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#I have asks to answer and work to do but first vanity
harrysfolklore · 3 months
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jacob elordi and yn take a lie detector test | vanity fair
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | jacob insta blurb
"YN," the interviewer said, you and Jacob were sitting side by side with expectation shown in your faces, "Jacob."
"Hello," you said in unison, which made you look at each other and laugh.
"We're going to be taking a lie detector test today," the interviewer explained, "One of you will he hooked up to the machine while the other asks questions, and then you'll switch."
"Why are my palms sweating?" you said, making Jacob laugh and kiss the side of your head quickly.
"Who would you like to go first?" the interviewer asked again.
Jacob and you looked at each other for a few seconds before he winked at you and told the interviewer he would go first.
The video showed someone from the crew getting the machine ready and getting Jacob hooked to it.
"Do I look afraid?" Jacob asked, making you relax and laugh.
"You look fine, babe," you looked at the guy who was in charge of the machine, who give you the cue that you could start asking questions, "Okay, is your real name Jacob Elordi?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Were you born in Melborune, Australia?"
"No, I was born in Brisbane."
"Are you ready to take this lie detector test?" you asked, a smile playing on your face.
"I think so," he looked at you with a nervous smile and then looked at the camera.
"Okay, let's get started."
JACOB ELORDI TELLS THE TRUTH
"So, you were born in Australia. Do you like LA better?" you asked, reading the folder in front of you.
"Right now, yeah," Jacob answered, a small screen on the top left showing the lie detector machine working.
"Would you say you've adopted the LA lifestyle since moving here?"
"Yes,"
"Do you like going to yoga classes with me?" you raised your eyebrow, noticing a smile appearing on Jacob's face
"Absolutely." he answered confidently and you directed your raised eyebrow to the man behind the machine.
"He's telling the truth," the man said
"Were you doubting me?" Jacob said, an offended tone in his voice.
"Just confirming," you looked at the folder once again,"Do you consider yourself a heartthrob?"
"Yeah," he answered, but the look on his face said otherwise.
"A lie," the man said.
"I don't consider myself a heartthrob," he began, "but I mean I guess I kinda have to accept it."
"Yep, there you go," you said and a cheeky smile played on your face as you read the following question, "Have you ever felt jealous of any of my co stars?"
The room got quiet after the question, Jacob threw his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Just answer the question!" you said and he shook his head.
"I wouldn't say that I'm a jealous person, specially not of your co stars because I'm an actor myself and I know how it works," he began, "I'm just protective, okay?"
"No reading, that was too close," the man behind the machine spoke, "It was a gray area, we could ask it again or we could just move on."
"Let's move on, he doesn't want to admit that he was jealous of Andrew Garfield on camera," you joked and Jacob couldn't help but laugh along, "Did you feel nervous during our first date?"
"Yes," his eyes widened at the memory, "I was about to piss my pants, actually."
"Truth,"
"Oh I already knew that," you shrugged with a cocky smile, "If I asked you to move to New York with me, would you do it?"
"Yeah, definitely," he smiled, "New York is the shit."
"Alright, babe, let's keep this interesting," you said with a grin. The lie detector machine still monitoring his responses, "Have you ever borrowed my clothes without asking?"
"Of course, guilty as charged," Jacob chuckled, "Your oversized sweaters are just too comfy to resist, love, and don't get me started on your purses,"
"This shouldn't have been a question, everyone knows the purses you use to go out are mine," you rolled your eyes with affection,"Okay last one from me,"
"Bring it,"
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
You looked at Jacob curiously, and he took a moment before replying.
"Yeah, I do," he answered smoothly, "I mean when I met you, there was this instant connection, and I just knew there was something special about you."
"He's telling the truth," the lie detector confirmed, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Smooth answer, Elordi. Looks like we're on the same page about love at first sight," he smiled back at you, "Lord that was so cheesy, It's my turn! But, did at any point of this interview did you lie and we didn't catch you?"
"I mean, I don't know if you caught me," Jacob rested his chin on his hand.
"Did he lie?" you asked the man, both you and Jacob turning to look at him.
"He's not lying," He confirmed and Jacob gave you a smug smile
"I guess you passed the test."
YN TELLS THE TRUTH
You took your place in the hot seat while Jacob prepared to play the role of the interrogator, nerves kicking in as the crew hooked you up to the machine.
"Okay, YN," Jacob said, a smirk showing on his face, "Let's get started, shall we?"
You nodded and he sent you a wink.
"Is your favorite movie still 'The Notebook'?"
"Absolutely," you answered immediately and the machine confirmed your answer.
"Classic," he muttered, "Have you ever faked a compliment about my cooking?"
"Maybe once or twice, but it's only because I didn't want to hurt your feelings," you bit your lip, and Jacob gave you a surprised expression
"So, I've been living a lie?" he raised his eyebrow at you.
"No, no," you reassured him, "Your cooking skills have definitely improved over time."
"Truth," the man in charge of the lie detector said, and Jacob nodded in approval.
"Fair enough. Now, have you ever pretended to like a movie just because I wanted to watch it?"
"Guilty again," you covered your face in embarrassment,"But in my defense, no one wants to watch the Star Wars movies after a long day of filming."
"My feelings are definitely hurt," Jacob said and dramatically put a hand on his chest, "This test is making you look like a bad girlfriend, actually,"
"Come on now, give me more questions,"
"Alright, let's dig a little deeper," Jacob said with a smirk, "Have you ever considered stealing my phone to read my text messages?"
"Maybe once or twice," you said, "But only out of curiosity, not suspicion."
"Well, you know I'm wrapped around your finger so I would let you go through it anytime," he shrugged, "Do you think my Australian accent is sexier than your American one?"
"Oh, come on! That's not a fair question," you couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Just answer the question, love," Jacob teased.
"Fine, fine," you said, still laughing, "Yes, your Australian accent is undeniably sexy."
"Truth," the machine confirmed, and Jacob playfully raised an eyebrow looking satisfied.
"Do you regret any of the roles you've played?" he asked, and you took a deep breath before answering.
"No, all of the roles I've played have been very meaningful to me," you replied, and the man operating the machine machine looked at you with a raised eyebrow."
"She's lying," he simply said, and you shut your eyes hearing Jacob laugh.
"I guess you have some explaining to do," he chuckled, shooting a playful glare at you, "Come on, spill it."
"Okay, fine," you admitted, "There was this one project early in my career that I took for the paycheck, and looking back, I wish I had chosen something more aligned with my values. It's not a regret per se, but more of a lesson learned."
"Fair enough," Jacob nodded, moving to the next question, "Have you ever stalked fan accounts dedicated to me?"
"Maybe a casual scroll here and there," you admitted, trying to seem cool about it.
"Casual scroll, huh?" Jacob raised an eyebrow and peeked at the lie detector, "The machine doesn't seem convinced, right?" he asked the man.
"It's a lie," he confirmed ad Jacob burst into laughter.
"Caught red-handed, love. What's next? Have you ever used my toothbrush without telling me?" he teased, making you laugh
"No way! That's just gross," you protested
"You hesitated there. Are you sure?" Jacob raised an eyebrow again
The machine signaled the truth, and you sighed in relief.
"I was just grossed out by the thought. I promise I've never done that."
"It's not like we haven't kissed before," he teased and you rolled your eyes but smiled, "Okay last question.
"Hit me with it," you said, ready for whatever it would be.
"Have you ever thought about what our future holds? Like, where we'll be in 10 years?" he asked, his expression turning serious.
You took a moment to contemplate the question.
"Yes," you answered sincerely, "I think about it quite often. I imagine us still together, maybe with a family, still acting and pursuing our passions and of course supporting each other."
"Truth," the lie detector machine confirmed your words, and Jacob's serious expression softened into a warm smile.
"Well, looks like we're on the same page there once again," he said, "Did you lie at any time and we didn't catch you?"
"Nope, I was an open book, babe," you replied, sending a wink his way.
"Did she lie?" Jacob turned to the man behind the machine,
The man hesitated for a moment, building suspense, before finally saying, "She's telling the truth."
"Told you!"
The video ended with both of you laughing at each other, and it became one of Vanity Fair's most watched Lie Detector tests.
