lee before the major angst. Because I want us all to suffer? I love punishing me and us? I don’t know. But enjoy this holiday flavor until then😘
Word Count: 2.9k
Lio Meier isn’t one to get nervous. He plays in front of 20,000 people every other night in the greatest hockey league in the world. He can walk into any bar in New York City and leave with a willing woman on his arm. He thrives at being put out in 3 v 3 OT with an entire franchise strapped to his back.
But something about being invited to Savannah Miller’s place of residence scares the shit out of him. And he isn’t even the only one going.
Savannah is hosting the holiday party for the team and their significant others on the first day off for Holiday break. Apparently the theme is ugly sweater? It really isn’t Lio’s style, but as per usual, Savannah has him outside of his comfort zone. Admittedly, Lio is embarrassed about the amount of time he spent sifting through racks of sweaters at the local thrift store trying to find the perfect one. He finally settles on a florescent green one that mimicked a Christmas tree. Balls of fluff hang off every few inches of his chest in various colors as ornaments. Green, crunchy fringe wraps around his body and the entire smell of the get up has an underlying of must despite washing it twice when he got home.
A cloud of white fills the air in front of his face as he breathes heavily walking up Savannah’s front steps. He can hear music and laughter inside. His fist knocks forcefully on the door to be heard over the music. The distinct click of high heels against hardwood can be heard from the other side. The knob turns and Savannah appears. Whatever she is wearing is not the theme she told Lio about earlier this week. Her gorgeous body is wrapped in soft, red velvet to her mid-thigh. A deep V cuts down her chest showing off her plumped cleavage like it’s just for Lio. He has to hold his tongue to the roof of his mouth to prevent it from dropping open in appreciation.
“What! Lio Meier came to my little party!?” She squeals out excitedly.
In one of her hands is a glass of red sangria. Apples and cranberries bob in it as she leans forward to hug him with one arm. He steps forward, careful of her toes in her peep toe heels that show off her white toe nails. Her blonde hair is down and curled, getting all up in Lio’s face as he leans in further to their hug. She smells like home to Lio- specifically the Swiss Summer when the mountain wildflowers are at their peak. When Savannah pulls back to take him in again, she bursts out laughing. Despite the daze she has him under, Lio laughs and grins back at her.
"You asked me to." He knows his reaction is delayed but he couldn't speak with how good her breasts felt against his disgustingly ugly sweater. "Is this your interpretation of ugly or did something get lost in translation?" He chuckles, grabbing her hand and encouraging her to spin for him. He is unashamed at the way his blue eyes curve over the soft velvet hugging her ass cheeks. His favorite thing about watching her walk away from him after they get sassy with each other.
Savannah has had a few glasses of sangria already; she was nervous about offering to host the Holiday party, so the spin makes her a little dizzy. Her free hand comes to Lio's chest to catch herself. He wraps his hand around her back, holding her close until she looks up at him with wide eyes, very aware of how close their lips are to each other.
"This feels like a bad time to tell you I was kidding." She bites her lip, but giggles too
Disappointment surges through Lio's chest.
Fuck.
He thought this would be an opportunity to impress the pretty girl he can’t stop thinking about. The one that makes his stomach flip in his body when she smiles or laughs, even if it is at his expense. He figured if he showed up at this party in the ugliest, most outrageous sweater, maybe Savannah would start to see him as something more than a hockey superstar. She has him pegged for exactly what he is, but… maybe for her he wants to be something different. Now, Lio feels like he won’t have that opportunity.
He looks beyond her at his teammates, seeing them all dressed in suits or nice attire while he is in this loser ass sweater and black jeans. At this moment, he makes eye contact with Rob, a seasoned vet, who spits out his whiskey neat at the sight of him. Great.
"Holy fuck, Meier!” Rob hollers down the hallway.
This gets the rest of his teammates curious and they all take turns, peaking around the walls to take in Lio Meier in his ugly Christmas sweater. This is what he gets for breaking his own rules and trying to impress a woman. The same woman who purses her lips against an obvious laugh. Her blue eyes squint up at him as she covers her hand with her mouth, eyes squinting closed as she laughs again. The distraction luckily hides the bummer in his eyes as he takes the jokes and cat calls while moving further into the apartment.
Savannah's place looks amazing. It has an air of HGTV or those magazine you always see on the end caps in the grocery store. Everything has a place and it’s bright and shiny, but incredibly welcoming, just like it’s occupant. Savannah has a clear knack for decorating that reminds him of his mom. Mama Meier would love it in here.
From his left, someone hands Lio a beer and he quickly chugs half of it down. He scans the room, giving head nods and accepting the continued razzing from his teammates. He spots the alcohol cart across the room by the rookies. Figures they would be posting up there. Lio works his way to the front, grabbing a shot glass and taking a quick hit of whiskey. The comfort of the burn grips his esophagus and he feels his heartbeat fall down ten more beats to normal.
