#if i had a working laptop might have made this a gif set

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed. 

“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!” 

Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk. 

“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way. 

“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”

The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.

“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!” 

“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.

He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.

Just two people . . . being people.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.” 

It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.

You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.

Surely people make close friends online all the time. 

You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.

“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were. 

Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . .  not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.

“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”

“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,” 

“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone. 

“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!” 

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.

Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt. 

Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend? 

“You do know what my job is, right, La?”

“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is. 

Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey um, million?” 

“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own. 

“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out. 

“Yeah?”

 “Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,” 

The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!” 

“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.

“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you. 

“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.

Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.

“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest. 

“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.

He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.

It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’

“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.

proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #🐈 ﹒wired in? ﹐♫ #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula racing #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #max x reader #max x you #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one

[muddyorbsblr]

what makes a princess

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Morgan asks a question about Jane's royalty status that leads to her revealing one of Loki's secrets

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning/s: potentially inaccurate depictions of how to become royalty in Asgard; other than that, none, this is just fluff [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Morgan being an adorable lil beb; Nat doling out some tickle torture; teammates/coworkers to lovers

"Is Auntie Jane a princess?" 

You looked up from your laptop, taking a break from typing out your latest set of reports to wrap up your most recent mission with Nat to look at little Morgan Stark, who was sitting across you at the dining table. She looked the spitting image of her father as she anticipated your answer. 

"I don't…think so…?" you trailed off, trying to remember if Thor had even mentioned anything recently about plans to marry the mystical hammer wielding scientist. "Maybe one day soon, baby. When they get married."

"Who's getting married?" The velvety low timbre of Loki's voice nearly made you jump out of your seat, his fingers briefly ghosting over the skin of your shoulder not helping in the slightest. A small squeak of protest slipped from your mouth when he picked up your coffee mug. "Ease your worry, darling. I'm simply refilling your cup. Black with a teaspoon of sugar, or would you prefer something sweeter?" 

Morgan's little laugh began to echo throughout the common area. "You have confuzzled brows again, Auntie Y/N." 

The image of the raven-haired god looking up at you through his lashes from where he stood behind the kitchen island may very well haunt your dreams tonight in the best possible way. "You know what…surprise me, Mischief." The smirk he sent your way should have had you worried with what he had in mind, and yet the only thing you felt was the violent fluttering in your stomach that had nothing to do with your prolonged fasting. "As for your first question…we were talking about Thor and Jane." 

"Ah, well my oaf of a brother may think he's been keeping relatively quiet about the matter, but that day will most definitely be coming sooner rather than later," he spoke over the clinking of a metal spoon stirring around in your cup. 

"So it's like in the cartoons?" Morgan directed her question at him. "The prince has to marry the woman he loves so that she becomes a princess?" 

"Not quite, little Stark." Your brows knit together again at the sound of whipped cream coming out of a can coming from his direction. "There are no strict marital customs in Asgard, and as such if a member of the royal court were to publicly commit themself to another, then in turn that individual would become royalty as well. Thor has publicly committed himself to Doctor Foster, and despite having abdicated the throne to the Valkyrie, he is still a Prince of Asgard." 

"So Auntie Jane is a princess?" 

"Don't arm us with this info, Laufeyson. I might just call her Princess Foster for the rest of time," Nat's voice sounded through the common area, her usually lethal hands wielding a more delicate touch when she ruffled the hair on your and Morgan's heads before occupying the seat beside you. 

"By Asgardian customs, yes. You can consider Doctor Foster a princess." 

The assassin eyed Loki's approaching form with a knowing smirk on her face, tilting her head to look at the mug he placed on the table a few inches from your hand. "Hold on, are you telling us that all that's needed for someone to be considered royalty in Asgard is if a member of the royal family is in love with them? That's it?" 

"If it's as widely known as how my brother loves his mortal," he confirmed. "And while I surmise that she will not appreciate being addressed as such, you would not be incorrect in calling her Princess or Your Highness." You were acutely aware of the god's proximity to you from the slight movement in the corner of your eye of his fingers at the back of your chair. And the slight heat coming from his body literally inches from your side.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Jane Foster," you mused, blowing lightly on the hot beverage in your mug and holding back the slightest thrill as the taste of your favorite little indulgence, a white chocolate mocha with a cold vanilla flavored whipped cream on top, flooded your tastebuds and blanketed you in an instant comfort. "She's definitely gonna hate that. Thank you, Mischief." 

Your heart caught in your throat when he tucked a hand under your chin, keeping you looking up at him as his free hand straightened out the ruffled locks of your hair, putting them neatly back into place. "My pleasure, little mortal," he murmured, swiping his thumb briefly at the corner of your mouth before walking back to the kitchen, starting on his own drink.

"You wanna fill me in on this domestic bliss vibe I'm picking up from Horns over there?" Nat whispered, leaning in so close she was practically draped on your lap trying to sneak the cup of coffee away from you to take a quick sniff. "He knows your 'treat yourself coffee'? Alright how long have you two been doing the horizontal tango, spill the hardware details, I'm texting Wanda and Jane. Toot suite. You've been holding out on us, you absolute slut--Ow." 

You rolled your eyes at her reaction to you elbowing her in the side. "Please, we both know that barely tickled. Now stand down, Romanoff, I haven't been holding back on anything and you know it--"

"That means you're a princess, too, Auntie Y/N!"

The Russian spy chuckled at Morgan's excitement, resting her chin on your shoulder like a child awaiting a bedtime story. "Uhm…no, sweetie. It doesn't work like that," you tried explaining to the little girl. "See there's more than one kind of love. There's the romantic love like you see in your princess movies, and that's the type that your Dad has for your Mom, the type Thor has for Jane. And that's what makes your Auntie Jane a princess."

"Then there's the love for family and friends," Nat continued for you, motioning between the three of you. "The way I love you, Uncle Clint, Auntie Y/N, and the rest of the team--well, most of them." She elbowed you before you could let out the teasing words dancing at the tip of your tongue. The name of the one that Nat loved in the romantic sense. "Not a single word, Williams."

"I wasn't gonna say anything," you deflected coyly, batting your eyes to feign innocence. "It's not like when you said 'most' my mind immediately went to a certain Serge--NAT!!" You busted out into giggles as nimble fingers found every single ticklish spot by your ribs and showed you no mercy. "I'll get--hahahahaha--I'll get you back for thihihihis, Romanoff, I promise you."

You made a quick note to slip some hot pink hair dye into her shampoo bottle on your next sleepover. The tickling onslaught had taken up all your attention that you didn't even notice that the dark-haired Asgardian leaning back against the kitchen counter was watching the scene before him, a fond smile slowly stretching across his face the longer he watched you.

Nat eventually let up once you started clutching your stomach from laughing too hard, continuing her explanation to little baby Morgan, who was currently the picture of angelic patience. And now looking not a thing like her father.

"Anyway, that kind of love is the kind that Thor has for us. That means that while there is love there, it doesn't make the entire team princes and princesses. You get me, baby?" 

"I get you, Auntie Nat. But you don't get me. Auntie Y/N is a princess, too." 

You took a breath before closing your laptop, promising yourself that you'd finish the reports later tonight. "Last I checked, sweetheart, Asgardian Barbie doesn't like me like that." 

She rolled her eyes at you. "I know that! But Prince Loki does, and that's why you're a princess, too!" 

The amused smile on your face immediately dropped at her words, your neck twitching from the sound of a spoon clattering against the sink and the sound of hurried footsteps walking out of the kitchen causing your skin to prickle. "Morgan…sweetie, you know it's not nice to say things that aren't true," you said softly, not bothering to mask the wavering tone of your voice. 

"But it is!" she insisted, pointing her little hand towards the door. "Princess Auntie Jane, tell her!" 

"Princess--? Oh…I'm guessing you all know about those customs in Asgard that technically make me a princess now?" You nodded your answer at her, not trusting yourself to say anything while you were still struggling to wrap your head around that bombshell that Morgan dropped on you. Wondering if it even was a bombshell to begin with or just the child's overactive imagination. "So I'm also guessing that now you all know that Y/N's a princess, too?" 

"She most definitely is not," you protested, briefly poking at her ribs to drive your point home. "Jane. Babes, this isn't funny." You motioned a pointed finger between her and Nat. "You both know how I feel about him, so baiting me with this kind of hope is just cruel and unusual punishment, especially when I know I haven't done anything wrong to either of--"

"You kind of really are, though," the scientist kept on, giving you a look as if she was amused by how this was completely new information to you. "You really didn't know that Mr 'You are all beneath me' wants you literally beneath him?" 

"Foster, I am two seconds away from kicking your ass over that line. Mostly because I didn't think of it myself." You elbowed Nat in the side again. "Harder. I could almost feel that." 

"Can you two just be serious for two seconds and tell the baby that she's wrong about Loki?" 

You were about to face Morgan again to advise her to find the god and apologize for saying something so outlandish, when Nat and Jane moved in unison, a hand placed on each of your shoulder, leaning in a way that you were now face to face with both of them.

"Okay, little baby," Jane started with a mock serious look. "You're wrong about Loki." 

"Unbelievably wrong," Nat capped off. "Fine. If you don't believe us, then let's start with how he saved you from that building in Belarus." 

"He has saved each of our asses at least once in the last few years," you argued.

"Yeah, but he doesn't heal us with his magic and then stays with us in the medical wing waiting for us to wake up. And I should know because that entire night Thor gave me a laundry list of the times that he got injured from battle and Loki would tell him, and I quote, that 'he shouldn't expend his energy on healing magic when it could have been better utilized for fortifying defenses'." 

"That's--That can't--That doesn't sound right," you muttered, trying to remember anything from Belarus other than being trapped under a collapsed column, convinced that your legs were done for and you'd never walk again, assuming that anyone would even find you in the wreckage. And then next thing you knew you were in the medical wing, with the god only briefly touching your head and telling you that he was glad you were alright before running off to call for Bruce to check on you.

"You make him smile," Morgan spoke up, her face lit up the same way it did when you sat with her on Princess Movie Nights. 

"He smiles around everyone as long as they're not your father or your Uncle Steve." 

"No, Auntie Y/N." She flopped herself onto the table, arms outstretched towards you, like she was trying to quite literally grab your attention and hold on to it. "With us, Prince Loki smiles with his face. When you're around, he smiles with his heart." 

Her words had you stunned silent, frozen in your seat as your friends let you go to walk over to the other side of the table and lift Stark's daughter up in the air to wrap her in a warm embrace and nuzzle her cheeks, earning them several little echoing giggles from her. 

"I uhm…I should go," you mumbled, standing from the table and giving your laptop a small tap. "I'll finish my reports tonight." 

"Tomorrow," Nat corrected you. "I have a feeling you're gonna be a bit busy tonight, Princess." 

Your pulse was drumming loudly in your ears with every step you took towards Loki's apartment, every single nerve on your body on high alert as if readying you to run at a moment's notice. Whether that was away from his place and back to the compound to tell everyone they were wrong, or into his arms, was yet to be seen.

When you reached his door, you could hear voices coming from the other side. One more hushed and panicked, the other jovial and boisterous. Thor.

"You should have stayed, Brother! You finally need not hide your affections for her, and might I say. 'Tis about time because your skirting around her was getting more than tiresome, Jane and I have been considering locking you two in a tiny room together so you could just tell her." 

You couldn't hear what Loki said in response other than something about 'being exposed by Stark's offspring', but that was more than enough to convince you that maybe this wouldn't end in you feeling like a total clown. That maybe there was more credit to the words of Morgan and your friends than you first believed. 

Just three seconds of bravery, that's all you need, you told yourself, raising your hand to rap on the door before you could talk yourself out of it. 

"It seems that in matters of the heart, your little mortal is braver than you, Brother," you heard the blond Asgardian comment before the door opened to reveal the towering bulging god, giving you a knowing look before shuffling out of your way. "I will gladly answer any question he leaves unanswered by the end of the week, my friend." 

"I'm holding you to that, Blondie," you waved him off with a playful smile before turning to face Loki. "Can we talk?" 

He looked at you with a hint of caution, almost as if he was on the same level of anxiety that you were, before giving you a small nod and motioning toward the door. "Come in, darling." 

The words tumbled out of you as soon as you closed the door. "They told me about Belarus." The caution in his eyes turned into panic. "But I need to hear it from you. Because I have…gaps? In my memory. Things I can't reconcile." 

He closed the distance separating you two, taking your hands in his. "Ask me." 

"The last thing I remember from that building was that I couldn't feel my legs. And I know that even with all the tech Stark has at his disposal, I shouldn't be up on my feet right now. Not like this. Rhodey is still in crutches despite all the efforts of Stark and Banner combined, and yet somehow…I'm not. So please. Tell me. Did you--" 

"I healed you," he cut you off, finishing your inquiry. "I could not bear the thought of you waking up distraught. Adjusting to a new reality where you had to rely on any form of machinery to help you function. Not when I knew that I could cure those ails." 

The air left your lungs at his admission, leaving you struggling to even form your next words. "What happened to energy better expended fortifying defenses?" 

His mouth turned up slightly in a knowing smirk. "I see my brother told Doctor Foster of our days in the battlefield." 

"And he's a touch wounded about it." You gave him a playful squint of your eyes, trying your damnedest to keep the mood light despite how closely he was standing, so close you could feel the slight heat radiating off of him, thinning the air to the point that you found it hard to take in your next breaths. "Why did you do it? You were in the clear, everyone else was in the clear, we finished the mission--"

"I didn't give a damn about the mission," he hissed, stepping even closer to you and effectively trapping you between him and the solid door behind you. His breath came out in shuddering exhales, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as he rested his forehead against yours. "The only objective that held any weight with me was keeping you safe." His hand rested lightly on your waist, thumb softly stroking your ribcage. "I have braved far worse things than a burning building and I will face even more dire perils if it means your safety. If it means I do not have to witness your light fading away. And as for why…"

He brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose before his lips ghosted a path to your forehead. If it hadn't been for the god wrapping his arm around you and securing you against him, you would have sunk to the ground from his attentions. 

"It is because Stark's daughter speaks the truth," he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss between your brows. "Because I love you, precious mortal. I never intended for you to know this, to be burdened with the knowledge of my affections, but seeing as I cannot unring this bell, I only wish for you to know that I hold you under no obligation to say anything. All I ask is for to not detest me for my--"

"Are you sure you don't want me to say anything?" you choked out, your heart at your throat from attempting to come to terms with this reality. That these words were actually coming from the god you'd silently pledged your heart to so long ago. That not only did he feel the same, but he was on the exact same page that you were on, believing that the love was unrequited.

"I have long ago resigned to the certainty that my affections for you are--"

"Requited," you breathed, raising shaking hands to rest on his chest, tears welling in your eyes as you felt his erratic heartbeat against your palm. "Don't you dare even try to unring this bell because I don't detest you, Mischief." You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising to the tips of your toes to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. "I love you, too." 

You felt your feet leave the ground as his arm tightened around you and lifted you up, bringing your faces level to one another, his fingers weaving through your hair in a firm yet gentle hold. "Are you sure, darling? You wish to be mine?" 

"Yes!" you blurted out, your face breaking out into a grin that instantly made your cheeks ache. You could feel the tension that flooded you just moments ago slowly melting away at the sight of him mirroring your joy over the turn of events. Any words you wished to say fell silent with a small squeak at the back of your throat when he leaned in again and captured your lips in a more heated kiss, sighing into each others mouths as he lifted you away from the wall, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

When Loki held you up by one arm, opening his apartment door with the other and proceeding to walk back out into the hallway, you let out a little squeak against his lips. "Where--"

"You'll see, my love," he said with a chuckle, pressing one more kiss to your lips before shifting his hold on you, swinging your whole body until he carried you bridal style. "I believe I owe someone a small debt of gratitude for telling you what I had insisted I keep to myself for fear of your abhorrence." 

He leaned down and touched his forehead to yours, lightly rubbing the tips of your noses together and making you giggle at the tender gesture. "I could never--"

"I told you he smiles with his heart!" Morgan's little voice pierced the silence of the hall. "And now you do, too, Princess Auntie Y/N!" 

A/N: For some reason this has been microwaving in my head for weeks before I even began writing it, so now y'all have it, too 👀🫡

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

[myfictionaldreams]

Something New // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate with you in front of his gang?

A/N: This is included in the Mafia!Stucky series however this is set before Bucky joined the trouble x

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism, edging, teasing, authority kink, desk sex, rough sex, fingering, begging, pet names, safewords in place, possessive behaviour, creampie, cockwarming

Words: 3.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Steve Rogers, the leader of the infamous Brooklyn mafia gang, woke you up with his face between your legs. Well, you were already half awake, listening to the birds chirping outside as Steve shuffled down the bed and you didn’t bother to open your eyes even as he settled onto his stomach, heavy hands pushing against the back of your thighs until you were open and bare to him.

It seemed he was in a teasing, slow mood this morning. In no rush whatsoever which only meant one thing: edging. Gentle licks, exploring, bringing you lazily to the brink of euphoria before he blew away the intense feeling.

Before your eyes had even opened for the first time that day you were a quivering, sopping mess. Mewling whilst clawing the sheets beneath to refrain from ripping Steve’s hair out through frustration at wanting to orgasm.

This was only made worse when his phone began to ring from the nightstand and instead of ignoring it like you silently prayed he would, Steve reached over and answered, still whilst lying between your legs. As he spoke to whoever it was that had called, he casually played with your clit, rolling it with the pad of his thumb, watching how your body reacted but never enough stimulation that you were on the verge of an orgasm.

Your moans didn’t dampen in noise so whoever was on the other end of the phone was sure to hear what was happening but you didn’t care, there was nothing you wanted more at that moment than to find your fulfilment.

“No worries at all Buck, we’ll be down in 10 minutes. No, you weren’t interrupting anything, it’s fine”, Steve began crawling back off of the bed as he spoke to the now-identified person on the phone. Your eyes finally snapped open as you cried out in disdain, sitting up and reaching for him but Steve just hung up the phone with a tormenting smile and tapped the side of your leg, “Come on we need to get to the office, Bucky’s waiting downstairs.”

“But- I-, wait-”, you stuttered over your words, sounding pathetic and needy which earned you a somewhat sympathetic smile from your beefy boyfriend who was gloriously naked and hard as he began to lean over to kiss your temple gently.

“Don’t wearing anything under the dress today and we might be able to continue this sooner rather than later”.

So there you were, sitting on the small lounger in the gang’s office, knees tucked under your body to hide the fact that you were pantieless, a book in hand but not reading a single word. Not as your attention was snagged on the hulking form behind the main oak desk, his ‘work face’ on which only seemed to make you more aroused with the authority that seemed to roll off of his shoulders but in other ways made you feel safe.

You watched out of the corner of your eye, the way his muscles flexed beneath his crisp white shirt and tight black dress pants, his thick fingers littered with tiny scars from the fights he’d been in, moving across the laptop with surprising speed, dreaming of them between your thighs or around your throat.

Before the two of you arrived, Steve seemed to constantly have his hands on you, whether it was leading you to the car with his warmth seeping through your dress on your lower back where he pressed. In the car, his fingers casually massaged your exposed thighs, especially as he noticed the way you couldn’t look Bucky in the eye as he’d heard your whimpers over the phone.

So now that you were sitting away from him, feeling touch starved and wanting to be close to your boyfriend, even as you tried to will your body to think about anything else like falling into the fantasy world of the book in your hand but nothing worked.