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yzzart · 5 months
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hii!! love your work and i appreciate you so much for writing for tom <3 i was wondering if you could write a tom blyth x reader for the interview the cast did of how well the know each other??
An unfair test.
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: do you, Rachel and Josh, really, know Tom?
word count: 1.990!
notes: anon, you don't know how much i enjoy writing these types of interviews and i love you for requesting this! — and i'm serious, I LOVE writing this!
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"And today, we'll be competing against each other to see how well we know our friend Tom Blyth!" — You explained, crossing your legs and excited about what could happen.
"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you took one of the small cards that Tom was holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it.
"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Is asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him cheating?" — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.
"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.
"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and returning the small card to your boyfriend.
"Oh yeah?" —Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. - "Look at this!" — She exclaimed, surprised and Josh's laugh was followed by the camera.
"Alright, let's do it." — Tom continued with an excited tone, moving the pen, which will be used, and reading for quick seconds the question that was on one of the cards. — "First question…" — He placed the card with the name 'Vanity Fair' on his chest. — "…what is my biggest fear?"
Tom looked at you, with a funny look of complicity and as if he was saying "oh, you know the answer" and it was, impossible, to try or contain the laughter. — Receiving looks and attention from Rachel and Josh.
"She knows." — Josh stated, thinking about his possible answer or something that could come to a correct conclusion. — "She definitely knows." — Leaning on the chain, you touched his arm.
"It's kind of funny to look at you and be like, hm, let me guess." — Rachel leaned over, resting her fingers on her chin, indicating a thoughtful pose and appearance. — "Let me guess, you don't wanna die alone." — She laughed. — "Please, Y/N, give me a clue!" — Her head rested on your shoulder.
"Wait, i guess i'm not so sure about my answer." — Tom's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened, dramatically, a little at your words. — "I just think! "— You bit your lip, poking his knee.
"I have a guess." — Rachel turned to her boyfriend, waiting for him to say something or even give the correct answer.
"I think, mine is probably a little bit more shallow, but i think i got a guess, too." — Tom laughed at Josh's comment.
"Mine's the opposite." — Rachel said. — "You have a fear of like open water." — She observed some reaction or at least a simple speck of something new on his face, trying to guess if she was correct, but, she found nothing. — "Okay, you don't."
"What, is that your guess?" — He asked, tilting his head, as if wanting confirmation and certainty, to Rachel.
"Yeah, that's my guess." — She shook her head.
"Okay, Josh?" — Tom asked.
"I was gonna say mountain lions." — He reflected, still not sure if he would really go ahead with this guess and loud, synchronized laughter erupted in the room.
"In what way is this more shallow?" — Your boyfriend questioned himself and looked for a justification, a meaning for that comment. — "I'm curious."
"That's very poetic, in certain words." — You raised his hand in defense.
"I thought you were gonna say something like conceptual." — He referred to Rachel's guess, which failed along the way, and tried to justify it.
"Are you sure about your guess, darling?" — Tom pointed the card, with the answer, at you and he couldn't hide, even biting his lip, the anxious smile and, really, hoping that you would say the right answer. — "Or will it be a concrete answer?"
"You're making me nervous, excuse me?" — Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Definitely snakes." — You replied confidently, looking at your boyfriend and then at the camera.
"Actually, ironically, and that's like my childhood fear…" — He waved his hand. — "…which i've already overcome." — Tom finally turned the little card over so that the answer was visible and being revealed. — "Snakes!"
"The purest irony, that's incredible." — Tom pointed at you, a sign of affirmation. — "And so funny at the same time."
"Yes!" — He turned the card over again.. — "I was afraid of snakes when i was a kid because i saw a lot of Indiana Jones, and i watched a lot." — A scenario of little Tom watching Indiana Jones played in his head, causing a smile to appear on his lips. — "And i feel like this fear transformed me, you know?"
"Because cool people can be afraid of snakes." — Rachel added.
"Because cool people are afraid of snakes." — Tom agreed.
"And the fact that on set, we had two snakes, and you had to act with them for one part, is impressive." — Tom once again placed his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly.
"But, i'm not afraid of them anymore." — Maybe, a little, but, he wouldn't say at that moment. — "I've had a lot of therapy, honey." — You laughed. — "That's my biggest childhood fear, like, it's the first thing that would come to my mind if you asked me that."
In the future, during the editing of the video, a scoreboard with your name, Rachel's and Josh's would appear at that moment and with each one's score. — And you would be ahead, even with your colleagues' comments about how unfair it seemed that you were winning. — Indeed.
"Next question!" — Tom warned, holding up another card. — "Who is my ideal dinner guest?" — He looked at you again as you thought of yet another answer or possible guess.
"Normally, i would say, but, anyway." — You shrugged, pretending to be thinking about something and got laughs in the room, including from the people who were working behind the cameras; Rachel rested her hand on your back, still laughing. — "This is difficult even for me."
"That's my first and foremost answer!" — Tom stuttered confidently, lifting the paper carefully so that the answer wasn't visible. — "But, let's consider a second option."
"I'm going to say Francis Lawrence…" — Rachel suggested, slowly, and focusing on the main camera in front of her. — "…director of The Hunger Games." — You laughed. — "And to be fair, we'd all have him as a special guest, and he's the best guest."
"He's a great dinner guest." — You mumbled. — "I think he could easily be my guess."
"Oh, mine too." — Rachel positioned herself. — “And i feel like you, that's your ideal, someone who can talk about wine and loves food.” — She paused, thinking about her words and acting as if she said something. — "Y/N could fit that description like a shame, now that i see it." — Her voice swore, and turning her head towards you .
"I was going to say that now!" — Josh said, crossing his arms. — "My guess, which i feel is terrible, is going to be Cyndi Lauper, you know." — He uncrossed his arms, resting one of them on his leg and Rachel hugged the other.
"Okay, okay." — Tom turns the paper to the camera. — "I think it would be David Bowie." — God, you would never get that right.
"I swear he didn't cross my mind for a second." — Your head shook in denial, and in disbelief.
"Me too, i wouldn't understand that." — Josh looked at one of the cameras and Rachel moved one of her hands, a little in disbelief and intrigued.
"What it is, i just think it would be really fun." — Tom tried to justify. — "Okay, so, we have no points for Rachel and Josh and…" — He acted out a movement like they were playing a drum. — "…one point for Y/N."
"We are terrible." — Rachel confessed to her boyfriend. — "Terrible."
“And i feel like she can get another point now.” — Tom read the question quickly, before looking at you, who furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"Really?" — You questioned, shook your leg and the british nodded.
"What's my go-to karaoke song?" — He read it and, in the same second, he started writing the answer and thousands of songs ran through his mind; one after the other.
The last karaoke night where you and Tom were present was recent; and, magically, incredible to the point of completing an album of photos and videos in your gallery. — However, it was clearly impossible to conclude what his favorite song was. — And it wasn't an exaggeration or anything like that.
"And you saying i was going to get this one right." — Your complaint passed through the ears of your boyfriend, who showed an incredulous expression.
"Our last karaoke night was, like, two weeks ago?" — Tom didn't remember, and he remembered few things. — "I think, i'm not sure."
"I'm not going to karaoke with you guys" — Rachel's soft voice introduced. — "And i need to start going." — She turned to Josh and you.
"I don't think you sing." — Josh looked up as he spoke.
"He actually sings." — You answered him. — "And he dedicates himself like no one else, a true spectacle."
“I will say it was definitely a punk rock thing.” — Josh's guess entered his mind, and he thought about agreeing with it. — "Something like."
"I would say that a chorus of a Spice Girls or Backsteet Boys song with your voice crossed my mind, but i don't want to consider it as a guess right now." — You placed your hand on your mouth, laughing at the fictional scenario.
"And i would say i don't know what to say." — Rachel murmured. — "Serious."
"I'll give you a hint, it's probably not what you'd expect." — Tom tried to help, but nothing came to her mind.
"I guess that didn't help, dear."
"Mambo number five…" — Josh suggested, speaking quietly, but sure of his guess.
"Josh's mambo number five, what's your guess?" — Blyth directed the small card towards you and Rachel, waiting for your response.