”Yeah, that sweater is so fucking ugly, I need to drink." One of the rookies, Jax, jokes to his right. His laughter is silenced by Lio's direct, angry side eye. The look also diverts Jax’s eyes away from Sav's ass a few moments later.
"Hold my beer the rest of the night, rook." Lio snaps after recognizing where he was looking. Nobody looks at her like that in front of him. Plus this dipshit’s girlfriend is right there. Who does that?
Lio converses with a few guys, feeling looser after he finishes his beer and whiskey, chasing them with another of each. At some point, he tries some eggnog. It’s not is favorite but it packs a serious punch so he keeps drinking the creamy concoction. Eventually, nature calls and he dips out of the room to go to the bathroom. As he is washing his hands, he catches a glimpse of his sweater. Frustrated and disappointed, he tugs it over his shoulders, going with the crisp white undershirt beneath instead. He has suffered enough.
On his way back to the main area, he walks by Savannah's office on his right. He backtracks a few steps, peeking in. Just like Sav, it's perfectly put together. He walks in further, running his fingers along her white desk. He sees pictures of her and her friends and of whom he assumes is her parents. She’s a blend of both of them. He can’t remember seeing them around the Prudential Center before. In the corner, a small Christmas tree lights the room up. The twinkling lights call him over to it. He takes in the pink, white and teal ornaments, scrunching his nose at all the glitter on the tree. He lifts a pink ornament up with his pointer finger.
"Don't touch, Mr. Grinch." Sav murmurs from the doorway. Lio turns quick, cheeks turning pink at being caught snooping
"Mmm, I may be a snoop but you're a liar, Savannah Miller.” She laughs at his ribbing.
"I'm the liar in this room? How many times have you lied to get someone in bed with you?”
"Too many." Lio admits. He watches her face. She isn't even phased by his confession. She knows all about him and his games yet she walks further into the room with him. Lio’s stomach does summersaults. There is a heaviness in the air with each tap of her shoes closer to him.
“I called you a Grinch because you don’t seem to be having much fun at this holiday party.” She murmurs, drawing an imaginary frown over her lips.
“You watching me?” He tilts his head at her.
“Hard to miss with that color on. And stop dodging my question.”
“I’m having a great time. Beer is cold. Whiskey is warm. And now that I don’t want to claw my skin off cause of this, I’m ready to enjoy the rest of the night.” He holds the sweater up at her.
“I really thought you would get all squinty and then we would laugh about it like we usually do. Not… whatever this is.” Lio shrugs like he isn’t sure what she is talking about it. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I thought it would be fun and it obviously fell flat.”
“Takes more than a joke to hurt me.” Lio chuckles. Savannah’s blue eyes bore into him. It makes Lio uncomfortable. He hates the way she sees him, worms her way right under the shiny, metal armor he puts around himself to keep everyone out except a few select people. Savannah keeps staring. Lio shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “What?” He finally asks.
“I just can’t stop thinking about how you’re the only man who has ever been in this room. Despite all the deliberate decisions on decor in here to bring out a feminine energy, your dark masculinity completely dominates the space.”
Lio doesn’t notice feminine or masculine energy. All he feels is the buzzing connection between the two of them. Can’t she feel it? How a large magnet is pulling his arms up to reach for her. The way the room dares him to fuse his fingers to her hips and bring her into his body until every inch of them connects. Because for Lio, the urge is all consuming. Savannah steps forward. Her hand brushes at the long strands of hair falling across his forehead.
“Sav.” Lio croaks, voice coated roughly from the alcohol and his desire for her. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, step back in three… two…”
Lio doesn’t get to one. Savannah hastily closes the gap.
Her fingers move from his forehead to his cheek and she tugs. His face collides with hers. The kiss is awkward for a moment as their lips miss each other, connecting with cheeks instead. Quickly, Lio turns, connecting them finally. At Last by Etta James may as well be playing as their own movie soundtrack. Lio’s body screams at the delicious pressure of her mouth. Of all the kisses he’s had, this one accelerates to the top. It consumes him in a burning fire that lights his soul up. Explosions, bells, and whistles go off in his brain as he wraps his hand around her. They are as much warnings as they are encouragements. The softness of her dress makes for an easy glide of his skin across her back. Then Savannah let’s out a soft moan into his mouth.
Fuck.
Lio feels the tightness building in his pants. Savannah pushes forward and he stumbles back. His other hand comes to her hip so he has one in each of his palms. She steps forward again, not letting their lips part except to run her tongue along his bottom lip.
Oh fuck. If Lio’s eyes were open, they would roll to the back of his head.
Gradually, Lio falls backwards, startling until his butt hits the cool leather of a chair. Savannah climbs into his lap. Her hands greedily grip his cheeks as her tongue nudges into his mouth. She moans against it. Lio sighs, resisting the urge to roll her hips into his tight zipper. He wants this to last, become a slow build that irritates and inspires him if she’ll ever let him have her completely. Her dress is bunching up higher on her thighs. Lio forces the fabric down a bit more with his thumbs to help keep her covered.
