#Continuing to try and practice rendering. If this even counts as rendering

[chazchaschad]

[mariasont]

privacy, interrupted

waking up next to spencer on vacation is the perfect morning, until rossi walks in without knocking

pairing: spencer reid r x shy!reader warnings: fem!reader, post prison spencer, reference to sexy time the night before, reader is naked, kissing, established relationship, fluff prompt: here wc: 0.8k

You sense him stirring beside you, all cautious and considerate, like he’s navigating some delicate truce neither of you signed but both seem bound to uphold. Your limbs protest with sleepiness, practically begging you to ignore it, but your brain has other ideas, wide awake simply because it’s him. 

Your subconscious has apparently decreed that Spencer Reid isn’t permitted to be awake alone without your awkward, fumbling company.

And, honestly, you can’t bear the thought of him quietly awake, probably counting obscure facts or memorizing solitude, so, inevitably, your internal clock (diligently trained, very Spencer-oriented) kicks in every morning like some sort of lovesick, overly attached alarm.

Your eyes blink sluggishly open, and yeah, you’re already mentally cursing about the loss of precious sleep.

That is, until Spencer comes into view, giving you a sleepy-soft smile as soon as he sees that your awake that somehow justifies this sappy morning ritual you’ve cultivated.

“Hey there, beautiful girl,” Spencer murmurs, warm enough to render you mushy.

You manage exactly one very brave, extremely fleeting glance into his eyes — long enough for you to panic at just how intense his adoring gaze feels — before you promptly conclude that the only dignified response is burying your burning face straight into his chest.

“Morning,” you mumble, barely audible, and okay, sure, it's a weak greeting, but you're pretty sure he knows that your social capabilities are severely limited before coffee.

“How’d you sleep?”

His fingers leisurely map trails along your stomach, occasionally dipping lower, grazing along your thigh. Your breath stalls at his touch, instantly bringing you face-to-face with the very naked reality (literally) of your current state, and you're vividly aware of why you slept better than you have in years.

You squirm against him awkwardly, deeply thankful your mortification is safely concealed in the crook of his neck. You’re fairly certain there’s no scenario — no alternate timeline or parallel universe — where you’d confess out loud just how blissfully Spencer can apparently knock you out.

“Fine,” you mumble evasively.

Spencer’s fingers move to cup your chin, lifting your face until you’re forced to meet a pair of amused eyes. 

“Just fine?” He eyes you skeptically. “You were snoring pretty loudly for someone who slept just fine.”

You splutter out a laugh, embarrassed and giggling all at once, shoving lightly at his shoulder. 

“Spencer!” you squeak indignantly. “I absolutely, categorically, undeniably do not snore. Take it back right now.”

“Oh, I’m afraid the science disagrees,” he begins casually, hands running absentminded passes over your side as he explains. “Almost everyone snores at least occasionally. It happens when your throat muscles relax during deep sleep. It’s completely normal.” He pauses. “Some might even say cute.”

He punctuates his little speech with a tap on your nose, grinning when you wrinkle it at him. 

“Spencer’s, that’s —” you begin to argue, reader to counter his science, when he suddenly silences you with a kiss, stealing your voice mid-protest.

You try valiantly (well, sort of) to keep arguing, words stubbornly squeezing out between soft kisses that blur your logic.

“I’m serious —” kiss “— you don’t get to —” kiss “— to win arguments —” kiss “— like this,” you mumble, dissolving into breathless laughter as he continues, smugly aware he’s already won.

You’re giggling into yet another stolen kiss when a brisk knock at the door startles you apart, no time to process before Rossi strolls into the room.

“Hey, kid, we’re making coffee downstairs if you —” Rossi stops midsentence.

You barely have a second to manage a yelp before Spencer moves quickly, positioning himself like a very protective, and slightly panicked, human shield in an attempt to salvage your rapidly disappearing dignity.

“Oh my god, Rossi,” you groan from your makeshift hiding spot behind Spencer’s shoulder.

Rossi lets out a thoroughly entertained chuckle, clearly relishing in your horror. He doesn’t immediately move to leave, instead pausing in the doorway.

“Well, it appears you’re both quite awake already,” he remarks, mouth curving into a smirk. “But just in case you decide to join civilization at some point, I’ll put another pot on. Take your time.”

Spencer clears his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, Rossi,” he deadpans. “Maybe next time knock and actually wait for an answer?”

Rossi grins shamelessly, lifting his hands in exaggerated innocence as he backs toward the hallway.

“I’ll consider it, right after you two consider hanging a do-not-disturb sign.”

The second Rossi shuts the door, you collapse against Spencer, sighing miserably, “That’s it. Vacation over. Social life destroyed. We’re never leaving this room again until the end of time, or at least until everyone forgets what just happened — which, spoiler alert, they won’t.”

“End of time feels a little excessive,” he teases gently, nudging your jaw with his nose. “But if it means I get to spend a few more uninterrupted days with you, I might just let you have your way.”

You roll your eyes internally, half-heartedly pretending to be annoyed at Spencer’s ridiculously charming response. Honestly, it doesn't make sense how easily he dismantles your panic with one sentence and that stupidly cute smile. 

Still, your pride demands at least some resistance, even if your heart is enthusiastically voting yes to the bed-hibernation plan. So, fine — maybe hiding here forever (or at least for a couple days) wouldn’t be the absolute worst way to spend your vacation.

Actually, scratch that — it might just be your ideal outcome.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 2 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

[yumeaoka-chan]

A Little Clueless

Another part to what I'm thinking will be a mini series of oneshots❤️ Come get your food @pleaktale and @the-kr8tor 🤭

Pairing: Ekko x Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: fluff, flirting(eh), first kisses, no physical description of reader, can be read as any gender really, cursing, modern au(they're all in Hobie's universe, really)

Summary: You're confused about the relationship between you and your roommates. They're quick to remedy that.

“What are we…?”

The question slipping out of your mouth makes the two men lift up their heads to look at you, leaving the headrest called your thighs. You can feel your face heating up now at the attention you managed to draw upon yourself, mentally cursing yourself for voicing your thoughts. The movie playing on the television sounds like static to you now, a nervous sweat forming on the back of your neck as your wide eyes remain glued to the screen.

“Uh, I mean”, you stammer, trying and failing to explain yourself, given that they're looking at you expectantly. Eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner, Hobie sits upright on the couch, your hand slipping out of his hair from the movement. Laying his head back on your lap, Ekko shifts so that he's gazing up at you, confusion shining in his hazel brown eyes.

“What do you mean, trouble”, he mumbles softly, leaning in a bit to Hobie's hand that lightly scratches at his scalp. Their questioning stares are pricking at your skin and you shift ever so slightly, nervousness gnawing at your insides. Taking a deep breath, you pull your eyes away from the movie that you really weren't paying attention to anymore, willing away the flutters in your stomach. It was now or never.

“I-It's just… We don't act like normal mates”, you mutter, anxiously picking at your nails. Which is instantly stopped by Ekko grasping one of your hands, interlocking your fingers together and resting them on his chest. The action makes you blink and your breath hitch, before you shake your head and force yourself to continue speaking, trying to ignore the way your heart practically skipped a beat. Movie long forgotten about now, they both give you their full attention.

“You both have been… nice. A little too nice, actually. I mean, you take turns picking me up from work. I'm given things I want before I even ask and we're really touchy with each other. Not saying that it isn't normal for friends to be touchy. W-We also go on outings almost every two weeks, not to mention that picnic we had two days ago.” The feeling of Hobie resting his chin on your shoulder makes you tense up just a bit, the flutters in your stomach coming back ever so slightly. Taking a chance to glance over at him, you have to reign in the shyness that threatens to have you go mute at the sight of his pretty russet brown eyes gazing at you warmly. Wait, did you just call them pretty? Pretty…?

“I-It, uh, I… I know it's normal for friends to g-go on picnics and stuff. But it was such a nice one and you guys brought little candles and cooked such nice food”, you say hurriedly, trying to quickly make your point before your flusteredness got the better of you. Especially when they both let out soft chuckles, voices smooth and rich. This was starting to get out of hand. “I-I just think it was a little romantic for us just being roommates. It feels like we're d-dating, kinda…”

“Wha’ did you think we were doin’, lovie”, Hobie hums, voice deep and cool breath fanning your warm cheek. Lifting his head up off of your shoulder, you feel as he brushes his finger underneath your chin, gently turning your head to face him. Lopsided grin lighting up his handsome features, mirth gleams in his eyes and effectively renders you breathless. “‘S that wha’ you thought we were? Just good mates, all this time?” His words have you gobsmacked, mind scrambling to come to terms with what he'd just uttered. There's no way he actually meant that.

“Y-You're fucking with me… You guys don't really like me like that, right?” The weight on your lap is suddenly gone as Ekko lifts himself up now, hand holding yours pulling you a bit until you're so close to him that you can see your reflection in his sparkling eyes. A few white locs spill over his eyes and there's a smirk on his lips, amusement and something else you don't dare to think about swimming in his gaze. The sight of him makes you internally scream.

“Doubting our feelings for you? Guess we didn't do a good enough job of showing them, Hobes.” Man beside you chuckling at your roommate's words, you can't help the shiver that runs down your spine at the closeness of them both. Heart hammering in your ears, the sudden realization of everything leading to this moment threatens to overwhelm you.

“Guess so, ‘Ko. Wha’ say you, darlin’? Let us show you properly, yeah…?” Hobie's breath tickles your ear and Ekko's gentle, slightly calloused hand rests on the back of your neck. Flutters in your stomach now a violent churning storm, you swear you're dreaming. You have to be, this has to be one of the many dreams of them you'd already had. That's the only thing that would make this situation partially believable. Only, you're actually, most definitely not. Eyelids lowered and face close to your own, Ekko mumbles softly, breathily.

“Can we kiss you, baby…?” And, honestly, who were you to deny them? A nod from you was all it took before pillowy lips softly pressed against yours, gentle and sweet at first, making your eyes flutter shut. And when you leaned in for more, it grew hungry, passionate and absolutely breathtaking. Breath mingling and senses buzzing, his kiss is all taking, like he's drawing something out of you that you didn't know you wanted to give him so freely. Lips brushed along the shell of your ear as Ekko kissed you senseless, and only after he had fully gotten his taste of you completely, until you felt the full extent of his feelings for you, did he pull back, the both of you gasping for air. You were still reeling from his kiss before you were pulled into another by a hand underneath your chin.

Hobie swallows the gasp that escapes you, hunger evident in the way your lips slot together, piercing cool against your heated flesh. Your hand not held by Ekko reaches up to gently grasp the hair near the nape of his neck, making him press closer against you as he adorns you with his affection. Hobie kisses you like he's dying of thirst, like you are his only source of water and he wants to drown in you and you in him. Head spinning and breath effectively stolen, Hobie pulls back to give you both air. Blinking your eyes open, your chest heaves as you peer at him. He and Ekko, who had somehow moved during your kiss with Hobie and was currently resting his chin on the man's shoulder, both gaze at you with affection gleaming in their pretty eyes. Such pretty fucking eyes.

“Get it now, sweetheart”, Hobie huffs with a loving smile, taking a moment to press a gentle kiss against Ekko's cheek. “We're really fuckin’ crazy ‘bout you, love.” Nodding in agreement, Ekko takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, sweetly kissing the back of it and causing your poor heart to pound so hard in your chest that it practically aches. And when they both reach out to pull you into a loving embrace with you nestled between them, you want to kick yourself for ever doubting them. You wouldn't be making that mistake again anytime soon.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Alastor watching the princess and the frog by Disney ? It’s in lousiana in the 1920s so it would be perfect for him

absolutelyyyyyyy the princess and the frog is one of my fav disney movies from characters to soundtrack, so this one’s a bit longer. also kind of a part two but also not exactly

history ramble below

also i did some light research on new orleans history because if im gonna write alastor i should know. doggy i love me some history and this history is rich, depressing at times but also rich and meanful to know so i thought id share a little. from talking about the free the peoples movement, to the way women got their rights to their hair back that they didn’t have when enslaved only to have a law banning natural hair and hair wraps and so they decorated the wraps and used coloured fabrics effectively rendering the law useless, to the wealthiest black man of the 1870s for being a prospering business owner, the origins of how voodoo and other spiritual practices mingled perfectly with the pre established voodoo and how voodoo was predominantly black women who were highly respected, the first black man to be govoner in the united states in only 1871, a black woman named Rose Nicaud who opened the first coffee stand in 1800 and made enough to escape being ensalved. then there’s lighter topics like some of the jazz history and how it made various black stars like louie armstrong, and also how the language mingled to make the cajun french that’s sadly dying out, to the architecture that flourished through the varying clashes in culture between african, european, native and haitian peoples. if it’s not too upsetting to read i definitely suggest this page to have an insight on some of the quick history on new orleans, i enjoyed learning about the strength that many had during this time.

United teachers of new orleans < page i was reading

Warnings: jealous Al teehee, reader crushes on naveen and dr facilier (don’t mind me just projecting), cuddling, swearing, alastor doesn’t really know emotions good, fluffy banter, just some ushy gushy mushy tushy

Word count: 2k

The movie Bambi didn't even finish playing before the patrons started to filter out of the room heading to bed. First to go was Vaggie carrying a sleeping Charlie, Sir pentious promptly following along telling his fussy egg boys it was long past their bed time. Then it was Niftys turn to disappear, however she never said a goodnight only sped off leaving behind her vacant swishing rocking chair.

Then once Angel and Husk left, you had decided to just call it quits on Bambi, Alastor hadn't moved much or objected to you turning off the movie, only watching the projector as you scrolled through the app.

You stopped on the princess and the frog, grinning toward Alastor he sighed, getting a glimpse of your mischief from the corner of his eye. "Now what's this about darling?" Turning your body towards his fully facing him, you waited for his gaze to finally meet yours, and reluctantly it did. "Allow me to introduce you to one of, if not, thee best disney movies of all time; the princess and the frog," Alastor's finger rose as he took a breath to speak, but before he could say a word you interrupted him.

"Yes I know princess yuck, whatever Al. It takes place in New Orleans, its main focus is actually in the poorer area with the shotgun houses, and throughout the movie Tiana, the princess, travels through the bayou, oh! With Naveen one of the hottest princes, also it takes place in the twenties, oh!-" Before you could continue Alastor gently gripped your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily as he did so."What did you just?"

"Takes place in the nineteen twenties?" You asked, voice muffled from Alastors grip on your cheeks. "Before that dear." Your eyebrows raised looking at Alastor not trying to hide your confusion. "Naveen? One of the hottest princes?" Alastor hummed, booping your nose. "Yes dear, that."

"Yeah. duh dude he's one of the few princes that deserve the princess, he changes for Tiana, he's charismatic, funny, but nevermind that back to what i was saying. There's varying New Orleans culture littered through that might make you feel closer to home, all the music is jazz obviously." Opening your mouth readying to rant on about the Voodoo man that you adored, Alastor hushed you with his finger up to your lips.

"My sweet dear, I will watch this silly picture show so long as you stop rambling about it." Alastor wasn't truly done with hearing your rambling, he was enjoying hearing that you were such a fan of something that centred so close to home when it came to him however if he was going to watch it he rather not have it spoiled.

Giddily you clasped your hands together and hit play, your love for the film and excitement to see Alastors reaction may have made you slightly over enthusiastic just a bit. As the movie began you curled your feet up onto the couch, inching yourself closer to Alastor looking up to his face and back to the movie.

When Naveen got introduced on screen you accidentally gripped Alastors arm tightly shaking him. "My mannn~" You squealed happily, letting go of Alastor once you heard the unmistakable rattle come from him, a growl sounding out of his chest. You didn't pay much attention to him though, instead turning back to the projector and backing off Al. However Alastor wasn't too frustrated with the fact you touched him, but because you were being so ushy gushy over some fake man.