"Any of backsteet boys." — You didn't even specify any of the group's songs, and you wouldn't even have time to choose them; it was as if all their names had disappeared from your consciousness. — "Any one."
"I'm gonna say…" — Rachel thought.
"No, i'll change mine to All the small things." — At the last second, Josh changed his guess and you thought about changing but decided against it.
"All the small things, okay." — Tom pointed out.
"I'm going to say 'I miss you' by Blink 182." — Rachel said with certainty, as there weren't many options due to the lack of opportunities to attend singing nights.
"Wow, it's really the 2000s." — He separated some cards on his lap before turning to the question. — "The answer is, somewhat surprisingly…" — For the third time, Tom turns over the paper with the answer. — "Senhorita by Justin Timberlake."
The disbelieving and doubtful reactions and expressions on your faces were met by Tom's warm and loud laugh. — None of you expected that song. — And you don't remember him singing it.
Or, simply put, that memory was in the back of your mind.
"No chance, not possible." — You said intrigued, looking at your boyfriend and shaking your head in denial, for the second time.
"I don't remember you singing that." — Josh also tried to remember or have some memory with the mentioned song but nothing happened, he didn't remember either. — "Serious."
"We sing!" — Tom insinuated, pointing at you and Josh, who looked at each other and still don't remember the moment; that is if it really existed and he sang that song. — "Because Y/N mentioned Backsteet boys, we can put at least half a point." — Therefore, your name would have a new punctuation, even though it was small and not very valid. — "And she continues ahead!"
"Oh, i give up." — Rachel and Josh spoke at the same time, holding their hands up and laughing loudly.
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chaotic-birds · 7 months
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be with you || j.pt
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Jason wakes up in the middle of the night and you're not there.
🌙 Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (gn)
🌙 Genres/AUs: Fluff, (emotional) hurt/comfort, established relationship
🌙 Warning(s): mention of kidnapping
🌙 Word Count: 1.1k
🌙 Author's Note: I have so many Jason Todd fic ideas 😵‍💫 For now, I decided to just write this. I normally don't post such short fics, but I want to get used to doing so. Sometimes I just wanna write without thinking of intensive plots 😪 That being said, please enjoy this little fluff piece! Sometimes, we just need some fluff in our lives. Also, this is my first Jason fic after a few years so… 😬 (im a lil nervous)
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When Jason turns to his other side to pull you against him, his eyes fly open.
Your side of the bed is empty.
And cold.
Which means it’s been a while since you left.
You left.
Did you leave or did someone take you?
Jason’s distressed eyes scan the bedroom. There’s no sign of a struggle. Plus, he would at least hope he’d wake up to the commotion if something like that happened.
But if you didn’t get kidnapped, where did you go?
Worry fills his chest and his heart pumps faster at the influx of questions in his head.
All the doubt about whether he’s making you happy clouds his mind. Had he said something yesterday that had upset you? Are you not happy with him anymore? Did someone better come into your life?
Jason groans and rakes his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the ends to feel something other than uneasiness.
His hands fall to his sides when he sees your belongings at your vanity.
That’s a good sign, right? Maybe you didn’t leave him after all.
Jason slides off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.
“Babe?” he calls.
There’s no answer.
He wanders to the bathroom. Empty.
He goes to the living room. Empty.
Finally, he goes to your home office.
You’re sat in your chair with your headset on, fingers clacking against the keyboard.
The heavyweight he had put on his shoulders instantly lifted. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He takes three large steps before he encloses his arms around you from behind.
You yelp, jumping and hitting your head against his jaw.
He grunts at having bit the inside of his cheek in the process.
Although your arms are glued to your sides, you tilt your head and lift a hand as high as it can go to remove your headset.
“Jay?” you question. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”
He shakes his head and nuzzles his face against your neck more.
You lax in his arms, rubbing along his forearms and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you awake then?” you wonder after a while.
“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I forgot I had to finish something for work.”
“But it’s half past three. Can’t it wait?”
“Sadly, no,” you sigh.
Carefully, you try to pull apart his arms to free yourself. Jason refuses to let you do so.
“Baby,” you laugh softly when he holds you tighter. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be done in a bit.”
“No,” he grumbles.
Knowing he won’t give up, at least not easily, you nod. “Alright then. Should I bring in another chair for you?”
Jason shakes his head and finally lets go. He slides your chair back slightly and sinks to the floor in front of you.
Your legs part when he makes a home between them, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his head on top of your thigh.
“Comfy?” you ask with a small smile, slightly amused.
He simply hums and closes his eyes.
Your gaze lingers on him before you focus on your work once more. You hurry more now, wanting to get back to bed with Jason.
A few minutes have passed when Jason speaks again.
“I-I thought you left me,” he whispers.
Your hands pause in their movement.
“Oh Jace,” you begin gently and place a hand against his cheek.
His eyes flutter open at your touch. His blue eyes are filled with worry and fear.
“I would never leave you.”
His eyes move between yours, trying to find a reason not to believe you. There’s that rotten side of him that tells him he doesn’t deserve to have company. That it’s inevitable for him to be alone.
“Unless you want me to,” you add.
He shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t say that.”
You smile softly at him. “Then it’s a done deal. You’re mine until the end of time.”
Jason cracks a small smile at your words, lifting his head.
“I like the sound of that,” he says.
Your grin grows. “I do too.”
Jason leans up, and you meet him halfway for a tender kiss.
“I’ve still got more to do. You want to go to bed now?” you ask once you pull away.
“Nope, I’m staying,” he replies, resting his head back on your leg.
His tone sounds lighter now, making your heart warm. Although you love all sides of Jason, this may be your favorite one.
Happy. Soft. Vulnerable.
After forty more minutes, you finally finish.
Jason has fallen asleep and has filled the room with his light snores. Some of his hair lays on his face, some of it slightly ruffled from sleeping in the bed earlier.
Cute.
You bring a hand to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You scratch at his scalp gently to wake him.
His eyes open, drooping and groggily.
“I’m done, let’s go to bed now,” you say.
He nods and slowly stands up from the floor. He sways a little on tired legs.
“Come on, sleepy head,” you tease lightly and grab his hand.
He lets you guide him back to the bedroom. You sit him down on the edge then gesture in the direction of the bathroom.
“I need to pee; you gonna come with me or will you stay here?” you question.
Jason frowns but nods. “If you take longer than five minutes, I’m coming in.”
You laugh and kiss the crown of his head. “If you say so.”
You know he’s being honest so you rush. Luckily, you make it in time for him not to come get you.
Jason hasn’t moved from when you left. He’s staring at the doorway, feet thumping rhythmically against the floor.
“You’re so needy tonight,” you observe and climb into bed. Jason scoots back until he’s beside you.
“I just miss you,” he sighs, pulling you against him like he originally wanted to do.
You lean back against his chest to feel him more.
“I’ve missed you too, Jay,” you reply.
There's been a rise in crime lately, which resulted in Jason being out in the field more than usual. However, it feels as if there’s a break and you and Jason are making the most of it. You’re sure he will be summoned again soon.
Jason snuggles your body more—if possible—and kisses the back of your head.
“We’re so sleeping in today,” he mumbles, a slight groan accompanying his words.
You giggle. “I can’t protest that.”
“Hm, good,” he says. “Goodnight, baby.”
Smiling, you echo, “Goodnight, Jay.”
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©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
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puzzled-pegasus · 2 months
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Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use
SkyWings
“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)
“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)
“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)
“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)
“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)
“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)
“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)
“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)
“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)
SandWings
“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)
“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)
“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)
“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)
MudWings
“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)
“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)
“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)
SeaWings
“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)
“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)
“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)
“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)
“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)
NightWings
“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)
“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)
“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)
“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)
"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)
RainWings
“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)
“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)
“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)
“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)
“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)
“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)
“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)
IceWings
“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)
“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)
“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)
“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)
“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight
“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)
HiveWings
“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)
“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)
“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)
SilkWings
“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)
“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)
“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)
LeafWings
“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)
“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)
“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)
“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)
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zablife · 5 months
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🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ screeching in here now that my coffee has kicked in and I can type sentences again. Very excited that your requests are open again!