This hasty make out continues until their lips are puffy and their chins and noses are bright red. Wetness is highlighted by the blinking lights of her Christmas tree. They both pull away panting for breath. Lio can still taste the slight sweetness of sangria from her mouth.
“I wish I didn’t know how good you are at that.” She whispers. Lio pecks her lips again. “Gonna think about this every time I’m in your interview scrum. You’ve always made it hard for me to do my job, Meier.” She leans back, ghosting her fingers along his lips that she made swollen. Lio plumps his lips beneath them to kiss more of her skin.
Laughter carries down the hall to them. Regretfully, Savannah eases herself out of Lio’s lap, both of them knowing they need to rejoin the group. She shimmies her skirt back down her thighs completely as Lio looks away to give her a bit of privacy.
“You go back first.” Lio gestures, not getting up from the chair so he can hide what their kissing did to him. Savannah nods, heading towards the still ajar door. She glances over her shoulder at him, fingers touching her lips in wonder. Those same lips tilt up at Lio before she disappears into the hall.
Lio leans his head back against the chair, closing his eyes.
Sav is righ. How is he supposed to forget about that?
- - -
Sweat drips down from Lio’s hair as he leans down, working out his skate laces at their first practice back from the holiday. All the fondue, desserts, and bread Lucie and Liv stuffed him with this holiday felt like a 12 pound balloon in his stomach with each stride he took. But it was worth it. He wiggles his foot from side to side to work his first foot up and out. Once the first one is free, he leans down to work on the other foot.
A pair of black, high-heeled boots come to stand in front of his locker. He shakes the hair out of his eyes, looking up to see if those boots belong to who he hopes. They do.
Standing in front of him in the ugliest sweater he has ever seen is Savannah Miller. It’s red with ruffles on every square inch of the fabric, including around the collar and each wrist. Bells are attached in random points including two that are weirdly close to the middle of each breast, almost like it was intentional. She grins down at Lio, tapping her phone against her thigh anxiously. Snickers fill the room as Lio leans back up, letting his hands hang off his legs between his thighs. He has not seen or heard from Savannah since his lips were on hers a few days ago.
“That might be worse than mine.”
“It is.” She confirms. “Felt necessary to go big to get back on your good side.”
“Really wasn’t. I’m fine.” He reminds her. But fuck if his little Grinch heart isn’t growing two sizes in his chest right now.
“Sure, but I am also doing a feature on you for February, so I need your full cooperation. Thought this might help.”
“Ah, work related.”
“Not completely.” She shakes her head while biting her bottom lip.
“Well, in that case, I’m happy to be featured but, ah, I only talk over dinner and a bottle of wine.” A coy smile spreads Savannah’s lips further apart. She leans in closer, glancing to each side to make sure no one is eavesdropping.
“How about my place? I can interview you in my office? You seemed to like the chair in there. Really comfortable…” Lio can’t help but laugh.
“It was a good chair. I liked the velvet blanket in my lap too.” A deep red blushes up Savannah’s cheeks and down her throat. He wants to lean forward right now and kiss the path of her embarrassed rash in front of the whole locker room.
“Tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow. Have a date with my favorite Rangers fan.” He promised Stell he would come over for hot dogs and Kraft macaroni.
“Now that’s a girl I’m okay playing second fiddle too.”
“She’s pretty great.” Lio nods, kicking off his skate and Savannah glances over her shoulder.
“I should go.”
“Friday works though.” He fills in, not wanting her to leave without a plan in place. “I could come over at 5.”
“Sure. Bring your sweater.”
“I wound’t last five minutes in that thing.”
“Yeah. I know.” Her direct eye contact makes Lio’s eyes widen in surprise.
If this sweater gets him laid by Savannah Miller, he is keeping it the rest of his god damn life.
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get him BACK! - Lockwood x Reader
A/N: The idea for this fic has been living rent-free in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to write it all out hahah I wanted to try a new style of writing, something more lighthearted and not so serious/depressing so here's a fun lil fic based off get him back! by olivia rodrigo! couldn't decide which gif to put so I put BOTH lolll ofc I made some modifications to better fit Lockwood and there are some parts where their relationship isn't the healthiest butttt it's a work of fiction soo take with a grain of salt! Tyyy to @karensirkobabes for giving me the push I needed to get this written down <3 enemies to lovers, reader is a Fittes agent similar to the I can see you fic (not exactly the same set up but quite similar so think parallel universe?) HAVE FUN, 5.4k
Enough was enough. She picked up the golf club and stomped out.
“Y/N. Y/N! Where are you - hey!”
She pulled her arm back, and now she was bringing it smashing down, probably inefficiently so, but she didn’t care. She punctuated Lockwood’s yells with shattering glass and screams of her own, wreaking havoc on his car like a woman scorned. She was a woman scorned. How dare he be so irritating yet so fucking irresistible all in the same breath?
