#both of them are quick to apologise and that helps a lot

[canisalbus]

have vasco & machete ever gotten into any big arguments?

.

#I think if you get close to someone you're bound to get into arguments eventually it's only natural #Vasco and Machete don't argue a lot neither of them enjoy and seek out conflict #Vasco is very patient and hard to rile up #and Machete bottles up his emotions and mostly just seethes quietly #in the original canon the time they get to spend together is always limited and they don't want to waste it being angry at each other #they probably bicker and disagree a little bit more casually in the modern au but it's purely because they feel more safe to do so #there's a lot less at stake and their situation is stabler #and for the most part they can handle any arguments in a reasonably healthy and mature way #answered #anonymous #both of them are quick to apologise and that helps a lot #the will to sort things out always prevails usually sooner than later

[cozycottagetarot]

PAC: Your Person's Appearance

What Are Their Vibes & Characteristics?

PILE 1 (Source) | PILE 2 (Source) | PILE 3 (Source)

This was supposed to be a quick reading but idk what happened 🤨. I apologise if it's scattered though I think I saw that every time 😅.

Anyways, this reading covers your person's vibes they give off as well as any notable features about them. As always this reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

Version 1 Of This Reading

PAC Reading Masterlist | Paid Readings

PILE 1

Initial Impressions: Dark features, intelligent look, balanced masculine and feminine energies, ambitious, helpful, burnout, (Mount) Vesuvius, mystical, dreamy, starry-eyed, intuitive, regal, physically fit, wish fulfilment, hope, they brighten up the room, a new beginning, secure.

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They have a quiet confidence. Even if they don’t say much of anything, you can sense their self-assuredness. They could be in a position of power career-wise where they oversee others or an operation but I don’t think that it’s something they’re particularly happy about or take lightly. People may think it’s all fun and games for them but actually, it’s quite the opposite. They could actually be quite lonely despite their work. They could have left home and they can’t return to it. They carry a heaviness with them. Working on themselves and levelling up. Focused. Lost in thought. Optimistic. They could exude a sense of hope and magic, just being in their presence may boost your mood. Busy. Moving from one thing to the next. Coffee shop vibes. Proportionate body. Someone new that you’re manifesting. You two could meet at a time of change and transformation in one or both of your lives. If you’re accustomed to unhealthy relationships or drawn to people that aren’t good for you, this is the opposite. They might not even look like they used to. They’ll have a very nice body… you may really like their legs. They may wear clothes that expose a part of their body... particularly their chest. Nurturing energy. I think you may just kind of know or you’ll feel a sense of peace.

Notable Characteristics:

Hair colours are pretty diverse— you’ve got black, red, blonde and grey (or platinum that came to me as well) hair. They could have curly or kinky hair types. The only one that came out for face shapes was square. Their eyes may be hooded or they may have a monolid. They could have a broad or roman shaped nose. When it comes to their mouth. They could have a cupid’s bow and thin lips, straight teeth and they may smirk a lot or their smile looks like a smirk. The last few physical things are they might be on the shorter side or shorter than you and they could have scars or a skin condition (eczema, vitiligo, etc). Their voice may be smooth or animated. Their style could be very aesthetic or vintage and they may wear a lot of formal/business wear. They may come across as quiet/reserved, intelligent and charismatic.

You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 2!

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading

PILE 2

Initial Impressions: Symphony by Clean Bandit feat Zara Larson came to me, Someone you’re destined to meet.. the one who got away or someone who’s unforgettable from day one, dangerous look, security, a strong appearance, protective, fierce, a wish fulfilled, a musician, someone who moves with fluidity, muse, not the knight you expect, a little bit closed off

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They may try to stay under the radar, but I think that may be a little hard… at least when it comes to you. You may need some help with them though, as in getting a relationship started. There’s a wildness to them but it might get them in trouble so they try to tame themselves (I also hear tame their desire for adventure). They may not look like their stable but they are and they worked hard for what they have. I think this person may look focused… a little bit scruffy or dishevelled if they’re a man. I felt like you may be cautious of them but I think that they may also come across as guarded and cautious of others. There’s definitely a sense of maturity to them and wisdom. Highly perceptive. They could have multiple ear piercings. You could meet this person by chance. In one of the previous versions (see the end of your pile’s reading) I think I wrote that you two might meet in a way ‘only the divine could have orchestrated’. I don’t know how to describe it, but it may not be a meeting you could have ever thought to dream of/up. I think of wolves when I think of this person based on the cards as well. They may have a tough exterior, not easily approachable. They’re everything you want whether or not you know or see it at first. They may carry a lot of stress. Actually very passionate and inspiring. A diamond in the rough or a lamp that needs polishing.

Notable Characteristics

Short, curvy (I also remember picking up on husky at one point in a prev version), they could wear glasses but prefer to wear contacts. For hair, you guys have a good set of cards so their hair may be a significant feature. The cards around hair were— wavy, unique cut/style, afro (or puffy hair), salt & pepper, short hair, blonde, grey hair, long hair, and straight hair. For facial hair, it’s either clean-shaven or a beard. Their face shape could be round, square or diamond-shaped. For lips, they could have a cupid’s bow. They could have brown or green eyes or their eye colour may look unique. Their voice could be youthful or higher in pitch or on the opposite end deep. You also got smooth and they could have a foreign accent (whatever that means to you). Lastly, some impressions about this person are they may come across as confident, charismatic, quiet/reserved and professional/polished.

You can check out the discarded versions of this PAC here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 1! Discard 1 (all piles) | Discard V.2 (your pile only)

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.

PILE 3

Initial Impressions: Vibes of being a player. Not being from around the same location. Something about their eyes. A rake. Large and in charge. Good with words or a sweet talker. Lively. Someone not to be tied down. Awakening something with you. Happy. Young. Naive. Sociable. Could be from somewhere warm or they could make you warm. Strong. Visually impaired? Intuitive… like they know the "secrets of the universe”. Jewellery may be significant. Wanderer. Hands. Might wear lots of prints. Rings. Marriage material. They could be a risk taker or look like a risk you’re willing to take. They may be quite flamboyant which might resonate a lot if you’re more reserved in how you dress or present yourself to the world. Grey hair. Frustrating. Baby Charli XCX.

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They might come across as slightly immature and before some of you roll your eyes, immaturity doesn’t always show up as a negative. It could be a playfulness to them that makes you think they haven’t really lived and explored life yet. They may give off the vibe that pursuing them is a risk of some kind on your part. You might feel like you’ve got to be very careful about pursuing them or allowing them to pursue you.

They could look like a social butterfly. An infectious vibe or personality. They may light up the room. For a lot of you, I feel like I’m viewing this person in an educational or work setting and like watching them from afar interact with other people. They could look like a drifter. One dynamic I’m picking up on as well is your person being the type of person willing to pack up and go anywhere on a whim while you may be more cautious and the type to need a plan first. They’ll say ‘runaway with me’ and look at you expectantly while your head and heart battle. They may seem very creative or flamboyant. There’s a sense of home or familiarity too. Not sure how you’re going to get the final cut of this atm, but I definitely picked that up in the first deck I used. “Your person could look familiar to you— it doesn’t necessarily mean that you know them though for half of you I think you could. I think when you see your person you may have that “Have we met before?” moment.”

Physically you may find their hands very attractive. They could be skilled in a profession where they have to use their hands a lot (mainly for crafting I’m getting this scenario) and could either hand you something or demonstrate something where you’re focused on their hands. Very attractive hands lol, this may make you blush. They could look very athletic. Very confident. They may turn your world upside down (in a freeing way I see).

Notable Characteristics

The most notable thing about your person may be their voice. I’ve made some traits/characteristics and the majority of what I got relates to voice. Some traits you’ve got for voice are: soft, smooth, deep, animated (they may speak in a way that paints a picture), youthful/high(er)-pitched voice

Their face shape could be round or oval. They could have wavy/shoulder-length hair or no hair at all. If they wear facial hair, it’d be a beard. Their nose could be upturned or described as aquiline. For eyes, they could be round or have monolids and they may have a unique eye colour. They may have full lips or crooked teeth. Freckles. Tattoos. They may look ethereal or be a boho/laid-back and/or vintage style.

You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights.

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #pick a picture #pick a picture reading #tarotblr #free reading tarot #future spouse #free tarot

[vampiresbloodx]

(a series or more of a au between you and librarian!Wanda. Legal age gap, mentions of smut, soft fluff, pinning, lots of pinning, I usually don't write any specific gender for reader ((same goes with physical appearance, but I will slip up sometimes and I apologise)) though sometimes I might mention their clothes, if it may be a skirt, pants etc. And if it's smut I'll always tag it.)

After older!Librarian!Wanda kisses you for the first time, she can't stop thinking about your lips.

How perfect they feel against hers, how she forgets about everything around her and only just focuses on you. She never really enjoyed the way her ex husband kissed her, it wasn't all that pleasant. He was a bit forced, quick, Wanda wanted more than that, even if you're going to work, a quick kiss can still mean something so much more. She was a romantic. She likes to paint the scenes in her head on an empty canvas of what she really wanted him to do at the time, but he wasn't that type of man. It saddened her.

Maybe he too was too caught up in the traditional ways. So was she. After kissing you though, all of that went away pretty quickly, she thought about you non stop, always having to touch you, whether that was a hand on your arm, shoulder, etc, pulling you close to her, she was always a touchy person, once you get to really know her.

She was obsessed with how your touch made her feel, the tingles she got, the sensation of merely just a brushing of the fingers when she passed you something, a book, a cup of tea or coffee, whatever it may be, set her heart off. She surely thought she was going to have a heart attack.

No man could ever make her feel the way you do.

It was truly something magical.

When you'd touch her back, giving her the same attention, knowing she'd want it but would be a bit shy at first to ask you, but it seems you'd know what she wants. It's like this non spoken communication between you two. It was special. She's never had that. Where someone just gets her, you haven't even known her for that long, but it felt like you both had known each other for years.

She understands what people meant by those special connections.

And she doesn't take any of it for granted.

Older!Librarian!Wanda is so precious and caring, loving towards you. She likes to bring you things she finds interesting that you might like, if that was a book or something else, she takes your interests very seriously too, even if she doesn't quite understand them as she grew up very differently. But she loves how excited you get whenever she asks you about it, it makes her happy, she also learns something new she didn't know. Which she likes. She does like to joke around with you, have that little banter as they like to call it, you've even taught her some newer things that may be trendy or help her understand it more. It's nice. Because she'll do the same for you.