Please could I have something based around ‘Are you jealous?’ with Tommy?
Sorry I know you’ll get a million Tommy requests but I’m just a girl 🙈 I am not immune. Ideally the filthier the better 🤭 but just wherever the muse takes you babe! xxx
Thanks for the request, Alex! I've combined your ask for smut with another lovely anon's request for a Cillian character w/ breeding kink. I hope this is ok! (Slight warning for hints of dark, possessive Tommy, but not to worry bc it turns to fluff at the end.)
All Mine 🔞
Tommy x gf reader
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Tommy's nails dug into your forearm as he dragged you away from the party you were hosting. "Where are we going?" you whispered, stumbling slightly to keep pace with his strides. Taking one last glance over your shoulder, you flashed an apologetic smile to your guests, realizing they were as confused as you were.
Once out of earshot, Tommy's composure shattered, rage melting his icy blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you'd fucked my new business partner?" he seethed.
You shook free of his hold with an indignant look. "Jesus, Tommy! That was five years ago!" You rolled your eyes as he began pacing the long corridor. In his haste to leave the table, he'd forgotten his cigarette case and without the distraction, his agitation grew.
Throwing your hands up, you exclaimed, "Yes, I have a past! But I didn't think someone like you would hold that against me."
He stalked toward you, narrowing his eyes as he came close enough for you to smell the whisky on his breath. "But I do, especially when you spend half the fucking night whispering in his ear!"
You gathered your long skirt over your arm in preparation to leave, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Every conversation you'd had that evening was in promotion of Shelby Company Limited. Frankly, you were fed up with all the business talk and ready to scream at him for his ungrateful attitude. However something stirred inside when you glimpsed the tortured look in his eye. Your shoulders relaxed, backing down from the fight when you realized he was nothing more than a hurt little boy lashing out.
"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, an irrepressible giggle bubbling up from your chest at the idea of him pouting like a child.
"You're the one making a fool of yourself," he grumbled, not in the mood for teasing.
Caressing his face with your hand, you attempted to bring back the confident man you knew. In these moments he needed you to quiet his inner voice of inadequacy. "Where do you get these ridiculous notions and when will you give them up?" you scolded with a peck to his lips. You only intended a brief moment of affection before returning to your guests, but Tommy had other ideas.
Leaning down to hook a strong arm beneath your knees, he lifted you off the ground. Yelping in surprise, you threw your arms around his neck to brace yourself. You couldn't be sure, but you thought you detected a hint of a smirk tug at Tommy's lips as he carried you toward the staircase and away from the noise of the first floor.
Alone in the quiet of the bedroom, Tommy's intentions were clear. Hands roving your body, he hitched up your skirt, squeezing the flesh of your ass appreciatively. His body pressed into yours insistently, slamming your back against the vanity mirror with enough force to break it.
"Tommy, slow down," you begged, unable to keep up with his feverish kisses. However, his ministrations did not stop, his large hand encircling your throat possessively as the other dipped between your legs. He unexpectedly forced your underwear aside to push two fingers into your sopping heat.
"Is this for him or me?" he demanded in a low voice, pumping his digits into you the way he knew drove you wild. You could scarcely think as he worked you into a frenzy matching his own, but you knew he expected an answer.
"You...always you, Tom," you huffed out in uneven breaths, gripping his shoulder for support when he began biting and sucking near your collarbone. With that declaration Tommy abruptly stopped, staring into your eyes to determine the truth. Finding them glossy with unshed tears and feeling the flutter of your desire around his fingers, he was satisfied you were being honest with him. He rewarded you by hooking his fingers against the achingly delicious spot within you that set stars dancing behind your eyelids.
"So perfect," he praised, pressing his forehead to yours. "And loyal?"
"Yes," you whimpered as his thumb grazed your clit, sending sparks shooting through you.
"Then there's one more thing you need to do to prove it," he pronounced, withdrawing his hand and denying your pleasure so as to have your undivided attention. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, tears nearly spilling onto your flushed cheeks in protest.
The hand at your throat stroked your delicate skin gently as he fed you his soaked fingers. You sucked wantonly on your own juices while he nuzzled his nose against yours and whispered to you softly. "If you give me a child, there won't be any more doubts."
Your eyes went wide at his request, but he scarcely noticed, rubbing himself against your thigh to show how eager he was to begin. "Take off your dress," he commanded in a low voice.
"Now? We have guests," you reminded him, but he wouldn't hear any arguments.
A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he answered, "I don't give a fuck. Take it off now or I'll do it for you."
Apparently you didn't make your decision quickly enough because you heard the snag of fabric before catching the rapid motion of his hands out of the corner of your eye. Within moments the slit at your thigh was torn to your waist, exposing your lower half and sending shivers through your entire body.
With a harsh gulp, you removed the damaged garments as Tommy watched with lust filled eyes, stroking himself before you shamelessly. "That's better," he hummed in satisfaction, palming the globe of your breast. You nodded, biting your lip. You'd learned long ago you were powerless against Tommy's will, his desires becoming your own.
"Have to show that bastard who you belong to," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed you onto the mattress. You could only nod in agreement as he entered you swiftly, setting a brutal pace from the start. It was unlike anything you'd experienced before with Tommy rutting into you with reckless abandon. His hips slammed into yours with punishing force, fingers at your hips wrapped tightly enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.
Your cries soon echoed through the room and he did nothing to quiet you. In fact he spurred you on, demanding to hear how much you wanted his seed. You had no trouble complying, cries falling from your lips with each deep stroke. "Please, Tommy," you pleaded in a high pitched whine you barely recognized as your own, needing his comforting warmth within you instead of spurting across your chest or stomach.
The sight of you with half lidded eyes, begging for his cum was all Tommy needed to tumble over the edge. Quickly losing rhythm, he clutched your waist mumbling, "Going to fill you up." Suddenly his hips stuttered to a halt as he seated himself deep within you. You moaned at the intoxicating feeling of rope after rope of hot cum coating your insides, his release triggering your own. While you rubbed your clit to prolong the waves of pleasure, you heard Tommy moan at the way your cunt continued to milk him. "Such a good girl, taking every last drop," he praised.
He took a moment to admire you, watching your ample chest heaving and plump lips parted in ecstasy. He'd never felt so satisfied, but he soon collapsed upon you in contented exhaustion.
The enormity of what you'd just done came rushing toward you, but you were calmed by the weight of his body holding you down. Running your fingertips through the soft, shorn sides of his hair you mused, "Tommy, what is it you really want?" You could still feel the way his heart beat against his ribcage, transferring vibration through your body. It felt as though you could share anything with each other in this moment, while you were still joined as one.
He raised his face from the crook of your neck to place a tender kiss to your lips. "You," he stated simply. Running a hand down your body to rest over your stomach, he added, "Can you blame me? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. Of course I want you to have my children."
You beamed at him, heart swelling with pride at his admission. He wasn't normally so effusive. Leaning in to kiss him, he withdrew from you and you let out a whimper at the aching emptiness. As sticky white rivulets of his spend ran down your inner thighs, Tommy scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you.
You sighed contentedly as he placed a kiss to your temple, aftershocks from your orgasm causing you to clench onto his fingers, drawing his cum further inside you. "Good girl, keep it in," he instructed, peppering your face with kisses as you grew sleepy.
However, one thought lingered in the back of your mind. "How could you have thought I wanted anyone else? You know I'm all yours," you declared, hoping to dispel any lingering worry he might have. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Tommy's cock stir against your thigh.
Removing his fingers from you, he replaced them with his cock and began slow, gentle thrusts against your opening until he was hard enough to bury himself into you once more. He groaned at the sight of your tightness split around him, looking as though you were made just for him. Leaning down to cradle your neck and shoulders under his arms, he held you close. Hot breath fanning over your ear, he murmured, "When I see your beautiful body swollen with my child, then I'll know you're all mine."
A needy cry escaped your throat as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, your nails clawing at his back to urge him back inside. "S'alright," he hushed, "I'm going to keep you full," he promised with a snap of his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, heels eagerly pressing into his back to accept everything he could give.