She had met him shortly after she came back from a much needed summer vacation, ready to dive into a case that ended up lasting nearly 7 months. They had been assigned to the case around the tail-end of August, but for some odd reason Barnes had been keen on briefing them individually. Perhaps it had something to do with how both of them had hounded him after their frosty first encounter. She had tried her best to be open-minded, but she couldn’t help how her face twisted over having to work with this pompous prick, convinced that he was God’s gift to them all. That was enough to incite some snarky, underhanded comment and she retaliated, and they went back and forth until they realised Barnes was gone.
In hindsight, maybe it was their extreme hounding of him as they begged to be assigned elsewhere that made him decide to never be in the same room as both of them.
"She's uptight, narrow-minded, contemptuous -"
"I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I-"
"- bossy, irritating, ill-tempered, and did I mention uptight?"
"- I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I-"
"Enough!" Barnes could only walk so fast and they could walk faster. "The rest of the teams are already stretched thin over this spiked string of hauntings across the country. So if you want to keep your job, and if you want the commission I know you so desperately need, I suggest you find a way to put aside your differences."
So she couldn’t avoid him forever, though she tried her best. He just had to have an opinion over everything that came out of her mouth and that opinion always had to contradict hers.
“I think we should split up into the different rooms.”
“Hmm. I think it’s best we all stay in the dining hall.”
“But the Sources could be in the rooms too.”
“But it’s unlikely, since most of the guests were killed during a dinner party held…where was it? Oh yes, the dining hall.”
“All the cutlery from that party is in the kitchen, the tablecloths in the linen cupboard, the chairs in -“
“Because cutlery, tablecloths and chairs are known for being prime Sources. Infamous, really.”
She hated how mocking his eyes were. She was a leader of strong character with resolute faith in her instincts, so damn did it sting to cave.
“Fine. Shaw, you’ll set up the chains -"
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy’ll do it.”
“Why?”
“She’s the best Listener in all of London; she’ll know the best place to set them up.”
“Fine. We’ll meet in the dining hall at 5 pm-”
“Hang on - what about the groups?”
She mouthed wordlessly at him. “Wha - we just decided that we’ll all be in the same room! What groups?”
“To look for the Sources in the linen closets, the kitchen, the -“
“I thought we just decided that those trinkets were too menial.”
“Oh, well, we can never be a hundred percent sure, can’t we? A good agent is thorough, you know.”
She blinked, her eyes sliding over the rest of her team’s as she wordlessly mouthed retorts which were too stunned to form. She tugged at her hair, dreaming of yanking it from her scalp strand by strand.
“Fine. Fine. Fine.” She slammed her journal on the desk, treating the pages with less care than she ought to be. “Shaw and Karim, you’ll take the parlour. Lockwood and Vernon, you’ll take the master bedroom. Carlyle and -“
“Vernon? Hasn’t he been sick, like, three times this week?”
“I’LL do the master bedroom with you, Lockwood. Anything wrong with that? Hm? Anything to nitpick or whine or complain about?”
He leaned back in his chair, his smile a little too lazy for her liking. “Trying to get me into a bed? We’ve only just met.”
She had to physically restrain herself from screaming at him. That wasn't any different from the kind of digs they took at each other in private, so why was her face beginning to heat up?
"What can I say?" She spoke through gritted teeth. "You bring out the absolute worst in me."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thankfully, by the time they were stationed in their different rooms, most of the fight had bled out of the two of them, and they were the closest they have ever been to amicable, or even civil. Lockwood insisted that he was better at handling a rapier than her so they decided that he would keep the visitor back, should it make an appearance, as she searched the room.
A visitor did show up, screaming something awful at the two of them. She was spiralling in despair as she tore apart drawers and boxes, coming up empty. Then, in a sudden wave of inspiration, she realised that they hadn't considered looking under the floorboards. There had been a loose one in the corner of the room, but the only problem was that the visitor was floating mere inches above the floorboard.
Lockwood, with all his proclaimed prowess, seemed quite evenly matched with the visitor, and he looked far too pale to comprehend a new plan. She squeezed her eyes shut and launched herself to the floorboard, hoping that the surprise would be enough to give the visitor pause. There was an anguished yell mixed with aggressive taunts from Lockwood, and she could make out the hiss of a flare as her fingers scrabbled for the Source: a pen. She flung it into her net and the visitor disappeared, leaving behind Lockwood sprawled on the floor, having been backed into a corner.
She numbly put the chains away and shouldered their bag of supplies, starting the trek downstairs while Lockwood caught his breath and struggled with something. She hadn't missed the outrage in his eyes and the way his jaw was ticking something furious, and prepared for the worst.
"What the hell was that? That wasn't the plan!"
"Oh, but you provoking the visitor was?"
"I was drawing it out! You were inches away from being ghost-touched."
"I was not."
"Were too!"
"Ugh, you're such a child!"
"You know, none of this would be happening if you didn't suck at finding Sources."
"Like you would have been any better."
"Actually, yes, I would have."
"Fine!" She turned and threw the bag at him, relishing the way it (momentarily) knocked the wind out of him. "You look for the rest, and God help you if you don't find them all."