After she learns what fidget toys are and whatever helps distract you, keeps you focused, whatever it may be you'll have plenty of it. If you forget a specific fidget toy while you're both out, Wanda has the exact same one in her bag, anything you need she has it. Since she knows you get stressed a lot, especially when there's a lot of people, it can get a bit too much, she gets it sometimes, how overwhelming it is, people being in your face and in your personal space, but when you feel her hand squeeze yours, you feel much more relaxed knowing she's there by your side.

#Liberian!wanda #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fluff #stuff i wrote

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #4

CH4. 0800-Awkward | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Eddie’s van was cleaner than you expected and it smelled like mint gum and coffee. There were sheets of paper on the passenger seat he cleared for you with quick hands, boyish scrawls of ink noting down recipes and ingredients, a page of music in between. 

Music blared from the radio when Eddie turned on the engine and he scowled at the noise, bashing the button to turn it off so you were both squished between awkward silence instead. You put your hands on your lap, sitting up too straight, throat tight. 

The quiet enveloped you both. 

“Where am I takin’ you?” Eddie asked gruffly once he turned out of the parking lot. The rain was still bouncing off the roads, the sky dark and angry, navy coloured clouds blocking out all the light. “You live near Robin, right?”

You nodded, pulling at your knuckles until you gave in and picked at a nail, nervousness clawing at you like a persistent puppy. The boy beside you made your stomach tumble, and you weren’t quite sure why yet. “Yeah, just off fourth and Maple,” you told him. “But you can drop me off at the pharmacy, it’s only, like, a ten minute walk from there.”

Eddie scoffed at your suggestion, like he’d do no such thing, but he didn’t say anything else. So you spoke instead, your heart in your dry mouth, watching the boy’s profile, wondering how someone so pretty could be so damn mad all the time. Was it just you?

“So, uh, is Wayne your dad?”

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off the road, he just stepped on the accelerator a little too hard when the lights changed from amber to green. When the engine stopped yelling, he answered. “He’s my uncle.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. Something told you that asking anything about Eddie’s father would result in a very quiet, very tense ride back to your apartment. “He’s real sweet— your uncle. He’s been super nice to me.”

“Wayne’s nice to everyone,” Eddie replied shortly and it hurt like a kick to the stomach. 

The breath left you and you deflated, just a little. The skin around your thumb was becoming raw from your picking. You couldn’t help it, even if you muttered it as you looked out the window. “Clearly it’s not a family trait.”

“What?” Eddie’s voice was all surprise, even the van juddered as he pressed on the brakes a little too hard. You glanced over at him, chin ducked down, fingers torturing the ones on your other hand. Eddie was all raised brows and parted lips, an almost curl of amusement on them. “What did you say?”

It was a dare, a challenge. A ‘go on, say that again. Are you brave enough?’  

You glared at him, just like he loved to do to you so often. “I said, clearly, it’s not a family trait.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie laughed, a rough bark that told you he didn’t actually find you funny at all. 

You were a built up dam, spilling over the top with a new job, new friends, a new apartment in a new town. It was scary. It had been hard. 

You burst. 

“You’re so mean to me,” you told him hotly, “all the time! And then you apologise, only for it to last until the end of your shift. I know I’m not like, the best waitress— I mean, I’m hardly Nancy, but I’m trying! I— I haven’t done anything to you.” You sniffed, you wobbled. Tears threatened you both and your voice came out a little higher now. “Have I? If I have, I didn’t mean to.”

You dragged a hand over your face and when you looked back to the boy, Eddie looked horrified. He was pink in the face, eyes darting from you to the road and back again, his finger curling around the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip. He didn’t say anything. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you muttered to your lap and when Eddie slowed to the next stop sign, you flung a hand onto the door handle. “Just drop me here.”

The sound of the rain slapping the pavement only grew louder when you managed to open the door a crack and it seemed to spur Eddie into action. He leaned over you and grabbed at your hand, using it to pull the door shut again. It snapped back into place and Eddie was scowling when you swore at him in return. “Fucking Christ, woman,” he huffed. “I’m takin’ you home, alright? You’ll drown out there.”

“It’s a bit of rain, Eddie,” you snapped. “I lived in Chicago, I’ll survive some water.” Your ferocity was short lived, because you gave in with a huff, eyes watering once more as you pressed yourself against the seat and crossed your arms in defeat. 

There was a voice in your head, someone from an old job, an old classmate in middle school, your mom. It didn’t matter who, they were all cruel. Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby. 

“Can you just - fuck - can you just let me talk?” 

You watched as Eddie licked his lips, maybe out of nerves and he gripped the steering wheel harder still. You thought he’d maybe yell at you, maybe he’d tell you exactly why he was so hot and cold with you, maybe he’d explain in detail why you’d managed to piss him off. 

Instead, he asked, “why’d you leave Chicago?”

You stared at him. Was he joking? Was he playing some kind of weird joke? But Eddie waited, his face a pretty picture of sincerity and he glanced at you from the road as often as safety would let him. 

“Uh, I didn’t like it,” you scrunched your face at the memory, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Too big, too loud. I don’t really—” you searched for the right word, one that wouldn’t make you sound weak and small. “I don’t enjoy big cities. They’re too much.”

Eddie nodded and suddenly, suddenly, you were having a conversation with him. “I get that. My mom moved to Philadelphia, I don’t see her much, but I used to visit when I was a kid. Hated that no matter what time of night it was, it was never quiet - or dark - fuckin’ lights everywhere.”

There was a silence before you pressed your lips together and hummed. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You could never see the stars in Chicago. I missed that.” 

The rain was letting up now, nothing more than a horrible drizzle that you knew would still soak you to the bone, but it was quieter. Softer. The sky turned lilac, a hazy kind of purple blue as the sun tried to break through. 

“Where did you grow up?” Eddie peered through his curls at you, his fingers unfurling from the death grip he had on the wheel. He turned down Main Street, one hand in his lap, his head leaning back against the chair. “I know it wasn’t here - would’ve remembered you.”

“Fortville,” you told him, wondering if you just kept talking, your heart would stop racing at what he’d just said to you. “With my parents. It was a tiny place, not much there, probably even smaller than Hawkins and we had chickens and a dog my mom rescued just before I was born. I liked it though, it was a nice place to grow up.”

“Why’d you leave?”

You shrugged, turned to look out the window at the spots of rain on the glass, the kaleidoscope of colours they made now the sun shone through them. “Dad left, found another family. Mom turned mean.” You didn’t elaborate more than that and Eddie noticed how your voice turned softer, even quieter. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie answered and you couldn’t help but notice that when he wasn’t frowning, when the lines between his brows were gone, his eyes were the colour of dark chocolate, big and earnest looking. “I can, uh, relate. Kinda.”

A comfortable silence passed after that, one that came with the break of the clouds, dark shadows giving way to a late evening sunset, turning the wet sidewalks golden. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you, quick flickers of his eyes that went from your face to where your fingers were picking at your nails on your lap. 

“You haven’t— you haven’t done anything to me,” Eddie murmured. You looked up at the sound of his voice, nails forgotten about and you saw that flush on his cheeks rise over his nose, turning it pink. He licked his lips and you tracked the movement, feeling the nerves roll off of him and fill the space between you. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t, I didn’t mean to be… mean.”

Eddie parked the van and you blinked, not even realising that he’d stopped on your street. Your apartment building was just a little down the road, waiting. 

“You lied to me when I came in that day,” you squinted at the boy, both of you cringing at the memory of Eddie pretending that he wasn’t who he was. That he wasn’t who you were looking for. “Why? Why did you do that?”

Eddie turned a deeper shade of pink, cheeks burning and he fumbled over his words before he swallowed harshly and turned towards you in his seat. He tugged at his curls, unsure what to do with his hands now he didn’t have the wheel to grip. “I’m, shit, I’m sorry ‘bout that. That was— that was just. Stupid.”

You nodded, looking at him with sad eyes that seemed to make his brow knit together in despair. 

“I don’t, uh, I don’t do well with like, making friends?” Eddie offered an explanation that he didn’t seem to be able to admit easily. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to smile at you, tried to ease the feeling of guilt that was swarming him. “I get stuck in my ways, y’know? I just go to work, go home, go back to work— new things—” Eddie glanced over at you with those big eyes. “—new people, make me kinda, nervous. I guess.”

You let your gaze settle on his, watching as he took in a breath and blinked. He looked a little dizzy, his confession making the air a little lighter. But something else lingered. It felt like glitter, a sparkling, pretty thing that swirled in the front space of the van. It was hopeful. 

“I get nervous too. Shy,” you admitted. You felt nervous now, tummy tumbling, a whole aviary loose inside. “About a lot of things.” About you, is what you didn’t say. “But I’m not a dick about it.”

 Eddie snorted and the sound made your lip quirk up, an almost smile. Eddie nodded, like he was agreeing with your passive insult, his lips twisting as he looked you over once more. His gaze was warmer than you’d seen it before, no furrow between his brow to make you wonder if he was pissed at you. Now he just looked… interested.

“You’re right,” he announced. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry.”

“You said sorry earlier,” you reminded him. “With breakfast. But then you were a dick all over again. This hot and cold is making my head hurt.” You fiddled with the hem of your uniform dress, lifting powder blue away from your knee to pick at a loose thread. 

“I did, didn’t I?” The boy let his head fall back onto the window, a dull thud, curls sticking to the glass that was all fogged up from you both sitting talking. The setting sun made him golden, peach coloured cheeks and honey eyes, all bronze shadows and inky lines over his arms, peeking out from his T-shirt. “Was it good? Your breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes and Eddie grinned, truly, he beamed at you. It was a flirtatious thing, a pretty thing - it made your heart pick up and your breath catch in your throat because it was so fucking unexpected. 

“Yes, it was good,” you murmured, back to shy, back to dipping your chin and not really being able to look him in the eye. “But that’s not the point.”

“You’re right,” he said again. The boy seemed so much more agreeable out of his chef whites, without the heat and the noise and the constant sizzle of the kitchen. “I really am sorry - I hate, fuck, I hate that I didn’t make you feel welcome. That was shitty of me.”

You sniffed, pulled the thread loose and watched baby blue spring and curl around your finger. “It was.”