Thankfully Steve paused for lunch, asking one of his employees to go and get some fast food, craving burgers and fries and getting enough for everyone. As the food arrives and the smell wafted into your sense, Steve finally turned his attention back to you as he eased his seat away from his desk.

“Come up here baby girl”, he instructed, patting the desk in front of him, that he had just cleared the space of. Holding out his large hand, he helped you onto the cold surface, and you automatically spread your legs slightly to give him room to scoot his chair forward, which displayed your pussy to him.

Your whole body warmed instantly with embarrassment as you glanced over your shoulder to look at the gang members, realising the intimate position you were in with Steve sitting between your legs. However, no one seemed to be phased at all as they all continued working, even your new friend and bodyguard Bucky didn’t look in your direction as he ate half of his burger in one glorious bite.

Steve’s hand travelled up the outside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in his finger's path, drawing your attention back to him. The look on his face was all you needed to know, his usually bright crystal blue eyes were now dark, his full lips moist from where he’d recently licked them and the bulge growing in his pants was evident to anyone.

“Everything alright up there?” You’re looking a little distracted?”, Steve smirked as your eyes snapped to his, away from his crotch where you’d just been staring.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the agonisingly deep ache in your core and instead plastered a fake smile on your face. “Yeah, I’m fine, just hungry”. A half lie, you were hungry but for the fast food.

“Well now, I can’t be leaving my girl hungry now, can I?”, Steve mused, startling you as his fingers brushed against the sensitive area of your inner thigh before standing quickly and leaning over to the bag of food. As he continued to tower over you, he opened the bag and took out a few fries, his lips quipping up into a smirk as he thought of an idea.

“How about we play a fun little game, to make up for earlier? I get to kiss you for every fry that I feed you”.

The sound of your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your body humming with anticipation and arousal. He was going to feed you which was an intimate touch without the kisses and fact you were still displayed before him on his desk. You didn’t need to think about it though, it was only a kiss after all and the others behind you didn’t know you’d gone without underwear today so with a smile, you perked your lips and nodded.

Steve huffed a chuckle as he leaned his weight on an arm next to you, ducking his head to peck your lips quickly before feeding you a fry directly into your mouth where you happily chewed.

Steve fed himself a handful of fries before picking up another one for you. This time he kissed the tip of your nose, which had you leaning forward trying to chase his lips, expecting him to kiss there as well but he simply fed you the next fry instead.

With each kiss, Steve picked a different location. Each of your cheeks, forehead, your chin, the backs of your hands and after every touch, he’d feed you a fry. As his mouth descended lower, your body stiffened once again remembering your location and how public it was, even though his lips felt so incredibly good grazing over your pulse point along your throat.

Your next move seemed to be on instinct like you were receiving a reward for being kissed. Instead of just opening your mouth and accepting the food, your mouth opened and tongue sticking out, eyes wide and looking up at him through your lashes. Steve sucked in a breath, his crotch moving closer to yours as he delicately placed the fry on your tongue where you moved it into your mouth and chewed slowly.

However, your actions seemed to push Steve a little further as he began to move the delicate strap of your dress off of your shoulder so that he could kiss the exposed area. The slightest bit of undressing had you coming out of the needy little bubble you’d created around the two of you.

“Wait, Steve”, you whisper, moving backwards so that you could look at him.

“Yes, baby?”, he asked casually and like he didn’t have a care in the world, other than you.

“I think it’s… I mean, there are people- Shouldn’t we go somewhere else?”, your words jumbled into one as your mind became fuzzy with conflicting thoughts.

Steve simply smiled at you, dropping his face again to nuzzle his mouth into your cheek. “Why would I need to go somewhere else? This is my office, my team, my building… my girl”, with each word that he spoke against your lips, his fingers crept dangerously high up your inner thigh once more.

The air suddenly felt thick and warm as you sucked in deep breaths trying to keep composure. “Steve we can’t-”.

“Why not, Princess?”

“Because there are people here in the room, your friends!”, you dropped your voice so it was only audible to Steve, forgetting that Bucky also had enhanced hearing.

Steve crowded you in by placing his arms on either side of you on the desk, his voice just as quiet as yours to mimic you, “Yes, there are people in the room but they don’t care. I could bend you over this table right now and fuck you until the sun sets and they wouldn’t even glance in our direction”.

The breath caught in your throat as your hands slacked onto the top of your legs, the words failing to form in your mouth as you still held some uncertainty but more than anything, the need for him to do exactly what he’d just mentioned became an obsessive thought.

Steve could see and feel your hesitancy. Standing back to his full height, he gently cupped your face, holding eye contact as he spoke. “I’m not going to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, you know that and our safe words are always in place. If you want to go to a private room we can however, I am paying everyone enough money and also trust them that they wouldn’t be phased by our actions. You’re safe here, in this room, with these people and with me”.

You felt like you were floating, skin prickling with the burst of energy and anticipation pouring through you. There was no one you trusted more than Steve Rogers and even the people working behind you were becoming close with, trusting and becoming your friends.

“Do you remember what it was that I told you a couple of weeks ago? About being possessive over what belongs to me? This is one of those things, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing but there’s nothing I’d love more than to show you off, display you before everyone, making you moan those sweet delicious sounds that only I can make you do because you’re mine. And no one elses. Does that make sense?”

It made a lot of sense and now you thought of it, he had been quite obsessive with touching you in public before, or fucking you in areas such as dressing rooms or the back of his car in a busy car park, just because he loved the thrill of getting caught. So, now understanding that he also had quite a significant exhibitionist kink, it answered a lot of questions.

If he had asked you in any other situation if he could fuck you in front of someone, you would have said no just for sheer embarrassment. But like this, where you were already needy and horny, Steve showing his possessive side as well only fueled your arousal which was very uncomfortable. Your juices were now soaking your upper thighs, clit throbbing and pussy clenching around nothing but desperate to be full.

Maybe you were thinking from between your legs rather than your clear mind but all you wanted right now was to have Steve touch you. Biting your lip, you nodded up at him. Steve tilted his head with a raised eyebrow and you realised he needed to hear your words, he always liked you to be as vocal as possible. “I want you, sir”.

Your blonde boyfriend, pulled your face to meet his in a delicate kiss before he released his hold and sat back into his chair, reaching into the bag and placing another fry into your mouth, the fun game having already been forgotten about but you took it happily.

Whilst not blinking, you watched as Steve spread your legs further, pushing any of your remaining dress material out of the way so that he could admire the way your pussy glistened in the light of the day.

“I’m so glad you’ve gone without panties today. Eyes on me and remember, the safe words if you want to pause or stop. Don’t think about the others in the room, just think about where my lips are touching”.

You do as instructed, your lips parted slightly, panting as he presses a single kiss to your mound. Then he’s offering you another fry, his eyebrow once again rising as you don’t immediately accept it as you were slightly preoccupied. Eating it quickly, hardly chewing before swallowing, you watched with thick anticipation as he chuckles and begins to bring your legs forward and up over his shoulders.

Leaning your weight back of his desk, hands behind you, he kisses more firmly and then gives you another fry. The next kiss was more open-mouthed and you sighed in relief as his opened lips stroked your labia. Another fry was given. Then his tongue was mixing into the play, pushing firmly to dip between your folds and your hands give up with holding up your weight as you sit back and rest on your elbows.

The next time food was given, you could hardly chew it in time as Steve licked a deep line from your hole up to your clit. You were lying completely flat against the desk now, mouth open and fries forgotten about, as Steve began to eat like a man starved, devouring your cunt with sucks, licks and kisses, occasionally even scraping his teeth against sensitive spots.

One of his firm hands was laying across your stomach, pressing down so that you were kept still for his enjoyment and the other held onto one of your thighs, massaging the flesh and holding it close to his face. Thankfully he was not in a teasing mood anymore as he drank your juices, tongue exploring your clenching hole, pushing in as far as he could reach before circling your bundle of nerves.

You’d already mostly forgotten about the other people in the room until they would do something like walk across the room or talk to someone on the phone. Your eyes were closed and your mind focused intently on Steve. To be honest with yourself, you could kind of see it from Steve's point of view. Here you were with the most infamous mafia leader on the East Coast, his only thought at this moment was to pleasure you, his girl, not caring who watched but also, wanting people to watch to show his possession and dominance over the situation.

The thought itself made you tighten around his tongue, making him moan gruffly in the back of his throat. The hand he was still using to hold onto your thigh relaxed and slide towards his mouth before his tongue was replaced by the single digit as he crooked and stroked your inner walls, coaxing the overdue orgasm from you.

Your thighs trembled around his face, almost suffocating him but he didn’t care, especially as your fingers gripped onto his soft blonde hair, pulling him closer even though there was nowhere else for him to move. Everything was burning with pleasure, like you were going to explode from your core as it built and tightened and then all at once, you were orgasming hard around his finger.

Your walls fluttered around him, chest rising and falling in quick succession. Steve didn’t stop playing with your clit or fingering your pussy until you were slumped against the surface.

You’d been biting your lip throughout it to try and remain quiet to not disturb the others working which was something Steve was not fond of as he eased your thighs carefully off of his shoulders and began to rise above your body, eyes on your lip. His eyebrows were furrowed causing a crease between them as his thumb snagged the lip away and he could see an indent from where your teeth had been biting on the flesh.

You are not bothered about the flicks of pain over your lip as you beam up at him, eyes glazed and happy. As he massages the flesh, you could now smell your juices that still coated his fingers as they were so close to his nose.

“What was that about? Why were you keeping quiet? I wanted to hear you. Guess that just means I’ve got to make you cum again”.

This was exactly what he did, his work long forgotten about as he swiftly unzipped his pants, easing his throbbing cock out of his restraints and rubbing it between your folds, coating him in your liquids before nudging his tip into your hole. There was no amount of lip biting that could keep the moans back now as he thoroughly stretched you, the mix of the burn from being opened and the pleasure from feeling full had your back arching off of the desk, fingers gripping onto his shirt desperately.

Steve did not hold back thankfully, his hips snapping frantically into yours, one hand next to your head at the edge of the desk and the other holding onto your hip, grounding you onto the surface so he could fuck you. His mouth sucked along the exposed column of your throat, whereas yours hung open with a constant flow of streams filling the room which only made Steve more feral with his actions.

Every thrust felt so powerful and deep that it took an embarrassingly short amount of time before you were having your second orgasm which only made Steve swear and grunt loudly with how tight your cunt was squeezing around his cock.

He wasn’t done though as he pinned your hands beside your head and just fucked into you desperately bringing on his orgasm until finally he stilled and made sure every single drop of his cum soaked your pussy. Even then he didn’t pull out as he gathered your exhausted body into his lap, collapsing back into the seat and tucked himself back into the desk. There you stayed, your head resting on his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath, his cock still inside of you, half hard but enough to plug his cum into your cunt.

Steve’s wrong arms wrapped around your back as you both cuddled, you needed the physical touch desperately with how much you were trembling.

“Thanks, Buck”, Steve muttered and then you were thoroughly wrapped in a fluff blanket that Bucky had found in the cupboards. Hearing Bucky’s name reminded you of the other people in the room as you tentatively glanced over your shoulder to see the brunette bodyguard walking away. As he sits, he catches your eyes and gives you a genuine, normal smile as everyone else was continuing with work as if you hadn’t just been railed over their boss's desk.

Steve groans into your ear, “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m going to stay hard forever, Princess”. You hadn’t realised how much you’d been clenching around his cock still at the thought of having just fucked in front of all of these people and had absolutely no repercussions for it. Steve cupped your cheek as you looked back at him, “Maybe you are a little exhibitionist as all”, he chuckled, kissing your temple as you relaxed back into his chest.

#mafia stucky #mafia au #mafia!stucky #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #mine* #marvel smut

[themorningsunshine]

Brownies

Pie eyed over you : Chapter 2 

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist                        Series Masterlist

Previous Part

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Nothing in this one

Word count - 3.9k

a/n - And here is the second part to the Pie-eyed over you series. I am SO grateful for the love all of you have shown to the first part and I am really excited for you guys to read this. This will (hopefully) not be a very long series but I haven’t decided on how I want it to go so updates might be slow. Please bare with me.Also, let me know what you guys want to see in this story :)

He looks around once before stepping out of the car.

The area is as lively as the last time he had seen it.

Not a lot of changes in 5 days, Bucky 

He can see the bakery from where his car is parked.

He didn't have a reason to be here. For some reason, he hadn't demanded the money last time he was here and he was pretty sure it won't change this time either.

But there was something about this bakery.

It's the cakes. He tells himself, but his suddenly quickening heart tells a different story.

He walks towards the bakery and sees you standing behind the counter, with a small smile on your face, which seems like your default setting, looking at the registers. And just like last time, Bucky's steps falter for a moment before he takes a deep breath as if his lungs had suddenly been deprived of air before walking again.

As he opens the door, the bells above his head jingle and notify you of a new customer.

.

When you look up from the register, your smile grows and turns into a slightly teasing one as you look at the man standing in front of you. You were relieved. Was it okay that you kinda hoped he would come back?

As he walked towards the counter, you spoke up, "Can I say, 'I told you so'?"

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn't help the way his lips were turning slightly upwards. "Come on, sweets. We both know you wanted me to come back."

Your breath hitches in your throat at both the nickname and the comment. You clear your throat, willing yourself to speak, "Of course I did. It's good for business, you know." You tried to sound composed but the smile on your face gave it away.

Bucky chuckled as he took the seat beside the counter and looked at the case full of sweets in front of him. It was still the early hours of the day and there weren't a lot of people in the bakery, except for a couple sitting in the corner and a teenage girl sipping coffee while working on her laptop.

"So, what do you want today?"

You. Bucky's eyes widened as a voice from inside him replied almost instantly and he had to look up to make sure he hadn't said it out loud. What the hell was happening to him? He clears his throat and replies, "Surprise me"

You smile at him before bending to pick up a couple of brownies from the case putting them on a plate and passing them to him. "Just made them. Try and tell me how they are." There was a glint in your eyes and Bucky knew that he could never not like anything you made.

He picked up a brownie and took a bite. As it melted into his mouth, a perfectly sweet taste filling his senses, he closed his eyes and moaned.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and clenched your thighs together at his reaction. "Sweets, this is the best damn thing I've ever had."

You chuckled as red color crept up to your neck at the praise. "Glad you liked it, James."

"Liked it? I love it, sweets." He spoke before taking another bite from the brownie.

You stood there for a moment, just looking at him. There was something about him. A rough exterior, covered in dark clothes from top to bottom, but there were moments like these where you saw just how soft he was beneath all that and for some reason, you just couldn't take your eyes off the man who was eating your brownie as if a second without them would kill him.

The sound of the bells jingling at the door brought you out of your daze. You looked at him once more before walking towards the other end of the counter to the middle-aged woman who had just walked in.

When Bucky finished one of his brownies and forced himself to not instantly reach for the other one, he looked around. The bakery wasn't that large. A small, cozy place with a few decorations. Filled with the smell of freshly baked cookies and cakes, it was warm and inviting. It was so you.

Bucky's eyes landed on a shelf beside the counter and his feet brought him to it before his mind could catch up. It was a small shelf but lined with books.

The books looked old as if they had been read over and over again but well kept. Cherished. He brought his flesh hand to one of the books and slowly picked it up.         To kill a mockingbird

He stared at the cover for a moment, before walking back to his seat, with the book in hand.

As he opened the book to the first chapter, the words brought him to a time long gone. An easier time.

He used to read a lot, as much as he could anyways. He liked books. They were an escape. The stories made him forget about the struggles of his own life.

But that was a habit long gone. Another thing he loved that was lost to time.

He starts reading it before he knows what he is doing and instinctively reaches for the brownie on the plate, taking a bite.

You look up from the cash drawer, eyes drifting to the man who has been occupying your thoughts more than you would like to admit.

He is engrossed in a book and his furrowed brows as he focuses on the book and the soft look in his eyes as he skims through the pages has your heart fluttering. You notice the brownies on his plate are almost gone now and trying your best as to not disturb him, you place another two on the plate and watch as he reaches into the plate without looking away from his book and takes a bite. You smile to yourself before getting back to the kitchen to prepare an order of cupcakes.

＊*•̩̩

Bucky looks up as he feels eyes staring at him, only to be met by your y/e/c ones.

"Finally, and I thought you will finish the whole book in one go." You said, letting out a chuckle.

Bucky narrows his eyes. Sure, the page he was on and the feel of the chair proved that he had been there for long, but it couldn't have been that long, right? "How long has it been?"

You smile at him before tilting your head towards the little clock adorning the walls and Bucky's eyes widen. It had been 2 hours. What the hell had happened to his sense of time?

He hadn't felt this at peace in ... a very long time. He looked down at his plate which still had a small piece of a brownie left and he could swear he could still taste it in his mouth. How many had he really eaten?

Your voice brought him out of his thoughts. "So.." You kept your head on your fist and leaned on the table with a teasing smile on your face and it was becoming difficult for him to focus on the outside world. "And this is a wild guess. Like, completely random. You like reading?"

He let out a chuckle before thinking about your question. "I used to." 

"What happened?" You ask with genuine curiosity. He looks at you and realizes that you're not asking just for the sake of it. You want to know. You want to know him.

"Life. Life happened." He replies, only because he can't get himself to lie to you.

"Come on, James. If we are not able to find time for the things we love, are we really living?"

He looks at you as if pondering over your words. It wasn't that easy.

"I know what you should do." You stood before taking the book away from him, dog-earing the page before sliding it back towards him. "Here, take this book with you."

When he narrowed his eyes, you continue, "Take it with you and read it. When you're done, come back and return it to me." You explain as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if giving him one of your favorite books that you had cherished for so long wasn't a big deal at all.

Bucky shook his head. "Nope, no, sweets. I am not taking it."

"Come on. You don't leave a book in the middle if you like it. It's a crime."

"Then I'll just buy it from the bookshop. This is yours." He said before sliding the book back towards you.

"We both know you won't do that. Come on, James. Just take it."

He picked up the book and slid it into his metal hand, knowing that there was no use in arguing with you but said with a smirk. "Careful there, sweets. Or I'll think you're giving me this book because you want me to come back."

As if on cue, the bell of the entrance dings notifying you of a customer. So, you turn back to look at him for the last time before saying, "Maybe I do."

And Bucky really hopes it's true.

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*

He comes back a week later.

And the week after that.

He comes to the bakery every week until it becomes a routine. A part of him. A part engraved in his life as if it had always been there. It's simple.

He would come to the bakery, the book you gave to him last week tugged under his arms. Sometimes he would be finished with it, other times, he would just promise to return it the next week. You didn't mind. Not till he kept showing up.

He would sit beside the counter, ordering whatever it was you recommended. When you asked him how it was, he would always reply with 'The best damn thing I've ever had.' and he could swear to god he meant it every single time.

The both of you would talk, as much as you could anyways and Bucky found that being around you was the simplest part of his whole week, and the most precious too. It was his little escape. A time when he didn't care what was happening. About the people working for him or the people behind his life, he couldn't care less. All that mattered was that he was there, in the middle of a little bakery, eating sweets and talking to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

You didn't mind either. Somehow, every single time the bell of the entrance jingled, you silently hoped it was the same beautiful blue eyes that you just couldn't take your mind off.

The only trouble was, it is really easy to get distracted from running a bakery all alone when you have a guy like him sitting there, carefree and yet intimidating as if he owned the place. It was very distracting.