He was easily the same if not better than Naveen. Alastor was charismatic, charming, he could sing, play instruments, he didn't quite understand why you were so particularly interested in this Naveen. Hell, even Alastor had a similar outfit back when he was alive, he could've been Naveen when he was alive.

You didn’t notice Alastor having a mini tantrum in his own world, you were too engrossed in the movie. Suddenly you’ve gripped him again, pointing at the screen. "The shadow man, Al this is your kin!" You egged laughing maniacally at your own words.

Alastor’s face however brightened at the display of the voodoo man. "One of my fav songs." You whispered as Dr. Facilier began singing on screen. Cocking his head to the side Alastor looked down to you bouncing along to the song. "This fellow sounds similar to Husk." Alastor mentioned, watching intently at the shadows that crawled around Dr. Faciliers room, much like Alastors own shadows. "Yeah it really does sound like Husk. Strange, anyways, Dr. Voodoos hot too." Alastors static buzzed around the room and you had to hold back a giggle at the frustrated look on his face, despite the smile it was obvious he wasn't too happy.

"What's up Al, not liking the movie?" Static crackled around the two of you as you questioned him a little slyly as you could tell he wasn’t hating the movie. “No dear, it’s pleasant in comparison to some things i’ve grit myself through, however,” He paused watching you ogle at both the Dr and Naveen. “I can’t understand what’s so great about this Naveen you like. He’s a fool,” You scoffed at Alastors distaste for Naveen, you didn’t mean to make him feel frustrated at your adoration for the characters but it was endearing to see.

“What’s not to like about the man?” You state confidently but Alastor simply shrugged while humming indifferently. A beat of silence passed, the ending of the song playing out of the projector. “It’s just that,” Alastor started up again after a moment of silence, turning his body to face you hands folded in his lap politely. “You clearly have the odd reaction towards these gentlemen and I can't see why,” To give him credit he did look genuinely confused, and just as you were going to speak up he interrupted.

“And please do not say it’s because he is funny, charismatic, musically talented or sweet because I happen to hold all those same qualities!” He finished, hands thrown in the air like he said something especially spectacular. You had a soft smile present on your face watching him work through the sentence theatrically. “Well, Al you are, maybe i think the same about you?” Record scratch.

You cackled at his frozen state, patting his arm gently, cooing that you were only kidding, you turned back to the TV and the two of you decided to leave it at that.

Later on in the movie, when Tiana and Naveen are with the alligator going down the bayou singing about being human, you stared over at Alastor, your heart thumping at the sight of him. His arms were resting along the back of the couch, legs splayed out comfortably, posture sunken in, and his eyes lidded with a closed calm smile. His ear twitched and soon his eyes moved from the movie to you, quirking a questionable eyebrow at you.

Feeling slightly embarrassed for eyeing him up you tried to play it off by asking him a question. “Is there bayous in New Orleans, is that real?” You ask kinda dumbly, of course they were, you scolded yourself. Alastor didn’t seem to mind though he smiled widely, a chuckle reverberating out of him. “Why yes dear! Of course, I personally never lived close to the bayou, but it surrounds New Orleans, and I have been. It’s quite beautiful during a sunset but there’s tons of alligators.”

You leaned forward interested, but it seemed he’d stopped to refocus on the screen which you wouldn’t complain about. You not so discreetly leaned into his torso, arm still on the back of the sofa behind you, and thankfully he didn’t move when you leaned your body into him, instantly decompressing into his side.

They got to the scene where the gang is on the boat going through the bayou, the crocodile fitting in and playing jazz, when you turned to look up at Alastor seeing him already looking down at you. “What’s up?” You asked, watching as he scanned your face. “Well dear you’re just reminding me of home tonight, it would’ve been interesting to be able to show you where I lived, where I worked. Y’know when i did radio, most people didn’t know what I looked like so it came as quite a shock to some that I wasn’t what they imagined. Some were cruel, but my mother always taught me to be respectable if not respectful, so I managed to keep my grace.”

You giggle at his explanation watching him move his hand in all different directions, the radio host coming into play just at the mention of his job. “I’m flattered you would’ve wanted to show me your home n stuff, i wish it were possible.”

On the projector in front of you two, was the scene between Naveen and Tiana’s first date, where Naveen was going to propose. “They always get married so fast in these movies, you spend three days as a frog and suddenly it’s eternity!” You exclaimed humorously, Alastor scoffed an array of instrumental sounds electronically sounding out from him. “My dear it was common back in the day to get married quick, none of this lollygagging.”

You rolled your eyes blowing out air. “Would you get married to someone you knew for three days?” Alastor hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in exaggerated thought. “If it were you, perhaps, otherwise i’d attempt to lengthen it just a bit.” He reviled in the sight of you bashfully turning your head away, shy at his broad flirt. “You’d marry me, after only three days?” You questioned in disbelief, he hummed wrapping the arm he once had behind you, around you pulling you into him.

“Well I found you to be quite a treat the first day i met you, and decided i wanted to be around you for many days on. Is that not marriage worthy?” This confession shocked you slightly. You never expected him to say that he preemptively planned your blooming friendship nevermind that he equated that to being worth marriage. The movie played on in the background as you both watched each other’s faces.

“To me, dear,” Alastor started a smug smile stretching across his cheeks replacing the calm smile that stayed for so long. “It seems like you may unconsciously feel something towards me too.” Jaw dropping you stared at him confused. “What?” You scoff but Alastor only looked smugger.

“Come now, New Orleans centred movie? Jazz, cooking, even that dumbo man Naveen speaks french loves jazz music and dancing, oh and of course the ever so obvious voodoo, it’s almost like this movie is me, haha.” He laughed manically, eyes crossing as his body shook. It was quite the egotistical assumption on his part, but he wasn’t wrong.

You put it on for him but it seems for you too, you paid more attention to him half the movie, and you’ve been more interested in knowing real life facts about his home during his time then what story the movie was trying to tell. Maybe he was right, but even so what did him pointing it out accomplish? “Well that’s why i wanted to show you it, it’s got many aspects you’re involved with in it.”

You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for such a good save, however Alastor was keen and knew you long enough to catch your lies. “Sure dear, sure.” Al gave you a condescending pat on the head and you speedily swatted at him. The movie played on you once more captivated by Alastor’s reactions more than the movie itself, you’ve already watched it enough to know.

Tucked under Alastor’s arm, warm and comfy, you barely caught the sound of Alastor huffing out chuckles, gazing up towards the projection you playfully hit him. “Don’t laugh at his death!” That only made Alastor properly laugh, dropping his head back, neck cracking grossly. “My dear it was a lightning bug in love with a star! He got stepped on that was hilarious!”

Sounds of prerecorded laughter sounded out with his natural laugh, you didn’t actually care that he found it funny, only pretended too as you gave him a disapproving glare. As the movie closed in you felt a weird gloom wash over you, it was nice being alone with him by his side while you two relaxed. You didn’t want it ending, but alas Tiana and Naveen kissed turning them human, with the reveal that with marrying Naveen, she became a princess effectively breaking the curse, and the movie started with the end song.

“Well dear I did enjoy that, the voodoo was pretty boringly unrealistic, but it’s for children. I did enjoy the mentioning of foods, very common dishes even I enjoy, like gumbo. But alas it was still a pathetic little movie about mortal love.” Standing to his feet when he finished speaking, Alastor dusted himself off and snapped his fingers making all around you revert to what it was before movie night.

“Do you not want to be in love?” You ask softly partly hoping he didn’t hear you as by the time you stood from your spot, you regret saying it. “Well I certainly haven’t looked. Why disappointed?” Alastor bent himself backwards to look at you since you stood behind him readying to exit. Looking down into his eyes you felt hazy, maybe a little drunk on desire as you gently caressed his cheek. “Maybe I am,”

“Darling.” Alastor said sternly as he cracked himself upward, he bent down facing you this time and before he could talk you once again interrupted. “Can’t blame me can you?” Alastor seemed momentarily taken aback, gazing around lazily trying to collect his thoughts. “My dear, I'm uncertain with emotions like this as well as expressing them, love is foolish, however… if you were to tell me ‘i love you’ i would say it back.”

It confused you, what Alastor said, you couldn’t tell if he was mocking you and telling you he was going to lie about his emotions to spare you, or if he was egging you on attempting to get you to tell him your true feelings. Regardless you swallowed down any worries for the future instead focusing only on the now, and looked deeply into the soft red glow of his eyes.

“I love you Al,” With a cheeky smile you watched him stutter, the visible shock was clear, and you wondered if he actually expected you to say that. Just as you began to worry you fucked up, he bent down to your height. “I love you too my dear,” And with that he gave you the chastised kiss on the lips, before standing to his full height materialising his microphone. “Got to go dear! Duty calls!” And with that he seemingly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you to waddle tiredly to your room. Little did you know that Alastor whisked himself away to have a minor panic attack in the safety of his radio tower, not believing himself and his broad actions, nor could he believe the pounding in his chest and flutter in his heart.

[another-lost-mc]

I come to share an idea with you in case luck is on my side and you interested to expand it-

I can't stop thinking about the MC who has a crush on Lucifer but somehow ends up moaning his name while making out with Mephisto 🤔🫢 (I don't think MC and Mephisto have a romantic relationship yet, maybe it's more like ons or something similar???)

To be honest, your name somehow popped to my mind when I thought of this idea 😆 Maybe because I read your smut fic too much lol—

Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a fantastic day 🤍

give me time, I'll change your mind

pairing: mephistopheles x gn!reader

content: nsfw. smut. friends (frenemies?) with benefits. jealousy, teasing, cursing, degradation, slut-shaming. reader has unresolved feelings for lucifer (one-sided).

word count: 1.3k

Groans and whimpered curses spill effortlessly from your lips as long, dexterous fingers graze the spot inside you that makes you tremble. Your body feels like a livewire, overwhelmed by the barest touch of leather against your bare skin and little nips of teeth against your throat. He nudges your head back for better access and you tip your head back with a sigh. It feels so good and your mind is lost in a blissful daze of his creation.

You don't realize something is wrong until there's a sharp intake of breath, and the gloved hand stretching you open suddenly grows still. Mephisto lifts his head from where he was trailing kisses along the curve of your neck, and he narrows his eyes angrily at you.

"I'm knuckle-deep inside your greedy little hole and you can't remember my name, pet?"

Your mouth falls open in mortification when you realize what you've done.

This isn't the first time you've gone to him for relief. He accepted your casual physical arrangement and you both agreed discretion was best. He obliged when you were in the mood, even though more often lately he was the one that initiated first.

He was always careful about coming up with flimsy excuses for you to stay behind after class and help him with the school paper. He fucked you across any available surface in the newspaper club office—bent over the arm of the sofa, against the door, flat on your back against his desk. He was generous with his attention without asking why you chose him, and maybe that was his mistake.

What would you tell him if he did? That he was a handsome distraction, someone to satisfy your needs while you tried to unravel your complicated feelings for the Avatar of Pride?

"I'm sorry, I—I don't know why..."

You're a terrible liar, and he doesn't fall for your blubbering excuses. His expression is cold, calculating, and he's piecing together the little secrets you've kept from him all this time.

"How many others do you turn to for a quick fuck because you can't have your precious Lucifer?" He practically spits his name like a curse as he pulls his fingers from your body with an obscene squelch. He continues stoking around your entrance lazily, taunting you so you don't forget that you were nearly begging for him to fuck your brains out—until you ruined it, that is.

His tongue is sharp and his words drip with scorn. He's trying to hurt you for hurting him. "Tell me, little human. Was I the only one willing to touch you? Was I your last resort, pet? Lucky me." He chuckles but it's a bitter sound, and he bares his fangs when his lips curl into a cold smile.

You're rendered speechless, mouth opening and closing uselessly when you struggle to think of something to say.

How could you be so stupid?

Stray tears trickle from the corner of your eyes when you blink. You can't even imagine how pathetic you must look in his eyes: your lips quivering pitifully as more tears threaten to fall, your legs spread wide on the desk where he stands between them, your pants and underwear tugged down to your ankles from earlier when he was too eager to undress you properly.

He startles you when his fingers press against your entrance and slide back in effortlessly. He adds another and begins stretching you again around his fingers, but it's different now than it was before. His movements are faster now, roughened by his frustration and some primal instinct to claim you. He had you first. Perhaps he just needs to remind you of what you can have with him instead of whatever fantasy you've imagined with Lucifer, that pompous prick—he doesn't deserve you.

Desire pools deep in your belly and you bite your lip to stifle your moans as he strokes you in all the right places. It feels wrong to enjoy this when you insulted him so cruelly. You feel guilty because you still want him—no one's ever touched you the way he has. You have a feeling that he knows that too, even if you won't admit it.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth; he licks at a stray tear clinging to your cheek before he pulls away. "Don't worry, pet. I'll still take care of you, even if no one else will."

There's a soft zip and a metallic clink as he undoes his belt with his free hand. Once he frees his cock, he moves lightning quick—his fingers slip from your body so he can grip your waist with both his hands. He drags you forward until the only thing keeping you from falling off the edge of the desk is his hips pressed against yours.

You barely manage to grip the edge of the desk to brace yourself before he thrusts inside you with one deep stroke. He gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch, panting lightly while he watches you squirm on his cock. His hair falls carelessly over his face and sticks to the light sheen of sweat trickling down his temples.

It feels like the calm before the storm: he looks fierce but determined. "Let's see if you can still moan his name by the time I'm done with you," he sneers, groaning deep in his chest when he pulls back, teasing your entrance with the fat tip of his cock. He slams back inside, fucking you like he's trying to tear you asunder with the rough, punishing pace of his thrusts. His filthy praise about how well you take him and how perfect you feel around his cock puts you back together again.

The desk rattles underneath you and the desperate, feral noises you're both making can probably be heard down the hall, but he doesn't stop until you come on his cock with a broken cry. He fucks you through your release and hisses when you clench around him, and he finally grunts as he empties himself into you.

After he catches his breath, he groans quietly as his softening cock slips from your body. He tucks himself away, fastening his belt while he stares at the tantalizing sight of his cum trickling from your hole. Usually he fetches a damp cloth for you to clean yourself with, but he doesn't do that tonight. He helps you off the desk and slides your clothes back into place. His hands are surprisingly gentle and you realize he's not trying to mock you—there's something possessive in his gaze instead. Your underwear and pants are sticky from the mess he's made of you, and he can already see little wet spots forming where it soaks into the fabric.

By the time he leads you outside where his chauffeur is waiting, it's as if nothing unusual happened between you tonight. His car pulls up at the House of Lamentation to drop you off, and like all the times before, watches to make sure you make it inside safely. You feel the weight of his gaze on your back until you close the door behind you.

The others must be busy because no one comes to your room to bother you, and you're grateful that you don't have to make excuses for your wrinkled appearance and musky smell. You take a warm bath before bed to soothe the dull ache between your legs. The lingering scent of his sweat and cologne on your skin has faded by the time you put on your pajamas, and you leave your D.D.D. on your desk so you're not tempted to call him. You toss and turn, mind racing with memories of what happened tonight and the fleeting sense of uncertainty and anticipation about what to expect when you see him tomorrow.

Eventually you fall into a restless sleep, but the crimson eyes you normally dream about are murky-green instead.

read more: mephistopheles masterlist | obey me! masterlist

[mintkookiess]

It's Always Been Her.

A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)

Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it

Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ

Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated

(Pls be nice ty)

Love,

Mint

P.S. AO3 saw it first here!

Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.

"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.

"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.

But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.

"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.

"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.

It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.

"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.

Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.

Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.

She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.

Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.

Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.

It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."

After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.

"You still love her."

Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.

But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.

Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.

He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.

The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.

Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.

To run.

To hide.

To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.

His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.

As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.

She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.

If that was even possible.

Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.

She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.

Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.

Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.

Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.

Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.

Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.

He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.

Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.

But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.

Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.

She didn't even feel any pain.

Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.

It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.

Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.

Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.

It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.

"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.

"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.

He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.

"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.

But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.

Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.

Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.

She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.

Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.

He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.

So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.

His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.

She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.

Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.

"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.

Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.

The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.

"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.

She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.

It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.

How could he do that to her?

To destroy her trust?

Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.

"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.

She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.

She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.

But now, it wasn't her home anymore.

Fin.

See more of my Miles content here babes!

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[kaizokuniichan]

Attention Part 4 - Beef

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Afab Reader (referred to as she/her) x Trafalgar Law

Summary: Law and Zoro finally face off in a slightly heated discussion about you

CW: Brief mentions of slavery and violence, slightly toxic male “Bro” like behavior. You are the prize after all.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Next Chapter: Part 5

Word Count: 2.2k

MDNI. Even though this chapter does not contain any explicit content, the rest of the story does. Please respect this disclaimer.

I was originally going to present this chapter as a two-parter because I didn’t want to leave it as a cliffhanger, but the first part is completed and I’m still working on the second part and I wanted to finally release something for this story. I hope you’ll enjoy this little snippet and I will try to complete the next part soon. Happy Reading!

(Divider by @/cafekitsune and banner by @/eelnoise

Law couldn’t be more thrilled. Somehow, blessedly, you would be staying with him.

More simply, it would be you and the other remaining Strawhats on the journey to Wano, but the details of your failed rendezvous were irrelevant. For now he could at least continue enjoying your company.

Re-coordinating the plan was difficult, though having dealt with the Strawhat captain made Law more skilled at adapting to irritating deviations. His crew was a godsend for they were practiced in anticipating his needs before even being asked. Their reunion had filled him with the realization of how close he’d been to never seeing them again. Would they have forgiven him? Would they have even cared? Would they harbor any resentment for him abandoning them? It took great difficulty to prevent himself from falling down a rabbit hole of self-loathing, but it was combatted with his gratefulness for having such dedicated and devoted people in his life. He’d also internalized your guiding words which reminded him that there wouldn’t even be a dependable and trustworthy crew of his if there weren’t a great captain to lead them.

His mind and heart had been a jumbled mess on the days leading to Zou. A shard of his heart was being taken away, and he feared it would make the rest of him collapse in a way his own Devil Fruit wouldn’t be able to fix. He’d dreaded the moment he’d leave you behind—even more so when you’d clung to him, rendering him frozen with your unshed tears, a suffocating lump lodging in his throat. He’d never seen you look so small and defeated, shriveled as your vivacious essence was drained. Any doubts of your feelings for him were wiped clean when you’d whispered softly how guilty you felt for wanting to stay with him.

Despite your anguish over your blasphemous confession, a part of him— more mountainous than he cared to admit—was delighted that he’d somehow nestled himself within your heart. He’d kissed you so fiercely, pilfering the breath from your lungs, and uttered thankful praises against your lips for painting his world a little brighter—saturating it with your sweetness.

Now that your time together was extended, he had the luxury of hosting you within his domain. Almost daily he struggled with the task of remaining discreet and careful not to further exacerbate the brewing tension between you, him, and Zoro. Not so secretly Law wished the mossy-haired swordsman had joined the others in their rescue of their cook, though he soon realized how futile that would have been given Zoro and the Cook’s contentious relationship.

What was even more concerning was Zoro’s audacious hovering—the man never let you out of his sight. Evidently you and him had engaged in some sort of tryst and now he’d magnetized himself to you and was digging in his heels. Law had taken for granted the minimized scrutiny he’d had aboard the Sunny and how greatly it’d worked in his favor. Now back on the Polar Tang he was forced to maintain the veneer of a respectable host. Ultimately he found himself lying awake at night, wishing to carry you back to his quarters and lavish you with his mouth and body every second of every day it took to reach Wano.

The question now was: where would everyone sleep? How would they divvy up the common areas? The Polar Tang was quite large, but it was uncertain if it could comfortably house 8 guests. The easiest solution was to drag in the spare cots from the infirmary and send all of the men to the men’s quarters.

With strained indifference he’d sent you and Robin to stay with Ikkaku, whose keen eyes took notice of him lingering in the doorway as you settled in. Between her and Robin he felt far too exposed, but it was understood that they’d never mention anything about it. Not to him anyway.

As the sun dipped into the horizon amongst brushstrokes of apricot and magenta, the mighty sub made its descent, hurtling deep into the ocean’s depths. While the Heart Captain sat in his office a soft knock wrapped at his door.

“Hey Captain,” popped Bepo’s head from the doorway as Shachi squeezed past to join him, “that one Strawhat guy was looking for you earlier.”

Massaging his temples, Law prayed that no one else had tampered with anything else of importance.

“If it’s their shipwright tell him we’ll arrive at the next island in a few days’ time, so he can get the materials to fix that tank Long Nose-ya busted.”

Bepo scratched his head as Shachi struggled to hold in his snicker—he’d been complicit in pranking the sniper after all.

“No, it’s that green-haired swordsman who’s been wandering around all day and knocking things over with those swords of his. I think he’s lost but he won’t tell anyone where he’s trying to go.

He’s probably looking for you, Law thought to himself, remembering how you’d spent most of the day sleeping.

“Figures. Bring him and his astronomically pathetic sense of direction in here.”

“Who’re you calling pathetic,” came a grunt from the other side of the door before Bepo stepped aside.

“Actually Captain he’s right here.”

“Yes I see Bepo, thank you. You both can leave. And Shachi, stop encouraging the Strawhats from wreaking anymore havoc. We have too long of a journey together. We can’t afford anymore repairs.”

“Aye aye sir,” Shachi saluted, failing to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face as he ushered Bepo out of the room and closed the door.

Law and Zoro were finally alone, which had never actually happened before they’d arrived at Zou. Much to their surprise they’d formed a delicate alliance, one that stemmed from their disdain for the ludicrous mourning over Kanjuro’s crude drawing and their shared excitement for meeting a ninja. They’d become tentative acquaintances—save for the awkward chill that surged between them whenever you squeezed in to link your arms with theirs. Side-glancing each other over the top of your head, they reluctantly folded as you guided them along.

Zoro leaned against the desk a few steps from where Law sat, who frowned as the force of the other man’s weight knocked over his lamp.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking anything but.

“What is it that you want Zoro-ya.”

Taking a moment to answer, he ran his finger over the hilt of Wado Ichimonji.

“Where’s she sleeping tonight?”

Setting down his pen, Law swiveled around to face him.

“Somewhere you’ll never be able to find.”

The perilous edge in Zoro’s eye made him snort.

“Relax Hercules. She’s with Nico-ya in Ikkaku’s room.”

Blowing out a breath, Zoro shifted on his feet. “Surprised you didn’t drag her to your lair.”

“Are you saying I’m Hades?”

The genuine befuddlement crossing Zoro’s face prompted Law to trudge neatly along.

“I might’ve thought about it but i figured it would be inappropriate to grant her the privilege in front of everyone.”

Zoro smirked and Law relaxed, leaning back in his seat.

“I would if I could though.”

Zoro glanced aside to the disorganized pile of books stacked in a corner.

“Everyone knows you know. Even your crew.”

“I know.” Law laid his hands over his stomach, drumming his fingers. “But I can at least maintain the illusion that we’re all keeping it professional.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m lookin grab her right now and take her to that...observation aquarium-thingy she likes so much. Makes for a very romantic setting.”

With a scoff Law turned back to his desk. “Good luck finding it.”

A bark of laughter whisked the tension aside as Zoro removed his katanas to lean them next to him against the desk. Carding a hand through his hair he turned to face Law properly.

“I can see why she likes you so much.”

Law’s brow twitched as he was unable to tamp down his confusion.

“She likes people who give it to her straight. Bet you’ve said things to her that most people would consider rude.”

He was momentarily stage-hooked to his first encounter with you and smiled.

“One day I basically told her she looked like shit. Like she hadn’t slept for a week.”

“I see,” Zoro replied, concealing his laugh with a fist over his mouth. “Did she...ever tell you why she has so much trouble sleeping?”

Of course you had. It’d been one of the very first offerings of yourself you’d entrusted him with.

“Almost every night for weeks on end, without even breaks sometimes, they forced me to participate in those underground fighting rings under the threat of being sold as a slave to a Celestial Dragon. All thanks to my shitty parent’s debts. And ever since, I’ve been like a prisoner in my own mind. I don’t think you realize how much you’ve helped me.”

“Yeah, she told me.”

Zoro scratched his jaw.

“She still has those nightmares you know, even now. But I imagine you’ve provided the perfect late-night distraction for her.”

Law’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I thought she was with you during all of those late nights. You both seem so close after all.”

“Well. Shit,” Zoro shook his head, “I guess we were both missing our opportunity.”

“I guess we were,” Law affirmed with a wry smile.

A blanket of comfortable silence settled before Law turned back to re-open his book.

“Looks like I’ll have to work harder to find a way to steal her away.”

Zoro’s head snapped back to him, eye gleaming with careful warning.

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Law’s face gave away nothing as he flipped the pages of his book.

“You sure? I can be very convincing. My crew seems to like her already. I’m sure she’d fit right in.”

“She’s not the type to abandon us just because she fell a little for your pretty boy charms,” Zoro muttered, leaning closer.

“Well it seems your Mr. Cool act hasn’t been enough to keep her full attention, so you never know.”

Zoro’s mouth curled in a taunting sneer.

“I definitely had her attention a few weeks ago in our kitchen. And I was also smart enough not to cut it short by the way.”

Law snapped his book shut, bristling as he stood up.

“She told you about that?”

“Not directly. I could just tell. She said it was good though.”

His body eased with relief. He’d been worried he hadn’t given you enough during your last encounter. It was good to know you’d at least liked it. He’d give you so much more if you let him.

“Well luckily I have ways of bringing her to me discreetly, if she wishes. And we’ll have plenty of privacy for me to service her properly.”

Zoro leaned closer, not quite touching his nose to Law’s but close enough to feel the heat from his body.

“Don’t think it’s gonna be that easy to take her just because you made her cum.”

Law countered with unwavering eyes, “I don’t know if you’re trying to offend me Zoro-ya, but this thing between us is much deeper than just satisfying her sexually, and I think you’re underestimating that.”

“I’m not underestimating shit. That’s why I’m telling you. I won’t back off, and I’m guessing you’re not either, so this ain’t personal but I’ll fight you for her if I have to.

Their aggressions squared off until Zoro shifted back to tuck his katanas safely back into his haramaki.

“You’re lucky you’re too noble of a guy to play around with her heart, otherwise I’d have to slice you up just for wasting her time.”

Law remained stood at his desk, arms folded.

“And I know you’re too honorable of a man to sacrifice the greater good of our alliance for some non-beef with me. It’s nothing personal on my end either.”

Fully finished with the conversation, Law sighed and held out his hand. “I’m sending you back to the men’s quarters now since I do not trust you to find it on your own.”

“You’re just trying to get rid of me so you can-“ but his reply was cut short as he was teleported out of the room, replaced with a dirty sock that flopped to the floor.

Collapsing back into his chair, he threaded his fingers behind his head. Considering Zoro’s accusation he now considered actually teleporting himself to Ikkaku’s room and stealing you away. Before he could talk himself out of it he focused on a discarded hairbrush and landed softly on the carpet. You were still sound asleep in your bunk, tightly wrapped in your blankets. As he approached your bed he considered an item inconspicuous enough to swap himself with without being too obvious that his presence had been the reason for your absence.

Settling on a pen, he bundled you up in his arms and swiftly warped back to his room, setting you down on the bed just as your eyes cracked open. His heart fluttered as you gave him a dreamy smile.

“I was wondering when I was going to see you.”

[obetrolncocktails]

To the Stars Who Listen | Jake Kiszka X f!Reader

📸: @j.bakermedia on Instagram

Warnings: MSG Discussion including dreams coming true, Jake fluff, tears, and lots of them, oh and some more fluff fluff fluff

Word Count: 1,429 (A quick read)!

A/N: I literally wrote this mini fic while watching the livestream and crying, so I hope you guys enjoy. 😭😭😭😭

“We fucking did it,” He said breathlessly, practically flying into your arms, knocking you off balance. You grounded yourself quickly, wrapping your arms around him. “We fucking did it,” he said again into the curve of your ear, this time, his voice trembling as he repeated himself. You tucked your face into the curve of his neck, kissing his slick skin. Watching from his side of the lower bowl, his passion while playing had rendered you speechless, dissolving your composure into little more than a helpless pool of tears for the majority of the show. 

“I am so incredibly proud of you, Jake. My baby. Your dreams just came true!” You hugged him as tight as you could, swinging him from side to side as his breath hitched, trying his best to not sob. Lifting your face, you looked up at him, aware of the tears that streamed down his face a thin, glistening line. You watched as his lips quivered. Reaching up, you swiped the tears away from his cheek, moving to squeeze his shoulder. “Go to Josh. You need him more than you need me.” 

“I-” he attempted to argue, but you shook your head and reached for his hands. “You’ve worked your entire life for this. I’m not going anywhere. Go to him.” He looked at you for an extended moment, more tears welling in his eyes. You reached for him, hugging him tight one last time and kissed him, pulling his face to yours.

 “I love you, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips. 

“I love you too,” you told him, squeezing his hands below you. 

“I’ll find you,” he assured you and you nodded. 

“Go!” you practically shouted at him, pushing him away with a chuckle. 

“Okay!” he grinned, wiping his eyes, squeezing your hand one last time before turning to sprint to find his brother. You watched him move, searching the backstage area for Josh until he spotted him. The tears continued to flow as you watched them embrace, their expressions of utmost earnestness as they cried together, laughed together and held each other. You hugged yourself as you watched them, smiling when you saw Danny and Sam doing the same. 

“We fuckin slayed Madison Square Garden,” Danny shouted with amazement. 

“I need a fuckin’ beer,” Sam admitted, offering an exhausted chuckle.

The boys’ families filtered backstage shortly after, the boys doling out hugs to everyone, but taking special time for their parents. You watched as Karen kissed her boys, throwing her arms around their necks and kissing their faces. Lori reached for Danny, and though he towered over her, he pulled her in, wrapping his body around hers. 

“They were shouting your name,” Lori told him. “All of them,” she squeezed him tight. “I am the proudest I’ve been since the day you were born.” 

You stood to the side, wiping at your dripping nose and swiping away the tears. 

“Awe, come here,” Josh said, reaching his arms out to you, hugging you tightly. You sobbed freely over his shoulder, squeezing him tight. “I’m so proud–I don’t know what to say,” you chuckled through your nose. 

“So don’t,” he said. “Just–take it all in,” he said, squeezing you one more time before stepping back. “Thank you for believing in us, and even more importantly, in Jake. He loves you so much, Y/n. You have no idea.” 

You wiped at your tears, becoming aware of how disheveled you most definitely looked. “Speaking of the devil,” He said, taking a step back as Jake reappeared in front of you, his hair combed, looking slightly refreshed. Everyone around you went silent, turning to stare at you and then back at him. Jake stepped forward into the circle of people.