Eddie looked hopeful when you finally found the courage to meet his gaze again. He gave you a slow shrug, a half smile that still didn’t look fully sure. But he tried anyway.. “Can we start again?” He moved, shifting closer to you, close enough that the stick shift was pressing against the slight pudge of his tummy and you could smell his cologne, could see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. He held out his hand for you, silver rings and all. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

He waited with wide eyes for you to reach out too, to slip your hand into his and curl your fingers around his palm. He did the same, engulfing you. His hands were much warmer, wider, bigger. Calloused and with silver scars, no doubt from too sharp knives. 

“It’s nice to meet you.”

—————

You burst through the kitchen doors just as you broke. A burn in the corner of your eyes, a hollow thud in your chest as the adrenaline of being yelled at surged through you. A family with too many kids to keep track of, a plate of fries on the floor before you could bring out every meal, a stressed out mother who took out her frustration on you and the fact you’d forgotten the soda one of the small boys was yelling about. She was sharp about it, loud enough for the other customers to hear and you watched as Robin frowned from the booth she was serving. 

She grabbed your elbow as you passed, feet threatening to stumble with how quick you moved, cheeks hot, throat tight. “I’ll get it,” she whispered. “Take a minute.”

But you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak before you could suck in a breath. “S’fine. It’s fine. I’ll fix it.” 

So you let the kitchen door hit the wall as you almost ran in, eyes blinking back tears of embarrassment and the noise was enough for Eddie to look up from the grill where he was flipping burgers. He frowned at the sight of you, but this time, he looked concerned. You rushed past him to grab the glass of soda that was sitting forgotten on a tray - next to the extra basket of fries the woman had requested, fuck - and turned on your heel to go back out the way you came. 

“Hey,” Eddie called after you, “what’s wrong?”

You brushed him away with a raised hand, the other holding the tray of missed items and you didn’t trust yourself to look back at the boy as you rushed back out the door. You sniffed and blinked before you put on a smile, approaching the woman who’d loudly berated you in front of the entire diner. 

“I’m so sorry again,” you whispered as you placed the drink and fries on the messy table. One of the kids screamed and you flinched, trying your best to keep the smile on your face as the woman turned to you. “If there’s anything else I can get you, ju—”

“If there’s anything else I need, I’ll get it myself,” she scoffed meanly. Her voice was too sharp, still too loud, a biting thing that dug into your arm and wouldn’t let go. “You got a pretty face, honey, but that’s not gonna get you far. Can hear that empty space in that head from all the way over here.”

You blinked again, uncaring that a tear slipped out, a hot drip of water down one cheek. You kept smiling. In fact, you smiled all the way back into the kitchen before your breath stuttered and your face crumpled. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon.” Eddie. At your side, a hand catching your elbow, fingertips grazing your skin like he was still too unsure to hold you fully. “C’mere. It’s fine.”

He led you through the kitchen, hand guiding you so your blurry eyes didn’t lead you into the corner of a station. There was something spicy cooking in a pan, garlic and chilli and soy that Argyle took over stirring as Eddie left it alone in favour of you. Jim must’ve heard the commotion in the dining room, ‘cause he made a rare appearance outside of his office, hand holding onto the door frame as he leaned out, frowning at what he saw. 

“Chicago,” he called through the kitchen, voice booming over the radio, the sizzle of the grill, the drone of the vents. “You good? You wanna talk?”

You turned, bumping into Eddie’s side and shaking your head, all whilst trying to smile and appear like you were absolutely fine. Totally normal. Definitely not crying like a baby. You cringed, turning back around and ducking your chin to hide your glossy eyes, your wet cheeks. 

“S’fine, Jim,” Eddie called back. “I’ve got her. Jus’ give us five minutes.”

“Munson, you got burgers on!” Your boss called back, you heard him sigh and Argyle told him that he’d manage. 

“Five minutes!” Eddie said again, his voice sharper and louder than before and you were moving faster to the back door, bypassing the walk in altogether. 

“If they burn, that’s too much money to get thrown in the trash, Eddie,” Hopper complained. “That’s prime fuckin’ beef from the Sinclairs, Eddie and I don’t got time to get Lucas back out for another delivery— hey! Are you listen—”  

Eddie ushered you out of the fire exit, blue skies and too bright light making you squint, a rush of hot air that was heavier than the kitchen, muggy and smelling like cut grass and the smoke that came from the vent on the wall. The door snapped shut before Jim could finish talking. 

The silence was a warm thing, cloying like the summer afternoon, the edge of a heatwave, the steam from the kitchen that lingered in the small alleyway out back. You brought the heels of your palms to your eyes, pushing there meanly as you sniffed a little wetly and tried to stop your bottom lip from trembling. If you faced the crumbling wall, maybe you could pretend Eddie wasn’t there, watching you. 

“Hey, c’mon.”

You groaned. 

“C’mon,” Eddie coaxed again, his hand pulling at your wrist, urging you to stop hiding. “You gotta stop letting customers get you all upset like this. ‘Specially the ones that are utter assholes.”

“You heard her?” You asked weakly, embarrassment crawling up your neck. You knew he would’ve, shit, Wayne probably heard it all the way down the street. Of course Eddie heard it from the kitchen. “God, that’s so—” you let out a small groan of anger, a soft wail that was tinged with a little shame.

“No, no, stop that,” Eddie frowned as you buried your face in your hands once more. He got you by your shoulders, palms and fingers curling over the bone there, impossibly wide, engulfing. You turned soft for him, letting him manhandle you until you were facing him, brows crinkled, your cheeks warm. “She was a bitch. You’re okay, it’s alright.”

You sucked in another breath, one of those awful ones that hitched and made your throat close up a little. It was hard to look into Eddie’s eyes. They were big and warm and earnest, crazily so, the colour of burnt honey and he was painfully close. The alleyway pushed you both together, space limited between the walls, the empty pallets, the stacked up crates. 

“She was out of order, yeah?” Eddie continued softly, his thumb pushing softly into the meat of your shoulder, drawing circles through your uniform. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all just human here, Chicago. It’s fine.”

You nodded, numb. Tears still stained your hot cheeks, salt gathering in the corners of your mouth and you felt embarrassed at the reaction, the white hot rush of anxiety that gripped the back of your neck as soon as someone raised their voice at you. You blinked again, feeling heavy, another fresh wave of tears making your vision turn into kaleidoscopes. You scrunched your face, annoyed with yourself, head tilting back to the strip of blue sky you could see between the buildings roofs. 

“God, I’m so fucking lame,” you groaned. “So stupid.”

You brought your chin back down to just catch the boy smiling, a dopey, soft thing that made you think he was gonna laugh at you. He did, but it wasn’t mean. In fact, Eddie’s laugh was a damn pretty thing. Scratchy and raspy and warm, enough to make you stop screwing your face up and blink at him. 

“You’re not lame,” he told you firmly. He dropped his hands from your shoulders now that you weren’t intent on hiding. You found you missed the weight of them on you, a grounding feeling that helped the tears subside. “Or stupid. Shit, kid, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I’m always forgetting stuff though,” you argued. The sun was a blazing thing above you both, hot on your head, your shoulders, the back of your neck. Your uniform itched under the heat and you were backing away into the shadows along the line of the diner wall. Eddie followed, shoulder to shoulder as he leaned against the brick, lounging enough to bring him to the same height as you. “I’m messing up orders and I keep walking into the same stupid table - even though it’s always there! I got a bruise on my hip the size of a fucking peach,” you grumbled unhappily. 

Eddie snorted at hearing you swear, a cannonball of a word coming out of your sweet mouth, usually talking softly and shyly at him and customers. He knocked your shoulder with his and tutted. “You’re still new,” he shrugged when you scoffed. You’d been at the diner for almost two months. “Get out of here with that, you are. You’re in a new town and a new job. Give yourself a break.”

“I’m just— god.” You bit down on your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m such a crybaby, I hate it. I must look like such a mess.” Your eyes felt sore, your cheeks puffy and warm, all too familiar and just as embarrassing as it was when you were ten, fifteen, twenty years old. 

Eddie just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his chef whites. He looked at your face, just for a second, before ducking his chin and studying the concrete below his feet. “Nah,” he said quietly, “you look pretty like always.”

It was quiet for a second or two, the surprise on your face morphing into a crooked smile, a quirk of one corner of your lips at the boy’s words. You sniffed and laughed a little watery, a shy sounding thing that made Eddie blink at you. “You’re being nice to me,” you told him.  

He grinned like he couldn’t help himself, a sharp, sudden thing that made his face look even prettier. Curls spilled from his poorly tied bun and his cheeks went rose coloured, more blush than flushed from the heat. He knitted his brows together in faux confusion, tried to act too cool, too blasé. “I am, aren’t I?” He huffed. “Weird.”

You shoved at him in jest, your hand on his shoulder and he barely even budged. But you felt a thrill in touching him, your hand just by the muscles in his arm, where you knew a tattoo lay, curling around a bicep that you couldn’t see under his uniform. It was easy to joke like this, to smile and wipe your eyes one last time when Eddie was playing nice. 

You felt like a teen with a crush, that lovesick, giddy type of softness settling in your chest and it purred when you looked at the boy. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But Eddie got prettier when he smiled at you and when he reached out to straighten the pen that was about to call out of your chest pocket, you were done. A goner. 

You wanted to ask if this made you friends. 

Instead, you swallowed your embarrassment and hoped you hadn’t been staring. “Thank you,” you murmured shyly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Eddie pulled open the fire exit and waited for you to enter first, holding open the door as the noise of the diner flooded back out to you. Kids yelling, the grill popping, the coffee machine whirring. 

“Would you rather Jim gave you one of his famous three minute counselling sessions?” Eddie winced theatrically. “I haven’t had one myself, but rumour has it there’s a stress ball and some talk about toughening up and how the world just ain’t fair.”

You laughed, walking back into the kitchen with Eddie by your side. Your shoulder brushed against his arm and you shook your head, looking up at him with a heat in your cheeks you were sure he’d be able to notice. “No, m’glad it was you.”

You must’ve surprised the boy, because he blinked as he stopped at the grill. Argyle had flipped all the patties and left the spatula by the countertop but Eddie didn’t take his eyes off of you as he grasped it. You watched his brows lift a little, mouth parting before he closed it again and nodded, looking a little numb. 

And then: “cool. Yeah, no, good. Come get me next time too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #linecook!eddie

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

[finelinevogue]

you’re okay

summary - you’re anxious but harry will always be there

a/n: im so nervous about hslot tomorrow so i thought i’d write this <333

“There he is!”