And one day, you let him know exactly that. It had been a month since he had shown up at the bakery for the first time. A book on the table and a plate of cookies, talking to you as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

You walked back from the cash register after handling a customer before speaking up, "You know, I have a bakery to run, James, and you are pretty much the most distracting person here." Even though your words were borderline harsh, you let him know through your teasing tone that you were just kidding. Him stopping to come to the bakery was the last thing you wanted.

"Aww, come on, sweets. We both know I am your favorite customer." He replied with a smug look on his face and you didn't know if you wanted to slap it from his face or kiss it. Definitely the latter.

"You wish, James."

.

As if on cue, the bell of the door jingles, and Bucky looks that way to see a young pregnant lady with a blond man standing at the door.

He looks back at you to find you grinning from ear to ear and watches as you practically run from behind the counter towards them and engulf the woman in a big hug, angling yourself so as to not hurt the evident bump.

When you do the same with the blonde man, the air surrounding Bucky suddenly thickens and he realizes he isn't going to like this man much. But it was just because he is blonde. Bucky has never liked blonde guys.

You say something to the both of them before bringing them inside towards a table near to where Bucky is sitting and helping the pregnant lady on a chair. You still have the widest grin on your face when you turn toward him.

"James, this is my best friend, Wanda, and her elder brother, Pietro." You said before pointing towards them.

"He is literally elder than me by 13 minutes." The brunette points at you accusingly as you snicker.

"Still older." The blonde replies with an accent just like his sister.

"Guys, this is James." You point toward him and Bucky watches as something flashes through Wanda's eyes and her lips turn into a teasing smirk.

"So, he is THE James Barnes." She brought her hand towards him to shake before continuing, "She has told me so much about you."

At this, Bucky turns towards you with a smirk on his face and raised brows and watches as your cheeks turn red. Just then, the oven dings and you thank heavens for the distraction, "That's my cue."

You turn back and walk towards the kitchen with hurried steps as Bucky's eyes follow your form, just like they always do. When you disappear into the kitchen and he finally takes his eyes off and turns back, he finds Wanda looking at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk as if she could read his mind.

Bucky cleared his throat, "So, how do you know y/n?"

"We met years ago when she came to visit here as a kid. Have been friends since."

Bucky shook his head but clenched his jaw when she still didn't remove her accusing stare from him.

Pietro, sensing the slight tension between them, tried breaking the silence, but Wanda cut him off, "Where have I seen you before?"

Bucky's breath hitched in his throat. You still didn't know who he was and if it was up to him, he would keep it like that for as long as he could. You looked at him as if he was human as if his hands weren't covered in blood as if you weren't scared of him and he would do everything he could to keep it that way.

"I don't know. You must be mistaken." He took a breath to calm himself down. He couldn't intimidate this woman the way he did with his people. He wouldn't give her a reason to doubt him. She clearly meant a lot to you.

As Wanda opened her mouth to speak, you came back from the kitchen, interrupting the conversation.

You looked towards Pietro before speaking, "The boxes are in the back, and please be careful this time."

Pietro brought his hand to his chest as if your words had somehow hurt him. "You hurt my feelings, y/n. When am I not careful?"

You brought your finger to your chin in mock thinking before replying, "Let me think. Off the top of my head, maybe whenever you drive your bike way past the speed limit. I swear to god, Pietro, one day, your speed will ruin all my sweets."

"Ouch, you care about your sweets more than me?" He said as if your words had physically hurt him this time.

This time, Wanda replied, "Pietro, my dear brother, even I care about her sweets more than you."

The both of you chuckled as Pietro huffed and stomped off towards the back.

You looked at James before explaining, "He does the deliveries for me, as a favor. Believe it or not, it's difficult to deliver stuff in a town you know nothing about."

Bucky lightly chuckled before replying, "Tell me about it."

He then looked at Wanda once again and saw that she was staring at him with the same glare from before, but thankfully, you didn't notice.

He knew he had to leave soon. He wouldn't give her enough time to put the pieces together. "Sweets, I should go."

"You, sure? You could stay. I am sure Wanda wouldn't mind."

"No, I know. But I will leave you to it. Bye, sweets. Bye, Wanda." He turned towards the door quickly as if he couldn't get out of there sooner.

"James, wait." You called out to him and he stopped midstep. He will never get tired of how his name sounded on your lips. "Here. You forgot this." You handed him the book he had been reading for the past week and look up at him with a smile on your face.

Yeah, he definitely didn't want you to find out.

As he walked out of the bakery, you turned back towards Wanda, the smile etched on your lips and a soft look in your eyes. "So....." Wanda started in a teasing tone.

"Don't say it. Don't say it."

"He is hot."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What would Vision think, Wan?"

"You know what I mean."

You bit your lips before looking at her. "It's nothing like that. We are friends. Or at least I hope we are."

"Yeah, because going around calling people sweets is the new thing men do."

You plopped yourself on the chair opposite to her before burying your face into your hands. "It's just a nickname that stuck."

Who were you lying to? You couldn't hide from your oldest friend the fact that every part of you knew that him calling you sweets was the best sound in the whole world. She brought her hands to yours and removed them from your face and you looked up to be met by her serious gaze. "Just be careful, y/n. Something about him just doesn't seem right."

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙

The corridors of this building always seemed darker when he came back from the bakery. He already missed how warm and inviting it was. The book tugged under his arm the only reminder that he had been there.

He heard some voices coming from his office and as he walked closer, he recognized the voices instantly.

He opened the door to his office, only to find Steve and Sam standing in the middle of the room.

"You're finally here." Sam almost exclaimed with relief as his eyes landed on Bucky. "What, couldn't handle this place for a few hours without me, Wilson?" He looked at him teasingly.

"Shut it. Stark called, asking about you. I had to make some half-ass excuse to him. But I am pretty sure he knew I was lying. That man is too smart, I am telling you." "Don't worry about it. I'll give him a call. Will schedule a meeting with him."

Sam crossed his arms across his chest. "What, you're not even gonna tell us where you were?"

Choosing to ignore his question, Bucky walked and sat on the couch. "How's Carl? Alive?" He asked as if he couldn't care less about the answer.

"He is still in there. Breathing." Steve replied before contemplating his next words. "Buck, do you think you were maybe a little too harsh on him? A week in the dungeon filled with our enemies is not really a vacation."

"He got what he deserved, Steve. We can't go easy on them."

Sam looked at Bucky with an accusing gaze before speaking up again. "So I lie to Tony Stark and handle all the chaos in here for the whole day and you just conveniently ignore my question of where you were."

Steve gave Bucky a once-over before smirking. "Let it go, Sam. Bucky has got a lot on his hands."

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve before looking down, only to find crumbs of cookies still sticking to his hands.

He not-so-subtly rubbed his palms on his trousers before looking up and ushering the both of them outside the room with a lame excuse.

.

He placed the book he had brought with him on his table and opened it, only to find something in the middle of two pages. He opened it to find a small flower kept gently between two pages. A little pressed, but fresh, telling him that you had sneaked it in between today.

He picked up the flower, oblivious to the smile on his face when his eyes landed on a small note sticking to it. In swift handwriting, it read                                                To my favorite customer

Bucky couldn't help the way his heartbeat quickened or how he just couldn't remove the smile from his face. But he couldn't care less.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard knocks on the door to his office. Tucking the flower and the note inside the book, he turned towards the door and called out for the person to enter.

When the door opened, his eyes landed on one of his men. "Walker, what do you want?"

"Sir," He said bowing his head a little to him. Bucky never really liked John Walker. He always tried to show himself to be more than what he actually was. But he got the work done and he hadn't given him a reason to not trust him.

"Sir, I checked the collections for this month and I noticed something."

Bucky nodded his head, not really paying attention to whatever he had to say.

"The new Bakery." Bucky's eyes shot up and he tried his best as to not look too interested. "That baker hasn't paid this month too, sir and we can't ignore this. She is trying to rebel. Has no idea what she is trying to go against."

Bucky didn't like where this conversation was going. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. It's just a bakery."

Walker narrowed his eyes at him. When had the most ruthless mafia boss gone so... soft? But maybe he just didn't care for some stupid baker.

"Sir, this sets a wrong example. People will try to imitate her and that is never a good sign."

Bucky was growing impatient now, This isn't how it was supposed to go. "Just let it go, Walker."

"It's okay, sir. I understand that you don't want to get your hands dirty. Please let me handle this. I promise I wouldn't disappoint."

Bucky should have ordered him to not do anything. Should have just given him some other thing to do. But he didn't want to gain suspicions. He couldn't show that he cared about anything. It would always go against him.

He knew this wasn't going to end well, but he nodded his head at Walker. There was no way in hell he would hurt you or anyone without his permission but it didn't mean he was letting Walker anywhere near you without him around.

But among all this, one question lingered in his mind.

Why did he care so much?

Next part 

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[snrrises]

₊˚ෆ seven h.christensen love you to the moon and to saturn

『pairing:hayden christensen x f!reader. warnings: fluff. slight age-gap. reader is of age. mentions of smut. pet names. comfort, kissing/cuddling. if i missed anythings please let me know!』 『 she's short and she's sweet. had the thought of a cute and lazy morning with hayden and so this was created. sorta proofread ??. im in love with this man.』

the soft sunlight that shined through the white sheer curtains made you squint as you awoke, body still heavy with sleep a yawn slipped out of your mouth as you rubbed your eyes. rolling onto your side, you were met with the a set of beautiful blue eyes that belonged to your boyfriend. you couldn't help the swarm of butterflies that erupted in your stomach as you made eye contact with him, you've been together for almost a year but he never failed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a big crush.

"good morning baby," his sleepy voice made you smile.

"good moring hay, were you watching me sleep?" you questioned as you brought a hand up to rest on his cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth on the sleep blushed skin.

"i prefer the term admiring," he replied snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his body.

you raised an eyebrow as you said, "oh really now?"

"yes really, you look very pretty when you drool." at his response you scoffed as you used the hand that was previously on his cheek to give his shoulder a playful shove.

"i do not drool!" you said before bringing your hand to wipe at the side of your mouth. hayden laughed at your actions, his own hand coming to wipe at the opposite side.

"you do but don't worry it's cute, let's me know you slept good." you huffed and rolled your eyes at him.

"yeah okay whatever you say," your response made hayden flash you a smile before he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

the action made your eyes close and your breath hitch as his lips placed another kiss onto your skin, you moved your head so the next one landed on your lips. you felt him smile against your lips, your hand landing on the back of his head to hold him there as you placed another kiss to his lips.

you pulled back a little bit, eyes still closed and eyebrows sewn together you made a face, "ugh you have bad morning breath."

eyes now open, hayden's offended face made you burst into a fit of giggles as you rolled onto your back. hearing your laughter made hayden smile, any signs of offense now gone from his face. he thinks your laughter might be the best thing he's ever heard, swears he could listen to it on repeat for hours. he thinks back to the first time he ever heard it the first day the two of you met, to him it felt like forever ago but in reality it was a little over a year ago. you met each other at the local coffee shop you both frequent. hayden would order a coffee and sit at a small table with his current favorite book and you'd come in and order a vanilla latte and take a seat at a table in the corner, coincidentally right in hayden's line of view.

you'd be sitting at the little table with you're latte and laptop and whatever textbook you needed to complete that nights assignment you received for the night classes you're taking. a few times you'd look up and scan you're surroundings, your eyes sometimes meeting a blue set and you'd always offer a small smile.

a few more weeks passed by of the same routine until one day you had finished you're work and your coffee, you had gotten up to leave when you bumped into someone, spewing apologies to the man while reaching down to pick up the book you caused him to drop. when you stood straight with his book in hand, your eyes met the same pretty blue eyes you'd been seeing for almost a month.

"it's alright, accidents happen," he said as he took the book from your hand, his fingers brushing yours and you swore fireworks went off as his skin touched yours. you flashed him an award wining smile and the rest seemed to be history, not that you minded as it led you to where you were now. cuddled up in bed with his shirt on and his lips pressing kiss after kiss onto your face.

“whatcha’ thinking about,” you’re voice brought hayden out of his thoughts. he smiled as he met your curious gaze.

“i’m thinking about you, pretty girl,” he replied as he lifted himself up to hover over your body, your legs parting to allow him to rest his lower half in between them.

your hands came up to his shoulders, caressing his skin. you playfully rolled your eyes as you asked, “what about me?”

hayden smiles before planting a kiss to your forehead, “the day we first met,” another kiss was planted on the tip of your nose, “our first date," he planted a kiss on each of your cheeks, "when we moved in together."

finally a kiss was planted onto your smiling lips, "and i was thinking about last night," he said with a cheeky smile.

you couldn't help but giggle at what he was referring to, the two of you had been out on a date the night before. hayden had planned the entire night out, you started with dinner at cute little italian restaurant, after you both finished your meals hayden asked if you wanted to take a walk through the park to which you agreed. the car ride back to your shared home was full of stolen glances and lingering touches, the two of you ended up tangled in the sheets of your shared bed.

"you dirty minded man." you gave his shoulder another playful shove, hayden laughed at your action before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

you placed a hand on each of his cheeks and smiled lovingly up at him, "i love you so much hayden,"

"i love you so much more angel." hayden says to you before placing his lips on yours.

you couldn't believe that the man above you who was pressing kisses onto your skin was your boyfriend. every day you wake up you thanked the skies for making you a clumsy mess and bumping into him at the coffee shop.

「 ✦ SNRRISES ✦ 」

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#: ̗̀➛ari writes #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden x reader #hayden x you #hayden christensen x y/n #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #hayden fanfiction #anakin imagine

[yandere-genji]

Hi, big fan of your work!! Could you please do Yandere Genji or Cassidy snooping through their fem s/o's internet history to make sure she's been a good girl, only to discover she's been looking at all different kinds of sex toys?

tw: yandere, abuse reader is gender neutral

💚 Genji

What sets Genji apart from other yanderes is his method of keeping his darling under control. Genji works from a distant. Sure, stalking goes without saying, but his motive runs deeper than simply watching his darling from afar. Since his time in Blackwatch, he’s worked in the shadows. Honed the ability to use himself as threat to subdue enemies. Because when you realize he’s made you a target, it’s already too late. 

So he might not be by your side commanding your every move, but he’ll be there. The unsettling wind at your back, the shuffling of footsteps somewhere in the distance, the displaced objects in your home. He might confront you face to face, depends on what he has planned for you. But by technicality, you’ll have your own space. 

But is it yours, really? Because you can’t relax when you have eyes on you. You’re hyper vigilant, all too aware of any vulnerability you might expose. Still, Genji doesn’t have time to keep watch on you at every second. He has business to attend to from time to time. So when you do have those moments alone, you’re quick to take advantage of them.

Unfortunately for you, Genji is always sure to check up on you when he returns from his duties. He has a few excuses for this, namely that he wants to make sure you’re doing alright, that you’re safe. It’s thinly veiled, though, when he rummages through your delicates, unlocks your laptop and searches your internet history. It was only a matter of time until he stumbled across your unsavory interests, but he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face at the victory of unveiling them. 

When you come home, the atmosphere is uneasy, an eerie shroud weighing heavy at your breast. Small things had been misplaced in ways that don’t make sense. You flick the lights on in your bedroom, and you’ve seen Genji before, but never so close and in such an intimate space. 

He approaches you and you’re too stunned to even move. He holds up his hand and turns over a particularly impressive toy you’d had your eyes on, though the sight of it now has you ill at ease. 

“This one caught your eye?” your face burns red as he examines the toy in his hand, “You’ve indulged me this much, I thought I might return the favor.”

❤️‍🔥 Cassidy

If you’ve never had a helicopter parent, Cassidy is going to take a lot of adjusting too. He loves to baby you, always watching over your shoulder and keeping you on a tight leash. His trust is gained in drops and lost in buckets, so his vigilance all depends on your temperament. That being said, he is very generous in rewarding good behavior, the conditions of which involves varying degrees of eager submission. Just be a good baby, and you’ll have nothing to worry about. 

But it’s not the worry that gets to you. It’s the constant hovering, he’s by your side whenever he can be and watching your every move. You have to be his perfect little angel or he’ll be sure to correct you, and God does he take every chance he can get. The more you gain his trust, though, the more forgiving he will be. 

At first, he’ll shower you with little gifts like clothes or trinkets, he might even let you have some TV time. Then it’s trips to the park, picnic dates and even some restaurants, with the condition you never leave his side. Still, the outside exposure is dearly missed. And when he buys you a laptop, you wonder if it’s a test.

Despite his experience in a highly technical organization, Cassidy is completely oblivious to anything involving technology or computers. It was never a skill he had use for developing, his brute strength capable enough to render any other ability useless. So, he was handing the responsibility to you, trusting you wouldn’t betray him. 

And you didn’t, you were really good, especially when it was new and exciting. The little things were enough to satisfy you, watching YouTube videos, listening to your own music, or simply reading the news. It’d been so long since you had internet access. As time went by, you got a little bolder, messaging some friends and playing video games. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the urge you felt when Cassidy was sent out in a mission, leaving you all to yourself. 

When he was here, you had your fill of sexual attention. Honestly, you couldn’t get his hands off of you. Though it could be exhausting, it trained in you a need. Something you couldn’t quit cold turkey. And without Cassidy to satisfy that craving, you developed a terrible habit of browsing sex toys. 

And what a stupid habit it was, especially when Cassidy caught you red-handed on an early return. The way his smile beamed made you want to recoil into yourself, vanish right then and there. 

“Cassidy! I can explain!” your mind was already in the process of spinning some story, “There was this stupid pop-up ad, I didn’t mean to click it - actually I was clicking out of it, but the stupid track pad- Oh my gosh, I swear.”

You knew he was going to laugh, you were prepared for him to tease you, you knew it was going to happen. But the preparation wasn’t enough to shield your embarrassment. 

“Naughty thing, ain’t ya?” he purred, his lips curling in a wily grin. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you pleaded with big doe eyes you knew would melt him. 

“Oh, pumpkin,” he cupped your chin and circled a thumb over your lips, “Must’ve missed me bad. Let me take care of you.”

From then on, pandora’s box was open. Cassidy loves to see you embrace your sexual side, especially when he can take advantage of it. And your new interest is another opportunity to do just that. He’ll have you put 

 on display while he sits back and enjoys a nice cigar and cool glass of whiskey. 

#can’t come back from a long break without a cassidy piece #yandere #dark overwatch #yandere!overwatch #dark!overwatch #yandere x reader #yandere au #male yandere #cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy #yandere cole cassidy x reader #yandere cole cassidy #genji x reader #overwatch genji #genji #genji shimada #genji shimada x reader #yandere genji x reader #yandere overwatch

[kaleldobrev]

We're Endgame

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Summary: Although you’ve been out of the hunting game for years, Dean manages to suck you back in when you are recruited in pretending to date Sam for a case

Original Prompt: Requested by @fuiabarcelos | I was thinking of something inspired by Taylor Swift's "End Game". Years ago, the reader used to hunt with the Winchesters. Sam and she clearly loved each other, he was always super romantic and certainly wanted something more. However, she was afraid of not being able to express her feelings. Years later, they go back to work together and have to pretend to be a couple in a town where all the women seem to pay attention to Sam. She finally manages to express how much she loves him, because she wants "be your end game"

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining

Authors Note: I really hope I was able to give this request justice ♡ | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Sam and Dean were sitting in the Bunker kitchen, each with a cup of coffee and a laptop in front of them. As the two of them sipped on their coffees, it was Sam who was the first one to speak. “I think I might of found us a case.” Sam said, turning his laptop around for Dean to look at the screen. “Five sets of couples have disappeared over the last five months. All on the same day. All from the same town.”