------------
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thank you
charles leclerc x reader
summary - reader has been stressed from work, leading charles to give her comfort.
masterlist
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-
letting out a deep sigh, you begin your long trek up the stairs to yours and your boyfriends shared apartment. work had been kicking your ass recently, and charles knew it - it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.
you had been lightly moody, working later hours than usual, tired, quiet, and so much more. it visibly countered your usual personality of bright and bubbly, passionate about your work, and confident in your ways. 
charles held an understanding and empathetic response to your recent behavior, he too had rough relationships with work - he knew how draining it can get. and everytime he broke, you were there to pick up the pieces - you were his rock and now it was his turn to be yours.
it was the beautiful give and take that prospered in your love, when one of you could only give thirty percent in your ways, the other made up the seventy. your recent loss of effort, not for lack of trying to give your all, had made charles step up to the plate. 
your jingle of keys outside alerted charles of your entrance before your presence even appeared. once inside, charles looked up at your slumped figure leaning against the wall, struggling to remove the heels on your feet.
he slid off the couch, meeting your form at the door, and dropping down to a knee. his left hand slid up your right calf and placed the heel on his knee. his hands began to remove your shoe and once the right heel was discarded, he tapped his leg again and motioned for your other foot. you switched weight to your right and placed your left foot onto his knee as he began to gently remove the other shoe. with the heels safely placed on the ground and off your aching feet, charles brings himself back up to his full height and begins to remove your jacket and purse. with those then hung onto the rack by your door, he reaches behind you and locks up, proceeding to then grab your hand softly and lead you to the bedroom. 
you trail behind him quietly as he opens and shuts the door to your bedroom. once inside, he guides you to sit on the chair of your vanity in the room because according to yourself ‘outside clothes are not allowed on the bed’ which is heavily enforced in your home.
charles begins to disappear into the shared closet and reappears with your favorite loungewear, his tshirt and his sweatpants. once you were fully dressed, you were finally comfortable enough to break the comfortable silence between you two.
“thank you,” you whisper, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes. he stalks over to you, pulling you closer by your waist, giving you a chaste kiss to your lips. 
“not necessary, amour,” he replies, “what do you need from me, y/n?” sincerity and concern are laced in soft tones throughout your boyfriends voice. you could tell he was yearning to help you, aching to give you comfort, hoping his actions would bring you back with light. you wanted to give it to him, wanted to feel like yourself again - but you couldn’t.
and charles understood that with one look into your eyes. “okay, amour, okay,” he replies to your non-verbal answer. 
“i’m sorry, char,” you fell into his arms fully, him quickly reacting by wrapping his own around you tightly. he presses multiple kisses to the top of your head and drops one hand to run it down your back.
“you have nothing to be sorry for, feeling like this is normal. i just ask that you take care of yourself - that’s all i want,” you reposition your head as he speaks to you in order to look up at his face, he tilts his head down and gives you a small smile, “now how about we get some food into you, huh?” he adds on with an encouraging smile.
“i’m not that hungr-”
“nuh-uh,” he cuts you off, “you’re eating,” he shakes his head as he looks down at you, still holding his smile, “now i don’t care what you eat, but you need to eat, ok?”
and for the first time that entire day, you smiled. a real genuine smile. charles felt as though his heart grew as it rapidly beat in his chest. two and a half years together and you still gave him butterflies, even after a simple smile. 
“okay, i’ll eat,” you answer, “what should we have?”
“anything you want, baby,” charles gave you a light tap and squeeze to the bum as he ushered you out of your bedroom and into the kitchen.
your mood had instantly increased since you walked through the door of your apartment. trading the bright fluorescent lighting in the office to the dim, candle and lamp-lit apartment that your boyfriend had kindly arranged. the little things that he constantly did always left you at ease. even if it were as simple as the lighting.
you both walked into the dimly lit kitchen as charles led you to sit at the stool in front of your kitchen island. walking around the counter, your doting boyfriend began to rummage through the cabinets in search of a proper meal for you both.
“love, i think we have some ramen in the top cabinet,” you offer up, “i am not going to feed you ramen after your tough day, y/n,” he gives back.
“but i like ramen,” you whine lightly. and you did. was it what you preferred after a day of only sneaking bites here and there of your breakfast bagel and stale black coffee? no. but neither of you cook perfectly, and you were not about to leave your apartment after your day. 
“fine, but just know that i protested,” he held his hands up to feign his innocence before he continued, “i like ramen too, but you deserve the good restaurant ramen after the day you had, not the packet that we don’t even dress up well,”
“then let’s dress it up!” you cheer, giving charles what he had been wanting this past week - your sparkle. it’s in your eyes, your smile, and your soul. he can feel the real you, the bright you, coming to the surface - and he would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to keep it there. 
“okay, cherie, get the eggs and spring onions out of the fridge for me, please,” he laughs out his request because of your lightened behavior.
you hop off the stool and head to the fridge with a skip. charles admires you as he retrieves the pots and pans for your cooking adventure. he knew you both wouldn’t be able to do the food justice, but the time together was everything he always looked forward to. low music on in the background, dim lighting and candles lit, quiet instructions being passed between the two of you, horrible dance moves being executed, butchered singing and corny jokes. it was his favorite time with you. your work, his work, fan drama, family drama - it was all forgotten. you both had entered your self care bubble and were working on gaining joy back into the commonality of life. 
after the noodles and other ingredients were simmering on the stove, you reached around charles to grab bowls and chopsticks for your dinner and his hands found home to your waist. the bowls and utensils were then set on the counter and you spun in his hold. charles bent down, reaching your lips with his own and you hummed in approval. 
when you broke for air, his forehead stayed connected to your own and you whispered once again, “thank you,”
“always, amour”
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The Quiet One 6
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: have a good day.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 
You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 
“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 
You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 
“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 
“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 
“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 
You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 
“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 
“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  
He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 
“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 
“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 
“I didn’t say...” 
“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 
“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 
You don’t know how else to explain it.  
He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 
You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  
“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 
You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 
“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 
You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 
“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 
“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 
He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 
Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 
“Yum,” he purrs. 
He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 
He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 
“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 
You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 
“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 
“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 
“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 
He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 
“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 
He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 
He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 
“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  
“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 
“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 
Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 
Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 
You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 
You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 
You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 
You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 
“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 
He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 
Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 
👄
You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 
There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 
You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 
“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 
You shrug and shake your head. 
He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 
Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 
You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 
“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 
He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 
“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 
“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  
“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 
“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 
“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 
He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 
You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 
You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 
You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  
You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 
You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 
“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 
You sniff, “sure.” 
You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 
Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 
“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 
You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 
“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 
You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 
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alicerosejensen · 3 months
Note
OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH
I JUST HAD A CUTE LITTLE SCENARIO IDEA. It is about vendetta! leon and young(20’s) reader series! What about reader sitting on the bathrooms counter/vanity while helping Leon shave? His hands are resting on readers tighs or around her waist as he watches her focused eyes. I THINK THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE PLS.
And i don’t think this counts as an ask, but if you’ll want to do something with this im not complainig hahah 👁👁
Warning: Fluff, mention of injuries, age difference (implied but not mentioned), Leon!Vendetta, Leon gets taken care of (this man needs a little love and devotion); talking about nothing.
I'm sorry, I'm too lazy. I write slowly and because of some eternally tired condition
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Coming back to you after so many weeks of silence was wrong, or at least unfair. To tell the truth, Leon did not feel that he should have done it at all, the doctor recommended bed rest, but it was all the same. It was not the first time he had been thrown like a rag doll, although this time he felt like he was on the edge, dangerously balancing between life and death, when Aris's claws almost pierced his flesh. At least Leon thought he was going to die thinking about you- the only good thing in his life in recent years.
He wasn't even sure if you would let him in, but when he broke out of the dark tunnel, the whole flight he thought only about how nice it was to return to the person who, for some reason, cared about him. You weren't his wife, you weren't his work partner, you were just a girl. The girl he was afraid to fall in love with because he always thought that this love would hurt you. Although it seems that only one was injured, and it was Leon himself, who came up with stupid rules for himself to protect you.
And here he is, you look at him without any malice, although it would be worth it. Leon really doesn't think he has the right to show up like this without an invitation, but he does, looking into your eyes with a guilty look, hoping that you won't drive him away and let him lick his wounds while he lets you love him tenderly.