An encore of cheers for Harry fill the room as he runs in all sweaty, taking a short ten minute break before his encore.

His all black outfit is something to make you melt from how hot he is. You don’t even think he actually understands how gorgeous he looks right now. His hair is disheveled from running around on stage and his clothes are sticky with sweat.

You want to go up to him and give him a hug and a kiss for the show so far, but your anxiety roots you to the sofa.

You don’t even think you have anything to really be anxious for, but sometimes your nerves and shakes come over you when you least expect them. Your chest feels like it’s hollowing and your stomach feels like it’s swimming with butterflies. They’re both horrible feelings and you can’t seem to stop them. The shake in your hands in your only tell, to other people, as well as your bouncing knee.

Harry hugs a couple of people and he’s passed a water bottle by Brad. He guzzles it down quick and thanks him afterwards.

He then spots you, sitting in the plush velvet couch that he brings on tour with him. A sofa you both picked out together and Harry can’t be apart from.

Harry is quick to crouch down in front of you, putting a ring-filled hand on your knee to control the nervous tremors.

“Baby, what’s got you all anxious?” He asks softly, trying to keep his volume low so people don’t start to listen in.

“I don’t know.” You say, teary eyed slightly. “No. I’m fine, i’m fine.” You shake your head defiantly, convincing yourself more than Harry.

“It would be okay if you weren’t fine, you know?”

You nod your head and notice your foot now bobbing away because your knee couldn’t.

Harry keeps his focus on you. He doesn’t deter for anyone or anything.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You begun shaking your head instead and look down at where your fingers are fiddling with each other. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to think of ways to keep your tears back.

“I don’t need an apology, baby. If you need to apologise to anyone, it’s yourself, because you should be kinder to yourself.”

He moves in a little further towards you, using another hand to cup over your smaller ones. He holds onto you tight, grounding you.

“Sorry.” You barely whisper.

“I have to give fifteen more minutes of myself to all those people out there and then i’m completely yours for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Completely?” You look at him with hopeful eyes.

Normally Harry is busy whisked away to complete various business tasks or music recordings after his shows, but his words carry hope that it’s just you and him tonight.

“Absolutely. We can do whatever you want. The Harry Potter movies are on Netflix now, we could do a marathon? Or just watch ‘Goblet of Fire’? I won’t even get jealous when you fawn over Cedric.” He giggles and you can’t help but give a small laugh back.

You take the time to notice your hands have stopped twitching now, thanks to his, and your leg bounces are a lot calmer.

“Can we get a Dominoes takeaway too?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to call it in now, so it’ll be ready for us at 10:30, okay?” He squeezes your hands for reassurance. “Just promise me you’ll be okay for another 15 minutes. I’ll be as quick as possible.”

“I promise. I feel better now anyway.” You smile genuinely.

“Good.” He leans over to kiss your hands softly.

“H? We need you back now.” A member of the crew calls for him across the room.

“Go be brilliant.” You tell him.

“Go be brave.” He replies.

He stands up and leans over to kiss you, promising a proper kiss when he returns. For now you just enjoy a little kiss with your sweaty boyfriend.

He kisses the top of your head before turning to leave the room, screaming as he leaves; “I love you Y/N!”

All because of Harry does your anxiety slowly disappear and the warmth spreads over your heart once more.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles love on tour #love on tour #love in tour edinburgh

[arsenalfanf1]

Maxiel x reader perhapss? If u are open to threesome ofc‼️

Masterlist

Warnings Threesome, smut 18+ talking about getting pregnant, wrap before you tap,

Never written a threesome before.

It’s a long one so buckle up.

“Fuck” you wondered how you got into the situation, having another organsm, you were so tired at this point.

Let’s bring it back a couple hours ago.

It was some sort of event, Max had invited you as his plus one, you were wearing blue lingerie his favourite colour paired with a black dress and high heels.

“Wow you look amazing” he said as soon as you opened the door “Thank you” you were blushing.

The car journey was only about 15 minutes, you just talked about your day, but couldn’t help but feel his hand very high up your thigh.

There was lots of flashing lights when you came out the car all wanting to see and speak to your boyfriend, but he just muttered a few hi hello and walked in with you in front of him holding your hand.

You had got introduced to his team. “Max!” Someone shouted, followed by Daniel, you had never met Daniel but heard a lot about him “Wow who is this?” He asked staring straight at you “This is my girlfriend” Max replied “ohhh…. Well I’m Daniel is great to meet you” he said sticking his hand out “y/n nice to meet you” you replied shaking his hand.

After a little more conversation, it was time for the food, you weren’t too sure what it was something with fish and some champagne.

“I can feel your hand you know” you whispered his hand had gotten higher and higher as dinner went on “Not my fault, you look incredible like that” he replied “I’ve got your favourite colour on underneath, blue” you replied without any warning he stood up grabbed your hand apologising that you felt suddenly unwell and that he was going up to the room.

Once you were out the event you asked “What room?”

“It was meant to be a surprise, we were meant to be staying at the penthouse” he replied back “I had planned how this night would end, just didn’t expect it to be so early” he added

Once you were in the lift he started kissing your lips, moving down to your collarbone “I can’t wait to fuck you” he said, suddenly the lift doors opened breaking you two apart quickly, but not quick enough.

“Wow sure looks unwell” Daniel said laughing, you went red out of embarrassment “How did you know” Max asked “Your not as slick as you look Max, I saw your hands the whole night, couldn’t keep them to yourself” he said while laughing. Fuck you were fairly caught.

Max quickly turned Daniel around, you only heard whispers, the space may have been small but they were good at whispering.

Suddenly turned back around, Daniel walked straight to you and started to kiss you, you stood in shock for a couple seconds before pushing him off “What the fuck” you asked so confused on what was going on. “I thought Daniel could join us” Max replied, oh you were shocked, you never expected this from Max, before you could say anything he began to kiss you again, and you kissed him back, before feeling Max lips on your shoulder.

Soon enough you were at the penthouse, Max fishing around in his pockets finding the key, you went straight to the bedroom, quickly getting a look at the view and wow but that wasn’t the point.

Daniel had been undoing your dress the minute you stepped into the room so by the time you got into the bedroom it was down at your heels.

Just as you were about to take your heels off Max stopped you “Keep them on”

“Fuck you look even better with the dress off” Daniel said “Blue my favourite colour” Max added. You never expected the situation.

You moved onto the bed slowly taking on your underwear “You both see wearing too much clothes” you said, it was true they had all their clothes in while you were practically naked.

If there was a competition on who could take there clothes off the faster they would have won. Daniel came over to you first where he started kissing you before finding your nipples where he started to play with them making them hard, you weren’t sure where Max had went to but you weren’t wasting any time.

“Let me suck your dick” you said to Daniel, he was already hard so that was easy. You took his dick out his pants before you started to rub his dick up and down before putting him in your mouth, he was long and thick, perfect you thought.

You tried to take as much of him as you could, you played with the parts you could fit, he had his hands holding your hair up, letting you take control.

Suddenly you felt Max behind you “Your taking him so well” he said “Let me take care of you” he said before taking down your thong before starting to play with your pussy, making you wet first before sticking two fingers in your pussy thrusting them in and out slowly as first before getting faster.

Suddenly Daniel grabbed your hair, forcing you down on his dick taking all of him holding it for a few seconds before letting you go. “You take me so good, Max you are lucky” Daniel said giving him a high five. Daniel took control again face fucking you before letting you know he was going to cum.

At this point you were close to your release and Max knew that, he got faster “Cum over my fingers, fill them with your juices” Max said which make cum, followed by Daniel cumming down your throat.

You got turned around and saw Max handing Daniel a condom knowing what was coming. Max stood in front of you “Suck me off” he demanded, you quickly took him in your mouth, he was smaller than Daniel, he was the perfect size, you had gotten use to his size, which meant you were able to take all of him without gagging. Oh how you loved his cock.

Soon enough you felt Daniel lined up “You ready?” He asked, you came a nod not able to speak, he slowly pushed into letting out a moan, he was too big, you were uncomfortable which he knew which is why he came you time to get use to it before he started moving starting slowly before getting quicker, making to hit your g spot.

You tried your best to focus on sucking off your boyfriend, but boy was it hard, you were moaning like crazy.

“You are so tight, don’t know how Max can leave you, if I was him I would never leave you or this tight pussy” Daniel said, making you tighten round his dick even more. “Fuck if you keep doing that I won’t last” he added

Soon enough Max had cummed down your throat. While both you and Daniel had cummed.

“Hope your not too tired princess it’s my turn in that pussy” Max said, you might have been tired but you were always ready for him. “I’m going to go” Daniel said “Better get back down to dinner” he added before thanking both you and Max before saying his goodbyes.

“I have you all to myself now” Max said once Daniel had left. “Use it wisely” you replied before feeling him sliding into you. “Fuck you look so pretty all tired out”

He felt amazing “it’s amazing how tight you always are” he said mocking “Clearly not getting fucked enough” you joked, suddenly Max pulled out before pushing right back in turning you into a moaning mess “Look at you acting like this over my dick” he said

You were both chasing your highs “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked “Pussy, fill me up, get me pregnant” you said “Fuck you would look amazing with my kid, you would look so hot with a bump, everyone knows you were a whore who let me get her pregnant” You had the talked before agreeing you wanted kids so it was no surprise you were acting like this “Always a whore for my dick”

Soon enough you felt his warm cum fill you, which triggered your release. Max stayed in you “Got to keep you filled up, get you pregnant” he said

Soon enough he pulled out of you not happy about it before telling you to stay place that he was going to make you a bath.

Fuck you thought. This night definitely wouldn’t be forgotten about.

Tags

@topgunmav1df1

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula one #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo #Daniel ricciardo imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #smut

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just for fun ✨🌸

Summary; Eddie only fucks you for fun, you're just an outlet for him or so you think. You're proven wrong.

Warnings; Minors dni, 18+, bit of angst,smut.

❤️ Wrote this quickly last night, I apologise if it has any spelling mistakes, etc ❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.✨❤️

❤️

Eddie comes over to yours for sex, its a rough and passionate like every other time he comes to see you.

He does this a lot, usually every night if he can or he sneaks you into his trailer when his uncle is at work.

It doesn't matter that he has a girlfriend he says, her pussy doesn't clench around my dick like yours, he tells you, in fact they rarely have much sex at all.

They have an open relationship he tells you one night while your sated in his arms and he's just about to leave.