“Werewolf?” Dean asked, raising a brow as he examined the news article.

“That’s what I thought at first too but, not only does the lunar cycle not fit, none of the couples bodies were even found.” Sam explained. “So, that means no autopsy reports to even double check with.” Sam turned his laptop back to re-face him. “From my research, all the couples that have disappeared were last seen on the 25th of each month, which is a little over a week from now. I figure, if we leave now, we may actually be able to stop another couple from disappearing.”

“Is there a pattern for the couples? I’m assuming there’s at least some kind of pattern.” Dean said, taking a giant sip from his mug.

“From what I can tell, all the couples started out as best friends who eventually ended up together.” He explained. “The last five couples have all been a man and a woman.”

“Sounds a little similar to that Vanir case me and Y/N worked while you were off on your little escapade with Meg trying to find dad.” Dean said, Sam simply rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Y/N, do you think she’d be willing to come and help us out? You and her seem to almost fit the profile. Except for the parts where you guys aren’t from that town or together yet.”

“No, we aren’t going to ask her to help us.” Sam closed his laptop, getting up from the kitchen table with his empty mug.

Dean looked at Sam, raising a brow in confusion. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Sam scoffed. “Let’s see, oh yeah, she quit hunting Dean. I’m not dragging her back into something that she was actually able to get out of.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam quickly stopped him. “No Dean.” He said before leaving the room.

“Don’t worry brother, I got you.” Dean mumbled to himself as he started to dial your phone number.

It’s been years since you had talked to or seen either of the Winchester boys. It was something that you had told yourself that you needed to do in order to stay out of hunting completely, despite how much it killed you inside not to talk to them. To be far though, the Winchester’s weren’t the only ones that you had cut out, you had cut out all of your hunting contacts. The Winchester’s though, were the contacts that had hurt you the most to cut out; they were like family to you once. So many times over the years you had pictured yourself calling them up, asking them how they were, but you had stopped yourself – you didn’t want to get dragged back in to a life that you were thankful that you made it out of.

You hadn’t seen the boys in almost four years, the last time you had seen or talked to them was when Sam had said yes to Lucifer. The only reason you had known Sam had come back from the pit was because Dean had left you a voicemail. “Sam’s back Y/N…He’s…He’s back…I know you quit hunting but…I just wanted you to know.” The voicemail from Dean was short, sweet, and to the point. Upon hearing it, there was a thousand thoughts running around in your mind, unsure of what to do. You had wanted to call Dean back, asking him where he was so you could come and meet him; so you could see Sam again. But it had been over a year, a year of not hunting, a year of coming to terms that you were never going to see Sam again, a year of regretting not admitting your feelings. As much as it hurt you not to call, you knew that it was for the best.

“I know it’s no secret the way I feel about you Y/N, and I know that you feel the same way about me.” Sam had said to you, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “Before I say yes, I wanted to tell you how…out loud…how I felt about you.” He leaned down, inches away from your lips; you had felt your breath hitch.

“Sam…” You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t, you had found yourself just staring into his eyes the same way he had been staring into yours.

“I love you Y/N.” Sam admitted.

There was a strong part of you that day that had wanted to admit to him how much you deeply loved him, how he was the first person you had let yourself be able to fall in love with. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit to him, even then, when you knew that it would be your only chance to tell him how you had felt.

You were sitting in your living room, watching TV with a hot cup of tea in hand watching some random cooking show. It was a simple pleasure that you had found once you had decided to stop hunting; never really being interested in them before when you were on the road. You felt your phone vibrate next to you, and you felt yourself jump slightly, not expecting a phone call from anyone – especially since it was your day off from work. Looking at the caller ID, you felt your heart skip: Dean Winchester. A name that you thought you would never see again grace your caller ID.

You were hesitant to pick it up at first, afraid of the reason as to why he was calling you. You had hoped that he was just calling to catch up, and not inform you that Sam was dead. You sighed, bracing yourself. “Hey Dean.”

“Hey Y/N. Long time no talk.” Dean said, his voice sounding incredibly joyful. Upon hearing that, you felt your body start to become less tense, as you had hoped that Dean wouldn’t be sounding this happy if Sam were dead.

“Not a hunter remember?” You said. “So…why are you calling?” You heard Dean sigh on the other end. “Dean?”

“I uh…I was calling to ask if you could help me and Sammy out on a case. It’s about an hour away from you and…you and Sammy seem to fit the vic profile.” Dean explained; at least he was upfront about his intentions.

“Dean…” You sighed, trying your best to try and come up with a reason as to why you couldn’t go, since ‘not a hunter anymore’ was something that Dean clearly was not understanding. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” It seemed as though for some reason, Dean wasn’t giving a choice not to say no to hunting with him and Sam.

“Fine. Where do you want me to meet you guys?”

“I can’t believe you dragged Y/N into this.” Sam said, his voice clearly sounding frustrated.

“You’ll thank me later brother.” Dean grinned.

The boys were currently inside of a local diner, Dean had told you to meet them at the diner around 9, and it was currently 8:45. Knowing how punctual you were, he knew that you would be strolling into the diner any minute now. As if almost on cue, the diner bell rang on the entrance door, and Dean couldn’t help but look at Sam, giving him the biggest grin. “Your lover’s here.” Dean joked. Sam turned around quickly to look at you. Despite not being able to see your face, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ready to burst out of his chest. As if you could hear him, you had turned around just then to face him, giving him a small smile. Upon doing this, Sam quickly turned around, re-facing Dean.

Once Sam turned around, Dean saw how your face that once had a smile, turned slightly sad. “I think you hurt her feelings.” Dean said, taking a large bit from his pancakes.

“Great. She hasn’t even been here five minutes and I’m already making her upset.” Sam mumbled.

“Hey boys.” You said, walking up to the table. As soon as he heard your voice, Sam looked up at you; your face turning into a slight smile again. “Can I sit?” You asked, pointing to the seat next to Dean.

“Su-” Dean began to say as he started moving over.

“You can…You can sit here.” Sam said, moving over.

“Thanks.” You said, your voice sounding awkward as you took a spot next to Sam. “So…tell me more about why you boys dragged me into being bait.”

“I’m sorry again. Truly.” Sam said, his words were sincere. Whenever he spoke to you, you always believed every single thing that he had said to you, despite knowing his tells when he was lying. He had grabbed the zipper that was on the bottom of your dress, slowly starting to zip you up. His hand was going a lot slower than you had expected him to go; but you weren’t complaining – the brief contact was enough for you. “I asked Dean not to drag you into this but…you’re the only one that…remotely fits the profile with…me.” His last sentence almost seemed as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“It’s alright.” You hoped your voice had sounded just as sincere as his, but you knew it probably didn’t. As much as you didn’t mind helping out the boys, you were more upset that they had dragged you out of retirement.

Once he finished zipping you up, his hands had found themselves placed on your shoulders as the two of you briefly stared at each other in the mirror. “It’s not.” He stated. “You were able to get out, it’s…it’s not fair to bring you back in.”

You turned around, leaning up against the bathroom counter, his hands moving themselves to either side of your waist on the counter. “Sam…” You began, looking up at him, your hand playing with the bottom of his tie.

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning down a bit.

There was so much that you had wanted to tell him in that moment. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t say it all those years ago.” Was what you had wanted to say. But the only thing that came out was, “I-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before the bathroom door had opened, revealing Dean who was currently fixing his tie – you and Sam looking at the older Winchester like a deer in headlights.

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?” He smirked.

“Nope,” you said, straightening yourself up; Sam removing his hands from the counter to let you go. “Not at all.” You finished, moving past Dean quickly as you exited the bathroom, leaving Sam there by himself.

“Well, I’d be more than happy to show you around.” The woman said, slightly grabbing at Sam’s tie, almost in a similar fashion as you had done before in the bathroom.

Sam chuckled nervously. “I uh…I don’t think my girlfriend would be uh…particularly happy about that.” He said, making a gesture toward you, his voice nervous. The woman followed his gaze, and they both laid their eyes on you happily laughing away with one of her guests, your hand gently caressing his shoulder. The woman couldn’t tell if the motion you were doing was flirty or not – a part of her was jealous. Sam knew what you were doing, the motion wasn’t remotely romantic, it was just something you naturally did whenever you spoke to people – especially people you had wanted to get information out of.

The woman turned back, no longer looking at you, but more intensely looking at Sam. “She would never need to know.” She winked, her voice sounding more seductive now.

“Listen, Missus –” Sam began to say.

“It’s Miss.” The woman corrected.

“Miss. Clayton –”

In that moment, before he could continue, Sam had seen you walking toward him and the woman with two glasses of champagne in your hands. He had felt such a relief. “I’m so sorry honey. But Mister Baxter over there was just telling me about his classic car collection. Did you know he has over twenty classic cars?” You tried your best to feign interest, as you handed Sam one of the champagne glasses. “Oh!” You said quickly, turning toward the woman. “You must be Missus Clayton.” You held out your hand.

“Miss Clayton.” She corrected, removing her hand from Sam’s tie to shake yours.

“Did you fix my boyfriend’s tie here? It did look a little messy before.” You asked, full well knowing that was not what she was doing. Despite it looking like you had your full attention talking to Mister Baxter, you were also able to have your attention on everything that Sam had been doing. Part of being an effective hunter especially when it came to working with partners, is that you had to make sure that you were keeping an eye out on all of your surroundings.

“Oh yes, yes.” She lied. “I think it looks much better now.” Her voice nervous. “You said Mister Baxter has a classic car collection with over twenty cars?” You nodded. “I think I’m going to go and talk to him about that.”

As soon as she was out of earshot you began speaking to Sam. “You get hit on a lot?” You asked, genuinely curious. “I’ve counted at least four or five women that have hit on you since we talked into the door.” You looked down at your watch. “And we’ve only been here less than an hour.” You took a sip of your champagne. “Makes a girl little jealous.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sometimes. But, not nearly as often as it’s been here.” He admitted, he too taking a sip from his drink. “I hate to change the subject but, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” You were afraid of what he was about to ask.

“What were you going to say in the bathroom earlier?” You took a large sip of your drink, this was the last thing that you had wanted to talk about right now, especially during a case.

“You clean up nice.” You lied.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, slightly sounding disappointed.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath. “Something I should have said to you years ago.” You started playing with the rim of your glass, no longer making eye contact with Sam.

“What?” He asked, even though he had a pretty good idea about what you were going to say to him.

“I love you Sam.” You finally admitted. There was a part of you that had felt relieved to have finally said it, but yet, there was a knot in your stomach. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it all those years ago. I just…I wanted to but…” You looked down at your glass, your drink half full. “I don’t know I just…Froze.”

“Hey,” he began, tilting your chin up to make you look at him. “You don’t have to apologize.” There was no reason for you to in his mind, despite the way you had felt. When he had told you that he loved you all those years ago, yes, he had wanted you to say it back, but there was another part of him that also didn’t expect you to say it back. For him, just telling you how he felt was enough for him.

“I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore but…I just needed to tell you.” You weren’t sure if it was already too late to tell him how you felt; it had already been four years.

“My feelings for you never changed.” He admitted, his admission slightly surprised you; as you were expecting him to tell you ‘thank you for telling me, but I no longer feel the same.’

“They haven’t?” You asked, surprised.

He shook his head. He moved his hand now, so it was slightly cupping your face. “No,” he began. “No matter how much time has passed, my feelings for you will never and can never change.”

Your lips were inches away from each other now. You could slightly smell the champagne on his breath. “You mean it?” You asked, making sure that his words were as sincere as they always had been.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“By the way,” the two of you leaned in closer. Although you two weren’t the only ones in the room, in that moment, it was simply just the two of you and no one else. “You and me…” You slightly struggled to get the words out. “We’ve always been endgame in my mind.”

“Mine too.” He agreed, closing the ever so tiny gap now that was between the two of you with a kiss. An action that he had wanted to do for as long as he had known you, an action that you had wanted to do as well.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #sam x you #sam x reader #female reader #reader insert

[hanniluvi]

( 📞 ) LOVERS’ TV — JUNGWON SHORT FIC

[ DAY ONE ] of the advent calendar !

( 📞 ) NOW CALLING . . . a christmas movie night with your lover was a great idea, until someone fell asleep before the movie could end…

( ꕤ ) NOW PAIRING . . . bf!jungwon x gn!reader

( 📞 ) NOW GENRES . . . fluff, established relationship

( ꕤ ) NOW WARNINGS . . . none i think ~~ WC 600+ !

( 📞 ) NOW HANGING UP . . . first fic for the winter mlist yay !! with jungwon being the first idol i ever made a fic about , i just had to make him the first day for this event 🫶 !!

You've long dreamt of having a movie night, especially the idea of binge-watching Christmas films with someone special. Jungwon holds that idea in mind—he never forgets what you want. Eager to be the best partner he can be, he’s all in for sharing the activities you've been wishing for, like this movie night.

The only problem was that he was on a trip, being far apart from you. What stung more was that he wouldn’t be around for the initial days of December; he was due to return mid-month. However, he's known for making efforts just for you.

So, how about an online movie date?

He was really excited about this idea because he was still able to bond with you overseas in a special way. And to his excitement, you thought it was also a great idea, having the movie night happen at 8 PM—well, in your timezone. Despite the huge time zone differences, Jungwon set the date night that could fit within your schedule.

And with that, the hours quickly flew by, and with Jungwon setting up his laptop. He stared at the time eagerly, watching it hit 8 PM, calling you at that exact time. You quickly answered, and he had the brightest smile on his face.

“Hi,” you said as you got yourself comfortable in your bed, setting your laptop onto your lap. “Hey love,” you heard that sweet tone in his voice, making you break into a smile. You looked at the screen, looking at your boyfriend in a gray hoodie, fiddling around with the strings of it. “What movie do you want to watch?”

"Hm…Oh! How about watching 'The Nightmares Before Christmas?'" you suggested enthusiastically, noticing your boyfriend's questionable expression. "I heard that movie was more on the scary side rather than Christmassy..."

"It can't be something you can't handle!" you assured him, which he eventually agreed to share his screen and stream the movie.

"I'll trust your word on it."

"Lying down was not a good idea," Jungwon admitted as he felt his eyelids growing heavy. No matter how many times he rubbed his eyes or blinked repeatedly, drowsiness weighed heavily on him. He let out a yawn, drawing your attention.

“Jungwon?” You interrupted his yawn, slightly surprising him as if you caught him doing something terrible.

“Yeah?”

“You tired?”

“Just getting myself comfortable, that’s all.”

“What time is it for you?”

"2:30 A.M," he glanced at the clock, instantly regretting revealing he was up at such a late hour. He might have gotten away with it if he'd said it was 10 PM, but no, he had to ruin his cover. Oh how ready he was for another scolding.

“Jungwon!” You stared at the screen, watching him awkwardly scratch the back of his head. “Why are you even up at this time?”

“Because you wanted to have a movie night, and I wanted to spend the first few days of December with you—and I picked a timezone suitable for you.” He confessed, and you just couldn’t help but have a smile. “It just didn’t work out on my end…I guess?”

“Won, I appreciate that, but shouldn’t you be asleep right now? I mean, we can always pause the movie and continue next time—you’ve got things to do tomorrow.” you suggested. However, he was set on finishing the movie that night. You knew Jungwon well enough to realize he was determined, and so you both continued watching.

But as anticipated, once Jungwon settled into a comfortable position, it was inevitable that he'd fall asleep. Within ten minutes, there was no longer any commentary about the movie.

“Won?” you whispered loud enough, noticing he didn’t move a single bit. Smiling at his peaceful appearance, you paused the movie and ended the call, already feeling his absence.

You opened the messaging app and began typing with a playful smirk,

Who said we had to finish the movie tonight?

You, but you feel asleep! It’s okay though, we can always watch together next time!

And maybe, you won’t doze off <3

You shut your laptop, rolling onto your side and tugging the blanket closer. Sleep was much needed, not only for rest but also to ensure you'd have extra time to see Jungwon in the morning, you figured.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

#⛄️ — advent calendar 23’ ! #k-labels #kflixnet #en-web #enhablr #k-films #enhypen #enhypen jungwon #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #jungwon headcanons #jungwon scenarios #jungwon imagines #jungwon drabbles #jungwon x reader #jungwon fic #jungwon ff #kpop #kpop headcanons #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop x reader #kpop ff #kpop fic

[sweetestofchaos]

Forehead Kisses With Stray Kids...Again

Backstory: As you get ready to leave for work, he doesn’t make a move to kiss you goodbye.

pairing: skz x gn!reader

tw: none, pure fluff

wc: 1.1k

a/n: I wrote this...and forgot that I already had forehead kisses with them...so here is another version lmfao. line/heart divider and support divider made by @benkeibear

Chan - It might have been early in the morning but when you shout that you’re heading to work, you expect for Chris to come give you a kiss. After a few moments of waiting for him at the front door, you pout and toe your shoes off. You walk farther into the apartment and find that Chris is sitting in front of his laptop with headphones on at your shared desk. You sigh with a shake of your head but all the more endeared. You walk over to him and place your hands on Chris’ shoulders gently before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Chris pulls his headphones down around his neck and tilts his head back with a smile. You grin and peck his lips whispering your goodbye and Chris kisses you again, trailing his hand to the back of your neck as he kisses you upside down.

“Have a good day at work, baby. Love you.”

Minho - You announce that you’re heading to work as you pass Minho who is on the floor cleaning his shoes. You backtrack your steps and slide your hand underneath Minho’s chin before you tilt his head back and press a kiss right in the middle of his forehead. He smiles shyly and wraps his fingers around your wrist before he pulls you down closer to his face.

Minho pecks your lips as he cups your cheek in his hand and mutters his love as he teases you.

“Did you really try to leave without a proper kiss?”

Changbin - You can hear Changbin in the kitchen, looking for whatever to make himself breakfast. Stepping into the kitchen, you smile at your boyfriend when you see his face still puffy with sleep. He hasn’t seen you yet, eyes too focused on their search for food. You giggle to yourself and walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Changbin jumps from your sudden touch and melts into your body. Turning in your hold, he hugs you and buries his face in your neck. He peppers little kisses along your neck and cheek, missing your lips. To which you retaliate by pressing a firm kiss to his forehead and pushing him away.

“Yah! I wasn’t finished!” 

Han - You thought Jisung was still sleeping when you were ready to head to work. Not wanting him to wake up confused as to where you were, you quickly wrote a note and headed back into the bedroom to set it on the nightstand. Han was wide awake, pulling on one of his hoodies. You smiled and walked over to him. You pushed his hoodie from his face along with his bangs and pressed a sweet kiss onto his forehead.

As you pulled away his eyes were wide and wet, lips spread in a wide smile as he stared at you, confused but happy nonetheless. He pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead as well before hugging you tighter.

“How are you so cute this early, huh?”

Seungmin - You could feel Seungmin’s eyes on you the whole time as you were getting ready to leave for work. Your shoes were placed by the door and your bag sat on the kitchen table, holding your lunch for the day. You ignored Seungmin’s eyes as you finished your morning drink and set the cup in the sink.