Fortunately or unfortunately, her threat never saw the light of day as the rest of them had managed to find the other Sources with not nearly as much fuss as them. Everyone was too tired to talk much on the way back to DEPRAC. She began drafting their report while Lockwood helped Lucy limp along to one of the nurses. She signed the report, not looking up as Lockwood approached.
"Come to yell at me some more?"
"Ha-ha." But it was wooden and deflated. She glanced at his exhausted face and decided it wasn't worth it. "I was just...taken aback, is all. I didn't mean to -"
"It's fine. I wouldn't have lasted this long if I crumbled every time someone got mad at me."
The corner of his mouth quirked upwards and she felt this absurd sense of accomplishment.
"Still, let me make it up to you. Let's all go for dinner. My treat."
"Oh." She felt her face warm as she clumsily tried to remind herself how awful he was and how terrible having dinner with him sounded. "It's no need, really -"
"We'll be at this for a while, if tonight was any indication, so we might as well keep our spirits high."
"But-"
"I'll get George to start flagging down some cabs." With that, he briskly turned away, case report in hand, while she stared at him like a goldfish. So he was a prick on and off the job. Who did he think he was, ordering her around like that. Part of her wanted to refuse to come along out of spite, but she was starving, so she settled for a silent internal rebellion.
As much as she hated to admit it, the food was good and her team members seemed to be having the most fun they've had in months, if their noise was any indication. George and Ned were locked in some intense argument about their research on the house and Lucy was desperately trying to get them to shut up, in between a conversation about cheese rolling. She was getting lightheaded from laughing over Lucy's unusual fascination and George being George ("Shaw, say one more thing about my page holder and I'll come over there and fuck you up.") when Lockwood turned to her, half-yelling into her ear, and she nearly choked on her drink. Her weird sense of humour was usually perceived as non-existent, but Lockwood somehow managed to come up with the most out-of-pocket statements that made her sides ache. But she still hated his guts, of course.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so began their convoluted relationship. Sure, they were both prone to the extremes, but in an oddly balanced kind of way. They would butt heads and swear at each other copiously during cases and then tiredly patch up (mostly) over dinner. She had started to grow fond of their team dinners, but only because of the camraderie and fostered and not because it meant having the thigh of a certain someone with excessively long legs pressing into hers in their cramped corner of the booth. That was just an unfortunate by-product that she, er, suffered through. That, and the wrestling with Lockwood over the bill ("How are you affording any of this? Aren't you at the edge of bankruptcy??"). Their relationship was complicated enough before his string of small gifts began.
Lockwood walked into the agent lounge where she was examining the file of their mission that night, and her eyes barely flickered in acknowledgement. The case was excruciatingly demanding to the point where they spent less time apart than together. He tossed a small bag on her papers before being accosted by one of her team members. By the time he was done, the lounge had cleared out and she had unwrapped the package. Her eyebrow twitched.
"What's this?"
"Oh, I thought someone might have told you by now. This here is a nifty little device called a watch, and -"
"Hardy har har. You're hilarious. I meant, why are you giving this to me?"
"Oh. Didn't your watch get smashed a few nights back?"
She grimaced. It had been rough to accept, but she had slammed against the wall so roughly that it was a miracle she didn't get a concussion. She had really liked it and she had a feeling he had picked up on how much she had been missing it over the past few days.
"Er, yes, but what does that have to do with you?"
"Feel bad, is all."
"Like how you felt bad enough to buy me a designer pen?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." His coat was draped on his chair and he was working on a biscuit tin from the cabinet. "That was just a momento to commemorate our first house together."
"Uh-huh. Sure." She reluctantly but carefully put the watch away. "You better not make a habit of this. I...appreciate the gesture, but I don't need any of this."
"I know."
"So this is the last, um, trinket. Right?"
He leaned forward, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Aw. You're cute as a button." He tapped her nose as she spluttered angrily, innocently picking up one of the maps she was pouring over as the rest of the team started to arrive.
After the case, she began writing the report as usual, because Lockwood always had some reason or the other to dawdle. But when she looked up, she felt her breath hitch. The scene was crowded, but he was somehow in her direct line of vision, talking to one of her team members, Catherine, who was laughing at whatever he was saying. She stood there, stunned, as if only just remembering that he had a life outside of her. Betrayal stabbed in her gut. Really, she only had herself to blame for thinking she was somehow special. Maybe it was the long hours, or the exhaustion that had caught up with her, but for a moment there...she could have sworn...
She didn't realise he was standing in front of her. He made some teasing remark as he looked over the report, but she wasn't in the mood. She was never bound to stay with him while he made his own additions to the report, but there was always something magnetic about him that fascinated her, and she wouldn't even realise until he was done. But not today. She glared at him before turning away swiftly, his smooth voice cutting off abruptly.
"Y/N?" He caught up with her, carelessly signing the report. "Was it- was it something I said?"
She turned to look at him, no longer illusioned by dreams or fantasies her mind had a particular propensity to concoct.