“Today is a huge day for all of us,” Jake said, his gaze moving over everyone. “It’s been my dream to perform here on the same stage as so many legendary performers. Since we booked this venue, I’ve silently panicked and dreaded,” he laughed, and everyone smirked in response “This performance…It’s a lot to live up to,” he explained. “And I couldn’t have done it without these three,” he said, waving his brothers over, who wrapped their arms around each other. “I love you guys so much. Thank you for helping me live my dream every single day. I’ll never have the words to truly explain how profound of an honor it is to be your brother and partner in crime.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw people filtering into the backstage area, and you immediately recognized your parents and your siblings, coming to stand quietly by Karen and Kelly. Confusion rattled your mind as you mouthed to them “What are you doing here?” Your mother tilted her head toward the boys, silently telling you to pay attention to them. 

“And you,” Jake continued, looking from your family and back to you. “You are the love of my life,” he said, taking a step forward. “I said that this was a dream to perform in,” he explained, “but I’ve realized over the last two years that it’s okay to have more than one dream in life.” He took a final step forward, taking your hands in his. “When we signed the deal to perform here, I was ecstatic, but there was one more thing I wanted to do that would complete this dream of mine.” You watched as he dropped one of his hands, digging into his pants pocket. In a moment of awe and amazement, you watched as he dropped to the floor on one knee, opening a black velvet ring box, revealing the most gorgeous engagement ring you’d ever seen. 

“Jake…” You began, but he spoke again. 

“Y/n. I’ve waited my entire career for this night,” he explained. “But I’ve waited my entire life for you. Will you make my dreams come true by marrying me?” He asked, his smile the widest you’d ever seen it, his eyes filled with wonderment and hope. You chuckled out of surprise, covering your mouth, feeling your throat ache as the tears began to pour all over again. You nodded yes. 

“Of course, Jake. Yes, I’ll marry you.” He pulled the ring out of the box and reached for your hand, putting it on the wrong finger. 

“That’s the wrong–” Josh blurted before Karen reached her hand up to cover her son’s mouth. 

Jake apologized quietly to you with a grin before switching to the appropriate finger. You leaned down to kiss him, not wanting to wait for him to move upright. He pulled you into him, kissing you breathlessly, uncaring of his family’s presence. Everyone cheered and clapped as you lifted your hand in the air, showing off the ring. 

“She said yes!” Sam shouted before beginning to hoop and holler over the family. Lori and Karen took ample pictures while Kelly and Daniel Sr. butted shoulders with soft grins. 

***

“I got you something,” you told Jake as you both stepped into the hotel room. “When you accused me of being weird earlier,” you grinned, stepping into the bathroom. You reappeared with a huge bouquet of red roses, finished with baby’s breath in a large vase. There must have been fifty roses in the bunch. You watched as his eyes widened at the arrangement. “This is why I couldn’t make it to soundcheck. Surprise!” You watched as his cheeks pinkened, his eyes growing glassy once more. He took the vase, bending to smell them before setting them on the closest dresser before returning to you. 

“Thank you so much,” he said, lifting his thumb and forefinger to your chin, tilting your face up to kiss your lips, lingering there for a long time, as if communicating to you all the words that he didn’t know how to put together just yet. 

“It’s the least I could do for my rockstar boyfriend,” you said, raising your eyebrows as you hovered above his lips. 

“Correction. Rockstar fiancée,” he said, reaching down for your hand, rolling the ring around your finger. You lifted your hand for him, looking at the ring.

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you said. “Really. And getting my family there? You have a knack at never letting something be completely about you. You’re selfless to a fault.”

“Well, let me show you how selfless I can truly be,” he said, reaching to turn out the light and pull you into the bedroom, the walls illuminated by the soft lights of New York City, the sounds of cars whisking by on the streets below.

Taglist: @doodle417 @watchingovergvf@capturethechaos @ace-harrington @gvfvanfleet @flo-gvf @sacredthefran @jjwrites @jmkho @joshsindigostreak @gold-mines-melting @allieisacrybaby@sammysprincess@gretavansara @dannythedog@demolitionndann @gretasmokerising @sonicbaptism@vixenstail @hearts-hunger@malany-gvf@cal-a-bungaa @rhythm-of-space@alwaysonthemend@meetingthestardust@ageofsinners @katelynn-gvf @ageofwagner @sacredthethreadgvf@takenbythemadness @st4rdust-ch0rds @joshysgirl @gvfvanfleet @gretasfallingsky @madneedshelp @lipstickitty @myownparadise96 @meetingthestardust @vanfleeter @sacredthefran @mini-vann @sacredthethreadgvf@love-and-greta@gretafaninheat @positivegvfthings @loveisonaroll@writingcold @tearsofjosh @meetingthestarcatchers @tripthelightfatality @puzzle-gvf @takenbythemadness @intotheether-gvf @whiterosekiszka

[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

The blind date

Pairing: Loki x Female reader

Summary: You have been set up on a blind date by your friend Maria, the night ends up not as you would expect!

Word count: just under 2K

Warnings: strong language, sass and smut. What can I say I'm a horny bitch. Under 18's do not interact.

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🖤

I'm hoping to get back into writing so if you have any writing ideas for me, send me a message!

It was Saturday night and you gazed at yourself in the mirror, as you adjusted the straps of your black and emerald dress.

"hmm, good enough",

you shrugged, popping your lips and clicking the lid back on your lipstick.

You where beginning to regret allowing your friend Maria to set you up on this ridiculous blind date, I mean come on, who even did blind dates anymore? And on your one night off this week! Being a personal assistant was tough, but even more so when your boss is none other than Professor Steven Strange, who ironically seemed to have no concept of time when it came to the never ending set of tasks he had for you.

After grabbing a cab, you found yourself arriving at a nice Italian restaurant. Not too fancy but certainly not cheap either, you braced yourself trying to imagine who Maria's friend from work could possible be before you heard a booming voice yelling,

"Lady Y/L/N?"

You turned around confused as all hell to see a tall golden retriever of a man with long blonde hair and a massive smile.

"Please, call me Y/N, I take it you must be Thor? Maria's friend?" you smiled, looking up at the literal god as he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

At least he was a gentleman, you could certainly give him that. He was already a cut above the usual fools you dated, who thought the height of manners was to apologise for belching at the dinner table, rather than avoiding it.

The night continued with much laughter and chatting, man, this guy could talk, and eat, did you mention eat? As he scoffed his way through his fourth Pizza and his sixth bottle of wine, You noted he began to resemble a drunken labrador, playful but a fucking mess.

As much as you enjoyed his boundless energy and adorable goofyness, there no spark, (which was ironic considering the man literally shot sparks from his body) and no way in hell that you where babysitting his ass.

"I'll make sure he gets home safe and that's that."

You thought to yourself as you both began leaving the restaurant. Thor grabbed your jacket and slapped it onto your back, causing you to stumble forward. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leaning on you, babbling about how Midgardian wine, had nothing compared to potency of Asgardian mead. Which for all his talk, had managed to render him in this sorry state.

"oh, you must come back to the tower and try some, you'll love it lady Y/N, it is nearly as good as the popping delicacies you Midgardians create" Thor slurred while holding his hand out to hail a taxi for you both.

"Sure" you agreed through gritted teeth, even if only doing so to make sure his drunken ass got home safe, the thought alone making you giggle.

Your heels echoed as you walked off the elevator into a cavernous communal area, Thor still leaning on you for support, he headed straight towards the kitchen area, leaving you to drape your jacket over the sofa in front of you.

"this is some place, Thor. " you smiled walking towards the floor to ceiling glass window wall the looked out over New York, your voice practically bouncing off the walls. Being this high above the city, almost made it look peaceful, the warm glow from the street lights giving you a calming feeling, as you stood there and admired the view.

You where interrupted when a chorus of fallen pots and pans hit the floor surrounding the drunken thor, with his tongue sticking out in concentration as he hunted for his prize.

"Brother, must you make such a racket. Can you and your conquest retire for the evening and leave me in peace?"

The voice echoed loudly, almost causing you to jump. You hadn't noticed the pale stranger, hidden in the shadows in a comfy seat in the corner of the room.

"I do have a name, you know." You hissed, raising your eyebrow at the audacity of whoever the fuck this stranger thought he was.

"and I'm sure he doesn't know it nor will be care after tonight"

The figure retaliated, closing over his book and standing up from his chair. his bright green eyes, glimmering in the darkness, clearly enjoying himself.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking over to Thor for his take on all this, only to see him, mouth full,surrounded by crumbs and hugging several boxes of pop tarts, ignoring both of you.

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you faced back towards the stranger, to find him inches in front of you.

He was tall, gorgeous with a smirk on his alabaster face and eyes glimmering with mischief.

He looked you up and down, keeping a solid poker face, while he gagued your reaction. He then glanced over to his brother looking like a hamster practically storing pop tarts in his cheeks for the long winter, and chuckled, casting his gaze back to you.

"forgive me my dear. I am used to my brothers.... companions.. being as disruptive as he is. "

nodding over to his brother who has since, sunk to the floor, hugging his pop tarts and snoring like a tugboat with sleep apnoea.

"since my brother has once again disappointed both myself and you, allow me to take over as gracious host for the evening."

he smiled, stepping over his snoring brother and directing you into the small bar adjacent to the room you were both in.

With a shimmer of green, two wine glasses appeared in his hands, as he offered you one. It was filled to the brim with an amber coloured liquid that resembled liquid gold and smelled utterly divine, you graciously took the glass and sunk into the cool leather sofa next to the fireplace.

"Asgardian mead is what my brother usually promises his dates, am I correct?"

You blinked, colour flushing to your cheeks, and beginning to wonder just how many people he had had identical nights with. Maria was going to get her arse thoroughly kicked when you next met her.

"You are correct, Mr?"

you enquired, trying to be polite. You knew exactly who he was. You recognised him from all the news articles back in 2012. The god who came to conquer New York, only to get his ass handed to him in spectacular fashion by the newly formed Avengers.

"Now now, come now my dear, don't play coy. Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief at your service"

he smirked, taking your hand to his lips and kissing it, His green eyes never leaving yours for a second.

Whether it was the mead, or this gorgeous man in front of you, every word and every stare seemed to be sending sparks straight to your already thoroughly soaked core.

Panicking, you swallowed more of the mead, hoping the god before you wouldn't notice how flushed you were while adjusting your legs to take some of the pressure off your aching core.

Vivid images flashed through your mind. You and the god of mischief in the throws of passion. His face buried between your legs, devouring your pussy like a starving man, and those emerald eyes, staring at you the entire time, never loosing eye contact.

You closed your eyes and shook your head, looking ahead to find Loki sitting across from you, smirking.

"I.. uh.. think this mead, may be stronger than I'm used to" you said, coughing slightly and continuing to blink rappidly as you sat your glass down on the table between you and Loki.

Looking back up, another image of Loki appeared sitting on the leather sofa. Legs spread and staring at you intently, his black dess trousers around his ankles and his hard, glistening cock in his hand as he pumped it back and forth.

You felt your mouth water as you looked around confused before finally looking down at yourself to find you where on your knees, completely nude, kneeling on the cold hard floor as he beconned you to crawl to him.

Your heart pounded in your ears, as you felt almost entranced, you needed to go to him, practically drooling at the sight of his hard leaking tip, moistening his massive hand.

Just as your hand was about to make contact with his thick thigh, the image disappeared, replaced with an amused looking down at you from the same position on the sofa, but fully clothed.

"As pretty as you look on your hands and knees, im sure the sofa is a much more comfortable place to sit"

He smirked. You squeezed his thigh, gripping it tightly as you slowly stood yourself up, making sure to give him a good show as you stood up.

Unable to take it anymore, you leaned in until you were nose to nose with him and said,

"Mischief indeed."

You said, barely above a whisper as you leant in and bit his lip before pulling back.

You gazed into his eyes, waiting for a response, as he let out a ferral growl before capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, grabbing your head and pulling you to stradle his lap.

"A god has the right to toy with his play things little one" he growled, his forehead still on yours as he gripped your hair, pulling you back to his wanting mouth and tongue, as he ground his hardening cock against your long since soaked panties.

You broke your mouth from his as you unbuttoned his shirt, his mouth moving to your suck your neck moving down to your chest as he slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, kissing and biting as he went, eliciting a symphony of moans from you. He pulled your dress down to your waist, exposing your chest to his mercy as you made your way to his belt buckle.

"Fuck me, you really are a god" you moaned grinding back against him as you admired his naked chest and throbbing cock.

"As you wish darling"

he whispered into your ear, the vibrations of his low voice causing you to shiver involuntarily.

A green light enveloped you both, as you were both stripped naked.

Loki pinched and sucked at your chest, while his hand travelled down to find your swollen neglected clit. You cried out as his fingers finally made contact, making you buck your hips, taking him deeper as you both groaned in unison.

Loki took hold of your ass, gripping it tightly as he began to thrust upwards, leaving you to the mercy of his glorious purpose as he relentlessly thrust into you. You felt a hot gush dripping down your thighs, as you screamed in delight, his cock hitting just the right spot, as he fucked your orgasm from you relentlessly.

"Fuck Loki I'm gonna..."

"Do it. Cum for me darling, I want to feel you fall appart on your gods cock."

He groaned, his breathing becoming erratic.

You cried out in extacy, arching your back as you felt the thick ropes of cum filling you completely.

As you leant back forwards your forheads clashed, both of you panting, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"Fuck, Loki, that was incredible"

You finally signed, after a moment of blissful silence between you both.

A green shimmer covered you again, leaving a cosy blanket wrapped around your naked body, Loki's softening cock still buried deep inside you. He wrapped his arms around your back and stood up, making you wrap your legs tight to his waist to hold on.

"I hope your dinner was enough sustenance for you darling. Your going to need your energy for the night I have planned with you"

Loki smirked, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss before teleporting you both to his Chambers for the evening.

Tagging some lovely people who may like this:

@lokisgoodgirl @michelleleewise @geminigirl0298 @lokischambermaid @holymultiplefandomsbatman @sarahscribbles @muddyorbs @wheredafandomat @mochie85 @cake-writes @coldnique @xorpsbane @lokiprompts @mistress-ofmagic @peachyjinx @space-mermaid-writing @word-addict-lisette @with-inked-solace @queen-of-mischief @faraum @xaquarianqueenx

[liamrrys]

01. by the flicker of candlelight.

𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘹 𝘦𝘷𝘵𝘩𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 —— ( 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘦 )

rated: t word count: 1.6k notes: pt. 1 of a cheeky two parter exploring quiet moments between rame and ev. just wanted to write for them again <3. had this song on repeat as i wrote this hehe. enjoy!! tags: @rc-catalog

“Rame, we need to stop making this a habit.” Eva sighs as she pours herself her final cup of heqet, shaking the jug as to not waste the last drops. She frowns when she realises her cup is only half-full.

Ramesses laughs softly at the sight of her displeasure. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” He takes a final sip from his own cup before pouring the rest into hers.

Eva’s only response was to plant her face into her hands, groaning as she ruffled the hair on the side of her head. “If you kill me now, I promise to be your servant in our next life.” It was already late at night, and they had been studying for hours. Her eyelids had grown heavy and her fingers were stained black with ink. Ramesses declared himself complete for the night, but Eva promised herself just one more parchment of practice before she would let herslef sleep.

She’d have liked to say that these efforts were made due to her “studious nature,” but her actual reasons were not as noble.

A few too many close calls with the epistates had rendered her fearful — curse her sharp tongue. After many evenings being caught by Amen himself, Eva aimed to lower any suspicion by proving herself useful as a scribe. With their next trip to Thebes the next morning, Eva took the night as an opportunity to prepare. 

“Tempting, neferut.” Rame sits himself on the table, beside Eva’s ink and parchment. He cocks his head to the side as if trying to land in her line of sight. “I imagine it would be funny to have you be the one to row me up and down the nile.”