"Come in," you nod head, letting him into your tiny apartment, in which Leon felt better than at home.
Although it looked more like a lone wolf's lair. It was much more comfortable and even somehow warmer with you.
Taking a step, Leon feels not like a government dog, but an ordinary person who is taken by the hand and let into a small corner of paradise. Maybe it will last a day, two or a week, but he will be a little happy and loved.
"Should I heat up your dinner?" You ask casually, as if he wasn't ignoring you and running away to drown his problems in alcohol. "Leon?"
"No, I'm not hungry."
"Coffee?" Again you offer him, but he just shakes his head negatively as he sits down on the chair in front of you.
"No"
Maybe you think he came here to end all the little things that were between you, but no. He just needs you as a salvation, otherwise his head will drown in regret.
All Leon wants is for his fight not to be in vain, but every time someone else takes the place of the bad guy, and corporations continue to create viruses that turn people into bioweapons. He runs his hand over his face, feeling the annoying stubble under his palm that should have been shaved off, but having drowned in alcohol, he didn’t want to do anything.
“I just,” he looks at you with a hazy look but completely sober, “Can I stay here? With you?”
Who are you to refuse him? But be honest with yourself, you want him to stay here, especially since his beaten appearance really said that he was better off not being alone. Under the T-shirt, bruises and abrasions on the face and arms and what appears to be a dislocated shoulder are visible. In any case, wanted to believe that Leon didn’t break any bones.
"You know that my answer is yes"
Leon doesn't smile. Just eternally grateful that he won't have to sit in his dark, lonely apartment lying on his bed again after taking a strong painkiller.
He sleeps well with you, he doesn't have nightmares, and he's just comfortable here. You can turn on the TV, watch an old movie with you and lie quietly, knowing that he will not be called anywhere until he recovers. There was work left in New York for B.S.A.A and TerraSave, but not for him, besides, he didn't take a shower before coming to you, fortunately you had some of his things, including a spare toothbrush and a new disposable razor.
And that was the problem. The problem with his shoulder, which you kept looking at without stopping, as if he had grown a third arm.
“Working moments,” Leon muttered, feeling that he really wouldn’t refuse your dinner. “Can I ask you something else?"
“Yeah, sure.” You really never refused him.
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Arias threw him against the wall, clearly sparing no effort, but thanks to the adrenaline, Leon didn’t feel much pain and was able to maneuver and attack this crazy bastard. The truth is that falling from a motorcycle does not benefit his body, which is why when everything calmed down, Leon realized that it was simply difficult for him to pick up the very razor that was now in your hands and do such a simple job as shaving.
“Just stay still, or better yet, sit down,” you said loudly, seeing that Leon didn’t like the touch on his neck when you tried to cover him with shaving foam.
It was already like instinct when they touched his neck. Leon immediately jerked to the side when he felt someone else's palm on his skin, as if the touch caused him pain. He never talked about how often he was grabbed by the throat, but from his reaction one could guess that this was a sensitive area that he did not like to trust to anyone but himself.
“I can’t shave you if you twitch like a little kid who doesn’t want to wash his face,” you joked, using your finger to spread the shaving foam you had on your hand onto the tip of his nose.
"Just...a reflex"
You thought about it, biting your lip, but Leon just exhaled, gathering his strength, knowing that you weren't going to kill him. He trusted you, so he calmly sat down on a small chair, putting his hands on your waist, trying to relax.
You saw how tense his muscles were, as if at any moment he was ready to make a jerk, his fingers squeezed the fabric of your tank top while you distributed foam over his face, trying not to overuse the product at the site of his abrasions that have not yet healed. When that was done, the razor in your hands gently touched the skin of his neck and gently shaved off excess hair from his face with smooth movements against the coarse hairs.
Carefully avoiding all the cuts, you managed not to hurt him. Step by step, you constantly rinsed the razor to remove all the hairs from it and walk it over the places where the stubble still remained. The most difficult thing for Leon was his neck - he felt too exposed and vulnerable, but when it was over and you moved to another zone, it seemed to you that he even exhaled.
In the end, getting carried away with the case, you didn't even notice how Leon was gradually able to relax and carefully watched your movements, finding you charming when you are so focused only on him. Maybe it's a little selfish, but for him you look so beautiful that he thinks about asking you to shave him again in a week when the stubble grows back, just to watch you take care of him again.
It took you a few minutes to catch his eye when you were completely done. The blue eyes stared at you with such attention that for a second you might have thought that something interesting was written on your face since he was looking at you like that. It's a little awkward and you look at him in response, stupidly blinking your eyes when you wipe his face with a towel, which makes a smile bloom on your lips and you look away.
"What's funny?"
To be honest, there really wasn't anything funny, it was just embarrassing for you.
"Did you leave me something like a mustache?" He joked and you burst out laughing
"Good idea! I'll do it next time."
Leon chuckled, because as a temporary joke, you could do that. That's just the accumulated fatigue that fell like a heavy boulder on him did not allow him to rejoice as much as you do.
"You're obviously going to amuse Chris," He sighed. You threw the razor into the sink and froze for a moment when you felt his head pressed against your stomach, relaxing in layers as you run your fingers through his hair "Thank you"
"No problem," you kissed the top of his head, helping him stand up, noticing how he hisses from the pain in his back when he straightens up.
"Fuck." Leon hisses in pain, catching his breath, realizing that maybe he should drink more painkillers and let a loved one take care of him. "I think I'm catching up with my age"
"Maybe. But I think you should rest and follow the doctor's recommendations at least until you stop needing painkillers."
"Until the next mission, you mean?"
You didn't say anything because you didn't know much about his work. After laying Leon on the bed, he finally exhaled with relief after looking at you with secret gratitude. Literally the only person who gives him warmth and comfort, and maybe he should come to you instead of washing down his bitterness in a bar. Thinking about it, Leon even thought that if he had stayed with you, he would not be suffering from his injuries now, however… What would have happened to Chris and Rebecca? But it's too late to regret what happened. He's alive and he's with you now. He lies in your bed listening to the usual chatter while the TV is on in the background and you settle down next to him bringing an extra blanket and pillow.
In the end, you just plopped down next to him, thoughtfully looking at the picture on the TV, pulling the blanket over yourself. Leon moved a little closer to you, hugging you around the waist, nuzzling your cheek, covering his eyes from fatigue. Of course you knew that he works for the government, but never what he does specifically. You saw the "DSO" marking on his gun, but you were afraid to ask him about it, although the fact that Leon has the right to carry and store weapons freely already hinted that he does not work in some average position and his injuries… one is worse than the other.
It is difficult to unravel the thoughts of this person, especially when he is completely immersed in himself. You know that he has some problems with alcohol and a couple of times you even quarreled about it, after which Leon always apologized by coming to you with flowers and other gifts. You turn off the light in the room, turning to him, meeting the tired gaze of blue eyes.
"Thank you. I rarely say this, but I'm grateful for everything you do for me."
"I know."
"Maybe you should find a better guy than me, but" he snuggled even closer and there was fear in his words, as if you could make him leave right now, "but I want to be with you. I can't lead a normal life, but being here with you feels like I'm becoming normal. Who he was before September 30, 1998"
"And what happened on September 30th?" you ask, putting your hand on his palm, smiling, and immediately see how noticeably even in the dark his face changes, becoming more gloomy.
"My first day working as a cop. I overslept and was late for my first day at work"
He could have said a lot and revealed his soul to you without fear if he hadn't been bound by the government. Raccoon City is classified information, and even no matter how much he values you, you shouldn't know anything about it. Fortunately, you do not pry into the truth, leaving his personal border untouched, and for this Leon is infinitely grateful. Maybe in a couple of weeks, when his injuries stop being so painful and his condition improves, he'll even laugh at what kind of mustache you made for him while shaving him again. He will really be happy and he will not need alcohol in this.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
Text
Academic Rivals
michael gavey x reader
summary: a partner project in the library leads to heightened emotions
A/N: a request from my dearest belie boo! hope you enjoy @valeskafics !!