"Ugh, you're such a boy."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She had never been a sentimental person, but as they ascended in the elevator of the illusions museum that was their final case, she was feeling some type of way. She glanced at Lockwood, whose eyes snapped up to her face, and she squinted at him suspiciously. But he took care to keep his face blank, so she looked away. She wasn't completely innocent herself, either. It was just the showy swagger with which he walked that drew her eyes to how his rapier hung near his hip. He was always one for theatrics.
When they exited the elevator, it looked as though they were faced with a dead end, until they realised it was just an oddly placed wall.
"I'll climb over, since I'm the one with any real height."
"You're just a fraction taller than me." So not true, which he picked up on as well with a short bark of laughter. Her neck would hurt from looking up at him if they were too close together.
"I'm nearly 1.9 metres tall, and-"
"Oh, shut up; you are not that tall!" But there was no real heat behind her words, and she rolled her eyes at his grin before he pulled himself over. Once they were both at the other side, they wandered around in a maze of mirrors, looking into every door they came across, until Lockwood found one gleaming of iron that wouldn't budge.
"I'm going to pick it."
"Lockwood, no. If the door has an iron frame; it's probably locked for a reason."
"What are the odds?"
"Very high."
"Eh, I'm not convinced."
"Leave the door!"
"Geez, relax. You're no fun."
"...you're picking the lock right now, aren't you?"
"Yep."
She groaned frustratedly, haphazardly trying to get to him through the maze, but it was too late. A shriek rang out in the deathly silence, followed by loud cursing from Lockwood. She caught glimpses of the Spectre through the reflections, which luckily seemed just as confused as them, though significantly more aggrieved. She somehow managed to find the room the Spectre had burst out of, though it seemed to have sealed shut again. She yelled to Lockwood, and tugged harder at the door, finally wrenching it open. She heard his footsteps as he drew closer, rolling in just as she shut the door against the Spectre wailing at his heels.
"Lockwood," she gasped in relief, "you are so full of shit."
Still panting against the door with an angry cut running through his eyebrow, he pressed his mouth against hers, and they were a mess of lips, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. Just as suddenly as it started, it was over, and he looked away, not meeting her eyes. Her vision swam. She had never felt so alive.
"You're maddening," he choked out. "What do you suggest we do, then?"
She was dizzy and felt sure that her legs were going to give away any minute now. "I- I don't...um...god, where is that humming coming from?" She spun around, the buzzing grating against her nerves. After some hunting, they managed to find a box hidden in a cavity in the wall which reeked of psychic charge. They wrapped it in their iron net and instantly the wailing ceased.
They took the elevator down in silence. She watched him from the corner of her eye. His eyes swept her from head to toe with a dark, unrecognisable expression, before he turned to face the doors like her. What was it? Disdain? Interest? Contempt? Awe? She wanted to shake an answer out of him.
"It's hard to be on the same wavelength with someone who insists on arguing with me about everything."
“Look, I’m not the one who decided that you were a terrible person from the get-go.”
“I did not do that. I looked at the evidence and made an educated guess. Besides, I never meant to be so blatant with it. I’m just…an expressive person.”
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, grimacing as she heard the smile in his voice.
“Expressive, huh?”
“Oh, sod off.”
He clicked his tongue. She wanted to rip it out with her teeth. "You can be so adorable when you're nice."
"Oh yeah? What am I when I'm not nice?"
The elevator doors opened. Suddenly, his warm breath was ghosting the exposed sliver of her shoulder.
"Hot as fuck."
She briefly short-circuited, Lockwood long gone by the time she came to her senses. She hurried out, kicking herself over how heavily she was breathing over a stupid whisper like that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a full month before she saw him again, and she never got fully used to working with just her team again. She would turn, wondering why Lockwood was remarkably quiet, or waiting for some smartass comment, but it would never come, and it rubbed at something raw inside of her. She hadn't laughed the way she did with him since he left, and the memory of his bruising kiss hovered at the back of her mind. Not that she missed him or anything, ew. She was glad he was gone. So glad. Good...riddance.
She entered her flat, fumbling for the light switch, sighing at the pile of letters that stood abandoned on her desk. It didn't take long for some part of her to long to reach out to Lockwood, but every letter she wrote was disgustingly sappy. Sometimes, in a fit of desperation she would put on her coat, determined to post her latest letter, but the resolve would fade before she even stepped out. She'd be an embarrassment to Fittes and he would awkwardly explain how she wasn't anyone special and she would never live it down. How humiliating to be rejected by someone who made her life a living hell.
She stabbed her latest letter on her mantle with a newfound passion for vengeance. This was all his fault, the sick bastard. She was going to get him back.
The opportunity somehow presented itself by fate. The next day had just happened to be her day off, when she received a panicked phone call from Lucy. She had to return home for some emergency but George was down with the flu, and Lockwood was away at a client meeting, so would it be alright if she came over for a few hours, just until Lockwood got back?