From the couch you heard Seungmin call your name and you turned with your arms crossed over your chest while he just sat there with a wide smile on his handsome face. You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and started over to him. He lifted his face upward as you got closer, his lips slightly puckered and you smiled softly. You kissed his forehead and Seungmin was quick to grab your sides, pulling you down into his lap to give you a real kiss.

“Wanna try that again, yeah?”

Felix - From the sweet aroma in the air of freshly baked brownies, you know that Felix has to be in the kitchen or near there. You glance at the watch on your wrist and you have a few moments to spare for your boyfriend. Skipping around the corner, you crash into Felix and he is quick to catch you in his arms, so that you don’t fall on your eyes. A brownie is hanging from his lips and you giggle at how cute he looks. 

Leaning up, you press a kiss to his forehead and as you pull away, Felix grabs the brownie from his mouth. Chewing quickly he smiles as he swallows the sweet treat.

“Can I get a real kiss?”

Hyunjin - “Jinnie, I'm leaving for work!” You call out from the end of the hallway. The door to his art room is open and you hear him curse before he calls out for you to have a good day. Well that isn’t good enough in your book. You walk down the hall with your shoes in your hands and push open the door. Hyunjin is sitting in front of a canvas with a stick of charcoal in his hand.

You walk up beside him and bend down, so that your face is level with his. You call his name and when he turns to face you, you press a quick kiss to his forehead. Hyunjin presses his lips into a thin line before he turns his face away and gives you the side eye.

“Since when were you so cute?”

Jeongin - As you were putting on your shoes, you heard the toilet flush some deeper in your apartment. The sound of a door clicking open and shut made you smile to yourself. Looks like Jeongin was up to start his day. You called out to him that you were leaving and waited for a for moments, expecting to see him sleepy face come around the corner to kiss you goodbye. When that didn’t happen you pouted and removed your shoes to walk into the apartment. 

You peaked into your shared bedroom and Jeongin was laying in bed, tapping away at his phone. “I’m leaving, Innie,” You call and Jeongin’s eyes widen as he sees you standing in the door. He sits up and makes grabby hands at you which makes you laugh and walk over to the bed. Once in his arms, you run your fingers through his wild hair and place a tender kiss to his forehead. Jeongin hums his happiness and snuggles into your neck before he pecks your lips softly.

“I missed breakfast with you. Should I stop by for lunch?”

#stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz fluff #skz x gn reader #skz x reader #bang chan #lee know #changbin #jeongin #han #lee felix #hyunjin #seungmin #soc stray kids

[pervysenpaix]

Friends ... Have you ever thought about TechSupport!Kirishima, that's too fucking hot to be a computer nerd? Like you were completely taken aback when you saw his massive cock muscles. And like-wouldn't it be even crazier if y/n was kinda idk .... pervy 🥴

Masterlist

18+NSFW|MDNI tw!AgedUp, dubcon?, pervyfem!reader, use of "spunk"😍, pussy drunk Kirishima, breeding, overstimulation, spitting, Kiri is a good boy

Imagine spending hours researching and compiling data for a report that’s due in the morning and just when you’re about to submit it into the database, the screen goes blank. You’ve literally been staring at a screen for hours. Crunching numbers and gathering evidence just for all your hard work to disappear.

What do you even feel in this moment? Nausea? Dread? Disappointment?

Anger.

Pure unadulterated anger that has you screaming at your monitor and throwing your stapler against the wall—which leaves at not-so-subtle hole that would definitely be coming out of your paycheck.

If I even still have a job in the morning.

Irritation bubbles underneath your skin in a way that has you fidgeting in your seat. Manicured fingers tap against the mahogany wood of your desk and the foot of your Louboutin pump digs into the carpet. Being the youngest executive at such an elite firm led to an overwhelming amount of pressure. Not to mention being the only woman on the board—that presented difficulties in itself. It’s like your male peers were just waiting for you to fuck up. Just prove yourself as the incompetent bimbo that’s no more than in office eye candy. Fuck—they were gonna have a field day with this.

You stared at the blank screen in utter defeat, thinking of how you’ll walk out of the boardroom carrying a box filled with office supplies and snacks in a dignified manner. Then, it hit you—a potential solution to your problem. The computer nerds in the IT department!

You nearly broke a nail lunging for your cellphone and placing the emergency order. The disinterested voice claiming to send someone “soon” had you a bit worried, but to your surprise there was a knock on your door five minutes later.

“Come in!” You chirped hopefully, praying that this scrawny little—

Wait a minute.

Is there a football tryout or something that you didn’t know about ?

“Hi there, I’m Kirishima. Nice to meet you. I hear you’re having some trouble with your laptop?”

Your jaw hit the floor when the 6’6 giant crouched over the threshold and into your office because there’s no way that this big brute of a man was some tech savant.

Well—brute might not be the right word. This guy had the sunniest disposition. Bright red hair pulled into a low ponytail. Radiant ruby eyes with flecks of blue that shimmered against the fluorescent lights. A gentle voice that was deep yet calming. And his smile–sharp pointy teeth that were perfectly aligned and sparkling white, framed by the plushest set of pink lips that you’ve ever seen. So, brute might not be the best word to describe this guy. At least not from the neck up. But from the neck down…

Well, that was a different story.

The man was MASSIVE. Everything about him was big. And I do mean everything. That thin light blue polo and tight khaki slacks held little to the imagination. The fabric was stretched so tight over the expanse of muscle it looked as if it was painted on. To make matters worse, you could make out the faintest lines of black ink peaking underneath his sleeve and slightly above his collar hinting at some ornate chest plate that made him impossibly more desirable.

“You work in IT?” Kirishima winced at the accusatory tone and scratched the back of his head. “Heh-yeah. I know I’m a little young. I just started today but I promise I can get the job done!” He chuckled nervously, completely oblivious to the fact that you weren’t confused by his age. Hell—he looked to be about the same age of you and you’d never discriminate on someone based on their age. Or anything at all for that matter. It just that—he’s so hot.

Oh fuck, well now I’m no better than the assholes I work with.

“No. No. I was just a little taken aback is all.” You threw your hands up and smiled, which made him visibly relax, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’m kind of counting on it”. Kirishima nodded with a bright smile plastered on his face and headed towards your workstation.

The redhead had the issue resolved in a matter of minutes. Saving you from corporate humiliation and help wanted ads. You were so happy you could kiss him—which is exactly what you said and turned him into a flustered mess. “I- Me- No- that’s just my job!” His voice cracked and he flushed a deeper shade of red that crawled up his neck and covered his cheeks and ears. He was so embarrassed. Is blushing considered manly? But what man in their right mind wouldn’t get nervous around such a gorgeous woman.

Everything about you was perfect. First and foremost, you were this powerful exec who had to be some sort of genius because there’s no way that you were older than him. Then all the other stuff. Beautiful face. Angelic voice. Sweet laugh. Kind smile. A plush body that looked so soft—

“Kirishima?” your bubbly voice yanked him from his brief, and slightly inappropriate, departure from reality. It’s not okay for him to think of his higher ups like that. No matter how sweet your perfume smells or how tiny you are compared to him. He just got this job and there’s no way he could fuck it up by being unprofessional. So, he cleared his throat and said his goodbyes. Hoping to keep his interactions with you to a minimum, lest he be tempted…

But you had other plans.

You see it’s hard being a successful businesswoman and finding a guy that checks all your boxes. The guys you worked with were all arrogant assholes who made jokes about you being their housewife. But Kirishima was so different! He revered you and always treated you with the upmost respect. A perfect gentleman that never stepped out of line no matter how hard you pushed him.

All those urgent calls that you sent in requesting him specifically because “he was such a good worker”. When actually all you wanted was to watch his red brows furrow when he scratched his head trying to figure out how you managed to get 17 different malware prompts that each lead to some dead end. Little did he know, you asked your best friend Mina to send some codes your way that would give you a chance to ogle the redhead cutie. Pushing up against him while you peered over his shoulder and pretended to be interested in how he was fixing something you’d purposely broken.

It was fun too.

He always got so nervous and flustered. He’d avert his eyes and not so discreetly adjust himself when your soft breasts pushed against his skin. Sometimes he’d audibly gulp when you’d run your French tipped nails down his toned arm. His attraction was obvious, but he never made any moves. So, one day you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Wow—I’ve never seen anything like this. Your motherboard is completely fried. We might need to get you a whole new set up”. A theatrical gasp sounded from your chest. “Oh no, That’s awful!” You exclaimed, as if you didn’t disassemble the whole thing and drench it in iced coffee before you called him over. “Yeah—he shook his head, “but it’s not too big of a deal. I’ll just run over to the tech department grab everything”. You hummed, biting your lip, and chewing on the tip of a pen in a way that shouldn’t have made his pants tight. God—he hoped you didn’t notice, but of course you did.

“Hey, Kirishima… Why don’t I come with you? I can help you carry everything”. His eyes widened comically, completely taken aback at the thought of your tiny self lifting more than a finger. “Oh no! It’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt”. You pouted, fingers twirling around a tendril of hair and took a step closer to him, so that the two of you were standing chest to chest. “Well at least let me keep you company”.

The wet squelching of your sopping cunt reverberated off the walls lewdly paired by your sultry moans and Kirishima’s muffled grunts. Saliva spilled between your fingers from where your hand was pressed against his mouth that hung open in ecstasy. Big hands found purchase on the globes of your ass, not so much guiding—more like holding on for dear life while rode his dick. Bodies pressed together like the pieces of a puzzle in the cramped space of the equipment room.

Vermillion stands fell freely against his tanned skin and clung to the sweat beading against his flesh. Slowly—you whined your waist, drawing circles against the meaty cock that was bruising your cervix. A shudder ran down the redhead’s spine and his hips spasmed up into your heat, making your core clench around him. Slick saturated his thighs, pooling in the tufts of curly black pubes nestled above his engorged balls.

Leaning back slightly—you rolled your hips at a new angle that pushed and pulled Kirishima’s dick simultaneously. He whimpered loudly against your hand. Too pussy drunk to care about getting caught fucking his superior in the middle of the day. “Shh-“ you cooed, tightening the hand against his mouth. “You have to be quiet, baby. You can be a good boy for me, yeah?”. He nodded immediately, fighting the intense urge to scream your name because he was so willing to prove his obedience. Be your good boy. You chuckled, cunt spasming at the desperation in his red eyes. You’d never felt so desired. The way Kirishima gazed upon your face made you feel like some masterfully crafted work of art. It was like you were the only girl in the world. The only thing that mattered to him was your beautiful face and angelic cunt, milking his balls dry and bouncing on his dick to the point of overstimulation.

Tears fell from his eyes and his heart beat in time with each wet slap of your cunt. Even though your pussy was so filled with spunk that it dribbled down your legs—you never stopped bouncing. Cupping his balls with your free hand to squeeze him dry. You moved your hand just in time to hear his pornographic moan as his hips stuttered, shooting blanks into your gushy center.

He looked so pretty. Eyes rolled to the back of his head and mouth hung open with drool on the sides. Never one to miss out on a great opportunity—you leaned forward and slowly dribbled saliva down his throat, which he swallowed hungrily. It was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. Moaning and whispering words of praise while Kirishima whined and whimpered your name.

You clung to one another for what felt like hours before the red head broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“So umm—would you like to maybe go on a date?”

Taglist| @xogabbiexo, @yo-nn, @plussizeficchick, @bookwormsenpai,@tenyaiidasslut, @dabilovesme, @erenyeagerswhore, @tsukihime25, @nasty-quillz, @namjoonswifeyy, @7inaa, @m00nchildthings, @blkchxrryblyss, @38riku

If you don't want to be tagged, dm me and i'll remove you.

#eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima thirst #mha kirishima #kirishima x black reader #eijirou smut #kirishima smut #kirishima x chubby reader #mha x black reader #mha smut #mha x chubby reader

[int-writersmind]

The Quid Pro Quo

Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)

Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭

Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.

It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late. 

You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.

God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-

“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.

You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.

“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”

“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone,  A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”

“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”

“What about theories huh?”

“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”

“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”

Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.

 Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness. 

“You ok?” Peter asks.

You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.

“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”

“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.

“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”

“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”

He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”

Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein. 

~

“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”

“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.

You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”

“But…”

“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”

“You got all of that from my paper?”

“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”

“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”

“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”

You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”

“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”

Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”

Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.

Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”

You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”

Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”

~

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”

“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.” 

“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”

You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”

A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.

You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”

“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”

You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”

You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.

“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.

“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”

“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”

“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”

“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red. 

He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.

“Shoot.”

“Can I kiss you first?”

Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.

You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”

Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance. 

The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.

He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.

“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”

“You have no idea…” 

He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. 

You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running. 

“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”

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Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!

masterlist

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #insomniac spider man #insomniac peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker x y/n #ps4!​Peter Parker x reader #spider man 2 ps5 #ps5!peter parker x reader #spiderman remastered #peter parker fluff #insomniac!Peter Parker #insomniac!peter parker x reader

[the-little-ewok]

Hard at work

Santiago Garcia X F!Reader

Rating : E/18+

Word count : 3800 (ish)

Warnings : SMUT, office setting (power play dynamics), PIV, unprotected sex, fingering, Dom!Santi (pretty soft), oral (f/receiving), lil bit dirty talk, reader wears a skirt, fluff, semi public sex (I guess. But not really?), Marking, *additional warnings under the fic at the end because spoilers ( nothing bad)

Prompts / summary : “I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.”, "I think I've made my intentions clear", "Noone needs to know" / Santiago Garcia is your boss. And you should absolutely not be fucking your boss on his desk during the work day…

A/N : I've chosen to put some warnings at the end of the fic as I want to keep a couple of surprises. Nothing bad or super triggering I promise. But if you are worried please check before you read.

Thank you Vi for the hilarious tongue in cheek title 😂 and to the anon who requested!

Please if you read take time to reblog and maybe leave a comment or a couple of tags! The only way writers keep writing is if they hear from you.

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Ping

S. Gacia: I need to talk to you in my office. Now.

You stare at the message on your computer screen, debating if you could think of a good enough excuse not to go, unsure if you could keep your composure when you were alone with your boss today.

It wasn't that you were avoiding him exactly. You liked your boss, you really did. He was hard working, fair, supportive, maybe a little demanding at times, well, actually demanding all the time, but he was hot, in a sort of 'your daughter calls me daddy too' kinda way. He had the eye of every girl in the office, yours included. Most people would be glad to have a boss like him.

The problem was he always seemed to find an excuse to be inappropriate with you — pressing up against you as he leans over you to get a coffee mug out of the cupboard in the break room, brushing his hand against your thigh during meetings, looking at you, and not just a normal look, a complete undressing eye fuck that made your face heat and your thighs press together. He made you want him all the damn time.

And while so far nothing has happened at work, everyone else in the office has noticed the growing situation between you. Disappearing away from your pc to meet with him would only add fuel to the fire.

Ping.

S. Garcia : When I say now, I mean now.

With no good excuses coming to mind you get up with a sigh, smoothing down your skirt and making your way over to his office.

The door is pushed open already, Santiago sitting at his desk, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons undone, giving an air of relaxedness, but you can tell he's anything but. Your heart gives a now all too familiar flutter in your chest.

"Mr Garcia?"

You tap the door lightly to get his attention. He gestures you in with a silent wave of his hand, barely looking away from the laptop as you step into the room.

"One moment, and shut the door" he instructs you, tapping away at the keys and muttering in Spanish to himself. You swallow hard as you close the door behind you.

Eventually, your boss sighs, rubbing his hands down his face and shutting his laptop.

"Is everything okay?" You venture inquisitively. Perhaps whatever has frustrated him is the reason he called you in here? Maybe he needs your help with work?

Santiago gets up from his desk, coming around to stand in front of you, just a few steps from where you awkwardly shuffle your feet, waiting for him to speak.

"We need to talk."

You can't help but go through a mental rolodex of things you might have done that you need to talk about with him, but nothing comes to mind.

"I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional," he continues, leaning back against the polished wood with a sigh, as though it's your fault, as though you've done something to encourage him. Perhaps you have. You did specifically pick this outfit today, hoping it would spark his attention, and as his eyes roam a slow trail from your toes to your face, licking his lips, you know it worked, but maybe a little too well.

You choose the innocence card, pretending there hasn't been an underlying tension since you started working together.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

He doesn't even hesitate for a second before he answers, clearly expecting your response. His dark eyes bore into yours, blatant desire shining through.

"I think you are."

You swallow hard. Sure you might have hoped to get a reaction out of him, but you hadn't actually expected it to work. Especially not when there were specific rules in place about office relationships, especially during work hours.

"No one needs to know," he offers slickly, like putting a deal on the table, some form of forbidden contract. He steps towards you, then around you, coming to stand at your back, close enough that you can feel the warmth from his body.

He leans into you, gripping your upper arms and then slowly allowing his palms to slide down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers.

"It's just us in here. Nobodys going to know what happens here today." His hands ghost over the tips of your fingers, continuing down, stepping closer so his body is pressed up against yours.

"Mr Garcia, I don't think this is the time. We have…we have… work to do." You stutter out as his hands map the curve of your hips, pressing himself against your back. Even as you speak your body leans back against him, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, betraying your every thought about him. You can almost feel the smug smile he's probably wearing, knowing he was right in his assumption that this isn't one sided, and that you really aren't thinking about the work piled on your desk.

Your eyes flutter closed as he presses a trail of kisses down your neck, before his tongue licks its way back up to take your earlobe in his teeth, tugging gently.

"Work can wait. I think I've made my intentions clear," he breathes against your skin. He says it like you have a choice about what happens next. Like there's any possible world in which you would say no.

But you aren't going to let him have the upper hand entirely. You can't just collapse into his arms and beg him to fuck you. He might be your boss, but that doesn't mean you can't have your own fun too.

"I'm really not sure I understand what you mean? Perhaps you'll have to be a little more direct, sir."

There's a hitch in his breath that lets you know the sir hit exactly the way you expected it to.

What you aren't quite expecting is the way he nudges you forward before pressing a hand between your shoulders, forcing you down, bending over his desk. The touch isn't violent or forceful, he isn't the sort of man to do that, but it's commanding enough for you to willingly follow the direction.

Taking both your hands in his he presses them down onto the desk, leaning over you.

"I can make my intentions as clear as you need," he growls, standing back up. "Don't move, or you're fired."

You'd like to think you know him well enough that it's probably an empty threat, but damn does it make your pussy flutter anyway. You press your palms harder against the cool wood, resigned to let him do as he wills with you.

His hands slip across your hips and down over your ass, admiring your position, before he hooks his fingers under the edge of your skirt and raises it, just a little. He's testing you. It's a silent request about how far you want this to go.

You don't move to stop him, so he lifts your skirt the rest of the way, almost delicately slowly, hitching it up over your hips.

He gives a soft hum of appreciation at the pretty lace panties you're wearing, the ones already starting to soak through with your arousal at the fact your boss has you bent over his desk, admiring your ass.

"Pretty," he drawls, pulling back the elastic and letting it snap against your skin, giving a stinging bite and making you gasp. "Not very work appropriate though."

You open your mouth to offer a sarcastic response that people at work don't usually see your panties, but the words catch in your throat as he slides his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down quickly, letting them fall the rest of the way, fully exposing you.

Not satisfied with that, he uses his foot to tap your ankle, encouraging you to lift first one foot, then the other, stepping out of your panties before he kicks them to one side.

"Spread your legs."