“— Then we would not last long in that life either.” Eva dabs her pen into a pot of ink, continuing to write. ”The crocodiles will get to us before the sun even reaches its peak if I am the one rowing.” She manages a soft smile through tired eyes. It was times like these that she had been thankful for Ramesses’ company. Long evenings of writing would not nearly be as tolerable without his constant bickering (though gods forbid she would ever say it out loud).

As Ramesses sat closer to her, she felt herself calm, the only sounds filling the library were the scratch of her pen and the sound of their breaths, syncing to the cadence of each others. Out of curiosity, he unscrolls her complete works to examine them. He catches himself yawning as his eyes glaze over her writing, failing to realise how exhaustion came over him until that very moment.

“You don’t have to stay. We both have an early morning tomorrow.” Without much thought, she places her non-writing hand on his thigh, her eyes not leaving her scroll. Rame clears his throat at the contact.

“I could, but I know you’d be oh soooo sad to see me go.” He places his hand over hers, giving it a friendly(?) squeeze. He notices she doesn’t shake him away. “And who else is going to make fun of your chicken scratches?”

“It’s because you keep looking at me. You try writing under pressure.”

“Do I make you nervous, Evthys?” He raises a brow, teasing her. Rame doesn’t know if it’s the heqet, drowsiness, or both that fog his judgement, but his hand moves to brush a strand of hair from her eyes to tuck it behind her ear. Eva looks up at his touch, and he notices how the flickering candlelight reflects in the dark of her eyes; dancing and twinkling like the stars above.

“Ugh. Shut up.” She rolls her eyes at him playfully. “Go make yourself busy then. You’re distracting.” 

Rame holds his tongue from making another quip, a rare moment of restraint. Eva notices him shift, and stand up from right next to her. She tries to not look at him, keeping her head down and watching his movements through her peripherals instead. He disappears from her blindspot, though reappears into her senses when she feels a soft tug as gentle fingers comb through her hair.

“Rame?” 

“I’m keeping busy.” He sections off a tuft of her hair to braid. “Is this okay?”

“If it’ll stop you from watching me write.” Even with her face turned away, Ramesses knew her well enought to know that she was pouting through her words.

“Oh Isfet, just hurry and finish your page—“ He grumbles to himself, only to be met with the sounds of Eva’s laughter. 

In moments like these, Ramesses allowed his mind to wander — if he couldn’t have his dreams anymore, maybe he could indulge in a few fantasies. He imagines they’re back at the temple of Thoth; his and Eva’s relentless back and forth providing him a strange comfort, as if they had never been forced away to Thebes. Back when times were simpler. It was hard enough being discreet, hiding from the hunters that patrolled the alleys they practiced in; now they were expected to survive amongst their quarters. By the luck of the gods, Rame found himself living in the hunter’s lodges, so he had only ever returned to his room to sleep, as he found any excuse to stay away.

Late evenings in the library that started off as necessary practice quickly turned into a welcome part of their routine. It had simply been the logical choice: Eva kept herself out of trouble, and Rame stayed away from the watchful eyes of the hunters. Their constant meetings had nothing to do with the enjoyment of each other’s company.

Or the way Evthys felt her heartbeat steady when around him.

She tries to not enjoy his touch as much as she does when he fingers through her hair delicately. Ramesses pulls on each tuft gently, weaving plats into her dark curls. If she presses him on his actions, he’ll say that he’s doing her a favour. You won’t have time to fix your hair before going to Thebes tomorrow.

But she doesn’t protest, maybe enjoying the pampering a little too much.

He continues in their comfortable silence. Ramesses scatters which tufts he braids and which sections of her hair to artfully leave untouched. Eva’s hair is soft in his fingertips when he sections off parts to frame her face.

“Almost done!” She exclaims, turning back to smile at him. Rame doesn’t kick a fuss over how the braid he was fixing slipped out of his hands at her sudden movement. Instead he finds himself smiling back at her as a warm glow lay itself on her features, the contours of her cheekbones, her jaw, collarbone… her lips. For a moment he loses himself at the sight of her, snapping back into reality when she turns away to reward herself with a hurried swig. “——Did you fill my cup?”

“No. Why would I do that?” 

“Thaaank youuu, Ramee.” She says in a sing-song voice, letting her vowels drag in a melodical yet irritating way. Eva turns to look up at his towering figure, batting her eyes. “You’re going soft on me.”

“I’m going to shave your hair when you sleep.”

“Mhmm.”

Ramesses pulled a face. No matter how much he had tried to deny it, he had gone soft on her. Or maybe he always had been? Perhaps he only cared about her wellbeing to keep her, and therefore himself out of trouble. He shook those thoughts from his mind as he finished the last of Eva’s braids.

As if taking the words out of his mouth, Eva shrieks. “Good gods, I’m done!” Punctuated by the slamming of her pen against the desk. She stands up excitedly and turns to wrap her arms over Ramesses shoulder.

As if on instinct, he catches her by the waist and swings her to the motion of her force. “Eva! Calm down, you’re going to wake the whole settlement!”

She finds her balance and keeps him in her arms. Ramesses doesn’t pull away either. “Sorry! It just felt like I’d never finish.”

Still in each other’s embrace, they share a comfortable silence as Eva gazes into his eyes, lost in its darkness. Had he always looked this beautiful? She notes the way he’s looking at her — softly but with intent and feels her cheeks flush.

“Eva?” Rame’s voice is raspy and gentle, almost like a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Can I do something?”

Eva, looking back into his eyes, nods. She frees him from her grip, relaxing as she lets her hands rest on his collar instead.

Ramesses slides his hands from around Eva’s waist before reaching into the plat of his hair. Eva quirks her head at his actions, watching his hands as they unhook the silver charms he had imbedded into his hair before reaching over and clipping it onto the ends of her own smaller braids.

He removes his own charms until all of Eva’s smaller plats have clips, leaving him with only a handful left in his own locks.

“I know you favour gold, so I hope you don’t mind—“

“I’m sure you’ve made me look very beautiful, Rame.”

Not hard to do when you are already beauty incarnate. The words found itself imbedded in Ramesses’ throat, not daring to spill from his lips. Instead, he smiles teasingly down at her. “Now when you go to Thebes; you won’t be mistaken for a corpse.”

She groans and pushes him away.

“ I wish you still had dreams for me to haunt.”

[a-secret-garden00]

ᴘᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴏɴꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2

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| Word Count | 1k |

Heimdall didn't need to look into Odin's mind to know he was angry. Though the All-Father seldom let his emotions get the better of him, at least when it came to his own kin. Detecting when something was off had almost become an artform with him.

"Loki is determined to leave."

It was a simple statement spoken amidst note-taking, but Heimdall knew well enough that it was more of an accusation. "Is that so? Then the little traitor finally decided to act on his true intentions."

The old man hummed, quill continuing to scratch along the thick roll of parchment. "Can't blame him I suppose. Family sticks together, especially when one is...insulted." One single eye looked up, staring directly at him. "You uh, wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Heimdall knew this game well. If there was anyone who knew the All-Father best, it was him. Beneath his calm exterior, he was nervous. More than anything, he wanted answers to life's biggest questions. And the key was at risk of slipping away. 

"Heh, thought so." Odin smirked knowingly. "Once again, those eyes have rendered your actual brain useless."

He had seen it already—what the All-Father was going to order him to do. But despite his unwavering loyalty, pride reared its ugly head. "But All-Father—"

"You made a mistake, so what." The old man shrugged nonchalantly, "We can't all be perfect, or know when to keep our mouths shut," He muttered the last part, but his voice still retained the authority that he had been endowed with, and he wasn't going to make an exception even for the God of Foresight. "But I still expect you to fix it."

Avoiding eye contact was a rarity for Heimdall. But if there was one person he feared, it was the All-Father. He knew from experience that the king of the Aesir always found a way to deal out punishment, regardless of power or in his case, foresight. "Yes, All-Father."

He felt like a dog running with his tail between his legs. Diplomacy was something he left to his kin. And apologies to mortals was one of the lowest forms of humiliation in his eyes.

But she was predictable, and tracking her down was easy. The door to Baldur's former room had been wide open. She was sitting on the windowsill, leg swinging over the edge and a book in her hand. 

A part of him just wanted to hurry up and get it over with. But his pride was strong, and honestly, he couldn't resist the urge to antagonize her a bit before attempting to be...nice.

She didn't bother to look or speak until he was practically leering over her.

"Don't you know how to knock?" She turned the page, eyes steadily glossing over the written text. 

"The door was open." He plucked the book from her hands, ignoring her annoyed look. 

"And that gives you the excuse to lack common decency?" 

He ignored her question, instead looking over the small book she had been reading. "One of Kvasir's poems? Honestly, do you enjoy boring yourself to death?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Was there something you needed? Or did you just wake up and say to yourself, 'hey, it's been a while since I picked on the mortal, I should be an absolute pain in her ass today'?"

"Who says that wasn't what I needed from you?" He asked, holding the book out of her reach. 

"Little shit."

"Klutz."

"Know-it-all."

"Pathetic damsel." He was smirking already. Try as she might to be the bigger person, she was just like everyone else. Easy to provoke and manipulate.

She glared at him, but ultimately shook her head and caved. "I swear, I grow less intelligent every time I talk to you. It's like trying to reason with a toddler."

"Growing less intelligent is implying that you aren't already at rock bottom, Ditzy."

She rolled her eyes. "It really would kill you to give a compliment, huh?"

"Honesty is more valuable than sweet lies, wouldn't you agree?"

"Who said anything about lying?" Her head inclined to one side, and a single brow raised in confusion. "Not all compliments are lies you know." She moved quickly, snatching the book from his hand and hugging it to her chest. 

"Really?" Heimdall gasped, voice dripping heavily with sarcasm, "You're going to enlighten the god of Foresight with that argument?"

"As much as I would love to hurl insults at you, giving you a true and genuine compliment isn't that difficult."

"Well then," He gestured for her to continue, "I await your compliment, Ditzy. And do be aware, I will know if you're lying." 

She took a step back, and placed her book on the bed. Then she started to circle him, scrutinizing gaze looking him over from head to toe. "Hm," The hum rumbled in her chest. 

It was glaringly obvious that she was going to pay a compliment on his appearance. A fitting subject, he supposed. After all, in addition to his useful gift, he was regarded as the most handsome of his kin. 

The floorboards creaked as she came to a halt. Finger tapping her chin, her eyes met his. "I'm sure you get this a lot, but you have very nice hair. Better than anything I could ever hope to accomplish with mine."

As much as he hated to admit it, her words appeared to be honest. He had expected some sort of backhanded or sarcastic comment. But it tickled his ego all the same. "Why thank you, Ditzy. I suppose you're expecting an equally fitting compliment for yourself?"

"Are you capable of giving a genuine compliment?"

Heimdall feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. "You make it sound as if I'm some sort of heartless and self-absorbed jackass."

"And?" Her arms folded across her chest, "Am I wrong?"

His teasing grin faltered. Her ability to stoop to his level of pettiness was...almost impressive. And while he considered that an honest compliment, he doubted she would see it that way. Shoulders sagging, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "I suppose for the sake of the subject matter and the All-Father's request to be diplomatic…"

She shrank back as he invaded her personal space, though her eyes widened when he placed a hand above her brow and pulled the skin taut. "Beneath those bushes you call eyebrows, your eyes are...rather attractive."

Said brows furrowed, and there was a pause, but she hummed, eyes adrift in thought. "Thank you."

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 2

Roman Roy x Reader

slowburn romantic drama

a/n: I’m so glad you guys love this as much as I do!! kisses, enjoy x

Word Count: 2.313k

The Waystar building is daunting. It makes you queasy- not because of the architecture, but because of the people in it. You’re in Kendall’s office, his blinds drawn shut. You’ve been pacing for so long you think you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Roman lounges on an armchair, his legs hanging over one of the armrests.

“You need to tell me everything you know about your father’s criminal history. It’s the only way out. Throw him in jail before he can do it to me. And then he’s rendered unfit to run Waystar and it goes to Kendall.”

Roman is playing with a tennis ball, tossing and catching it methodically. “He took Kendall out the will and replaced him with Marcia.”

Kendall sinks in his chair. “You could’ve told me that earlier.”

“Anyway, we all know my dad’s 100% a criminal. He just has so much money there’s practically no witnesses nor any evidence,” Roman continues. “We have to catch him with his pants down.”

“But in the act of what? We can’t just watch him 24/7/365. It’s not feasible,” you reply.

“Okay, do you have any better ideas?”

“We bait him. Is it unethical? Probably. But I think we’re all past that.”

Kendall gets up and goes to stare out the window overlooking the city. “You think maybe he’s laundered money?”

“What do you think he had to clean the money from?”

“Prostitutes,” Roman says confidently.

“That’s not illegal, genius.”

“Where’s your imagination, Y/N?”

You continue your pacing. “Let’s go down the list. Tax evasion? He wouldn’t go to jail for that.”

“Even if he did, he’d be evading an entire $2 in taxes. The bracket distribution is fucked,” Roman points out. “He covered up Connor’s property fraud. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“It would be if we had concrete proof. Connor’s never going to testify and tell the truth, and I doubt we can find whoever he paid to forge the deed.”

Kendall shrugs. “I’ll try anyway.”

“We could try to get a confession,” you say. “But if he had a crazy enough attorney, it might not hold up in court.”

Roman rolls onto his side, staring at you. There’s no way that can be comfortable. “Why not?”

“It’s the twenty first century, Roman. He can claim that it was AI generated using his voice from speeches posted online. The only way it’d work is if he confessed on the stand.”

He throws you a dirty look. “Quit shitting on my ideas.”

“It wasn’t your idea. Plus, I’m just doing what any attorney with a brain would do,” you retort. “Your dad clearly has the money. He’ll probably find someone who’s thirty times the lawyer I am.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kendall assures you.

A knock on the office door interrupts your erratic pacing. Kendall opens it, allowing Siobhan to storm in. “He knows,” is all she says.

“Good afternoon,” Roman drawls in response.

“Congrats on your engagement party,” she snaps back.

“Party?” you ask.

“Your father in law is throwing you an engagement party in Norway.” She gives your arm a squeeze. “And I have to go.”

“Aww, I love you too, Siobhan,” you say sarcastically.

“It’s nothing against you. And call me Shiv. We’re friends.” She throws herself onto the couch. “I’m supposed to meet with a bunch of people here so that they can start digging. But not if I’m in Norway.”

“I can-”

“Your attendance is required as well, Kendall.”

“…Is Greg’s?” he asks. Shiv’s face splits into a small smile.

“I think he’ll forget about Greg. But none of us can ask him.” She turns to you. “Y/N?”

“I don’t even know who Greg is.”

“He works here. You can’t miss him, he looks like an egg,” Roman supplies.

Shiv nods. “He’ll have people start digging while we’re abroad, we get a head start without him being able to cover anything up.”

“We still haven’t figured out what to do about Marcia’s being the heir,” Roman says, going back to sitting lopsidedly on the chair and tossing his tennis ball.

“Vote of no confidence, I guess. Who’re the board members?” you ask.

“Me, Roman, Gerri, Frank, Karl, my dad, and five other partners. And you, now, I think.” Kendall sits back down, then gets back up, only to sit back down again.

“Do you think we can swing the votes our way?”

“How?” Kendall drops his face into his hands.

“He needs to do something dumb in public,” Roman says. “I dunno, like be racist.”

“Is he…?” You look incredulously at Roman.

“Probably.”

”We can’t bank on him probably being racist. Members of the board, vote him out, he maybe hates foreigners.” You sigh. “I need a break. I’m going to go get sweets or something.”

“Bring me back a cheesecake and I’ll kiss you,” Shiv replies.

“Back off, Shiv. That’s my fiancé,” Roman says sarcastically.

“Kendall?” You ignore Roman, still lounging on the armchair.

“Um, a cupcake? Chocolate?”