"I can't get enough of you sweetheart, you feel so fucking good"

He's using you and you know it but he makes you feel so good, even though your heart aches for something more.

Something you know you won't ever get. So you put a smile on your face and pretend everything is okay because it is. You're fine with this being all you are.

Totally fine.

❤️

Derek asks you out, he's a co-worker of yours, since you and Eddie are just a sex you figure that fine.

Plus he has... Whatever the hell is going on with Chrissy so you figure you can have someone too.

Derek is nice, polite, helpful and kind. When Eddie knocks at your door that night because you haven't shown up for your time with him, it's your mother that answers as she has brought around a casserole dish for you.

"Honey, Eddie is here" she knows Eddie, everyone knows Eddie in this town due to his reputation, the don't fuck with me attitude that you know hides a soft side.

It exists, you've seen it. Even if Eddie doesn't like to admit it.

"You're late" he whispers to you as you smooth down your dress, his eyes darken deliciously as his takes in your outfit.

"I'm not late, I wasn't coming. I have a date tonight" his expression mirrors shock, then something else, something you can't place.

"Why am I just hearing of this now?" he growls and you give him an annoyed look.

"His name is Derek, I don't know why you're so bothered. You have Chrissy don't you? why can't I have someone?"

His eyes flash, he's about to say something when Derek shows up to the door, with flowers.

You turn to Eddie and say to him quietly.

"I have feelings Eddie, I'm not just some sex toy for you to use when you feel like it" your eyes shine with tears and you blink them away quickly then turn to Derek smiling and take his arm heading outside.

❤️

The date is nice. Shit there's that word again, nice. Derek is lovely but there's no spark no matter how much you want there to be.

Eddie ends up at the Diner that Derek takes you to and you can practically feel his eyes burn holes into you Derek, he's tense and barely pays attention to what his friend says.

You sigh having enough of his jealousy? Or whatever is wrong with him and ask Derek to take you home.

He gives you a kiss when he takes you home and it's chaste and sweet, both of you however seem to realise that there's no heat between the two of you.

With a quick good night you're back in your house and relief washes over you. With no time at all you strip down to your underwear, wipe of the small bit of make up you have on and get changed into your pjs.

Just as you are about to relax you hear a knock on your door and answer it. You know it will be Eddie.

He comes in, his hair in a messy bun, stubble coating his jaw, eyes still full of irritation. He looks sexy as hell if you're being honest.

"How was your date?" you roll your eyes at the obvious jealousy emenating from him.

"Oh, fine. He fucked me then left. You just missed him" you say sarcastically and if it's possible Eddie's brown eyes darken even more.

"I'm kidding" you tell him and he takes off his jacket.

"Don't, I... I can't stand the thought of you with anyone else" you raise an eyebrow and walk towards him.

"Why? Why are you so jealous?" he doesn't even deny that he is.

"Because you're mine" he murmurs then kisses you, it's not long before he has you up in your bedroom and on your bed fucking into you.

His lips and teeth tease over you breasts, your neck as he thrusts into you powerful. The pleasure is so unreal, so intense that you come fast, clenching around him and crying out his name.

"You think that asshole could pleasure you like this huh?" he asks you and you shake your head as his lips press to yours.

"You're mine" he groans out and you agree with him, on the edge of your second orgasm, it's so close and Eddie's movements grow more erratic and he soon finds his relief and he comes, spilling into you.

His guttural groans fade into a soft moan as he kisses over your cheeks, then to your mouth. It's gentle, tender.

"You have Chrissy" you say softly and it makes your heart tug painfully.

He shakes his head. "No. We're done. For good. It happened a few nights ago. Tried to tell you but you've been a little bit awol princess". Oh.

He strokes your hair as he continues speaking.

"Chrissy and I are much, much better as friends sweetheart, just friends, much better. We both agreed with that and she's met a guy called Danny, he's a great dude".

"What does it make us, I don't want to share you with anyone Eddie?" he turns to you, kissing you softly, his eyes intent on yours.

"You are mine, only mine. I don't share you ever, I don't want to be with anyone else. I'm yours, only yours"

You liked the sound of that very much.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #jealous eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader

[cy6err]

Whoops — W.S.

Pairings: Walker Scobell x Actress!Reader

Warnings: kissing ? (On the cheek)

Summary: Your boyfriend Walker made a mistake whilst you were on live…

A/N: I kind of don’t like this one 🥸 but this is a part 2 of first look! (check that one out first if you want, but it’s not required to.) also, this is awfully short and I apologise for it 🙏🏻

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

It had been a few months since you and Walker have been together for, but you two kept it on the down low. The people who knew were Aryan and Leah (of course), and they too kept it a secret. The only reason was because you and Walker didn’t want to try and start a whole bunch of chaos within the fandom about your guys’ relationship.

Knowing how the fans are, you both decided to not reveal anything between you two— Other than the light flirting and glances you give each other during small videos uploaded by your friends. It was nice having him as your boyfriend… texting and calling each other every day, unless he’s busy with work or school obviously.

He would also call you during his live streams with Brady Noon— but you stayed in mute because you didn’t want others to hear you talking, you just wanted to be in each other’s presence.

Due to him being busy with work, you barely had time to call or even text him anymore. Yes, he did text you, but they were mostly dry responses. However, he made sure to put an emoji at the end of them so you knew he wasn’t being dry on purpose.

The calls were brief as well, only getting around 10-15 minutes of talking before the, “I’m being called to set and retouch my makeup, I’ll call you later.” Only to find yourself waiting until the moment you fall asleep with no call from him.

He would send an apology text and tell you how much he still cared about you to ease your overthinking. You understood that he was gonna be busy a lot more than usual now that he was filming for PJO season 2.

Sure, keeping the relationship a secret wasn’t all that bad, but it was somewhat hard to take pictures together without making anything obvious (Leah was so kind enough to help you two); So, you posted the ones you found most ‘friendly’ looking.

It had been a normal Saturday when you were home, laying in your bed and rotting in your room. You didn’t need to film until the next month or so, giving you some time to relax after filming for 2 and a half months straight. Your mom was out for the day doing some errands, leaving you home alone for some time.

Walker was also busy today, needing to film for season 2, so he was going to be very distant with you until further notice— which you hated. After contemplating on what to do, you decide to go live for a bit on Instagram and interact with a few fans.

You got up from your bed and set your phone up on your desk next to your window, making sure there was enough light to show yourself clearly. You tap the ‘live’ button and waited a bit for some people to join (which was really quick). You had over 1,009 viewers already and you were pretty shocked at how many people joined the live in under two minutes.

“Hi guys! How are you all doing today?” You greet, smiling widely as you laugh at the flooding comments. Each one being: “are you and Walker dating?” “Where’s Walker?” “Do you and Walker have a thing going on??”

Shaking your head, you deny the comments. “No, we’re just close friends. And he’s doing well, just busy at the moment.” You sat there as you played with a few objects sitting on your desk, answering other questions from them.

You were getting really engrossed with the conversation that you didn’t even realise your mom calling your name until you heard your bedroom door open. “Y/n, you in here?” She asked, peeking her head in your room.

“Oh, hey mom. Sorry, I didn’t hear you because I’m live right now.” You give an apologetic smile, “did you need something?”

Your mom waved to the camera as the comments spammed “hi mrs. L/n!!”

“Just checking up on you, what do you want for dinner?” Your mom asked, moving a strand of hair out of your face.

“Uhh, I’m not sure. Surprise me?”

“Sure,” she laughs, “I’ll call you down in a bit. I invited some friends over and they might spend the night, clean your room please.”

“Okay, are they gonna sleep in here?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm! I’ll let you know when food’s ready.” Your mom then left the room leaving you back to your live.

You turn back to your camera and sigh, “well, unexpected guests I guess… and my room is not that messy!”

“Yeah it is.” A familiar voice said from behind, your head snapping toward the direction. Your eyes lit up with joy when you saw your boyfriend leaning against your doorframe, making you jump up from your seat to hug him.

“Walker! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” You exclaim, embracing him tightly to which he returned with a chuckle.

“Yeah, got some time off for a bit and decided to surprise you. I thought it was obvious when your mom said she was inviting friends over?” Walker said, looking at you with wonder.

“I thought she meant the neighbourhood friends and their children.” You shrug, pulling away but not quite letting go of him.

It was a moment of silence when he finally spoke up in a soft, sweet tone. “I missed you.”

You felt your face get warm and your smile grew, “I missed you too.”

With that, he leaned in for a quick a quick kiss, making you mirror the action until you stopped and looked away, making him kiss your cheek instead. He looked at you confused and a little disappointed, “Why’d you do that?”

“Walker, I’m live. I completely forgot.” You quickly run to your phone, grabbing it as Walker immediately became red from embarrassment. The chat was filled with spamming: “OMG” “THEY’RE DATING!!” “WALKER X Y/N CONFIRMEDD” “MY SHIP HAS SAILED.”

“Im so so sorry, oh my god.” Walker groaned, throwing himself onto the bed as you laugh lightly. “It’s okay, Walker. I guess it’s one way of telling the fandom about our relationship.”

He buried his face into the pillows and ignored you, despite his big smile on his face. You quickly said your goodbyes to the fans and ended the live, joining him in the bed. “We were gonna tell them eventually, right?”

Walker took a peek at you and nods, “yeah. I guess so, I just hope it doesn’t ruin anything.”

You lie down and mess with his curls a bit, “Just ignore them. Being with you is all that matters, you’re my ray of sunshine”

He laughed at your comment, “you’re so corny.” Laughing with him, you got closer until your mom came in the room.

“Foods ready— don’t get too close to each other now.” She says, giving a pointed look making you roll your eyes playfully as she left the room.

“Come on, let’s go eat. Im starving.” You pull at his arm and drag him out of the bed, making him get up.

“Okay, okay!” He grins, kissing your cheek and following you downstairs to eat dinner.

—

(He surprised you with flowers 🤍)

—

HII IM SO SORRY IT WAS SHORT 😔 BUT NONETHELESS, I HOPE YOU LIKED IT :)) it was lowk hard to finish this. feel free to send requests !!

Tag list: @defnot-bri

#fanfic #walker scobell #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy and annabeth #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo fandom #fandom

[six-eyed-samurai]

MODERN DAY LOVER BOY

April Fools Day Special with the JJK Men in Alternate universes!