If you weren't wet before the gush of arousal you have at his words certainly soaks you now. It isn't a question, it isn't a request, it's an instruction, a command. You spread your legs just a little.

Santiago nudges them further apart with his foot, spreading you for his benefit, before he grabs your ass, squeezing as he surveys you with a groan.

"You're practically dripping on my carpet," he comments, making your face heat.

You hear the whisper of fabric and glancing behind you you see him kneel on the floor, his hands dropping to your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh.

He meets your shocked gaze.

"Now let me be very, very clear in what I want."

The broken noise that leaves your throat as he licks a hot stripe through your folds isn't one you've ever made before, your body jolting forward on the desk.

Your rational brain tells you this is a bad idea. You should be working, not letting your boss eat you out on his desk of all places. But then he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard, and you can't seem to care about work anymore.

You quickly realise he's too good at this, too good at making you tremble all too quickly, taking long slow laps at your clit, pressing his hot tongue deep inside you, growling and groaning as though you were the best thing he's tasted. He has you on the edge of a climax in no time.

Your fingers dig into the hardwood, curling around the edge of the desk, biting out a curse as his tongue completes another slow circle around your clit.

You wish you could see him, tangle your fingers in his short curls, direct him how to throw you over the edge, but you suspect he knows exactly how, and he's dragging this out for his own pleasure.

"Mr Garcia…Santiago…" you hiccup pleadingly, barely able to get enough air in your lungs.

You don't know if it's mercy or torture when his mouth leaves you, giving a playful bite to your ass before he gets to his feet, gently tugging you up, unpeeling you off the desk, his hands on your waist, steadying you on wobbling legs as he spins you to face him.

"Clear now?" He asks, almost impatiently. His eyes are dark, your slick still shining on his chin as he makes a show of licking his lips.

"That was…pretty clear," you breathe shakily.

He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours, allowing you to taste yourself as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It's not the type of kiss you're expecting from him. He kisses you sensually, tenderly, it's slow and decadent. He lets go of your chin in order to slide his hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as his tongue slides against yours, drawing soft little moans from you.

When he pulls away your lips are kiss swollen and your fingers are tangled in his curls the way you wanted to do only moments ago.

"I want to fuck you here, on my desk," he whispers against your lips. "I want to stain the wood with your cum so there's always a part of you in here with me."

Oh fuck.

You don't answer initially, forcing down the moan of desire that tries to escape. Instead, you lift yourself up onto the desk, feeling the cool wood against your heated skin, before you curl your fingers around the white collar of his shirt, pulling him close to you. You're done waiting. You're done playing. You're done being professional.

"So fuck me already."

His mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard as you both scramble to unbuckle his pants. He's barely shoved them down before his hands are gripping your thighs, tugging you roughly forward to the edge of the desk, lining himself up at your entrance, his actions messy and impatient.

Even so, he presses into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch that borders pleasure and pain, swallowing each of your moans with his kisses, letting out a low groan as he bottoms out, giving a soft nip of his teeth to your bottom lip.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Pussy is so wet for me," he slurs, taking your chin back in his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "How much have you thought about fucking your boss you filthy girl?"

Ring. Ring.

The sharp trill of the phone cuts in, making you both pause, turning to look at it mocking you from its space next to the laptop.

Shit. No. Not now. The timing could not be any worse. You need this. You've waited too long for this.

Santiago looks at you, his gaze questioning. You shake your head, silently pleading with him not to answer, not to put an end to this yet.

He lets out a soft curse, glancing over to the phone and reading the caller ID.

"Be quiet," he hisses, leaning over you and to your shock, clicking the answer button.

You don't quite know how to react as he grabs one of your thighs, hoisting it up over his hip, forcing his cock deeper as he starts to thrust into you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you let out a choked noise, throwing a hand over your mouth to smother it, still shocked he's actually taking this call.

Santiago lets out a quiet laugh at your reaction as he speaks on the phone, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fish, what's up?"

"Just checking in on how things are going," the man on the phone answers easily, clearly unaware of the position your boss was in.

"Hard at work," Santiago answers, thrusting deeply into you with the last word, and you squeeze your eyes shut, desperately muffling your moans of pleasure.

You can't believe he's doing this, casually carrying on a conversation as he leisurely rocks into you. Your mind can't really keep up with the discussion— something about a BBQ on the weekend — too distracted in concentrating on keeping quiet, and hoping the wet squelch of your pussy isn't being picked up on the call.

You bury your face into his neck, trying not to allow the pleasure threading through you to give you both away. It's an uphill battle. Each steady thrust pushes you closer, your pussy already sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

You're not expecting it when he turns his head, his teeth biting down on your pulse point. It's just enough to send a shock through your system, making your eyes snap open, and your pussy clamp down on his cock.

Santiago's eyes go wide and it's him that lets out a choked moan, clearly far louder than he intended to. There's a beat of silence in the conversation as he scrambles for the phone receiver.

You have a moment of smug satisfaction at his panic, but the joy is fleeting, as when his eyes are back on you, smouldering and dark, phone in his hand, you realise you are in trouble. A lot of trouble.

"I'll call you back."

Click. With the press of a button the phone call ends, the receiver clattering noisily back onto the desk. Santiago's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough there will be marks.

"You shouldn't have done that."

You have a moment of panic that he's going to end this, leave you on the edge, unsatisfied, and send you back to your desk desperate and needy. But instead, he pulls almost all the way out of you, before slamming his hips into yours.

You let out a strangled moan. Every time you think he can't possibly go deeper, he angles his hips and sinks in further. You want to scramble back on the desk, give yourself a moment to breathe, to think, to process the bliss, but Santiago's hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as you fall back on your elbows, splayed out across his desk, being used solely for his pleasure.

Santiago follows your movement, bending himself over you, causing the angle of his thrusts to change just slightly and hit something bright inside you. Pens and papers clatter noisily to the floor as the desk rocks with you. In a desperate attempt to stop yourself from suddenly being pushed over the other side, you grab onto his shoulders, holding yourself in place.

There's a growing blissful ache in your pussy and muscles that lets you know you'll still feel this tomorrow.

But you don't care, you can't care. All you care about is the knot in your stomach tightening, your muscles straining, your vision whiting out. All you care about is the pleasure careening through you.

Your pussy clamps down around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as your climax bursts through you. You give all pretence at being quiet, throwing your head back as you all but scream his name, uncaring who hears.

"Fuck, Santiago!"

The clench of your pussy drags him over the edge with you, and he muffles a growl into your neck, filling you with hot bursts of cum.

He pauses there, buried deep inside you, your pussy still pulsing as you come down. Lifting his head he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands tenderly massaging your thighs, slipping up your back to pull you to sit up, holding you against him.

When he eventually pulls away, his eyes roam your face, taking in your dishevelled appearance, pressing a final gentle kiss to your lips, before he slips out of you, pulls his pants back up and disappears around the other side of the desk.

You slide off shakily, your skirt still bunched up around your waist, turning to watch him throw himself down into the office chair, your panties dangling from his fingers like a hard won prize, back to his cocky, self assured, smug self. All traces of the softness he had only moments ago, wiped away.

"You won't be needing these back," he grins, opening his top drawer to drop your panties inside, before snapping it shut, his gaze daring you to protest as you stand open mouthed.

"Can I at least have something to clean-"

"No." He cuts you off, going back to clicking through his emails on his computer.

You have the realisation that he expects you to walk back to your desk with his cum still dripping down your thighs. You imagine the stain on your skirt, on your chair, one that probably won't ever fully come out, the stain like the one currently staring at you from the wood of his desk, a constant reminder of this day.

It shouldn't make your pussy clench the way it does.

You swallow, pulling down your skirt, ignoring the slick already coating your thighs, and give him a defiant stare.

"Very well. Will that be all Mr Garcia?" You mock sarcastically. If he was going to go back to professional, then so were you.

He doesn't even glance at you as he answers, dismissing you as though nothing has happened.

"For now. But don't go far. I don't think it will be long before I need to see you again."

You suppress a smile as you leave.

~

"Still working hard?"

Looking up from the document you've barely typed a word on all afternoon, you meet the gentle gaze of your boyfriend.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles warmly at you.

"Yeah, I haven't really managed to get much done," you sigh, glancing back to the half written document, knowing it's a lost cause for now.

"You look tired, baby. Your boss working you too hard?"

"He's pretty unforgiving," you hum, rubbing your eyes, your body aching with exhaustion. "Three times he had me in his office today."

Your boyfriend lets out a low impressed whistle.

"Harsh. Well, how about you leave whatever you're doing for now? I'm sure your boss will be okay with it being finished tomorrow. I'll run you a bath, make some dinner, then we can relax in front of the TV? Your choice of movie."

"That actually sounds perfect," you smile, logging out of the pc and getting to your feet, stretching your cramped muscles.

He holds his hand out to you as you come around the desk, pulling you into his arms and giving you a sweet kiss.

"I told you having two home offices would be fun," Santiago grins, his eyes bright.

Giggling, you shake your head.

"Yes, but I don't think we got any work done!"

Santiago shrugs nonchalantly.

"Guess that's the perks of being with the boss. I'll let you get away with it and make it up tomorrow." He winks and you laugh, knowing you both have a huge amount of work to catch up on now.

When he'd suggested you work with him you'd been hesitant for this exact reason. But he'd promised to keep quiet about your relationship initially, while you settled into the job, and for the most part, Santiago was professional in the office, although your colleagues had started to notice his almost blatant eye fucks. If you were honest, you didn't help the situation, sending him filthy chat messages, knowing he couldn't have you until you made it home. It turned out professionalism when you wanted to fuck your boss, was hard work.

You squeeze his hand as he leads you to the bathroom.

"Santi, can I have my panties back?"

"Nope," he grins positively merrily. "I'm going to frame them and put them next to the stain on my desk."

You roll your eyes, unsure if he's joking or not, but judging by the look on his face, you think not.

—----

Additional warnings (ending spoilers):

*illusions to infidelity/cheating (it's not I promise)/ role playing

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Thank you for reading! Please if you enjoyed take the time to comment and reblog! As writers we always want to hear your thoughts!

#santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia #tripple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia x fem reader

[alotofpockets]

Breaking down the walls | Yelena Belova

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader Prompt: “Please never stop smiling.” Marvel masterlist | Words: 1670 When you heard that you had to go on a mission with Yelena Belova, you weren’t exactly thrilled. Sure, you had never actually met her personally, only ever having been in the same room as her during meetings like this. Though, it felt like you knew her through her reputation. Your mind filled with the many things you had heard your coworkers speak about Yelena.

“It’s like she has no emotions.” “I don’t think she even smiled once, and the mission lasted a week.” “She’s cold.” You remembered that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and that you should find out for yourself what Yelena was like. In a months’ time you would have to be able to find out some things you decided on as you packed your bags.

That same evening you headed to the main hall where everyone gathered to get their mission details. You saw Yelena already standing there and walked up to her, with your hand held out in front of the woman, “Hi, I’m y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Yelena’s eyes moved to the hand you still held up in front of her. “Yelena.” She said before she looked back down at the phone in her hand. You awkwardly withdrew your hand and sat down on one of the nearby seats, to await further details. This was going to be an interesting month, you thought.

When it was your turn to receive the folder with information and the location where you were expected to go to for the needed equipment, you reached for the folder as Yelena took the car keys. Before you had even opened the folder, Yelena was already on her way out of the door. You hastily followed scared she might actually leave you behind, you’d read the folder in the car. As you expected the ride over to the warehouse to gather supplies was silent, you read each page in the folder thoroughly before setting it aside. The rest of the way you diverted your gaze outside, watching the countryside pass by.

At the warehouse you received the gadgets like earpieces, burner phones, a laptop, and tracking devices, and body camera’s. Your favorite part about the warehouse was the wide variety of weapons. They already placed the weapons you both requested on the work bench. You let Yelena grab her weapons first, while you made small talk with the warehouse manager. Once you’ve both loaded your stuff into the car, your journey continues.

The first couple of days went by slowly but surely, you were getting familiar with your surroundings and getting ready to track your target. When you got back to the house from a grocery run, you hear Yelena say, “Okay, copy that.” Before hanging up the phone. She turns to you, “They have intel that our target will be attending an event tonight in the main square.” You take off your coat, “Okay, let me put the groceries away quickly and then we can make a plan.” Yelena nodded and got the laptop ready.

“Okay, so I got us into the event.” She hands you your entrance badge, it reads the name Abby Miller, you look over to her badge and see she will go by Bella Walker tonight. “Nice work.” You compliment the woman. Next you open the blueprint of the building and look at the map to look at the surroundings. Time passes quickly while you’re planning and soon you have to get ready.

You arrive at the event and get your car parked by the valet, taking a mental note of the direction they drive the car towards. As you expected, they are using the parking lot across the street. You walk through the doors and after showing your badges you’re allowed entrance. Yelena grabs two drinks off of a tray and hands you one as you walk up to a table in the corner of the hall, a table that gives you a nice view of the whole room.

Your eyes scan the room while you’re telling Yelena about random things, so you blend in well with the rest of the crowd. “10 o’clock.” You say when your eyes land back on Yelena. After exchanging a quick nod, you each down your drinks and move into the room. As you had discussed you walked slowly on the far right side of the room, stopping at the bar. You order a drink that takes a little while to make, you turn around looking over had the room as if you were people watching. In reality you were stalling for Yelena to control the hidden body camera you were wearing from the equipment that made it look like a regular smartphone. When she gave you the signal that she got the image you turned back around, and a moment later your drink got served as well. You take the drink and slowly move further along the right side of the room.

Now it was Yelena’s turn, she crossed the room straight to the middle. You watched her move around the room, acting like she was drunk, unable to walk properly. She was heading in the direction of the target, who was now only a couple feet away from her. The target was deep in conversation and had no idea of what was about to happen. Yelena stumbled against him. “Oh I- wooww I m sosorry.” She slurred. “It’s fine.” He said and held her up. “Security!” He shouted. A security guard was quick to his aid. “I think this woman needs some fresh air.” Yelena let the security guard lead her out the back where you met her soon after. Holding up the sheet with the targets fingerprints, “That was like so easy.” Her face plastered with a proud smile. That was the first time you saw her smile, your chest warmed. You knew that not everything they said about her was true.

There was just one more step to finish for the night. You walk over to the valet girl, “Excuse me, miss. I was hoping to get my car back early, my friend had a little bit too much to drink, I think it’s best to take her home.” She gives you a friendly smile, “Of course, just one moment, I’ll get your key from inside.” While you distracted her Yelena quickly put a tracker on your targets car. The valet comes back out of the building and gets your car ready for you. You thank her and drive around the building where you planned to meet back up with Yelena.

Back at the house you both change into something more comfortable. “Hey, so I got us some mac and cheese for dinner tonight because I wasn’t sure if we would have much time to cook, are you okay with that or would you like me to get something else?” You swear you saw the corners of her mouth twitch up for a millisecond. “My mom used to make the best mac and cheese.” She shared. “It’s my favorite food still.” In stead showing that you were surprised at her sharing small things from her passed, you told her a childhood memory of yourself, hoping it would make her feel safer with sharing stuff.

Your thoughts seemed to be correct as over the next week the two of you started to get to know each other more and more. You noticed the part she would shy away from, always making sure not to push her into sharing anything. Slowly you started to realize why she had built her walls so high, people had let her down starting from early childhood.

By the day the two of you got closer. It was like you were breaking away at the walls she put up for the world brick by brick. Besides that, your mission was progressing very well, you turned out to be a really good team. Probably one of the best partners you’ve ever been on a mission with and to think that you were not wanting to partner up with her because of the way other people had spoken about her behind her back.

It was the last day of your mission. You had already successfully accomplished the task at hand and were packing your stuff. Your mind fuzzed over with thoughts about not being with Yelena every day anymore when you get back. Being around her had become a part of your daily routine, a part you were quite happy about. “Is everything okay?” Yelena asked stepping closer to you. “Yeah, I’m alright. I was just thinking that I was going to miss having you around when we get back.” You honestly share.

A big smile grew on Yelena’s face. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily now, did you?” Before you know it the next words are out of your mouth, “Please never stop smiling.” Your eyes widen. That was a thought that was meant to stay in your head. A blush raises to your cheeks. “Aww, don’t get shy now.” Yelena teases. She takes a step closer, you’re standing face to face with her now. Your eyes meet hers. Yelena lifts her hand up to caress your cheek softly. “This month with you has been amazing, I’ve never felt this close to anyone in my life before. And I don’t want to ruin this, but I would really like to kiss you. Can I?”

Your smile matches hers from a moment ago. “Yes, yes you can.” She pulls you in by the hand on your cheek and meets your lips in the middle. The moment that her soft lips touch yours, you melt into her. The kiss starts out sweetly, but quickly gets more passionate as you have both been craving this for weeks. The packing was quickly forgotten as you got lost in each other. It’s safe to say that when you get back, Yelena will still be by your side.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x gn!reader #yelena black widow #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

[harveysweakness]

Hii ! I’ve been absolutely loving your fics and I’m so glad there’s another writer writing Harvey x Reader !!

I was wondering if you could write a fic that involved the reader being a lawyer in another firm dealing with a tough case that’s been on their mind 24/7, then during the night one day, Harvey wakes up in the middle of the night and the reader isn’t in bed but is in the kitchen or something because they can’t sleep. Maybe Harvey consoles the reader and tries to convince them to go back to bed or pulls a “if you’re staying up, i am too.” even though he’s sleepy.

Just a overall idea/prompt :) do what you’d like! have fun with it, cause i love your writing 🙌🏼

A/N: I went so so soft writing this and Harvey did too aoifjaeofijaofeij

"Good morning," you greeted, picking up the call from Harvey.

"Will you come over tonight?" Harvey asked. Your heart broke a bit, knowing you'd told him no the past three nights. Work had been stressing you out and you hadn't really even been sleeping except for a couple hours each night. Last night you hadn't even gone home from the office. Maybe you did need a break, and you certainly wanted to see the handsome man you'd been dating for the past month.

"Yes."

"Good."

You couldn't help but smile and give a little laugh. "I'll see you tonight, Harvey."

"Have a good day, Y/N."

-------

You sighed, staring up at Harvey's bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep. You had had a wonderful evening with the man lying asleep next to you, but your thoughts were still swirling.

You weren't quite sure how you were going to win this one. A certain confidentiality agreement your client had stupidly decided to sign was proving to be the biggest annoyance and a roadblock to your obvious win.

Sighing once more, you carefully slid out from under the covers and padded barefoot to the kitchen where your work bag sat. Pulling your laptop out, you tucked your feet up under you on the couch and went to work.

"Sweetheart?"

A smile fell on your lips hearing Harvey's voice, full of sleep, slightly husky. You looked up at him, setting your laptop to the side.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't sleep."

"How are you going to win a case if you've run yourself ragged?"

"Okay, you have a point," you sighed, eyeing your laptop before shutting it.

"That's what I like to see."

You almost stood and let him lead you back to bed, but your anxiety hit.

"I can't," you murmured, an apologetic expression forming.

"What- you just told me," he tried to fight.

"I'm sorry, I have to work."

"So I can't get you back to bed?" he huffed. You stood, making your way over to him, goosebumps erupting at the feeling of his hand lightly running up and down your arm.

"You can get me back to bed once I finish this case," you whispered before wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light kiss. He took a deep breath in and out before giving you a pointed look.

"Then I'm staying up with you."