“I’ll be quick.” You make your way through the office bullpen before Roman catches up to you.

“Hey, wait. You didn’t ask what I wanted,” he says, walking backwards in front of you.

“Good job, you noticed!” you say bitterly. He rolls his eyes.

“Let me come with you?”

“Will you be quiet?”

“No.”

“Then also no.”

You wait for an elevator with Roman right at your side. “You’re a jerk. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“You’re the one who’s made it clear that there’s no ‘we’ in any situation.”

“What, you want us to be exclusive? Can’t get any more exclusive than engaged, and you that’s what we are, baby.”

☾𖤓

Later that day, you’re in your office at your firm. After you and Roman had gone back to Waystar, you’d gotten a call from your assistant saying that someone was at her desk demanding to see you. You’d weaseled your way to your office and asked her to send whoever it is in.

Connor comes storming in, the girl he was with at the party awkwardly in tow. “We want a lawsuit.”

“Hello, Connor, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking!”

“My girlfriend, Willa, and I are staying at a hotel while our house in the country gets renovated.” Without asking, he sits in one of the chairs in front of your desk. Willa stands silently behind him. “I took took our valuables from home and gave them to the staff, who said they’d hold them in the hotel vault and keep them safe. We went back last night and, lo and behold, everything’s been stolen.”

You stare at him blankly. “You’re wasting my time, Connor.”

“I’m being serious,” he exclaims dramatically. “Her diamonds and gold were taken, along with my best watches.”

You sigh. “I’ll have one of my associates take this. This is an easy suit, Connor.”

“You’re going to do it.”

You get up from your desk. “Why, pray tell, would I do that?”

“Because I have leverage. And I need the best on the case. This has to go through.”

“Excuse my language, but a fucking toddler could win this. It’s negligence- innkeeper’s law. They put your stuff in their vault, it got stolen, they’re liable. Case closed.”

You try leaving, but Connor’s immediately up and blocking your way. “No. You’re doing it, or I tell the papers.”

You scoff. “Fucking fine. Do you have pictures of everything that was stolen?” Connor smiles, satisfied with himself. “Images from the companies you bought the junk from is fine. Have it on my desk with your hotel reservations by tomorrow. I’m not going to spend too much time on this.”

He blocks your way again. “Thank you.”

“Bye,” you say, gesturing your office door. After Connor leaves, Willa shuffling behind him, Roman takes his place, collapsing into a chair. “When’d you get here?”

“Like ten minutes ago. Connor was stomping around like a toddler. What’d he want?”

“A bunch of stuff got stolen while he’s staying at the hotel. He wants to file a lawsuit through me.”

“He’s trying to waste your time,” Roman says matter-of-factly. “He knows the four of us are gunning for Dad, and by proxy, him, because Dad is the one protecting his ass.”

“What does Connor own that would be damaged by Logan leaving?”

“He’s a shareholder. If you oust Dad, he probably goes too, just to save face.” He kicks his feet up onto your desk. “And he’s just annoying like that. You know he pays that girl to be with him?”

You wince. You don’t want to think about that. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t come visit my fiancé?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Waystar’s hosting a charity dinner tonight. Or, technically, we are.”

“We?”

“Our first public apparence together. Isn’t it romantic?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You don’t have the mental capacity for this. “Okay. Do you know what you’re wearing?”

“Same thing I always wear. Dress pants and slacks.” He gets to his feet. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, anyway. It’s just a bunch of corporate wannabes kissing my ass so that they can move up in the company.”

“Because your ego needs it.”

You manage to go home and change before Roman picks you up. Rather, the driver does. Both of you sit wordlessly in the back, until he tells you, “You look nice all dolled up.”

“I don’t look nice usually?”

“That’s not what I- never mind.”

Feeling bad, you glance at him. “You look nice, too.”

When you pull up at the venue, Roman scoots until he’s pressed up against the door and takes your hand, pulling you against him before opening the door and stepping out with you behind him.

The paparazzi is as aggressive as always, and you know you’re getting sick of it. When you’re both safely inside, he lets go of your hand. “I’m gonna go drink an excessive amount and pass out behind a curtain.”

You watch him wind into the crowd. You hope he’s joking.

Roman was right, earlier. This wasn’t the sort of charity dinner where people actually donate to charity- this was purely social.

You find Shiv by herself in a corner and join her. “I fucking hate these,” she tells you. “They could at least pretend to be here for a noble cause.”

You two spend the half hour before dinner chatting among yourselves in the corner. You thankfully veer away from talking about work and the clusterfuck that you’ve gotten yourselves into and instead idly discuss anyone and everyone you both see.

When you’re called to be seated for dinner, you peer at the the seating chart indicating that Shiv’s on your left with Roman on your right. You and Shiv take your seats, Roman nowhere to be seen. 10, 20 minutes pass.

“This is normal for him,” she tells you, in between bites. “He’s probably blackout drunk somewhere.”

“In public?”

She nods.

Once dinner is over, the crowd goes back to mingling. Shiv has to step away to talk to some client of hers, and while she’s gone, someone taps on your shoulder.

“You’re a pretty face I haven’t seen before.” It’s an old man. A very old man.

You try to just ignore him, making your way to the refreshment table and plucking a chocolate from a tray. He follows you anyway.

“What’s your name? What do you do at Waystar?”

You give him a dirty look and continue your inspection of the refreshments.

“You’re a feisty one, then?” He laughs, and it makes your skin crawl. “I like a challenge.”

You give him another look and round the table. “I have much better wine at my place. Much better than the garbage they serve here. Much.”

He follows you despite your pretending like he doesn’t exist. “I can tell you’d be a good time.”

Before you can do something rash, a warm hand goes to sit on your hip, grounding you. You smell his cologne before you realize it’s him.

“Figures you don’t know how to take no for an answer with all the whining you do to me for a promotion.” Roman pulls you flush against him. “Are you trying to fuck my girl?” Before the man can say anything, Roman interrupts. “The answer is no. And there’s also no showing your face here, or at Waystar, ever again. I’ve been looking for a reason to fire you. You were never an asset.”

He scuttles off, and Roman slumps against you, arm still hooked around your waist. “Are you drunk?” you ask him.

“Very,” he responds.

“I think it’s past your bedtime,” you tell him. “Can we go home?”

Arrangements had been made for you and Roman to start living together in a cozy apartment secluded from the rest of the city. You weren’t mad about it, really. You just hope Roman isn’t a slob.

“Tell what’s-his-face to pull the car up. I’m going to puke in my shoes.”

When you’ve sat down, Roman sets his head in your lap and stretches out along the back seat.

“How much did you have to drink?” you ask stiffly.

“Lots and lots.” He presses his face into your stomach. “Before we left, I had a lovely conversation with my dad. Told me how much of a fuck up I was, how you’re the only right decision I’ve ever made. And it’s not even true. I didn’t want this.”

You give his shoulder an awkward rub. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re involved in this. I should’ve known, way back then.”

“The worst part is, Y/N, as much as I try to hate you and blame you for this shit show, I can’t. You’re innocent. You’re a damn good lawyer that was just doing her job. And it pisses me off that you’re so fucking pretty, because I can’t have you, but I want you so bad.”

[liliumsabyss]

Victory

Newt(TMR) x male reader

Prequel(?) to “Don’t Go”

Minor angst to Fluff I think?

Word Count: 1.35k

Tw: Normal Maze Runner stuff maybe more descriptors of violence, loss of hearing temporarily, maybe ooc

Newt hadn’t seen it till it was too late and now he was fighting off a crank that had climbed on top of him waving its claws wildly and snarling at him. He terrified, fought back being careful to avoid being scratched or bit using the large rifle he had stolen from wicked as a shield as much to his misfortune had gotten jammed rendering it as his only weapon useless, utterly useless. And he was not ready to accept the fate that was to await him if he were to give up he still had to fight. But that wasn’t the main thought in his mind as his ears rang. The main thought was Where were you? If you were okay despite the odds were ok he would be fine with dying right there but with the group getting ambushed by a flood of cranks he feared that you had either been dead or infected and both of those images had been his worst fear. His thought of you being infected had started to now grow into a conviction he was so convinced you had to be infected at this point that he begged you had died instead at least then he wouldn’t have to watch your eyes slowly turn into a black void, dark blood spilling from your mouth, your veins showing off the changes, and worst of all, your beautiful mind withering away till you were an empty shell actually you wouldn’t be empty you would be so much worse filled with agony, hatred, and a violent nature that simply just didn’t belong to you. The thought of that made him more terrified than the crank he was fighting. And yet just at that second a swift blur in his confusion passed by his eyes the weight of the creature gone. So he scrambled to sit up only to see you on top of the crank, pinning its arms into the ground with your knees while your knife was held high above your head. Newt's eyes flashed with even more horror at the image, why were you being so so stupid why would you put yourself in this kind of peril for him, why were you willing to potentially die for him. He couldn’t understand actually with his fear cloudling his brain he wouldn’t understand the conviction of you being infected flashed across his eyes all over again. Your knife came down over and over black liquid spraying you with each violent stab into the cranks skull the dark substance dripping from the knife that shined ever so slightly the crank letting out screeches until it fell silent its struggling arms fell limp. You leaned back ever so slightly relieving the pressure on your knees. Dark coloured blood splattered across your face smeared along with dust and dirt as you climbed off the crank still remaining on your knees. Newt without thinking crawled? More like clamered on his knees towards you sliding at the last second ever so slightly before you.

“ You bloody shank! Why would you do that?” He practically yelled over the gunshots of the others, “ Why would you be that bloody stupid! People care about you, I care about you!”

You tilted your head in confusion at him but he didn’t appear to notice. He continued to “yell” as you watched his lips trying to make out with what he was saying. He almost completely forgot that he had practically confessed to you but that would be a problem for future him. Yet by the time he had stopped to take a sharp inhale and he refocused on you matching your confusion as he saw you staring confused and intensely at his mouth. He blushed a little at the immediate implication he had thought of, quite embarrassed with himself that his mind even remotely thought of that. You said something softly, too softly for him to hear over the screeches and gunfire. He looked at you in confusion moving his head closer, hinting he could not hear. 

“ I CAN’T HEAR MY GUN BLEW OUT MY HEARING.” You shouted unable to control your volume due to your well lack of receiving volume. Newt slightly jumped back in surprise at your loudness, but quickly he nodded showing he understood what you had said. 

He scrambled onto his feet, realising that the group had to move forward or else they would die there. He had then reached his hand out towards you, you in response stretched your hand up to rest in his before his fingers curled gentle enough not to hurt you but firm in which it would be hard to let go. Newt gave a sharp tug to reference you to stand, you stood up stumbling a tad trying to gather your bearings. 

“ We have to get out of here, they will corner us.” Newt shouted at the rest, you had tried to read his lips only catching a word here and there as your hearing continued to be repressed. It would have sounded if you were underwater.

The other nodded and made affirmations in response. Newt looked at you trying his best to mouth something, you could make it out and he never would have even had to tell  you for you already did. The words “Trust Me” left his mouth and you nodded, why wouldn’t you he was the one you had so utterly cared for to the point where you had thrown yourself onto a crank for him. So yes you did trust him. He turned around reaching into his back pocket behind the aviator esc coat revealing a small handgun he had most definitely taken from WICKED. When? You had no clue but considering his other weapon was rendered useless you certainly weren’t complaining. He started to yell towards the rest who were still fighting against the ongoing swarms of cranks. There was a plan in play, a plan you didn’t know and that scared you but your ever going trust in the other male was clear so you squeezed his head lightly your version of a response. And soon you moved forward, Newt jogging to the best of his ability stayed at the front clearing the general path with the small handgun and never once letting go of your hand. While he was usually never the leader and often more times second in command the person who keeps everyone together you could see that he was more than suited to be a leader. Whether it was in his nature or he had picked it up from Alby no one there could deny his knack for leadership. To you he had seemed like a knight in shining armour, fearless. However his internal dialogue would prove otherwise, he was mortified at that second he was nearly shooting everything that moved and he was as flighty as bird. He held frantically onto your hand the warmth of your hand and the occasional squeeze here and there kept him grounded yet made him only further scared him. The constant reminder that you had been there and while not helpless you certainly weren’t in the most ideal situation.

 He would’ve kept running if it wasn’t for Minho’s voice calling out to him he wouldn’t have stopped. He looked around a little too fast for someone who would appear to be safe and that's when he realised they had gotten out that they were safe. He looked back at you, both of you holding each other's hand just as tight, the sun lighting up your faces. A huge grin spread across your face and you laughed, you just laughed, your head threw back and you laughed and before Newt knew it he was laughing alongside you his toothy grin being revealed as he laughed. There were only two thoughts in his mind: you had survived and furthermore you were so bloody beautiful. And so he continued to smile and laugh as the others joined in celebrating your victory, he couldn’t tell if your hearing was back but for now he would just enjoy watching you celebrate. 

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Lunch Break - Lt. Thomas Keefer x Reader

A/N: I don't own this photo but it's the only one I could find 🙃 credit to the original owner!! I know we all go feral for Bob but like, Lt. Keefer over here??? ugh.

pairing: Lieutenant Thomas Keefer x f!reader (The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial)

warnings/content: pretty much plotless smut / p in v / fingering / praise kink

word count: 1.9k

minors dni!

“Lieutenant Keefer,” you stood from your seat in the Admiral’s office, giving a polite salute as he entered the room. 

Lieutenant Thomas Keefer was a tall man with light brown hair and the most hauntingly beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen in your life. He gave you a polite nod, his lips turning up into a smirk as he looked you up and down. As a civilian aide to the Admiral, you weren’t a stranger to dealing with the various personnel on base, and especially not when it came to dealing with Keefer and all of his flirtatious charms. He dropped the stack of reports on your desk, sitting on the corner of it as he looked at you, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Please, you don’t need to stand on my account,” he nodded, that smirk still solidly plastered on his lips, “I’m not here for any real professional reason, actually,” He hums as he speaks, his cobalt blue eyes not leaving your body, instead wandering up and down it, as if he was taking all of you in at once.

You took your seat and let out an awkward laugh, cocking your eyebrow upwards into an arch as you looked at him. You could feel his body heat radiating from sitting in such close proximity to him, the scent of his cologne, an almost delicious woodsy smell, notes of sandalwood and cedar filling your nostrils. His demeanor remained playful as he looked around the office, craning his neck as he leaned himself backwards slightly, scanning every possible inch of space in the room.

“They leave you here all alone today?” He smirked, an eyebrow raised.

It was no secret how you felt about Lieutenant Keefer. He was handsome, charming, confident, with just that hint of cockiness that made you crazy for him. You were inexplicably drawn to him in every way imaginable, and there was part of you that hoped, that prayed that he felt an ounce of desire for you as well. The way he was sitting on our desk, so completely relaxed and nonchalantly, while still maintaining an air of authority about him. God, he was perfect. You couldn’t help yourself as you instinctively bit your lip, looking around the room to avoid his gaze that you knew would have you breaking into a cold sweat, making your heart race. 

“Mhmm, meetings off base today. I’m here to hold down the fort, sort of thing,” You responded as cooly as you could, trying to not make your admiration for his intoxicating personality known to him.

“What a shame, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be left to hold down the base’s administrative affairs alone, now should you?”

He reached forward to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, his face the closest to yours that it’s ever been. Fuck, there was no way he didn’t know how badly you wanted him. You saw his eyes fill with the same lustful expression you figured yours were showing at this moment. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he placed his hand on your cheek gently, his voice a low raspy whisper as he spoke now. 

“You have beautiful eyes, has anyone told you that?” 