TW: smut!, semi-public sex, degradation, hate-fucking, misogyny, michael is a little perv actually
word count: 1,788 words
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You despise Michael Gavey. The smug bastard sits right next to you in history and the two of you constantly compete for top of the class. You’ll be the first one to admit that he’d have you beat in any math class but history is yours. The worst part of it is that your professor encourages the rivalry, insisting that it’s ‘healthy competition’. Which is why you’re currently (very apprehensively) making your way to the library to work on your partnered essay with Michael.
You don’t want to make it easy on him though so you strut in, ten minutes late with an iced coffee in your hand. You’re dressed in a sweater and a very short plaid skirt with black thigh highs that just reach under the hem of it. His eyes glance over you almost too quickly, like he’s trying to avoid your gaze.
“You’re late.” He says while looking at his notes.
“This part of the library wasn’t easy to find.” You look around and there isn’t a single person in your line of sight. “Maybe that’s why it’s so dead in here.”
He scoffs. “Or perhaps you’re late because you stopped to get overpriced coffee on the way. Whatever you’re drinking is more sugar than coffee anyhow.”
“So hateful today.” I tease.
“If you spent more time focusing on punctuality then I wouldn’t need to be.” He says pompously. “Get out your notes. I need your contributions for the analysis of economics during the 18th century.”
“In a moment.” You say as you pull out your compact mirror instead of your notes so you can check your hair. You don’t particularly care how it looks at the moment but you know your primping will piss him off.
“Did you even do your research or were you too focused with your own vanity to get the work done?” He asks in a snarky tone and your eyes dart up to meet his.
“Just because I enjoy putting an effort into looking good doesn’t mean i’m an airhead. Of course I did my research.” You say with a roll of your pretty eyes. Michael thinks you look particularly pretty when you’re angry.
“How should I have known any different? You spend more time worrying about getting attention than your studies. It’s pathetic really. You have so much potential, yet you let your feminine interests dominate you.” He says with a mock look of pity.
“Oh you poor thing. If my ‘feminine interests’ seem to dominate my life then why do I have the highest mark in our class? Shouldn’t you have the highest mark if you dedicate all your time to your studies?” You give him a sweet little smile and he is mortified at the way it makes his cock harden.
“History is hardly my top priority when i’m in much more academically challenging classes and I was top of the class last week so it won’t be long before I overtake you again anyhow.” He tries to act nonchalant but you can tell your words got to him.
“It’s probably difficult for you to do as well as you could when you spend most of the class staring at me.” You say and feel a sense of accomplishment when his cheeks turn crimson red.
“I only look at you because you spend all class talking and giving your half-brained takes on the French Revolution.” He retorts but his words are a little clumsy.
“Then why are you blushing?” 
“It’s hot in here.” He says firmly.
“It is a little hot in here.” Your tone is casual but he can sense the mischief in your voice. His eyes widen as you shrug off your sweater to reveal a tight, white camisole underneath and because it isn’t really that warm in the library, your nipples harden under the garment and they poke through the fabric. “Something wrong, Michael?” You ask sweetly, noticing how his eyes are glued to your perky tits.
“No, of course not.” He answers too quickly and you smirk at him.
You stand up and walk over to his side of the table and sit on it right next to him, so your thigh could almost brush his arm. He can now clearly see the lacy hem off your stockings. “You’re so flustered. It’s pathetic.” You say a little cruelly and he stands abruptly, his chair almost tipping back.
“You’re a bitch.” He spits back at you.
“That’s no way to speak to a woman, Gavey. What would your mother think?”
He just glares at you for a moment and you can’t tell if it’s hate or lust burning in his eyes. You realize quickly that it’s the latter when he grips the back of your hair and forces your mouth to his. Michael presses himself against you and you can feel how painfully hard he is in his trousers as he kisses you roughly. You hate to say that you kiss back, enjoying how sloppy and inexperienced he is, although full of emotion.
He parts his mouth from yours but stays slotted between your thighs. He looks almost nervous, like he half expects you to slap him and leave. He’s fucking delighted when you roll your hips gently against his instead. The math nerd has never touched a woman before but he’s more than ready to grasp the opportunity. He slips both his hands right up your top and groans when he feels your soft tits. He massages them and you whine, lifting your shirt for him so he can see exactly what he’s doing.
“Oh, God.” He murmurs as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.
“Have you ever been within two feet of a woman?” You ask him with a cruel little smirk but then you squeak as he pinches your nipple hard. “Ow! Fuck, Michael.” You whine.
“You fucking slut.” He murmurs and you can’t tell if it’s a term of endearment or just plain old misogyny. “Always have some bratty little remark to say.”
Your eyes glaze over a little and you pout at the way he looks at you. You would never think that a virgin could act so dominant.
He looks like he’s fighting some conflict in his mind before he speaks. “Now, you’re going to take your underwear off and bend over the table… then i’m going to fuck you.” He says it like it’s a command but it’s almost as if he’s trying to breathe a dream into reality. When you obey him, his eyes widen and he begins to make quick work on the removal of his belt. He can hardly believe that a woman as hot as you just listened to him, that a woman who seems to despise him with every inch of her being has just bent over a table, waiting to be fucked by him.
He lifts up your skirt, feeling more bricked than he’s ever been as he rubs his hand over your ass. He gives a firm slap to your right cheek just to see how you’d react and he’s pleased when you whimper. Michael runs his fingers through your folds as he finally releases his cock from his pants. He pumps himself as he rubs you, enjoying how wet you are, knowing it means you like it.
“Jesus, Michael, are you gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?” You barely manage to get the question out when he decides to slam himself, balls deep, inside of you. You whine out as you try to get used to how big he is. You really didn’t expect him to be so hung.
All he can do is think to himself, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum. As he tries to block out the sound of your voice so he doesn’t spill himself inside you prematurely.
“Michael…” You whimper out, not even knowing why you’re saying his name.
“Shut the fuck up.” He murmurs before beginning to move himself in and out of you. “Little fucking brat, thinking you’re smarter than me.” He starts to thrust harder. “I’m the smartest person in this entire fucking school.”
His cock is slamming in and out of you at this point and all you can do is let out little moans from how roughly he’s treating you.
“Say it. Say i’m the smartest person in the school.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” You manage to groan out from under him.
He grins. “That’s my job.” Michael may have never had sex before this but he sure as hell knows how the woman’s body works. So, his fingers snake around your front so he can roll your clit between his fingers. You let out a strangled gasp. “Say it. Now.”
“You’re the… smartest… person… in the school.” He punctuates your words with his thrusts as his hips slam against yours, making you stutter at every other word.
“Good girl.” He says smugly.
You give him no warning when you cum and the way your pussy squeezes and convulses around his cock almost makes him fall to his knees and pray to God in thanks. He cums instantly after you, not having the self control to hold it back anymore and not having the will to pull out as he spills deep inside of you.
He now fully contextualizes the fact that, no matter if it’s a deserted section, the two of you are still in the library. He pulls himself out quickly and you whine at the abruptness of it all as he swiftly begins to clothe himself.
“Get dressed!” He urges but you can hardly do more than lie there after being fucked so hard.
You move slowly as you pull up your panties and fix your skirt and top, your thigh-highs looking rumpled.
“We’re going to be expelled!” He panics as he kneels down to straighten up your thigh-highs for you.
“Nobody saw and there’s no cameras in here.” You say as you manage to pull yourself together enough to roll your eyes.
“T-This is your fault!” He exclaims.
Post-nut spiralling i guess.
“My fault?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Yes, it's your fault! You seduced me!” He gets his things together, his face one shade off of a tomato.
“Then it won’t happen again.” You say simply. His face drops.
“Whatever.” He seems to have calmed down a bit, slightly irritated by your words.
You sigh and decide that it’s best to leave while you’re ahead.
“Goodbye, Michael.” You say in a sing-songy tone as you strut away, now leaving him as the dazed one.
“B-But we didn’t start the essay!” Is all he can get out before you turn around the corner and out of his sight.
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
Text
No Need To Ask
Chapter Seven - No Weaknesses
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
1.7K words
Because of how I've made the character of Carlos' mother, I didn't want to use her real name. That is why she is called Mrs Sainz (or Señora sainz)
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Oscar had his own room in Carlos’ house. He had yet to actually sleep in it though.