"No, you most certainly are not," you retorted, removing yourself from his embrace and crossing your arms.

"Can't stop me," he said, moving to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, yawning.

"You're ti-" you stopped, knowing he would just same the same back to you.

"That's what I thought," he smirked, plopping down on the couch. You sat down next to him, pulling your laptop onto your lap.

"Will it bother you if I put on TV?"

You shook your head, appreciating the ask and the way his hand briefly squeezed your knee.

For the next hour, the two of you continued to fight sleep, you having to shake your head a few times in an attempt to refocus your eyes, and Harvey's eyes drooping several times, head falling slightly before picking himself back up. You were beginning to feel beyond guilty about causing him to lose sleep, but a weight against your shoulder had you smiling.

You looked down to see Harvey fast asleep, eyes closed, soft snores starting to come from him. Though it might have made you more tired, you felt more awake, trying not to wake him.

And when he shook you awake an hour later, dragging you both back to bed, you knew he was the perfect man for you.

#harvey specter #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter x reader #suits #Harvey specter x femreader #mine

[universitypenguin]

Chapter 25

Summary: Doubts about Nguyen arise in the stalker case and the murder case. Princess and Lloyd review the evidence and decide where to focus their efforts as they race against the clock to rescue Laine Cruz.

Word Count: 6,182

Masterlist

Warning: This story contains content that is intended for those who are at least eighteen years old, such as strong language, sex, sexual content, and references to murder, kidnapping and criminal elements. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter XXV

Jake Jensen was in nerd heaven and you loved that for him. 

He sat at a desk in the middle of the D.C. Metro Police station bullpen. A female detective from cyber crimes was leaning over his shoulder. She was slender with a pixie cut and delicate facial features that reminded you of Audrey Hepburn. Jake’s fingers flew over the keyboard of your work laptop as he explained how your system had been hacked. 

You hung back, settling into the guest chair across from Detective Diskant’s desk, fifteen feet away from the computer nerd fest. Diskant hadn’t shown up yet. He’d called after your allergist appointment to ask if Jake could bring in your work laptop and go over it with cybercrimes. You looked around the semi-deserted bullpen. A few uniforms stood around, talking near the front desk. There were a couple offices around the central area that appeared occupied, but it seemed most of the detectives were out and about. This gave you mixed feelings. It might be good to have the police force on the street, present in the communities they served, but where was their back up? Was everyone else at a conference or a training in-service or was the station always this empty?

Trying not to stare at Jake and the lady cop, you searched your purse for a nail file. It had been ages since you’d gotten a manicure and long past time for a good re-shaping. As you filed, you tried to be subtle about glancing over at the computer nerds. The lady cop laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder and smiled. 

You couldn’t catch the words but you knew body language. That head tilt and the sly glance that darted away once eye contact was made was straight out of Flirting 101. Despite the clear signals the lady cop was throwing down, they still went over Jake’s head. 

“Princess, can you come over here?” Jake asked. 

You winced at the expression that flashed across the lady cop’s face as she withdrew her hand from Jake’s personal space. 

“What’s up?” you asked, moving to stand behind Jake’s chair but keeping a respectful distance between you. 

“Look at this,” Jake said, pointing to the screen. 

You examined the string of numbers he indicated. “What am I looking at, again?” 

“It’s an IP address from Bishop & Howard.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“This is where the attack originated. Also, it came through our server.”

“So we know who was behind the attack?” 

Jake sighed. “Not exactly. We know where it came from. The naming convention of the IP address doesn’t exactly match the company’s standard, but some departments do use unique identifiers.” 

“Don’t you guys keep an inventory list of all the active IP addresses?”

“I already ran it through the list. No match.”

“But it came from our server?”

The lady cop cleared her throat. “Is there any reason a particular department would have a computer with a unique IP address?”

“Usually they’re marking computers that are designed for sensitive information, but most of them aren’t connected to the internet.” 

“We should ask what departments use unlisted computers,” she said. 

“I doubt they’d just hand that information over,” Jake replied. 

“But this narrows down the suspect list to employees of Bishop & Howard,” the female detective said. 

“How else can we match this IP address?” you asked.

“I’ve set up one of the specialized computers for an investigation before. The format of the IP address includes a project code, security level, and identifying number for the system. If I do some digging, I might be able to figure out who’s computer this is.”

Reading between the lines, you knew ‘digging’ meant ‘hacking’ but didn’t call him on it in front of the cyber crimes detective.

“I didn’t realize those specialized computers were connected to our servers.”

Jake rubbed a hand over his face. “They’re not supposed to be. But clearly whoever’s stalking you is tech savvier than we thought. It’s like someone deliberately used the untraceable system to cover their tracks."

Detective Diskant finally entered the room, carrying a laptop under his arm. He stopped at the desk where Jake sat and placed it down.

“You need to see this,” he said, pressing play on a video file. 

At first it seemed like footage of an airport, but when the angle shifted you recognized the platform at Washington Union Station. A train pulled up and passengers disembarked. Diskant pressed pause when the video reached a certain frame. 

“Recognize anyone?” 

“Nguyen,” Jake said. 

You scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face. It wasn’t until Jake pointed him out that you recognized Shun Nguye. He was in the center of the screen, blending into the blur of travelers. 

“We need to reconsider the prime suspect in your stalking case,” Diskant said.

“What?”

“Look at the time stamp,” Jake said. 

“August 16th, at 11 A.M,” you read.

“Unless Nguyen has developed the ability to be in two places at once, he couldn’t have attacked Princess in Lloyd’s backyard and been in the train station.” 

You closed your eyes feeling weak. “That explains the photos,” you murmured.

“What photos?” Diskant asked.

“The pictures left on my car. It was right after the birthday dinner with my family. I remembered them yesterday. The timing didn’t make sense. Nguyen couldn’t have taken them, not by himself.” 

“Right. Based on this, we can rule him out, but it’s suspicious that he’d return to Virginia.”

“We’re back where we started, with no idea who my stalker is,” you said.

Diskant inclined his head, acknowledging your statement. “No, we don’t.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd spent the afternoon in a coffee shop transcribing his interview with Tate Corbin. Despite his aversion to such establishments, they offered reliable internet which was a service he desperately needed. Still, the saccharine sayings painted on the walls, boldly advocating the joys of chemical dependence in Brush Script font, were hard to stomach. He didn’t find the artistic photos of coffee plants hanging beside his table any more palatable than the quotes. 

The pictures grated on his nerves; at least the drug dens he’d frequented hadn’t been plastered with photographs idolizing the coca plant. In truth, these images were captured with the same propagandistic intent as the works of other renowned visual manipulators like Dmitri Baltermants. However, the Soviet photojournalist had composed his photos with nuance and emotion - qualities sorely lacking in these uninspired shots.

Lloyd glanced at his watch and saw that it was still too early to call you. He sipped the last of his mint tea, watching the crowd queuing for their 2:30 fix. 

“I can’t get anything done after noon unless I’ve had three shots of espresso,” a woman in line declared.

He waited for her companion’s response, anticipating that three shots of espresso per day ought to warrant some kind of self-reflection, but the woman’s associate nodded understandingly. Really? That was it? Why did no one offer her the intervention she clearly needed?

Behind the counter baristas poured beverages into plastic and styrofoam cups and passed them to waiting addicts. Cocaine was an indefensible habit, but at least its packaging wasn’t a significant driver of microplastic pollution. Those damn cups had to rank among the worst inventions society had ever dreamt up. They were somewhere near the top, probably right in between Jake Paul’s career and neonicotinoids. 

At 2:45 his patience had worn thin. Lloyd grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Driving back to D.C. wasn’t part of his agenda, but he was on the cusp of an outburst that would earn him an invitation to never come back, so the forty minute drive to Zach’s office was worthwhile. 

He set up in the spare office you’d taken over and laid out his notes when the door swung open, and you stalked in, looking upset. 

“Princess?”

You shrieked and jumped a foot in the air. Lloyd blinked, ears ringing from the assault on his eardrums. You were pressed against the wall clutching your heart with one hand and cradling your purse to your abdomen like it was a shield. He sat very still.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You groaned, closing your eyes and sinking down the wall, crumpling. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t sound fine. Or look it.” 

Lloyd stood up, moving around the desk and approaching you. He took the purse from your hands and dropped it on the spare chair, then dragged you into his arms. You melted into the embrace, tucking your head in the crook of his shoulder. He smoothed a hand down your back and listened as you breathed deeply.

“Bad allergist appointment?” he asked. 

“Not really. It turns out that I have an aspirin allergy, which we already knew. How was your interview?”

“Unsatisfying.”

“Why?”

“It ended up killing more leads than it generated. What’s wrong?”

“I had a meeting with Detective Diskant after my appointment. Nguyen isn’t my stalker.” You filled him in. “So, Jake’s running down the information from the hack but we’re back at square one.”

Lloyd reached behind you and closed the blinds to the office window, then took your hands and guided you to the office chair behind the desk. He sat down and drew you onto his lap, positioning your legs to rest over the arm of the chair.

“I wrote up some timelines for the Harmony case,” you said, looping your arms around his shoulders.

He glanced over at the murder board you’d arranged on the office wall. Part of him wanted to dive into your meeting with Diskant but looking at your face, he knew that wasn’t a topic you were ready to pursue. Not right now, at least. 

“I see that. Did you learn anything at the bible camp?” 

“Li Wei had a secret boyfriend during the spring of 1999.”

Lloyd groaned. “Not another secret relationship. What is it with women and hiding their love lives from investigators?”

“Don’t ask me. Anyway, that revelation was the highlight of the trip, but it got me thinking about the timelines of the case.”

“Timelines, plural?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been playing around with the theory that the cases weren’t actually connected since the beginning. I know it might seem unlikely for two prolific killers to be operating in the same area at the same time, but the differences in victimology are so stark it has to be considered.”

“And the timelines changed your mind.”

“If there was evidence of two killers, it seems like we’d have found something pointing in that direction by now.”

“But you’re not letting the theory go?” Lloyd asked.

“Not yet, but I’d rather focus on the evidence. I started by reviewing the events from 1999,” you said, pointing to the wall. “Li Wei’s boyfriend is the first event. Then, on June 14th, she and her daughter, Zoe, disappear. Two weeks later, the first of Harmony’s missing women, Stacey Moore, was abducted.”

“You think there’s a connection?”

“The timing makes me wonder if that killing was a trigger for the perpetrator. Another possibility is that he viewed Li Wei and Zoe as a… test run, of sorts.” 

“That speaks to his behavior. He’s controlled, premeditated, and careful. If he captured Zoe first that would have given him leverage over Li Wei.”

“Exactly. And if we look at our suspect list, something else that comes up on the 1999 timeline is the connection between Shun Nguyen and the other parties.”

Lloyd straightened, adjusting you on his lap. “There’s something linking Nguyen and Li Wei? What is it?” 

“Nothing. I looked high and low, but there’s no connection. I can’t even establish that he was ever in Fredericksburg. His only connection to Li Wei is through Julia, who he didn’t meet until late 2000.”

“When was his residency interview at the hospital?”

“June 18, 1999. After the interview on Friday, he spent the night at a hotel, drove back to D.C. in the morning and took a train home to New York.” 

“Which we already knew,” Lloyd grumbled. 

“I know, I’m just trying to organize things so they make sense. And you know what really doesn’t make any sense?”

“The idea of Nguyen commuting between New York City and a small town outside of D.C. to kill random strangers almost a full year before he knew he’d be living there,” Lloyd said.

“We don’t have much in terms of physical evidence, so we’ve been using behavioral profiling to try and understand the killer’s actions. Know what’s more accurate than behavioral profiling? Geographical profiling. Scientists use it all the time.”

“I’m not arguing with you. The case against Nguyen always hinged on his connection to Julia and his knowledge and access to chemicals.”

“There’s a distinct pattern in these early crimes and it points to someone local. Abducting nine people and never leaving behind a trace requires planning and preparation. Nguyen couldn’t have spared the time for all that in 1999.” 

“Which brings us to 2000, when he moved to Harmony.”

“He moved in July. A week later, Kayla Ballesta went missing, which sounds damning until you account for the car accident Nguyen had been in two months earlier.”

Lloyd grunted. “Yeah, but who could fake an injury better than a doctor?”

“Radiology doesn’t lie. He wasn’t in any shape to abduct Kayla that July.”  

“Do we have his radiology reports?” 

“No, but Peter Shaw had them. According to his article in the Rolling Stone, he had two different orthopedic surgeons review the images. They both confirmed the severity of Nguyen’s fracture.” 

“It’s compelling, but you know what else is compelling?” Lloyd asked.

“What?”

“After Nguyen was arrested the disappearances stopped. That’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.” 

“You know what else is too much to ignore? An open book pelvic fracture.” 

“Mmmh.”

You chuckled at the wrinkle of disgust that passed over Lloyd’s face and stroked his jaw with the back of your fingers. “I went through all the evidence from 2001, which didn’t take long because there’s almost no evidence to speak of.” 

“There was more evidence at Julia’s crime scene than any of the others,” Lloyd said.

“She went missing either on April 17th or 18th and her body was found encased in concrete beside Cub Run Trail a few days later. Police identified the remains about a week after finding them and Nguyen was arrested in August.”

“Going back to the behavioral evidence, we can establish a few things for sure. Starting with the obvious, the serial killer is knowledgeable and capable at using chemicals. He has access to them somehow and might have a secondary location where he can treat the bodies.”

“Which we know from the remains found at the trail,” you said.

“Right. Julia’s bones were brittle and crumbled when touched, which is a property of exposure to a strong base. If they’d been soaked in acid the bones would’ve been rubbery and flexible. Nguyen’s chemical training and access to materials through the hospital led the police to focus on him.”

“But he was never tried for any of the other murders and everything that made him a suspect was circumstantial.”

“Ninety percent of the case against Nguyen amounts to fact that the disappearances stopped after he was out of the picture,” Lloyd reminded you.

“It’s also interesting that Li Wei, Zoe, and Julia’s remains were all treated the same, even though there’s three years between their cases.” 

“All the bodies found beside the trail were disposed of by the exact same method. It’s too specific for a copy cat - unless the original perpetrator told someone precisely where they left the first two victims.”

“Wouldn’t they have had to describe the chemicals and methodology, too?” you asked.

“For the results to be this uniform? Absolutely.” 

“What about victimology? That’s always been a huge question for me. All the killer’s known victims are female but aside from that, things start to get murky.”

You gestured to the photos on the wall, where the six portraits of the missing women were grouped. “They match a specific type. They were average build, natives of eastern coastal Virginia, with advanced degrees and professional jobs. Li Wei doesn’t match the pattern, and neither does Julia.” 

“But the real outlier is Zoe,” Lloyd pointed out.

“Agreed. Which is why we’re paying Annabeth Green a duke’s ransom to run a paternity test on her remains and identify her father.” 

“You set me up for that one, Princess.”

“I have to spread the blame around. Do you know what she charges for that kind of a test?”

Lloyd snorted. “Do you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Her secretary just emailed me the invoice.”

“What’s the goal of the paternity test?”

“To identify a new suspect. After going through all the evidence, our suspect list is pretty barren. Nguyen was too far away to have killed the victims from 1999 and there’s no connection between him and Li Wei Chapman. He wasn’t able to kill the first victim from 2000 because of his injury. And when it comes down to it, I don’t think he killed Julia, either.”

Lloyd ran his tongue around his teeth.“I agree. He didn’t have the opportunity. That was established by the Virginia Supreme Court beyond any reasonable doubt. Did you find anything on Leo McKenzie?”

You shook your head. “Nothing new. The Fairfax Sheriff’s Department hasn’t sent me a copy of their file on him, either.”

“They’re not known for their inter-agency cooperation.”

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter if I have their file or not, because Zach got a copy of McKenzie’s discharge papers from the Army. His back injury is serious enough to exclude him from suspicion. That leaves Tate Corbin. How’d your interview with him go?” 

“Not great. He has an alibi for two of the abductions thanks to a biennial fishing trip with his merchant marine buddies.”

Lloyd gave you the details of Corbin’s alibi and you scribbled down the information, making a note to contact the witnesses tomorrow morning.

“Also, get this. There was only one other person who bothered checking out Corbin as a suspect. You’ll never guess who it was.” 

“Detective Roth?”

“Peter Shaw.” 

You chuckled. “Ouch.” 

Lloyd gathered you closer, his eyes falling half closed as he nuzzled your neck. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t give an alibi for Julia’s murder, though.” 

“I knew he wasn’t the one before he produced the alibi,” Lloyd said. 

“How?” 

“His reactions were off. This killer has flown under the radar for too long. His public mask is impeccable.”

“And Corbin…?”

“Corbin is weird. There’s no mask. He wasn’t interested in talking about the missing victims. Then, when I finally got him talking, he wasn’t curious.” 

“Why would the real killer be curious? He knows more about them than we do.”

“He’d want to know what we had. The question of evidence would’ve been brought up, but Corbin couldn’t have cared less. The real killer would’ve been excited by the conversation, but he’d have masked the reaction. Corbin was ambivalent. And the last reason is the same as the first,” Lloyd said. “He’s too weird to be the killer. He’s loud, opinionated, and obnoxious. He doesn’t fly under the radar at all.”

You giggled. “Eliminated from suspicion because of his personality…” 

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “We’re looking for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Corbin is a peacock.”

“Well, we’ve shaved the suspect list down to zero. Nguyen’s off the list for lack of opportunity. McKenzie isn’t physically capable of abducting anything bigger than a puppy. The most promising suspect, Tate Corbin, is off the list for being sane, and he has an alibi for multiple abductions.”

“We’re out of suspects.”

“Which sucks, because there’s a missing woman who needs us to figure this out.” 

“Well, at least we know we’re looking for a strong base. Corbin completely sealed his innocence in my mind when he brought up an acidic mine as the potential disposal site.” 

You sat up in Lloyd’s lap, nearly elbowing him in the stomach. “What acid? Where?” 

Lloyd grumbled and caught your legs. He wrapped an arm around your knees, holding you captive. “Copper Ridge Quarry. It’s south of Harmony and it’s been abandoned for decades. The government has spent billions containing the toxic sludge.”

“Copper Ridge Quarry. That sounds familiar.”

“It’s a super-fund site. Every year the exposed ore reacts with rain and ground water and produces new runoff. Until someone figures out how to stop the reactions, the acid will keep getting more concentrated every year.” 

“Gross. Hang on, let me check something.”

Lloyd eased his grip and let you reach your laptop. He waited as you typed, flipping through pages of the database you’d organized months ago. 

“Here. Copper Ridge Quarry is in the database.”

“They already checked it out?”

“Mmmhh… According to the file summary, NASA sent a robot into one of the acid pools in the 80s and it was never seen again.”

“Did it return any data?” Lloyd asked.

“No. It looks like the investigation into Copper Ridge wasn’t very thorough. The first time they checked it out was in October of 2000. The local police’s resources were stretched thin. Between processing evidence from the abduction sites, organizing massive searches, and running down other leads, Copper Ridge didn’t get much attention.” 

“What about later?” Lloyd asked. 

“They tried again in 2001 when Stephanie Young disappeared, but there were conflicts with the search warrants. Some of the land around Copper Ridge is privately owned and required a compelling reason to search private property, which they didn’t have. In the end, they searched all the public land they had consent to access, but that’s it.” 

“An acidic mine site is an intriguing lead, but we don’t have any evidence the killer uses acid.” 