You felt your cheeks turn pink and hot as the blood rushed to your face, your mind almost completely unable to form a singular thought as you felt his touch. You shook your head gently, the only response you were able to elicit from yourself. He stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, leaning in even closer to you, your faces now merely a hair’s width apart from each other. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, pretty girl?” He cooed, clearly enjoying the fact he’d rendered you speechless. His cobalt blue eyes continued to hold their gaze on you as he watched you practically fold under his touch, unable to concentrate or speak. “Don’t tell me I’ve got you all hot and bothered?”

As if on instinct, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a hungry, fervent kiss. His lips met yours, passion brewing between the two of you as your mutual desire became even more apparent to one another. He pulled away ever so slightly, hovering his lips above yours as he smirked at you, watching as you desperately tried to press your lips to his again, his mouth teasing you as he spoke. 

“Someone’s eager, aren’t you?” He grinned as he hopped up off of your desk and approached the office door. He turned the lock before turning back to you and nodding. “If anyone asks later, you’re on a lunch break, got it?” 

You nod obediently and sink your teeth into your own kiss bitten lips as he approaches you again. 

“That’s my good girl,” he responds as he starts strategically clearing off your desk. He hoists you up around his waist, his lips once again finding yours, this time refusing to break contact even as he spun you around to lay you down on the desk behind you. His lips hungrily left a trail of hot wet kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He quickly unbuttoned the buttons of your blouse, kissing the newly exposed skin as he undid each one. His hands explored your body, finding their way up the hemline of your skirt. His fingers tauntingly dragging against your thighs. The way he calls you his girl makes your heart race to a speed you didn’t think was possible, driving you to desire and crave him even more.

“Look at how perfect you are, my sweet girl. You let me know if you want me to stop, ok?” His voice was gentle and reassuring as he spoke, waiting for you to give him a sign of confirmation, granting him permission to continue.

“Please, Lieutenant Keefer, I -” you began as you started asking him to give you what you wanted.

“Just call me Thomas, babe, it’s less of a mouthful,” he chuckled softly as he stroked your hair gently, his eyes full of what could only be described as admiration and lust for you. 

“Thomas, please, don’t tease me,” You nodded as you bit your lip again, “I want this, I want you.”

His eyebrow raised as he looked at you, his lips turning up into that devilish smirk again. Grinning at you, he slid his hand that was resting on your thigh upwards until his fingertips found the lace outline of your panties. He dragged his fingers over the outside of the fabric, feeling the wetness of your arousal that was quickly soaking through your underwear.

“Who’s got you all hot and bothered like this, baby?” He purred at you as he shoved your underwear down off your legs. He quickly slipped his fingers between your wet folds, feeling your arousal gathering on his fingers before he began tracing circles over your clit, biting his lip as he felt your hips push themselves forwards, as if you were instinctively trying to get him to apply more pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerve endings. 

“Y-you,” you managed to squeak out inbetween moans of pleasure at his touch. 

He smirked as he pulled his fingers away, sliding them into his mouth as he cleaned them off with his tongue. Thomas quickly undid his belt, dropping his uniform khakis to the floor, his boxer briefs tenting in a way that you were convinced couldn’t have been comfortable for him. 

“Do I need anything?” His eyebrow raised as he looked at you.

“N-no,” you stuttered, trying to desperately focus your brain on talking, unable to stop yourself from being distracted by your overwhelming desire for him, “I’m clean and on the pill.”

He nodded his head once as he slipped his boxers down off his toned legs, a sign of all the military workouts he’d been completing over the years since he enlisted. His hardened cock sprung forward, and you felt your eyes widen in surprise. You had never really anticipated any size in particular, but he was definitely bigger than what you’d ever dealt with before. He let out a soft chuckle as he saw your reaction and shook his head. He positioned himself between your legs and ducked his head down to whisper to you.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow for you. Just tell me when you want me to speed up or slow down or anything, ok?” He said reassuringly before kissing just below your ear, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slid his tip along your wetness before pushing it forward gently. 

You exhaled sharply as he paused to let you adjust to his size, his lips sucking at your neck as he waited for you to tell him to continue. As cocky and unbothered of a demeanor that he gave off, Thomas was truly trying to be mindful of you as best as he could be. 

“P-please, need you.” You nodded as you managed to spit the words out. 

Thomas slowly began to thrust his hips in and out of you, filling you out completely as he thrusted. You could feel your body stretching to make him fit, clenching down on him tightly as he pumped himself in and out of you. He kept his mouth on your neck so he could continue to leave hot, breathy kisses and words of encouragement in your ear.

“That’s it, pretty girl, you’re doing so good, taking me so well, baby.” 

You felt his muscles tense as you dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as you drew closer to your climax. His name fell from your lips, part of a rambling mess of curse words and compliments that you managed to moan out. You felt him moaning against your neck, a low grunt as his lips vibrated against you, his hot breath on your sensitive skin pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. 

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do it baby, I know you’re so close,” His words of encouragement alone would have been enough to take you there, but that, coupled with the movements of his hips, the sensation of him reaching your g-spot with each and every thrust, you couldn’t help but lose all control. Your back arched, your head tilted back and Thomas’s hand gently went over your mouth to help you muffle your scream as you reached your boiling point. Thomas followed suit, his thrusts becoming sloppier and less calculated as he climaxed, a low, primal grunt escaping his lips as he spoke.  

“Shhhh, baby,” he hissed as you reached your climax, moaning loudly into his hand, “that’s my good girl.” 

Thomas waited a moment before pulling himself out of you slowly, making sure you felt every movement he made as he finished. He smirked as he pulled your underwear back up slowly before standing to his feet, getting himself dressed again. As you buttoned up your blouse once again, he leaned in to kiss your cheek gently. 

“So, I think I have more reports I’ll have to drop off tomorrow, would that be alright?” He smirked as he helped straighten the paperwork that he’d removed from your desk moments earlier.

[lauren-likes-to-type]

Hi, so I saw that you don't feel comfortable writing for Riley, which is why I apologize for that request of mine. If it's okay with you, I wanna request for Val Ortiz instead.

Scenario: s/o who is completely blind. Yet, one day, they go to the carnival for a date, and her s/o somehow manages to win every single target shooting game with perfect accuracy.

[Inside Out 2] Valentina [Val] Ortiz x Female Reader - "Carnival of Accuracy"

[Animated dividers by: grungeglam] [Requested by: anonymous]

Summary: You always manage to surprise Val in new ways, and being at the carnival with plenty of games around is no exception.

Word Count: 1.62k Content + Warnings: Reader is blind, brief mentions of bullying (I'm not entirely sure how senses work when one is blind, so if something came across as insensitive here, please let me know)

- - - - [Masterlist] - - - -

[A/N]: Hi, hun! No worries at all -- I wasn't upset about the Riley requests, especially since I hadn't directly said who I was willing to write for at that point. You're all good, I promise. I'm still sort of on the fence about writing for Riley, but I'm leaning towards writing for her platonically.

Enjoy!

Every single thing you did, no matter how small, always seemed to impress or surprise Val. From the moment she met you, she knew you were special in more ways than one. All your life, you had been picked on or pitied because of your disability, one that stripped away your vision and rendered you blind. You tried to pay them all no mind, but there were times where it all got to be too much, and you slipped away. During those times, however, you found things you were confident in doing, one of which was the most surprising: target practice.

Clearly, it wasn’t an easy thing to do from the start, especially since your blindness was one of, if not, the hardest obstacles one could possibly face when deliberately trying to physically aim for something. There were countless months and years where you were close to giving up, but you didn’t want to let the people who teased you win.

Instead, you began training your senses. With a bit of help, you’d made a small target and hung it on your wall, the solid rings jutting out enough for you to figure out the different sections of the board. The bullseye was something you were sure you wouldn’t ever get skilled enough to strike, but it didn’t stop you from trying. Any time you wanted to blow off steam or simply had nothing else to do, you would swipe your hands over your bedside table and let your fingers curl around the darts once they grazed over them.

Making your way to the place you’d set up just a few feet from the target board, you’d ensure you were facing the right way before tossing, only checking where they had landed when there were no more darts to throw. As this continued, you started to strain your hearing to understand where things were landing. Within weeks, you were able to tell which ring you had struck just by the sound, something not many could achieve.

Then one day, you caught it: a sound you hadn’t heard before. Startled by the displacement, you slowly trudged forward, arms outstretched until the tips of your fingers met the wall. You slid them upwards, crossing over the double ring, the first single ring, the third ring, the second single ring, and even past the outer bullseye. To say you were elated to find the dart lodged into the bullseye would be an understatement. You had your parents come in to check for you, just in case you were losing your mind, and they were just as surprised as you were to find it there, struck perfectly in the center of the board.

Not long after that, you started hitting it more and more, each successful toss leaving you with a growing sense of pride. At first, you wanted to show others, to show off that you were more capable than they had originally thought. Then, you thought, maybe you should keep it hidden. If it ever came up, you could surprise them even more.

And it certainly did do that when Val offered to take you to the local carnival for your first date with her.

You’d been walking around with her, your arm looped around hers so she could safely guide you throughout the grounds and make sure you were alright. It was a huge sign of trust, letting her guide you instead of using your cane to make your way around, but it wasn’t exactly hard to put that trust in her. She made it so easy. Not once did she ever doubt you or pity you because of what you dealt with. She’d offer help when she felt it was needed, but she wouldn’t argue if you declined.

She knew you were more than perfectly capable of taking care of yourself despite your blindness, which is why you often found yourself hanging out around her, finally relieved to have found someone who wouldn’t taunt you relentlessly for something completely out of your control. It was a breath of fresh air to be treated normally for once.

As you trailed beside her, you overheard a few carnival members hollering out, challenging the people passing by to take a chance and win a prize. After hearing this for a while, you tapped Val’s arm, bringing her attention to you. “How about one of the dart games?” You asked, unable to see how her brows lifted at your words. She parted her lips and started to ask if you were sure, but ultimately cut herself off and hummed. “Sure, why not?” With a gentle nudge, she turned you just enough to then lead you over to one of the booths.

The carny running it greeted the two of you with an obnoxiously animated tone. “Welcome, welcome! Ready to test your luck and possibly take home a new prize?” You cringed at their fake enthusiasm, but nodded, listening as Val dug into her pocket for one of her tickets she hadn’t used. “Here,” she murmured as she handed it over. It was clear right away that the carny had assumed Val would be the one to throw, considering he handed the darts to her.

Still, you didn’t speak, letting her lead you over to one of the targets. Just ahead was a balloon covering a dart board. “Do you need me to help?” She asked calmly as she placed one of the darts in your hand. You smiled and hummed with a small shake of your head. “Not really. I just need you to make sure I’m facing the right way.” You were only tugged over a little bit before she assured you the target was directly ahead.

Even with all of the surrounding noise, you were able to strain your ears enough to hear where the dart would land. Just ahead, that was all you needed to center your hearing on.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your arm and took aim, taking a moment to ensure you were steady before launching the dart forward.

A pop greeted you, immediately followed by the thud of the dart meeting the target.

There was a heavy silence between the three of you for a moment, though it was eventually broken by a shocked laugh from Val. The carny cleared his throat and hummed. “Quite a lucky shot, little lady! Hopefully, you’ll have the same luck for the next few throws!” You smiled and lightly poked Val’s arm, leading to her moving you over a bit for the next target. Just like before, you steadied your hand and brought your attention ahead before throwing, once again being met by a pop and a thud.

This continued until you were out of darts, and as you were handed your prize – ignoring the grumbles of the carny – you linked your arm with Val’s again and let her lead you away. Gently, she shook your arm, laughing from a mix of amusement and amazement. “That was incredible,” she praised. “How on earth did you do that?” A small, shy chuckle left your lips as you dipped your head down a bit. You let the pads of your fingers roll the soft fabric of the plush toy you had just won between them as you explained yourself.

“Well, I actually have a dart board in my room that I’ve been using to get better at aiming with over the years. You’ll see it if you ever stop by my house.”

“Really? That’s awesome! I had no idea you could aim like that.”

“Clearly the carny back there didn’t know either.”

A soft laugh met you in reply, a sound that left your heart fluttering and your smile widening. The feeling of Val’s fingers lightly squeezing your arm brought your focus back to her. “You continue to surprise me by the day,” she murmured, her voice thick with affection. “You really are incredible in more ways than one. I hope you know that.”

Once again, her words left your face heating up as you turned away. Even without seeing her, you could tell her eyes were still on you, as well as that tender smile still gracing over her lips. One thing that never failed to soften her heart was seeing you happy, especially if she knew she was the main reason behind your kind smile every time.

You never failed to impress her, and she would never fail to make you happy, that was one thing she promised.

It was only a short while later when she brought up visiting another booth, an offer you accepted immediately. Following what had happened before, you were handed the darts by Val after she handed over one of her tickets. She carefully positioned you where you needed to be and simply watched with increasing interest as you once again managed to strike every target right on the bullseye. This continued throughout the next hour or so, and by the time you both decided to call it a night and head out, you were both carrying multiple prizes in your opposite arms.

Hearing just how proud she was of you after that night, it was no surprise that the carnival grounds became a common spot for dates. Even when you wouldn’t go around and win every booth possible, it was still an incredible feeling being there. After that, you’d recall your first date with her there every time you’d hear the carnies hollering out for people to swarm to the booths, the memory of it all never failing to flood your chest with warmth, even long after you’d already made it home and cuddled up in bed, drifting off to the joy still buzzing throughout your body.

Started on: April 16th, 2025 Finished on: April 16th, 2025

[drabbles-mc]

Unprofessional

Walt Breslin x F!Reader

For Day 10 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Alphabet: jealousy

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking, alcohol, smut

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: The way that I had to fight myself to not let this turn into a 10k fic 😂 I'm already in love with this reader and the general vibe of this fic and idkidk maybe I'll write more for them down the road. Who knows? Not me!

NMX Taglist: @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @hausofmamadas @garbinge @cositapreciosa @southotheborder @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Walt watched as Sal’s car rolled up to the motel that you and Walt were staying at. He was glad that you at least let someone else bring you home, because based off how you were when he’d left the bar a little more than an hour before, you probably shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. It was usually him that was driving you to and from wherever you had to go, or vice versa on days when Walt didn’t want to put up a fight about it. Judging by the way you were laughing as you opened the door and stepped out of Sal’s car, you didn’t seem to mind the switch up.

He watched you as you leaned on the edge of the window, smiling and laughing still as you thanked Sal and told him that you’d see him tomorrow.  Walt caught the way the man waved to him as well, and he returned the gesture from his chair. It was your chair, actually. It’d come out of your room. You set it up in the little stretch of space between the door to your motel room, and the door to Walt’s. You’d be sitting there with your coffee in the morning, and Walt would sometimes be out there in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, dragging on his cigarettes, not unlike he was now.

You were practically sauntering up to him, the headlights of Sal’s car behind you rendering you as nothing more than a silhouette in the few seconds before he turned around and peeled out the lot to head back to his own spot.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile, “you left early.”

He shrugged, noncommittal. “Yea.”

You still felt like you were buzzing, warm more from the alcohol than the actual temperature. Still, even in your slight haze, you could see the annoyance on Walt’s face. “You okay?”

He gave a short nod, his tone and his words not lining up in the slightest as he said, “I’m fine.”

You were in no mood to try and pull it out of him, and even if you were, you didn’t know if you would be anything close to successful. So instead, you swiped the pack of cigarettes off the arm of the chair he was sitting in and took one out for yourself. The two of you were in a constant loop of bumming them off each other—neither of you bothered asking anymore.

“You know,” you spoke as well as you could with your lips wrapped around the cigarette—you sparked the lighter before continuing, “I know shit has been real rough lately, but that doesn’t mean you can’t ever have a good time.”