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who casually tells you he'll give you a free temporary tattoo for "today's promotion for pretty girls", but when you get home and peel off the bandage he's written his number there

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who, once you've made it official, makes you both matching couple tattoos - not necessarily a heart and your initials, but rather the logo of the cafe you guys had your first date at stylized to become the both of you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru whose customers ask him who the woman in his latest art selections are and it's you (he's not afraid to flex about it)

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who rarely had off days because that parlour was his life, but you breathed a new meaning to it and now he closes the store with the money he carefully stored over the months for a quick vacation with you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who just has to look at all the photos or selfies or whatever it was that had caught your eye you constantly bombard his phone with to get inspiration for his next art. He's been called a king at what he does but you were a goddess of art itself.

***

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who spots you in the crowd as he drums, a surprised look in your eyes and upon your once irritated face at how your best friend had dragged you here as he stuns you with his skills

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who secretly hopes you would show up after the show for an autograph, who's over the moon when he discovers the person you're with has backstage passes, if only to meet his bandmate Geto

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who adds in smaller writing his number to the poster you ask him to sign, and in fact gives you an autographed Polaroid of himself for free and with a sly smile while the rest of his fan girls groaned in jealousy

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru whose first date with you is to a karaoke and teaches you drums, showering you with whatever you want with his money - that premium gelato? Sure! VIP room? Why not! Nothing but the best for the true idol in his eyes.

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who from then on always dedicates his songs to a "my pretty muse" that no one knows, except he always engages in eye contact with you

***

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who smoothly, kindly comforts you when you start having doubts about your piercings, assuring you it would only hurt for a moment and he'd never dare to cause suffering to such an angel

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who claims it's a free gift but hands you a box of heart shaped earrings with his number scribbled inside and a nervous ask out to coffee sometime

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who's now the reason you somehow ended up with two more piercings at the top of your ears, him hopefully suggesting you could match with him

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who can't stop blabbering about his beautiful girl to his other customers, leaving them forgetting about the uncomfortable stings and wondering who such a beauty would be

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who gifts you the engagement present in the form of custom designed earrings with both your initials in it, be decked wth your favourite colored gem

***

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who, in his pining stage for you, started spaying a hell lot of red and hearts and Cupid's arrows into his artwork

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who had no idea you were a fan of his work...and was extremely flustered to find out you discovered his not so secret crush on you when you saw the love song quotes spray painted under a painting of someone who looked suspiciously too similar to you

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who helps you sneak out of your bedroom at night after throwing pebbles at your window and both of you run off on skateboards to colour the streets the same bright shades of your teenage love

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who wasn't good at apologising after fights or misunderstandings, so he borrowed others' words to quote and paint somewhere he knew you'd see, with a bouquet of wildflowers left there if you did happen to actually see it in the flesh

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge whose biggest artwork was not the bridge he had covered with slogans last month but in fact, the gigantic canvas of you and him racing into the night with streaks of spray paint exploding behind you

***

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori, the self acclaimed "Myth Buster", who went around to various most haunted places in his hometown to explore and prove that in fact, ghosts DO NOT EXIST, which he kept trying to convince you, his skeptical one-man camera crew, of, although your ongoing bet was that if he could you'd give him a kiss

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who was often requested to do rituals or demon summons to provide evidence for his theories that "ghosts" were just people's imaginations being sparked up by even the most mundane of things by fear, but one of the reasons he really refused was because he didn't want anyone else butting on you and his time - besides, ain't no way was he using you as a sacrifice

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who finally works up the courage to confess that he wanted to take this friendship to higher levels ironically on Halloween...even more ironically after he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the haunted house screaming.

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who declared himself your lucky charm against the supernatural and promises that he'll protect you from whatever came from beyond the grave (he didn't believe it ghosts but sure did in protecting you) and used the excuse to stay over at your house at night

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who tells you in the spookiest way possible to meet him at the latest haunted expedition, but when you get there it's all set up with fairy lights, a movie and a picnic to celebrate your one year anniversary as a couple

#sanzuyaps #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuta x reader #yuta Okkutsu x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x reader #april fool's day #april fool's special

[manicpixiefelix]

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

[russellsppttemplates]

I love love love your work sooooo muchhh. I had a request only if you feel comfortable writing it, if not that’s totally okay 🫶🏼🫶🏼

But it’s dad max who is maybe under a lot of stress and gets interrupted over a call or just trying to do some work by his little one and accidentally snaps but immediately feels so bad

Cw: mentions a little of Max's childhood with his father (from what I know from the internet)

The meetings at RedBull had been keeping Max on his toes, and between interview and photoshoots, combined with a few nights where he couldn't sleep all that well, he was stretched to the maximum.

"Papa, can you help me with these, please?", Finn asked as he saw Max close his notebook on the table, thinking he was done with work.

"I can't right now, Finn! Can't you see I'm working?", he snapped, regretting his choice of words and tone to let your son know he couldn't help him just yet.

Finn was quick to mumble "I'm sorry", grabbing the box he wanted help with and leaving to find you. When he met you in your office, the tears he was holding on fell softly from his eyes as you stretched your arms for him to cuddle you, "I didn't mean to make papa upset", he muttered after settling down his hiccups.

"I know you didn't, my love", you assured, "and deep down papa knows that too", you tried, "how about after papa finishes what he is doing, he talks to you? Would you be fine with that?", you asked, brushing his blonde hair with your fingers.

"Yes", he hiccuped before he settled himself against your chest, fist clutching your top as you swilled you both with the help of your legs, your lips pressing multiple kisses on his forehead as he settled down.

Finn fell asleep on your arms by the time you needed to get started on dinner so you set him down on his bed, heading to the kitchen and finding Max in there already, stirring something in the pot.

"Is he asleep?", Max asked, and once you looked at his face, you confirmed how sorry you thought he would be, "yes, I left him in his bedroom until dinner is ready", you stated, waiting for him to speak.

"I didn't mean to do it, the minute the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. It took me straight out to when I was a kid", he sighed, making you go up to him and rub his back encouragingly, "I don't want that for Finn, or for any other kids we might be fortunate to have, never ever! And I failed him, and I failed you. I'll apologise as soon as he wakes up", he fumbled with his thumbs.

"You're nothing like what you felt or experienced when you were a kid, Max", you stated, "you know that and I know that. What you didn't isn't excusable, and I think you're doing the right thing in apologising to Finn, but don't best yourself up about this. You and your father couldn't be any more different, okay?", you ensured, kissing his cheek.

When dinner was ready, Max went upstairs to wake Finn up and talk to him.

"Hey, Finn, time for dinner", Max said as he shook his little body softly, "and I'd like to apologise to you if that's okay", he justified, letting him sit up straight and tub the sleep out of his eyes, "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, you didn't deserve it and I shouldn't have dealt with the situation the way I did. I love you so much and I never want to you think you upset me, much less for asking for me".

"I just wanted help with the new puzzle mama got me", he said, "but it's okay, you're forgiven. Just, don't do it again, okay? Please", he pouted, making Max make a promise to himself right there: no more snapping.

"Of course I won't, buddy", he said as your son crawled to his arms, "Good, papa, now let's go downstairs because mama is making spaghetti with cheese!".

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

#max verstappen blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[gimmeurtmi]

Hi 🧡 was wondering if you can write something and anythingggg for sub felix with a noona kink (an enemies to lovers scenario) thank youu <33

ooooooh i like this a lot 👀 let me put out a disclaimer that i know nothing at all about gaming lmao but the idea was there so let’s please suspend our disbelief in all the gaming lingo i’ll badly be using <333

(warning; swearing, smut!!!🔞, reader is older than felix but not specified, guest starring innie, very light sub!felix, )

felix slumped in his seat, growling loudly as his character died again. he wasn’t doing well, not at all, and he just couldn’t get past the trolls guarding the mountain.

it wasn’t helping that you were there—pretty, and giggling, and so much fucking better than him at this game. why did jeongin have to invite you over for game night?

you were jeongin’s friend, not his, and you made that pretty obvious. “felix, you suck.”

“noona,” jeongin tsked, “be nice to lixie-hyung.”

“nice isn’t gonna get us to the top of the mountain!” you rolled your eyes. felix needs to get his stress balls out before he punches the wall.

“what will then?” felix scoffed. you turned to him, eyebrow raised.

felix could tell you were annoyed at him by the way your jaw was clenched but he couldn’t quite look away. you were really pretty, and annoyingly enough, you were even prettier when you were mad.

“maybe let’s take a break,” jeongin senses the tension and decides a breather is needed. “i’ll go make some food.”

he leaves the two of you alone, which felix thinks is stupid, and you resume the game anyway.

“just try, i’ll help you,” you suggest, moving closer to him. felix doesn’t know how to say this without sounding like some kind of perv, but you next to him—hands on his wrists and guiding his fingers across the console isn’t helping at all. his character dies within three seconds.

“oh my god, lix,” you groan. “just fucking shoot them!”

“i’m trying!!!” he yells, “can’t you see i’m trying?”

“try harder!”

“stop telling me how to fucking play!” he gets up, throws the console on the sofa and storms to his room. from the corner of your eye you can see jeongin shuddering before sending you a dirty look.

you sigh heavily. you quickly get up to apologise, you did promise jeongin you’d play nice this time.

you softly knock on the door and a deep voice sounds through the wall. you take it as a sign to go inside and you do, met with the sight of felix squeezing away at two of his stress balls.

“uh,” you say awkwardly from the door. “i’m, sorry. didn’t mean to make you mad and all.”

“‘sfine,” he mumbles out, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it close to his chest.

you sit down next to him, and felix moves closer—if only by a mere centimetre—and you take that to mean he isn’t upset. so you speak on. “jeongin really wants us to get along, so i’ll try and not yell at the time.”

felix nods.

“but you also need to, i don’t know, get better,” you chuckle softly. felix looks over at you, a small smirk on his face, and you feel relieved when you realise he understood your joke.

“i’ll be honest, y/n,” he sighs, and you fold your hands over your chest. felix always calls you by your full name, and it’s annoying, and it makes you feel like a stranger to him. “there’s a reason i’m not good.”

“yeah,” you nod, “you suck.”

“it’s because i like you,” he rushes in a quick mumble of words.

you cough.

“i like you and you just think of me as your younger brother’s friend who sucks at video games and it makes me mad so i start yelling and then you yell back and sometimes i think about how it would be fun if you yelled at me in a sexy way and not because i keep dying and—“ felix gasps, covering his mouth with both hands.

you start laughing, loudly, much to felix’s horror, who keeps shaking his head and telling you to be quiet.