“Is that really a logical jump?” you questioned.

“Scientists use strong bases in labs to remove flesh from skeletons. If you expose the bones for longer, about five to six hours with some heat, they crumble.”

“That’s not possible with acid?”

“It would work,” Lloyd admitted. “It might even do a better job of completely dissolving them, but it’s more dangerous. The acids strong enough aren’t safe to handle. Sodium hydroxide on the other hand, comes as a salt. It’s much easier to obtain and if you got it on your skin it might cause a rash, but that’s it. You have to dissolve it in water before it’s dangerous.”

“But Copper Ridge would eliminate the need for him to obtain chemicals. Assuming he had a way in, it mitigates the risk of being caught by purchasing records or his professional access.” 

“If he had a traditional education, he’d lean towards a base,” Lloyd said.

“If he’s smart enough to use a base, why not use an acid? It’s all chemistry at the end of the day.” 

“Following the same logic, why not dispose of Julia’s body the same way as Li Wei and Zoe’s? The crimes were three years apart. He’d have had time to perfect his methods,” Lloyd said.

“That’s been my biggest gripe with all the victims being connected. But this afternoon, I remembered something Marco said when I explained the case. He commented that it was ‘like he put the sisters together,’ with how he disposed of Julia. It meant more to me before we learned Li Wei was actually Julia’s cousin. But now, what if he had the same motive both times?”

“We haven’t considered his motives.”

“I have. If you lay out the whole timeline, Li Wei and Zoe were his first victims and they’re both anomalies in victimology. Li Wei wasn’t born in the U.S., but she did grow up here. She dropped out of college freshman year and didn’t finish a bachelor’s degree, let alone a masters. She worked at her parent’s bible camp, which was a far cry from a professional job, like the other victims. And she doesn’t fit the physical victim type, either. She was too tall.”

“And Julia’s the same. Too tall and too thin, no degrees, no job. Plus, she really was foreign.”

“Right. Li Wei could have passed for a Virginia native, but there was no way he mistook Julia for an American. Where’s the motive, though?” Lloyd asked.

“If they don’t fit victimology there must be a motive. That’s why I really wanted the paternity test on Zoe. Usually, with a child victim, the perpetrator is one of the parents. We can rule out her mother, which leaves the father.”

“What about Julia?”

“She was digging into Li Wei’s death. If the killer found out, wouldn’t he have been compelled to interfere?”

“Yes, but why not dispose of her like he did all the other victims? If your theory about Copper Ridge is correct, he had the perfect disposal method. I can imagine him failing on his first attempt to dissolve a body with a strong base, but going back to the failed method three years later? That’s stupid.”

“Or it’s incredibly smart. Anyone who found all three victims, encased in two different concrete slabs, beside a popular jogging trail, albeit, in a remote area of said trail, would’ve connected the dots. Then they would’ve connected the victims. Julia arrived in the U.S. in 1997. It’s plausible to imagine a connection. We only know there wasn’t one because of Aliyah.”

“The killer was making sure the cases would be connected.” 

“But when no one found the second slab, Nguyen was arrested and the rumor mill started up, claiming he was connected to the six missing women,” you said. 

“The killer was handed the perfect scapegoat on a platter. So, he stopped killing and as far as public opinion went, no more disappearances meant they’d collared the right guy.” 

“I know it’s a lot of theory, but looking at the whole sequence from 1999 to 2002, how the killing started with Li Wei and Zoe, then stopped after Julia, it’s almost like a full circle.”

“He didn’t stop, though. If he had, Zach and I wouldn’t be spending our Monday night on a search party for Laine Cruz,” Lloyd said. 

“What if this is a copycat?” You sighed at your own question and shook your head. “The problem with all this theory is that we don’t have any evidence to back it up. Paradoxically, we have more evidence than anyone else who worked the case ever did.” 

“We’re here because Roth searched an old crime scene and got lucky,” Lloyd said.

“There’s solid evidence suggesting the killer is knowledgeable in chemistry. He’s proven capable with them, and we have physical evidence that two of his victims were disposed of with a strong base. We also know his access to these chemicals wasn’t a fluke because he used them twice - once in 1999 and again in 2002.” 

“And the concrete slab itself is evidence,” Lloyd said. “He knows how to mix, form, and set a concrete slab by himself. It’s not as specific as his advanced chemical knowledge, but it’s still a proven ability.”

“He’s prepared and careful, so disposing of the bodies wouldn’t have been the first time he worked with concrete. That makes sense,” you said. 

“He’s also shown to be quite knowledgeable of the local area. Abducting six women without leaving any witnesses isn’t easy. Also, he’s familiar enough with Cub Run Trail to dispose of bodies there twice. It was a remote section of the trail, sure, but that points to him knowing the area.”

“And getting them up there? He’s got to be physically fit.”

“Unlike Leo McKenzie. We have evidence that Julia’s teeth were destroyed with a gunshot, and the .22 shell casings found in Nguyen’s yard after she went missing. It’s not difficult to get a gun in the D.C. area, but let’s add it to the list.” 

“Also, the last fact, but maybe the most important: he had the opportunity to commit all nine murders.”

Lloyd grunted. “How do we know so much about him, but still don’t have a suspect?”

“He’s careful and prepared. Speaking of that, what about the woman that went missing on Friday night? Have they found any evidence at the scene of her abduction?” 

“Laine Cruz. The search isn’t going well. They found her car abandoned in town with a dead battery. It could have been sabotage or the perpetrator saw an opportunity and took advantage. Her purse was in the car, but not her cell phone. There’s been no activity on her bank cards and her phone is turned off.” 

“What are they doing to find her?” 

“The usual - tracking dogs, a search grid. It seems futile,” Lloyd said. 

“Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and hoping for a different result?” you asked. 

“According to Einstein.”

“Search grids and dogs didn’t find any of the other missing women, did they?”

“No,” Lloyd conceded.

“We were brought in to investigate the new evidence and figure out if it was connected to the missing victims.”

“Are you saying they should call off the search?”

“No, but searching is their job - not ours. I think we should focus on following the evidence and investigating what we have.” 

“You’re saying Zach and I shouldn’t join the search,” Lloyd said.

“Copper Ridge Quarry is a fresh lead. I think that’s where our time would be best spent.” 

“Alright. We’ll do it. Are you okay with staying late at the office? I don’t know how long this’ll take.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.” 

Lloyd studied your expression and noted that you still looked upset. He slid a finger under your chin, turning your face up to his. 

“Hey. It’s okay. Jake will find a new lead.”

“What if my stalker isn’t someone we would suspect?” you asked. “What if it’s totally random?”

“Don’t think about that. Let Jake and Landon worry about the stalker. Let me worry about him.”

Your eyes scanned his, filled with concern. There was nothing he could say, Lloyd realized. He changed tactics and lowered his gaze to your chest.

“How do your nipples feel? Still sore?”

“I…” you squirmed. 

He ran a hand over the curve of your breast, feeling the gentle curve through the thin silk of your blouse. There were three layers of cloth between his fingertips and your flesh but he still felt the hardening of your nipple. You hissed and he paused.

“They’re not sore,” you said, reassuring him. “Just… tender.”

His lips curved. “What’s your current opinion on nipple clamps?”

“It’s an eighty-twenty split.”

“For or against?”

“For,” you admitted, lashes fluttering as you fought back shyness. 

Lloyd squeezed you tight and explored your throat with soft, teasing kisses. You relaxed instantly, muscles loosening as your head fell back to give him more room. His free hand went to the fastenings on the front of your blouse, flicking open each tiny pearl button.

You caught his hand. “There’s a window on the door.”

“I closed the blinds,” Lloyd said. 

“Oh.”

You let go and when he arched a brow, you nodded. He carefully undid each tiny button, flashing you an amused look.

“Did you plan on making it hard for me to undress you, or this coincidence?” 

“Actually, I just thought the buttons were pretty.”

“They are. However, this is prettier,” Lloyd said, pushing open the silk and sliding off the thin straps of your camisole. He purred at the sight of your cream colored bra. “Front-clasp. I forgive you for the buttons.”

He flicked open your bra and you shivered at the sensation of cool air on delicate skin. Lloyd shifted you again, turning your body so your back was positioned to the door of the office. It wasn’t necessary, but you appreciated his awareness.

“Mmmhhh… still a little swollen,” he murmured, caressing his thumb over a puckered nipple. “They’re warm.”

You trembled when his hand moved up to curl around the back of your neck. He kissed your sternum and his mustache brushed your skin in a teasing dance. His facial hair wasn’t bristly, but it wasn’t soft, either. His hand slid from your throat to your collarbone and slowly cupped the weight of your left breast. Your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Lloyd.”

His cheek pressed to your sternum and you felt his hot breath against your tight nipple. The slow, gentle stroking of his thumb over your breast was restrained and controlled. You shuddered. Part of you wanted to beg for more. The other part knew the office door might have the blinds lowered, but it was still unlocked. Lloyd’s tender stroking was making your head go fuzzy. You arched your back in offering, but he didn’t react. 

“Please,” you whined.

Lloyd made a rough sound and dropped his head, kissing a slow path across your chest, down your sternum to suckle the inner curve of your breast. Your fingers threaded into the cool strands of his hair as you pulled him toward where you needed him the most. As his mouth fastened around your nipple, you felt his lips curve into a smirk, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

He’d finished lapping at the first straining nipple and moved onto the second when the door to your office swung open. You were so caught up in the moment that the noise barely registered. It wasn’t until the sound of a masculine voice cut through your mental haze that you gasped.

“What the fuck, Lloyd?! Hang a damn sock on the door next time!”

Zach’s shout brought your head around. The man had turned his back and clamped a hand over his eyes. Lloyd slowly released your nipple and raised his head.

“Have you heard of knocking?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you were in here!” Zach protested.

For some reason, you weren’t scrambling to fasten your bra in a panicked rush. Instead of embarrassment you felt dizzy with lust as Lloyd re-fastened your bra and returned the straps of your camisole to their original position. His eyes caught yours and he smiled, eyes glinting with something like pride. Whether it was at his own work or your lack of reaction to the embarrassment of being caught, you weren’t sure. He started from the bottom as he re-buttoned the tiny pearl fastenings of your shirt.

“Can I turn around?” Zach asked. 

You grined at Lloyd, who’d only fastened two buttons of your blouse.

“Sure,” you said.

Zach turned half way, peeking from the corner of his eye. He nearly wrenched his neck out of place when he spun away again, unleashing a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush. 

“Do you two mind? I don’t like walking into the middle of a porno in my own office!”

Lloyd snickered. “Please. Grow up, Zach. There were racier scenes than this on T.V. when you were a kid.”

“I’m going to wait in the truck!”

You giggled as Zach raced out of the office like something was chasing him and smirked at Lloyd when he finished doing up your blouse. “I take it you don’t share details about your sex life with Zach anymore?”

“If did, he’d probably knock my teeth out.” He wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. “Speaking of things that would send me to the dentist, why are you so calm about me forgetting to lock the door?” 

You linked your hands behind his neck and shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought getting caught in a compromising position would be embarrassing but it wasn’t. I mean, Zach didn’t see any parts of me he hadn't seen before. We weren’t hiding the fact that we’re sleeping together, so he didn’t learn anything new.”

“Funny. You were a virgin three months ago and Zach’s the shrinking violet,” Lloyd snickered. He bent down and kissed you thoroughly. “I won’t be back until late. You’re sure you don’t want one of the guys to give you a ride home?”

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

Lloyd reached for his jacket and paused. “Princess, if you have time tonight, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Go back through the footage of Nguyen’s interviews. There was a moment in there, something he said that I didn’t quite catch. It was like he had a slip of the tongue and then backpedaled to cover it up.”

“You just described his whole communication style,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s why I was driving myself nuts in Qatar, listening to the tapes over and over, trying to figure out what it was.”

“Okay. Do you remember which day it was on?”

“It was on the first day of interviews. I didn’t notice the slip until I listened to the audio of the interview on the flight out of Singapore. Maybe it’s nothing, because I haven’t been able to find it again, but at the time I was absolutely sure he’d said something important.”

“Maybe another set of ears will help.”

“Thanks, Princess. Don’t expect me until late, okay?”

“Good luck tonight.” 

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Next - Chapter XXVI

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Masterlist

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[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 30: SOCIAL MEDIA

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Cillian and Nina walked into Cillian's apartment and plopped down on the sofa, exhausted from a long day. Nina absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram, her eyes widening at the sight of countless pictures you were tagged in from the theatre.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Cillian leaned over his daughter's shoulder to get a glimpse of what had caught her attention. His eyes widened as he saw the stunning images of you, showcasing your incredible talent on stage.

Cillian, never one for social media, thought for a moment before transforming into a wine connoisseur. He poured himself a glass and decided that perhaps, just this once, he could dip his toes into the digital world.

Cillian, not being so savvy in the world of social media, found himself intrigued by this unconventional way of peeping into people's lives and, with his newfound curiosity, he glanced at Nina, offering her a crooked grin.

"You know what? I think it's about time I joined the world of Instagram too. I mean, how hard can it be?" Cillian said, only half-serious.

Nina let out a hearty laugh, grabbing her phone. "Dad, I hate to break it to you, but I think they might have put an 'age restriction' on Instagram. You're probably breaking some kind of internet law just by thinking of signing up."

Determined not to be thwarted by his daughter's teasing, Cillian pushed forward. "I am young at heart, you know that. Besides, I want to see what all the fuss is about with this social media thing,” Cillian laughed.

"All right, Dad. Let's see if the world is ready for Cillian Murphy on Instagram then,” she giggled before warning him. “But don’t you dare follow me! Your request will be denied!” she told him, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

“Follow? What do you mean by that?” he asked obliviously just before Nina left the living room to retrieve her laptop from her bedroom while Cillian poured himself another glass of wine. Nothing like some liquid courage to tackle the world of social media.

As Nina set up his profile, Cillian couldn't help but start feeling a little giddy, thinking that he was doing something naughty while, deep down inside, reflecting on his feelings. He missed you. He missed your laughter, your touch, and the way you made his heart race.

A familiar ache settled in his chest as he thought about the reasons you two broke up. The age difference seemed significant at the time, but now, he couldn't deny his lingering love for you.

“All done. Just waiting for your verification because you are a celebrity after all,” Nina teased but Cillian had no idea what she was on about and reached for his mobile phone, which is where Nina had downloaded an app and signed him in.

“I have taken a photo of you from the Internet. Needless to say, there were plenty of them,” she joked before, eventually, explaining to her father how Instagram actually worked.

Then, after Nina finished setting up Cillian's profile and retreated to her room, Cillian held his phone, contemplating whether he should follow your Instagram account. His finger hovered over the "Follow" button, hesitating.

"To hell with it," Cillian then muttered to himself, clicking the button and grinning like a teenager who had just pulled off a secret prank.

***

Meanwhile, at a lively bar, you were enjoying a night out with your friends following your grand performance, laughing and sipping on colourful cocktails.

That's when it happened. A notification popped up on your phone—Cillian Murphy is now following you on Instagram.

You nearly choked on your drink. Was this some sort of prank, you wondered and, just as you became somewhat flustered by what you believed to be a joke, one of your new acquaintances at the academy tapped you on the shoulder as she too was reading your feed.

"Oh my god Y/N, Cillian Murphy actually commented on your post!" she exclaimed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Wait, what?” you asked before scrolling through the feed yourself and seeing that, not only had someone using Cillian’s name followed you, but also had this person left a comment, congratulating you on your performance.

“I doubt that’s real” another one of the dancers then said, pointing to the fact that the profile was not yet verified and, of course, you too were sceptical.

Thus, given Cillian's aversion to social media, you brushed off your friend’s excitement and told them to ignore this person who, clearly, was not Cillian Murphy. You were thinking that this was nothing more than a prank. But curiosity got the better of you anyway, and you decided to investigate.

Taking a leap of faith, you pulled out your phone and, with a mix of apprehension and hope, sent a message to the number you still had stored from your dating days.

"Cillian, is that really you commenting on my Instagram post or is someone playing a prank on me?" you typed, your words filled with both curiosity and hope. Hesitating for a moment, you pressed the 'send' button, watching as your message disappeared into the digital realm.

***

Back in Cillian's apartment, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. His heart raced as he unlocked his phone and read the familiar name lighting up the screen.

Eyes widening, Cillian let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "It's her," he whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Slowly, he began to type a reply, his fingers gliding across the screen. "It's me. You were great" he texted, his heart pounding in his chest and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of disbelief and excitement coursing through your veins when you received his message.

You quickly texted back, "Well, colour me surprised! Didn't think you'd ever join the 21st century and get on social media!"

As you awaited his response, you took a sip of your cocktail and looked around the bar. Your friends were chatting animatedly, unknowing of the conversation happening on your phone.

A few seconds later, Cillian's reply popped up. "Well, I figured it was time to embrace the modern world, even if I'm still firmly rooted in the past," he teased. You laughed and typed back, "Ah, the classic case of a technologically-challenged heartthrob!"

You couldn't help but enjoy the playful banter with him despite everything that happened between you in the past. You were rather drunk though too and it felt like old times yet fresh and exciting at the same time. It reminded you of the chemistry you had when you first met.

“Pretty much You know it” Cillian texted before another message popped up.” So, what are you up to tonight? Celebrating your big opening?" it asked.

"I am just shaking a leg at a local bar with some friends. What are you doing?" you replied, adding a winking emoji to indicate your mischievous tone, knowing very well that Cillian hated emojis.

“Watching TV, texting with you, drinking wine, pretending to be a cool dad. Not much really” Cillian replied, adding an emoji of a smiling face and sunglasses.

“You know how to use emojis? God, what happened to you?” you responded, rolling your eyes as both of you continued to exchange messages, sharing funny anecdotes from your respective evenings. The conversation flowed effortlessly, reminding you of the easy banter you used to have.

With each new text, you felt a strange mix of nostalgia and longing. It had been almost three months since you and Cillian had broken up, but there was still a lingering connection between you and then, out of the blue, Cillian's next message caught you off guard. "I miss you," it read. Simple and straightforward.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. The wound was still fresh, and you were afraid of opening it up again.

"Well, that's what happens when you break up with someone," you teasingly replied, trying to keep the conversation light, but Cillian did not let up.

“I regret breaking up with you," Cillian continued, causing you to almost choke on your drink.

This wasn't how you expected the conversation to go. But then again, nothing with Cillian ever went according to plan.

Taking a deep breath, you took the plunge and typed, "Listen Cillian, I admit that I miss you too. But you hurt me and this made things complicated. We can't just pick up where we left off."

The three dots appeared, indicating that Cillian was typing a reply. You held your breath, waiting for his words to materialize on the screen as the bar around you faded into the background.

"I understand," his message finally appeared. "But could we try? Just one date? Let's see where it takes us?” he then asked and you hesitated, uncertainty swirling within you. A part of you longed to reunite with Cillian, to see if there was still something worth salvaging. But another part feared getting hurt again, fearing that the age difference would always be a roadblock.

"All right, one date!" you finally replied, a mix of reluctance and hope in your response.

“Dinner tomorrow night?” he typed quickly, making your heart skip another beat.

“Dinner it is. But no promises about dessert!" you joked, lightening the mood again with your reply.

A beaming smile broke across Cillian's face as he read your response. It was a smile that could melt hearts, that could singlehandedly revive the 90s boy band craze. You almost regretted saying yes, but alas, the damage was done.

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