Walt shook his head, like you were saying the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Looked like you were all having a good enough—”

“Would’ve been nice if you were there, though,” you cut him off, smoke swirling out from between your lips as you spoke. “Couldn’t take, what, three hours out of the twenty-four to not be all broody?” you said, just enough of a smile on your face to keep that question from starting a full-blown argument. Walt gave you another shake of his head and it only caused you to double-down. “We missed you.”

He scoffed. “Didn’t seem like you were missing much of anything when I left.”

You burst out laughing at that. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I’m just,” he took a drag off his cigarette, “just surprised that Sal brought you back. Looked like you were gonna be goin’ home with your new friend there at the bar.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing as you tapped the ash off the end of your smoke. “You think I’m that easy, Breslin?”

He frowned slightly as he shrugged, an expression that was less about being upset and more about being uncertain. “I don’t know what I think about you.”

The statement was a little bit of a lie. Walt thought about you plenty. Some of it had to do with work, a lot of it didn’t. He’d had plenty of time to think about you since he met you, but there was still a lot that he didn’t know. Like how suave and flirty you could be when you were trying to get a free drink or two out of someone, like how watching you do that put a knot in his gut that had no right to be there.

It was the first time the two of you had ever worked together. Before you all got pulled together into the Smash & Grab that you now were, Walt was working in El Paso while you came over from Miami. Neither of you had known each other prior to this, and while you noticed that Walt seemed to have built a rapport with a few of the other men on his team, you were flying in completely blind. You didn’t know anyone. Walt quickly noticed, however, that that didn’t seem to slow you down. You quickly made it part of your job to get to know everyone at least a little bit, just enough to figure out how you should interact with them for the sake of not letting the team fray apart at the edges. It was a good skill, one Walt made a mental note to work on if you all made it out of this mess alive.

All of you had your own rooms, scattered across a few different low-budget motels. You were all smart enough to not all hole up in the same place together, but no one wanted to be completely alone. There was a fine line between having safety in numbers, and making yourselves easy targets to get wiped out in one fell swoop.

Your rooms weren’t adjoining, but you and Walt did share a wall. The walls were thin enough for him to hear the muffled sounds of your television, or for you to hear him if he was on the phone with someone, but you’d have to have your ear pinned tight to the wall if you wanted to make out the exact words on the other side.

He felt like he’d learned a fair bit about you in the relatively short span of time that he was your neighbor, one flimsy wall away from being your roommate. You were always up early, but went to bed late. He only had the latter part of that down for himself—he’d never mastered being a morning person. He’d step outside to have his first cigarette of the morning and you would already be up, coffee in one hand and a manila folder packed with information in the other. But there were still too many blanks for him to have any right feeling the way he felt about you.

“Hey,” you said with a quiet laugh as you tapped the side of his boot with yours, “Earth to Breslin.” You waited for him to look over at you. “Are we good?”

He shrugged, nodding. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” you said as you took an inhale from your cigarette, the warmth from your liquor at the bar fading for the moment as you tried to figure out why it felt like things were suddenly off-kilter between the two of you. “You took off, and now you’re acting different. So…are we good?”

“You just,” he looked everywhere but at you, knowing that he was digging himself into a hole that was going to be a bitch to try and get out of, “you gotta be careful.”

“About what?”

“About all of it!” He dropped his cigarette to the ground and put it out with the ball of his foot. “You can’t trust anyone we—”

“The guy bought me a drink, Walt,” you cut him off, unable to believe that this was the conversation the two of you were having. “I wasn’t telling him trade secrets. Fuck, I didn’t even give him my real name. As far as he knows,” you gestured to where Sal had been a few minutes before, “Sal is my fuckin’ boyfriend.”

Leaning back in the chair, he finally looked at you. “Alright.”

You shook your head. “Alright.” You paused for a beat. “You know, maybe you should’ve stayed for an extra drink or two. Maybe you could loosen up for all of two minutes.”

He didn’t want to keep arguing with you. Really, that was the exact opposite of what he wanted. Even so, it took more effort than it should’ve for him to finally say, “Maybe.”

You weren’t really looking for an argument either. You’d left the bar in a perfectly chipper mood and the last thing you wanted was for it all to fizzle out now. You hadn’t expected to come back to this. Walt always had that edge to him, an overtone of sourness, but this felt different.

“There something we should talk about?” you asked.

Of course there was. There were plenty of things that he should talk to you about. But he wasn’t going to start those conversations, didn’t really know how to. Instead, he pushed up out of his chair, standing up so that the two of you were hardly a step away from each other.

“Shit’s different down here,” he finally said. “So just, just be careful.”

“It’s a little late in the game to have doubts about me now,” you told him. “If you have issues with what I did, how I operate, then you shouldn’t have brought me all the way—”

“It’s not that,” he cut you off. He could tell by the look on your face that you wanted to snap and say, “Then what the fuck is it?” but he didn’t know if he was ready to get into all of that. It definitely didn’t feel like the right time now. “I just…don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” He knew that the statement was skating too close to the complete truth, so he tried to cushion it with, “All you guys, you’re my responsibility. I don’t want shit going south if we can prevent it.”

“Can you be less of a pain in the ass about it?” you asked, the smallest hint of lightness returning to your tone.

He let out a weary chuckle. “I can try.”

You waited for him to have something else to say, but when it didn’t seem like he was going to, you prodded. “Anything else?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he backpedaled on it. “No.”

You had the nagging feeling that the conversation wasn’t done, but you didn’t know how to continue it without letting it devolve into another argument. Putting out your cigarette, you gestured to your room. “Drink? Since you bailed early.”

Walt knew that he shouldn’t go, that he should just turn and head back into his own room. But he felt like he owed you this. It was the best he could do for an apology without having to actually apologize.

“So,” he sat on the edge of one of the two beds in your room, the one that didn’t seem like you slept on it every night, “what’d you tell him?”

“Hm?” you asked as you poured liquor from the bottle in your bag into two paper cups. It wasn’t as nice as drinks at the bar, but Walt lost that opportunity quite a while ago.

“Said you didn’t tell the guy your real name. What’d you tell him?” He was as curious as he was jealous. It was a side of you he’d never seen before and he wondered if any of it was genuine.

You laughed as you handed him one of the cups, taking a seat on the end of the bed next to him. “I’ve got a whole rolodex of lines I give people in bars,” you took a sip of your drink, “especially when I’m working.”

He chuckled at the mental image of that, just cards upon cards flipping through in your brain whenever someone approached you and offered to buy you a drink. “Yea?”

“Yea. Why? Looking for some pointers?” you asked as you nudged his shoulder with yours.

“No, no.”

“Sounds like you might be,” you joked. “Should’ve stuck around and seen it for yourself.”

“I saw plenty,” he mumbled out without thinking better of it.

The statement didn’t give you pause so much as the way he said it. Turning to face him, you asked, “What was that?”

He shook his head, a little too quick to be casual. “Nothing.”

The fresh wave of warmth washing over you from the drink you’d been sipping on didn’t slow down the turning of the gears in your brain. “Is…is that why you—”

“No,” he cut you off, already knowing where the sentence was going and not wanting it to go there.”

Your eyes widened for a moment. “All that shit about me being careful,” you shook your head, “and you’ve been sulking here this whole time because you were jealous?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say it like that,” he told you, unable to look you in the eyes.

Leaning back, you braced the palm of your empty hand against the mattress. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.” The silence that passed spoke volumes, as did the fact that Walt’s eyes stayed glued to the cup in his hands. “You could’ve offered to buy me a drink,” you said, shifting your tone a little bit, softening the conversation just slightly.

Walt rolled his eyes, not liking the fact that this was all starting to feel a lot like pity. “It’s not,” he sighed, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “just forget it.”

“No,” you said with a laugh, “I won’t.”

Finally, he turned and looked at you. “I have never seen you act like that with anyone before.”

You chuckled. “Yea, well, that’s because they say it’s usually bad form to flirt with your coworkers. Bedroom eyes are unprofessional, apparently.”

That got a choked laugh out of him. “Apparently.”

“I like you, Walt,” you said.

His eyes widened for a moment as he registered what you’d just said. “Yea?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yea. When you’re not pouting quite so much, I like being around you. I’m, you know,” you gestured to the wall behind you, behind the headboards, “I’m glad I share a wall with you.”

His eyes dropped back to the floor. “It’d be stupid to do something, right?”

You shrugged, finishing off your drink. “Yea. But, I mean,” you laughed softly, “it’s also kinda stupid to get jealous over some random guy in a bar buying me a drink sooo…” your voice trailed off.

Walt sighed, letting his head drop back so that he was looking up at the ceiling. No matter what did or didn’t happen next, he knew that he wasn’t ever going to live that down. “Right.”

He followed your lead, finishing off his drink as well. You could see it in his body language that he was about to get up and leave, take the few short steps that would get him back to his room on the other side of the wall. You didn’t want him to go.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Walt?”

He looked over at you, and only got half a syllable out of whatever his response was going to be before you leaned in and brought your lips to his. You felt the way he froze for a moment, a brief hesitation that almost had you pulling away and apologizing. You two had just finished saying it would be a stupid idea.

But then Walt’s brain caught up with the rest of him and he was kissing you back. Empty paper cups fell almost silently to the floor as you brought the hand that wasn’t helping you keep your balance to his chest, fingers curling into the cloth of his flannel and pulling him towards you even more. Walt had one hand on your thigh, the other barely grazing the side of your face, like he was afraid to commit to holding it.

If the circumstances had been different, maybe you would’ve taken your time. Knowing that Walt had been stewing on those feelings for however long would’ve made you a little more patient. But every second since you crossed the border had felt borrowed, and you didn’t want to waste a single one. So you quickly maneuvered yourself, swinging one leg over him so that you were sitting, straddling his lap.

You ran both hands up Walt’s chest, and despite the fact that he still had on his flannel and his t-shirt, he still let out a, “Fuck,” under his breath as your palms and fingers raked over him. His hands settled on your hips as you kissed him again. All either of you could taste off each other was liquor and cigarettes, but at least it was honest.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as you began to grind your hips against his. He moaned into your mouth as he kissed you, hands sliding from your hips to your ass. Whatever hesitation he’d felt before was long gone now, along with the annoyances the two of you had been volleying back and forth since you got back.

You pulled away just enough so that you could pull your shirt off over your head. Walt was left slack jawed for a moment, taking in the sight of you on his lap with nothing on but your bra and jeans. When the gears finally started turning again, he ran through all the buttons on his shirt faster than you’ve ever seen anyone ever do it before. Within seconds, both his shirts were discarded onto the floor alongside yours.

His hands came to rest on your sides, gentle at first, like he was still wrapping his mind around the fact that he got to touch you like this. Then he gripped onto you with a little more force, bringing you back in so he could kiss you again. His arms wrapped around you, hands splaying across your back. Every motion was punctuated with blunt fingernails and rough callouses, the sensation of it making you put a little more urgency in your movements as your hips moved against his.

Letting his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, he spoke, words coming out muffled against your mouth but you could make them out well enough as he said, “C’mere.”

Deceptively strong in a way that caught you off-guard, Walt had you on your back on the mattress, himself positioned between your legs and hovering over your chest. He kissed you on the lips one more time before pulling away from you. He pulled away just enough so that he could undo the button and zipper of your jeans. You quickly toed off your boots, making it easier for Walt to pull your pants and underwear down your legs and completely off you. You shimmied a little farther up the bed as he rid himself of the last of his clothing as well.

Then he was right back on top of you, one hand cupping your face, one hand gripping onto your thigh. You didn’t let him pull his lips back off of yours, desperate for just a little more. Sliding one hand down between your bodies, you wrapped it around him. The contact immediately caused him to moan, made him buck into your hand even though you hadn’t started moving it yet.

Smiling into the kiss, you brought your other hand up, lacing your fingers through his hair and gripping, tugging just slightly as your other hand started to slowly move up and down his length. He muttered curses against your lips as he brought the hand that was on your thigh between your legs, pulling sounds out of you that he hadn’t even dared to daydream about.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you lined him up at your entrance. You let him feel how wet you already were, dragging the head of him up and down your slit. His hand was balled into a tight fist on the sheets beside your head, trying to have a modicum of self-control. You saw how hard he was fighting to keep it together, and you almost wanted to have something slick to say, but more than that you just wanted him inside you, so you guided him in and he had no hesitation about thrusting the rest of the way into you.

All the stress, the anger, the weight of the world that Walt always made himself carry around on his own shoulders, it all seemed to disappear for a moment. You wondered if it was because he finally found a good enough distraction, or if it was because he could channel all that anger with the world into the thrust of his hips. Maybe things just seemed a little less hopeless when he had you saying his name against the shell of his ear, asking for more.

You made it so easy for him to not have to think about anything but you. Every single part of you felt like it was there for him in that moment, and that feeling alone almost had him seeing stars right off the rip.

He could hear it in your voice, the way you gasped and whined, that you were close. Your nails raked down the side of his face, over the stubble that was getting longer by the day, searching for any kind of tether to hold onto. Your nails left a series of crescents behind, digging into his shoulder and back as you came, your hips desperately bucking up against his. He followed shortly after, reveling in the feel of you, in knowing that he was able to get you like this. He kissed you hard as he came inside you, rough enough to put a little pain in with all of the pleasure.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you slipped beneath the thin sheet and blanket on top of the bed. Up until now it’d been perfectly made the entire time you’d been staying there. You watched Walt as he swiped his underwear off the floor, pulling them on before grabbing yours as well. He held them out slightly, a wordless question, and you couldn’t help but to laugh as you nodded and let him toss them to you.

You saw the flicker of apprehension on his face, like he was trying to figure out whether or not he should be putting the rest of his clothes back on too. “You can stay,” you told him with a nod, propping the side of your face in your hand. “No point in leaving just to be on the other side of the wall.”

He visibly relaxed at that, relief coursing through him. “Right.”

He climbed in on the other side of the bed, laying close but still leaving a bit of a gap between you. He didn’t know what was supposed to happen now, what the protocol was supposed to be. None of this had been in his plans.

Rolling over, you swiped your pack of cigarettes and your lighter off the night stand that was between the two beds. You held the pack out to him, offering him one. He took one, of course, and since you were the one with the lighter in your hand, he even let you light it for him before you grabbed one for yourself and sparked it up.

He watched as you laid on the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling as you blew smoke rings. You looked so pleased with yourself, bedsheet pulled up over your chest as you watched the smoke rise and then disappear.

“That your party trick?” he asked.

You laughed, turning your head to look over at him. “Hardly. My last partner, the one I had before I came down here, he taught me how to do it.” You took another drag off your cigarette, puffing out another ring for emphasis. “Too many hours cooped up in a shitty car on stakeouts with nothing better to do.”

He chuckled. “Oh yea?”

“Don’t worry,” you looked over at him with an amused glint in your eyes, “I wasn’t doing this on stakeouts.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You would’ve thought of it later and never let it go,” you cut him off, giving a small dismissive wave of your hand, painting a swirl with the smoke coming off your cigarette as you did.

There was more to be said, you were sure of it. There were discussions to be had, probably boundaries to be laid out. But you didn’t want to get into all of that in the moment. It was good. Things felt good and easy after weeks of everything feeling anything but good and easy. Judging by the look on Walt’s face, he was having very similar thoughts. So you both finished your cigarettes in silence. Walt leaned, reaching over you to drop it into the ashtray. On the way back, he stopped, letting his arm drape across you for a moment. The look on his face was one of asking for permission, like he needed to know that this little bit of softness was okay after everything that had happened.

You just smiled before reaching and turning off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. Rolling onto your side so that your back was to Walt, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm around you. He slid up behind you so that his chest was pressed to your back, keeping the two of you close. This would do for now. Everything else could at least wait until morning.