“but it’s funny!” you try and breathe out, the blush on felix’s cheeks just about calming down now. “i think it’s cute you like me.”

“but?” felix raised his brows, timid.

“but how is me yelling sexy?”

“most of what you do is sexy,” he all but whispers, “like when you were holding my wrist and guiding me earlier.”

you nod. you move closer, your thigh touching his knee, and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“would it be okay if i guided you somewhere now?” you ask, softly.

“like-like-like where?”

“a stress relief, of sorts,” you chuckle, looking down at your body before giving felix a pointed look.

he gasps, so cutely, and nods quickly. “yes, yes. uh, yes, noona.”

he says it so simply, so casually, that you can’t help the small moan of satisfaction that leaves you. felix’s whole face lights up at the sound.

you bring his hand in between your thighs, watching as felix moves closer and closer to your core—eyes sparkling as they look up at yours hopefully.

“can i, i can touch you here?”

“yeah,” you breath out, feeling the way your core flutters at his question, “you can make noona cum and then i won’t be so mad at you for losing. sounds good?”

felix nods quickly.

“are you good at it, lixie?” you ask with a small smirk, just to tease him.

you watch as his bright eyes darken in determination before he starts softly touching you, watching intently for your every reaction.

#ask #anon #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #felix x reader #felix x y/n #felix x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x y/n #all.works #skz.blurbs

[ada7201]

How about the Blue Lock female player Unohana reader scaring the shit out of the Kaiser and Ness?

hii ♡ i hope this is fine, i had a bit of trouble coming up with ideas (；ω；)

“she’s scary!”

Kaiser, Ness x female reader

★ part 1 ★ part 2 ★ part 3

warning:

a lot of swearing!

as you walked down the hallway, all ready and dressed for the upcoming match, you bumped into a - wall?

your eyes drift upwards, until they land on none other than Michael Kaiser.

“oh, sorry.” you smile politely, stepping away from him. “i didn’t mean to do that.”

his sharp blue eyes glared down at you, before he let out a scoff.

“whatever.” he’d mumble, a shoulder brushing past your as he walked away from you.

your eyes darkened slightly, before you sighed.

you can’t get angry before a match, now can you?

“y/n! get over here!” one of your teammates would call out for you, waving.

the rest of the morning wasn’t that challenging, with you and your team warming up before the match started.

and finally, the moment you have been waiting for.

your steps were soft against the floor, but as soon as you entered the field; your body seemed to get heavy. heavy with determination. no, a feeling stronger than that.

ego.

your eyes drifted across the field, before landing on Kaiser.

you couldn’t wait to fucking crush him.

“y/n, let’s try not to break the ball like you did during practice.” a teammate leaned down to whisper in your ear. “you’ve got the spirit, but you’re quite fired up today. did something happen?”

you turned your head to the player, a confused scowl on your face which quickly shut them up.

as soon as the whistle was blown, both you and Kaiser ran for the ball.

you managed to get the ball first, darting pats Kaiser as he growled. how fucking dare you!

he was quick to run back after you, eyes narrowing as he watched you.

SLAM!

your foot slammed down on the ball once again as you passed to a teammate, before you turned your body around to glare at Kaiser.

“you bitch.” he’d mumble, before chasing after the ball.

“what a fucking loser.” your voice was full, bored, even.

you sighed, watching as Kaiser ran towards you - you assumed he was aiming to score.

your foot slithered between his and the ball, taking it from him, before you ran right past him.

“get off the field if you’re going to act like an eager child.” your soft lips would mutter as you dashed towards the goal.

SLAM!

y/n scores the first goal of the game!

1 - 0, __ in the lead!

Kaiser couldn’t help but roll his eyes, how dare you?

he’ll teach you a lesson.

well, that’s what he thought.

Ness was a bit behind Kaiser, watching the way his expression was more - angry than usual.

was it that girl?

Ness had to admit, you weee pretty intimidating. maybe almost on the same level as Kaiser!

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing? day dreaming during a game?”

“s-sorry, Kaiser!” Ness would apologise, only for his eyes to look up and be met either your looking figure.

“Kaiser? you mistook me for that coward?” you seethe, darkened eyes glaring down at him. “move.”

he couldn’t help but obey, letting you whip past him and score, once again.

“Ness! what do you think you’re doing?!” Kaiser would scold, however he kept his eyes on your form.

the game was a long, drawn out match of you terrorising every player you passed.

“oh, look. it’s the peasant who calls himself an Emperor.” you scoff, glaring at him through the corner of your eyes before chasing after your teammate, who then passed to you.

Kaiser had just about enough of you!

he took a heavy step, before chasing after you with eyes full of ego.

“get back here.” he hissed, only for it to fall on deaf ears as you -

SLAM!

y/n scores once again! 6 - 3! __ is in the lead!

by the end of the match, your team had won.

Kaiser’s hand twitched, and as he held it up he realised that he was shaking.

his eyes shook, limbs trembling.

it had been so long since he felt defeat.

Ness watched in horror as you grinned in victory, as if you didn’t just… shatter their team.

he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, though.

you were scarier than Kaiser.

#bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock #bllk #bllk x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser x you #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #ness blue lock #ness alexis #alexis ness #ness x reader

[rosesbxrry]

Banquet

Pairing: Husband! Jay X Wife Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), established/ married AU!

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding kink (to the max), Oral (female receiving), fingering, slight lactation kink (very brief but if you’re sensitive, I advice you not to read any further), a lot of dirty talking about making babies, Jay using the term ‘wife’ to the reader, slight cockwarming. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else

Summary: Celebrating special occasions with your husband was nearly impossible with your young son around, especially when the both of you craved for something more intimate. With the help of your mother, she opt to take care of your son, leaving you and Jay to take advantage of this rare moment.

Main masterlist

Word count: 2, 469 words

The sound of your phone closing echoed in the empty dining room, finding no trace of any new messages from your husband who had promised to come back home from work as early as he can. Today marks your wedding anniversary, preparing a banquet full of his favorite dishes to celebrate the special occasion.

You had left early from work to send your son to your mother who agreed to take care of him so that the couple could enjoy some quality time without their toddler fussing around. Don’t get it wrong, you love your son from the moon to the back but the last time you baked a birthday cake for Jay, your son took his time destroying it before the surprise party.

If it wasn’t for his chubby cheeks and buttercream frosting all over his face and body, you would have cried instead of laughing at the sight of the mess.

Your thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the front door opening, signalling that Jay was back. You shuffled hastily to greet him, beaminng at the entrance of the door as Jay took off his dress shoes.

“Welcome back.” You said, reciprocating the hug he initiated even though he was holding his briefcase and jacket on each hand.

“Hey, love. Happy anniversary.” He circles his arms around your waist, pulling you into a quick peck on the lips, smiling loopy as he holds you close to his body. You laugh, arms lock around his neck in an intimate manner.

“Happy anniversary to you too.” You grin at the way he sneaks another chaste kiss to your lips before losing his grip to stare at you.

“Sorry about coming home late,” He apologised, pushing some strains of hair that escaped your bun out of your face lovingly. “The others wouldn’t leave me alone to come home to my beautiful wife.” You chuckled while imagining Jake and Sunghoon constantly tailing him for business related affairs.

Yet, Jay doesn’t want to admit that without those two as his trusted right hand mens, he wouldn’t be able to flourish the company without his advisors beside him. You gave him a few pats in the chest before saying. “Now, now. As the boss, you have to set a good example to your employee if you want them to actually see you as the leader.”

“Oh? I thought I was the boss here? Why would I need to listen to you?” He raised his eyebrows in a playful manner.

“Because I’m your wife, and it goes without saying that I’m automatically your boss.” You poke his chest challengingly.

He gave you a mini salute. “Yes Madam, anything you say goes.” Laughter ensued in the room as you ushered him to come in, heading towards the dining table filled with an array of dishes you’ve prepared.

“I might have to heat up a few. They’ll taste better warm.” You said, distracted on washing your hand on the sink to handle the food when a pair of arms circle themselves around your waist from behind.

You immediately giggled when you felt his pair of lips pressed against the shell of your ears, hugging you from behind as you shiver from the contact. He moved to kiss you at the column of your nape when you turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You really can’t wait until the end of dinner, can you?” You taunt, staring at the way he was looking at your lips before smiling. His grip on your waist in a sensual manner as he leans close to your face to whisper— it almost gets your knee buckling at the proximity.

“I can’t help myself, can I? Not when my son is not here and I got his beautiful, sexy mommy all to myself.” He bit his lower lips, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle at his words.

“So you’re not gonna eat my food?” You ask. He shakes his head, watching you with hooded eyes.

“I'd rather eat you.”

He captures your lips without a second to spare; a content sigh emits from both of your lips as the constant aching feeling inside finally vanishes at the touch of each other’s lips. Jay’s soft lips move to devour your own, not like the ones he would usually display in your mundane life, but a sort of thirst or hunger in the way his tongue explores the roof of your mouth to suckling on your bottom lip.

“You don’t even understand the things I want to do to you.” He mumbled.

You moan and tighten your hold on his neck as he trailed down to kiss your jaw, leaving rough butterfly kisses on the sensitive skin before moving slowly to nibble on your neck. He pushes his body against yours, the edges of the marbled countertop digging at your lower back. The faint smell of his cologne alone could intoxicate you with electrifying pleasure but partnered with his dangerous lips and roaming hands on your sides, you can’t help but let him take the wheel.

“What is it you want to do to me?” You whispered, leaning back to let him leave hickeys on your neck with his love bites.

His fingers moved under your shirt and you let out a little gasp at the feeling. He chuckled at your cute reaction. “I rather let my body do the talking.”

His arms lifts you up to sit on the countertop before he adjusts himself to stand between your legs. You took this opportunity to loosen his tie while he proceeded to remove your shirt, diving in to attack the swell of your breast against your bra.

“Jongseong.” You whine, feeling his cold fingers on your back as he unclasps your bra from behind. He watches with a lustful gaze as your breast bounces out from their confinements.

“Beautiful.” He compliments, and you blush at the way he cups one pair to level it to his mouth, lips capturing the hardened nipple with a small suck. You cried out when he nibbled the area, licking and lapping at the sensitive tit while the other was occupied with his other hand, fingers delicately played with the neglected nipple to compensate for the lack of attention from his lips.