She went over and calmed a frantic Lucy rushed off her feet enough for her to get to the train station. George was taking a nap, and though Lucy had mentioned that he'd make some soup for himself when he woke, she decided to make herself useful. She was just finishing up the touches on some spaghetti for herself and Lockwood when he arrived. He looked a little stunned to see her, and she couldn't quite find her voice either. He looked more sombre, somehow, like the last month had weighed heavily on him.
"...hey."
"Hey."
"I'm sorry about all this, it's just there was a strike, and the trains were all-"
"Oh, no worries."
"Thank you for the - is that soup?"
"Yes, and some, erm, watery spaghetti-"
"No, it looks amazing, really. You shouldn't have..."
"It was no trouble." They paused as they heard a thump coming from George's door. She left to check on him.
"George? Is everything all right? Is it the soup?"
George coughed, calling out in a raspy voice. "Soup's wonderful, thank you. That isn't Ned, is it?"
"Hm? Oh, no, Lockwood's just come home. But he came around earlier today. He wanted to see how you were doing but you were asleep."
"Oh," he wheezed. "Well, you tell him to piss off if he comes back. And maybe you can tell him I'm doing alright." He took a sip of the soup and closed his eyes. "Try not to murder Lockwood till I'm better. I want a front-row seat."
She smiled to herself as she walked back to the kitchen. Lockwood had put out two plates of the spaghetti for the both of them, and was waiting for her.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded. He picked up his fork, then set it back down, almost as an afterthought.
“You didn’t poison this, did you?” She flung her dishcloth at him, which he caught, but just barely. Damn his reflexes. But things were starting to feel normal again.
“Don’t tempt me.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lockwood had a job to do at a cemetery that evening, and though he insisted he would be fine on his own, the look in his eyes was enough of a request for her help.
"You know," he was saying on the way there, "I've got another job two days later, if you're interested, that is."
"That sounds - oh. Hang on, I'm going to the movies with Terence that day."
"Terence?" She turned to see an uncharacteristically confused Lockwood, looking as though the wind had left his sails. "Not Terence Fisher?"
"He's the only Terence I know. No worries, I think we can shift-"
"No." A stubborn streak that had lied dormant since their reunion emerged, rearing its ugly head. "It's fine. I think it's just a Type One anyway."
"Oh. I mean, you can never be too sure-"
"I'll be fine. I can handle it. You go enjoy your...your date with Terence." He looked so disgusted, and that only enraged her further. They were getting along so well. What was his problem? She responded to his cold shoulder with one of her own, glaring out the cab window.
Despite her anger, the case went smoothly if a bit quieter than normal, and she enjoyed their familiar rhythm that she had so dearly missed. Somewhere in the middle, Lockwood looked as though his anger had thawed, but then his features changed, like he had just remembered something, and he walked away frostily. She swore, biting her tongue. Fucking Lockwood.
She wandered around, kicking at pebbles, while waiting for Lockwood to straighten out his fees with the client when her heart stopped. It couldn't be. She pulled back the vines creeping around one of the headstones in an unmarked plot. The grave of Celia Lockwood.
Once she had gotten over her shock, the words seemed to flow out of her mouth of their own accord. "Um, hi." She cleared her throat. "This is probably...the most disrespectful thing I've done, but, uh, I have to ask about your son. Why the fuck is he so aggravating?" She laughed nervously, hoping Celia Lockwood wouldn't be hunting her down in her sleep for this. "He sucks. I'm sorry, I know it's terrible to say, and I'm sure you were lovely people who gave him the most loving home he could wish for...but god does he suck."
"Y/N?" Lockwood called from a distance. She waved to the headstones before hurrying back, before he could see where she had been loitering.
"I need to drop the report off at DEPRAC. Want to come with? Unless you're off to meet Terence, that is." He looked away. There it was again. Gosh, would it kill him to not pick a fight for once?
"No, I'm not meeting Terence. Not that it's any of your business."
He muttered under his breath, yanking the cab door open more viciously than needed. She could feel her temper bubbling under the surface and Lockwood's was clearly only barely restrained.
"You know," he had started, jaw ticking promisingly, once they were in the elevator. "I don't understand what your problem is."
"Me? I'm not the one throwing a tantrum like a baby."
He sharply inhaled, and she defiantly stared at him, daring him to speak. The doors opened again, and a crowd of people entered, pressing them to the back of the elevator. He seemed to decide against whatever he was going to say.
"Y/N L/N..." he murmured, exhaling through his teeth. They were nearly touching, but not quite, but she could feel the vibrations of him talking. "You are one tough nut to crack."
"Bite me." Her whisper was rougher than intended, but she was unable to tear her thoughts away from her irritation with him. Why was she feeling so shaken up? Stupid Lockwood was stupid, big deal; it wasn't anything new.
"Oh, I think I'd leave that to Terence."
"What is your obsession -" She felt this wave of euphoria wash over her as realisation struck. "Oh my god. Oh. My god. You're jealous."
"Am not." But he looked too disturbed to seem even remotely convincing. They had reached their floor and he was quickly walking away from her, and for once she didn't mind running to keep up with his long strides. Her eyes glittered with glee. Oh, this was absolutely delicious.
"You are so. You can't stand the thought of Terence and I together, can you?" She crowed, only mildly breathless, relishing his discomfort, her words honey on her tongue. Ah, at last, sweet, sweet revenge for his months of hell. "Does it hurt? Does it sting? Does it eat away at you on the ins-"
"Please. Like you've never been jealous either." The gleam in his eye looked so knowing that she felt herself falter.
"How'd you know?"
"I didn't. I...what was it? Ah, yes, 'looked at the evidence and made an educated guess.'"
She shoved his shoulder, and he just laughed. "Still not as down bad as you, idiot."
He slammed the report on the counter, frightening the poor receptionist. "I am not 'down bad.' But you can't pretend like who you're seeing is none of my business."
"But it isn't! Why do you care so much anyway, huh?"
"I just do."
"Then make it your business." Something unstable was climbing up her throat, and the nervous look in his eye told her that he was thinking about the same thing as her - that time he had pulled her lips to his.
"I...I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because...because you're the most insufferable person I've ever had the misfortune of meeting-"
"At least I'm not a completely emotionally avoidant dickhead-"
"An emotionally avoidant dickhead whose throat you stuck your tongue down-"
She shrieked, and before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling her arm back, and she heard the thud of her fist connecting with his cheekbone. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure that looked suspiciously like Barnes hurriedly back out of the lobby.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was all over before it even began. The uppercut was enough to shut him up for the ride back to 35 Portland Row, where she forced him into a chair at the dining table and pulled out their first aid kit. She
"I'm sorry I punched you." Not even a little, but she had to be the first to try to make amends. Not that he would have the initiative. He just sullenly looked down at the table, twitching his cheek a little. "Is there something you'd like to say to me? An apology, perhaps?"
"Apologise for what? The truth?"
She clenched her teeth. "It was crass, and in public -"
"Big deal. I'm always crass in public with you. What was so bad about it this time that you just had to beat me up?"
"I didn't beat you up -"
"Oh, so I just did this to myself, then?"
She had promised George that she would wait till he was better, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out on strangling him. "Enough with the snark."
"I'll tell you why it bothered you so much."
"Lockwood."
"Because it was true. It was the truth, and it hurt, and you couldn't stand it-"
For the second time in less than a span of an hour, she saw red. She stumbled out the door, grabbing the golf club that was in the stand with their rapiers, and there she was now. George wasn't too upset; he seemed to enjoy the view from his bedroom window.
"Y/N -"
"SHUT UP!"
"Y/N, please, let's talk about this -"
"Oh, now you want to talk?"
"Please, just put down the golf club -"
"FUCK YOU!" She continued demolishing his car until he finally wrestled the club out of her hands.
"What's gotten into you?" Lockwood cried, and he looked concerned enough to give her pause. She blinked her murderous rage away, regret overwhelming her. Numbly, she allowed herself to be guided back inside, where Lockwood made a cup of tea for both of them.
“Oh god.” She buried her face in her hands, the embarrassment finally catching up to her. Had she completely lost her mind? “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry you had to see all that.”
“S’okay.”
“I’ll leave now.”
“Hey - what for?”
“Are...are you kidding me? I just smashed your car to bits. I might be medically certified insane.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll put up with it.”
“...you’ll hate that. It’s rotten work.”
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.” She exhaled, watching the tiny daisies at the windowsill sigh and flutter in the barely-there wind. He aggrieved her like a bad habit she couldn't quite kick.
“You’re…a masochist.”
“I’m aware.”
“No, I don’t think you are.”
“Why else would I have held out so long for you?”
The teasing was back, and she let out a short, indignant gasp before walking towards him and sitting in his lap. Her eyelashes grazed his cheek as she traced the dressing on his bruise. Pity that his gorgeous face had been the only punching bag in the vicinity.
“I’m always going to hate loving you. You know that, right?”
“Know it? It’s my crowning achievement.”
She punched his shoulder and he let out an exaggerated wheeze that made her laugh despite herself. She shifted and leaned on his chest as they watched the sunlight glimmer over the shards that littered the driveway. He was both the light of her life and the insanity that drove her to destruction. She didn’t feel so bad about the car anymore.
Serves him right for fucking her up this way.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So...Lockwood."
They hadn't been overly obvious about their relationship, but it wasn't exactly something they could keep from George and Lucy. Lucy was back from her trip and was tickled pink by the smashed up Volvo in the driveway.
"Yeah. Lockwood."
"You do realise that he is absolutely batshit crazy?"
She smiled into her tea. “Yeah. You’re probably right. But,” she smiled innocently. “I am my father’s daughter. Maybe I can fix him.”
#anthony lockwood#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood imagine#anthony lockwood oneshot#anthony lockwood x you#fanfiction#fanfic#guts#olivia rodrigo#get him back!
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