“Fuck, Jongseong.” You moaned. “Feels so good.” You close your eyes, feeling the pleasure stimulate the throbbing on your cunt as you lean back in your palms.

“If I suck hard enough, will your milk come out?” He asked while his mouth was still occupied with your nipple, his cheeky comment made you let out a shaky laugh.

“Not unless you want me pregnant again.” You said before choking on a whimper when his fingers discreetly moved under your skirt, rubbing at your clothed folds that were wet with your arousal. He pushes you down on your back, letting you rest on the marble surface before you look up to see him unbuckling his belt to relieve himself from the huge visible bulge of his hard cock against his pants.

“I think we can arrange that.” He commented.

He was roughly unbuttoning his white dress shirt, his fingers moving impatiently to rid of the fabric to display his lean body; melanin skin with toned arms and deep v-line bare for you to gaze. You swallow down the saliva coating at your throat, imaging the way his body would move against yours, the amount of brute force as he pounds into you that it was almost impossible to even imagine you not being pregnant after.

He almost chuckled at the way you squeeze your thighs together, grabbing your knees to pull them wide open for him to see the visible dark wet patch on your panties.

“Shit,” He cursed. “Are you that excited for me to fuck you? Can’t wait for my big cock to be in your pussy and fucking you dumb until my seeds make you pregnant with my babies? Yeah, you want that don’t you?”

You let out a breathy yes as he pulled your panties down until it dangled on one of your ankles before bunching your skirt. The sight of your folds wet with your own juices in full display for him like a meal had him groaning while messaging the flesh of your thighs. You bite back at the way he prompts one of your legs on the countertop, shivering at the sheer coldness that hits your core.

“Don’t worry, I'm gonna fill this tight hole with my seed and you’re gonna thank me for it like a good wife. But first—“ He leans down and you let out a loud gasp that echoes through the kitchen, feeling his tongue licking a stripe along your dripping slit. “—let me eat you out.”

You stuttered out multiple broken moans, pleads mixed together in between when starts going faster until he was burrowed deep into your cunt. With a hand gripping his hair while the other rested over your forehead, you see the concrete ceiling of the kitchen when you throw your head back when he attaches his lips around your clit.

“Please go faster.” You were sobbing at the sheer amount of pleasure as your husband eats you out without mercy, every flick of his tongue sends you over the edge until you feel the tight knot in your stomach.

“Fuck— Jongseong, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp.

As if his tongue wasn’t enough, Jay slid a finger in you before following it with another, stretching your hole and caressing your sensitive walls. You cried so loud when he slid his fingers in and out of you, accompanied with his tongue pressing on your clit in a slow agonizing motion that you came all over his mouth with your back arched and hips bucking ever so often.

His mouth welcomes your juices, cleaning the fluid off your folds as he rides you out of your orgasm.

“You’re right. The meal does taste good when it's warm.” He wipes the excess off his lips.

You tried to catch your breath, but when he handled your other leg on the countertop as well, you stared at him reaching into his pants to whip out his hard cock, pumping the length a few times with beads of precum leaking out of the head.

“You’re going to be beautiful carrying another baby for me, yeah?” He said, aligning the head with your hole. You let out a shaky breath as he descends into you between your legs, his cock filling you to the brim as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“So fucking round with my child. Breasts filled with milk for them. Showing everyone how good I’ve knocked you up with my cock. You like that don’t you? Showing them how bad you wanna carry my kids.” His mouth spouts every dirty word and you can’t help but reach out to hold onto his arms for support, his pelvic flush against yours.

You moan with every thrust of his hips, his grip on your sides were hard and tight that you were sure bruises would form the next morning. The loud wet sound of skin slapping echoed in the kitchen and this time, the both of you don’t have to worry about your son from ruining the moment and potentially scaring his life.

“Yes— God fucking yes. Put a baby in me, please.” You plead, watching as Jay’s eyes turn feral at your request. His fucking you roughly, your face twisted into the most lewd expression possible. The carnal lust was evident in the way the head of his cock japs at your g-spot over and over again, imagining it reaching close to your womb and painting it with his seeds.

“Fuck, take it. Take it like a good girl. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum and breed you like a good wife you are—“ He chokes a little, voice an octave lower as he groans loudly. “—fucking hell, you’re so tight.” He growls out while watching you squirm below him with your mouth agape. He feels you sucking him in, your walls spasms over his length that gets him throwing his head back with his eyes shut closed.

“I’m so close, fuck— I’m cumming.” You’re at the edge of losing your mind at the familiar tight feeling in your stomach, letting him rut you into oblivion even though it was starting to hurt with the way he keeps drilling into that sweet spot, making you see stars dancing along your vision. Your legs were shaking at every vicious movement of his hips, his balls slapping against your skin.

A few more slams of his hips and you came hard on his cock— ropes of his cum filled you in warm slow waves. At this point, Jay would usually fuck you through your orgasm but that would risk spilling the load and for some reason, it made the pleasure even more overwhelming at that thought of him trying to keep it in.

He didn’t show any intentions of pulling out, instead he helped you sit up on the countertop, clinging on to you with his face nozzle to the crooked of your neck. You wrap your hands around to feel his back, beads of sweat sticking to his skin under the tense muscles.

Only heavy breathing filled the silence but oddly enough, him being in you was completely relaxing. This is just you and him basking in the moment of clarity in each other’s embrace. Jay moved to stare at you, pushing back wild stray hairs out of your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He hummed sweetly.

You nodded your head with confidence. “Yeah. I have been thinking about it a lot and maybe adding another little one into the family is the right decision now. Are you okay with it?” You ask. He pecked you without hesitation, a big smile on his face was enough to tell you that he equally wanted this as well.

“You should call in sick for work tomorrow.” He said. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Why?”

You yelp in surprise when he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, making you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck for support. The movement caused you to be well aware of his cock still inside you, hard and aroused that gets your toes curling at the way his throbbing against your sensitive walls.

You feel him moving to the familiar direction of your bedroom, and you can't help but shiver when he whispers an octave lower against your ears, heart pumping in excitement.

“I don’t think you can walk properly once I’m sure you're stuffed full with my cum.”

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong​ @skzenhalove

#enhypen #enhypen smut #jay smut #jay x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenario #enhypen headcanons #enhypen oneshots #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enha #enhypen drabble #park jongseong #kpop hard hours #kpop smut #jay oneshots #enhypen blurbs #jay imagines #lily’s enha hard hours

[gtgbabie0]

Hiya, I love your writing so much! Could I possibly request a leon x reader fic, where the reader has social anxiety. ❤️❤️

-Leon Kennedy x reader

Hiya lovely!! Thank you so much I hope this alright, sorry it took so long 💕💕

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You’ve been quiet all week, quieter than usual ever since Leon had told you about Claire’s get-together, a tiny little catch-up with everyone, it would be nice, you keep telling yourself as your mind does everything in its power to disagree.

You want to go of course you do, they’re your friends and it makes you feel so silly for being this worked up about it, how there’s a blocky feeling that wedges itself in the back of your throat with stubbornness, and your breathing gets heavier, you hate how this has so much control over you.

The sun was out, casting its warm light over you as you look around at the garden full of people, all chatting amongst themselves and you try to gather yourself, deep breaths, you keep reminding yourself.

You didn’t want to ruin Claire’s little get-together by leaving early, but your mind was racing with horrible thoughts.

Leon notices, of course, he does, he is so attentive when it comes to you that it makes it hard to hide anything from him, and he’s quick to finish his conversation with Chris and Jill, walking over to where you’re sitting.

his hands gently clasp over your shoulder as he sits beside you, “Hey angel, you doing alright?” He says looking at you with tender eyes.

You nod your head, fingers picking at the skin of your thumb it’s a bad habit you do when you’re nervous, he notices, taking your hands in his and his thumb smooths over the curves of your knuckles.

“Yeah I’m alright, just needed a breather” You smile, looking down at your entwined hands that rest on Leon’s lap, he notices the uneasiness in your eyes, how they flicker around the small garden as if you’re waiting for something terrible to happen.

“You know, Claire banned Chris from using the grill, she says he’s a fire hazard,” he tells you, smiling at the giggle that leaves your lips, he’s good at distracting you, “Do you remember when he burned those burgers?” He asks, hands still holding yours, and a laugh bubbles out from your lips at the memory.

“Yeah, it was awful, they were so charred” You giggle, and he nods saying something about how they were inedible, and the voice in the back of your head seems to be a lot quieter.

He stays by you, hand still entwined with yours as you both sit and talk about whatever comes to mind and Leon can still feel the anxiety that lingers in your eyes, he notices the shaky sigh you let out “You ready to leave yet angel?” He asks, and his heart hurts at the sight of the sadness in your eyes.

There’s a build of anxiety that settles uncomfortably in your chest and it hurts to breathe, Leon notices the way you squeeze his hand as a group of people erupt into loud laughter, and there are so many conflicting noises it becomes so overwhelming, and you hate yourself for it.

“Come on sweetheart,” he says, noticing the way the panic builds up, he helps you up from your seat as he guides you to Claire’s empty kitchen, his chest tightening at the tears that fill your eyes.

He wipes away the stray tears that fall down your warm cheek, “I’m so sorry, I— don’t know why it’s just too much” you ramble through ragged breaths.

He shakes his head softly and his hand soothes your back, “You’ve got nothing to apologise for sweet girl, hey— you did good” he whispers, the back of his fingers grazing against your cheek.

Leon grabs you some water urging you to drink it and you do, calming yourself down, “I just- I don’t want to be a bad friend, Claire was so excited about this I don’t want to ruin it” you sigh, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you wipe them away.

“She’ll understand sweetheart, I promise you’re not a bad friend, Claire would never think that,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you mumble a quiet ‘okay’

“Let’s go home, get you some dinner yeah?” He says taking note of the setting sun, and you nod in agreement as you both walk back out to the garden exchanging goodbyes, and he doesn't let go of your hand.

Claire gives you an understanding hug and it makes you want to cry all over again because she’s always been so sweet to you, and Leon takes you back to the car his hand holding yours.

“I love you, Leon,” you say, watching his concentrated look as he continues to drive.

“I love you too, so much sweetheart” His hand squeezes yours, and you eventually fall asleep whilst he drives home, exhausted from the stressful day you just had and Leon makes a mental note to let you sleep in tomorrow.

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#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil x you #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #re4 leon #resident evil fic #resident evil imagines #resident evil leon #resident evil 4