So far, Oscar had just used his room to store his clothes and to get changed. The bed was perfectly made from where he hadn’t yet slept in it. When Y/N found this out, she assumed it was unintentional, that he just fell asleep while he was watching over her.
And that was partially true. Oscar did fall asleep while he was protecting her. But he allowed himself to. he let himself fall asleep while he was in Y/N’s room. Carlos had brought it up to her over a game of chess, he knew, and had told her that he had men stationed outside of her room.
Well, that didn’t help to comfort her. It didn’t comfort Oscar, either. On the rare instance that he left Y/N’s room (which would only be for twenty minutes, at most) he made sure to level Carlos’ men with a piercing stare.
After two weeks of being in Carlos’ house, a week after Lando had flown home, Y/N had an unexpected visitor at her bedroom door. She’d knocked before with Carlos and Oscar had answered the door then. The stare she gave him was more terrifying that anything Carlos had done to him, and Oscar found himself stepping to the side. “Good choice,” Carlos mumbled as he walked past him.
This time, Carlos’ mother came alone. Oscar didn’t know how to address the woman, so he just stepped to the side and let her into the room.
“Who is it, Osc?” Asked Y/N when she didn’t hear him say anything. Sat at her vanity, she had a book open in front of her. It was one she had brought with her from the UK.
Mrs Sainz cleared her throat. That was how she was known in the family, just as those who worked for the Norris family called Y/N’s mother Mrs Norris when she was alive. Y/N looked up at the mirror. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Carlos’ mother.
Suddenly Y/N was on her feet. “Mrs Sainz!” She said, in way of greeting. Mrs Sainz didn’t smile when she looked at her.
“We have work to do before the wedding,” she said, hands clasped together. “You are spending the day with me.”
Y/N nodded her head. “Come,” said Mrs Sainz. She turned on her heel and strode out of the room, leaving Y/N to follow her. Oscar went to follow as well, but Mrs Sainz gave him a look and he stopped. She kept staring at him until he retreated back into the room.
“He follows you around like a dog,” Mrs Sainz spat as she led Y/N through the house.
“He means well,” Y/N replied. “He’s just doing as Lando asked him.”
Mrs Sainz made a noise of disapproval as she went down the stairs. She didn’t say more on the matter as she took Y/N into a room that could only have been called the parlour.
The chairs in the parlour were covered with white dresses. Wedding dresses, Y/N realised as she looked at all of them. In the middle of the room was a seamstress, setting up her things. "Today we are going to find you a dress," said Mrs Sainz.
"But I already have a dress," Y/N said, somewhat timidly.
Mrs Sainz made that same disapproving noise. "Not good enough for my son," she muttered and walked over to the first dress, picking it up.
Y/N had never been to a Mafia wedding before. They'd happened in her lifetime, sure, but she'd never been. She didn't know what to expect on her own wedding day. She knew she'd have very little control over the wedding, but she thought she'd be able to control the dress.
Suddenly Y/N began welling up. She sank to her knees and let the tears flow freely. "Enough of that, stupid girl," said Mrs Sainz as Y/N continued to cry.
But she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop the sobs as she furiously wiped under her eyes. Her breathing was becoming difficult as she pulled her legs closer to her chest.
Arms grabbed her own and Y/N was forcibly pulled to her feet. "Oh, estúpida y estúpida!" Shouted Mrs Sainz. Her hand was raised and, for a moment, Y/N thought she was going to slap her. "You are going to be a part of the Sainz family! You can't be seen showing weakness!"
Y/N wiped away her tears and tried to suppress her sobs. Mrs Sainz grabbed a hold of the nearest dress and passed it to Y/N. She gave her no choice in the matter, making her try on every single one.
None of the dresses were close to the dress Y/N had chosen for herself.  When Y/N tried to voice her opinions on the dresses, Mrs Sainz would quickly shut her up and turn her attention to the seamstress. The women spoke in Spanish, leaving Y/N standing there without an inkling as to what was going on.
Mrs Sainz had her wearing every single dress. If she gave her opinions, they were in Spanish. The seamstress worked on every dress she tried on, often times poking Y/N with the sharp needles. If she expressed pain, Mrs Sainz would sharply shut her up. Whicher dress was her favourite, Y/N wasn’t sure. After Y/N had tried them all on Mrs Sainz pushed her out of the room, shutting the door in her face so that she could discuss things with the seamstress alone.
As soon as Y/N was out of the room, she leaned against the nearest wall and let out a breath. She’d been poked so many times with a needle she didn’t know how she wasn’t bleeding. She threw her head back and shut her eyes, savouring the moment alone.
Y/N pushed away from the wall and walked down the corridor. She just wanted to get back to her room and sleep until tomorrow.  
As Y/N walked past the doors that led out to the patio, Y/N stopped. She couldn’t help but watch him as he swam in the pool, wet hair pushed back on his head and his tanned skin glistening. She didn’t know what it was, but something compelled her to walk forwards, to push open the doors and step out onto the patio.
Carlos stopped swimming. He rested his arms on the pool ledge. Neither of them said anything, Y/N waiting for Carlos to say something and Y/N not sure what to say.
As soon as she stepped outside, Y/N went to turn back around. “Wait,” came Carlos’ voice, stopping her in her tracks. “Stay.”
Y/N did just that. She pulled off her shoes and socks and sat on the pool ledge, her feet in the water. Still, they didn’t say anything. Y/N watched him as he went back to swimming, doing laps up and down the pool.
Was this what the rest of her life was going to be? Sitting there quietly while Carlos did what he wanted? That wasn’t the life her mother lived and it wasn’t the life Mrs Sainz lived.
Y/N played with the skin around her nails, in her peripheral vision she watched as Carlos pulled himself out of the pool, muscles visible to whoever might have been watching (aka, Y/N). She kept her legs in the water as Carlos walked behind her and grabbed his towel.
“Can I ask you something?” Asked Y/N in a moment of bravery.
“Of course,” said Carlos as he sat and used the towel to dry his hair.
Y/N sucked in a breath. Brave. She needed to be brave. “I… What’s expected of me?” She asked. “When I am your wife, what is expected of me?”
Carlos looked across the patio at her. His towel was around his shoulders, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Carlos had taken time to think about it since his father told him of the marriage, since it was purely to benefit the families. There were a few things expected of every mafia wife. She was expected to stand by her husband’s side and give him children. Whether this went to the point that it did with Y/N’s mother, where she was as in charge as her husband was, that was yet to be seen.
“Once we are married, we are to have children,” he answered.
“Oh,” Y/N mumbled before he could continue with his listed. She hadn’t thought about this, hadn’t thought about having his children. Maybe Y/N didn’t realise that this was a part of a mafia wife’s life. She had never had sex before, and the thought was giving her enough anxiety already. But, you throw children into the mix? That was a whole different kettle of fish.
Carlos continued. “You will no longer be loyal to the Norris family and your loyalties will lie with me.”
Y/N knew this bit. She had been mentally preparing herself for this, for when she was to say goodbye to the family she had grown up in. “Will I get to visit my brother?” She asked and kicked her legs slowly, moving them through the water.
He took his time answering this one. With the declining health of Norris, it was something he and his father had been discussing. As Carlos had said at the dinner in the Norris, he was happy for Y/N to go home for her father’s funeral for a week or two. Of course, he was going to have to send one of two of his men with her, to make sure she stayed safe and didn’t… slip up.
“Yes,” Carlos answered. “You will join me on… business trips. Your brother will be attending this business trips and that is when you will see him,” he said.
“What about my father?”
“We will discuss this when the time comes,” he said.
“But-”
“When the time comes,” Carlos said and stood from his seat. With his towel still around his shoulders he walked into his house, pulling the doors shut behind him.
Y/N stayed in the pool, hot sun beating down on her. But Y/N didn’t care. She looked down in the water, at the colourful tiles at the bottom of the pool. If she wasn’t already terrified for the life of a Mafia wife, she was now.
Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane
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audisive · 6 days
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♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.
tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)
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        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.
That's the first thing you see.
There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.
Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.
When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.
Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.
"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.
"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."
  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 
Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.
You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.
His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.
  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 
"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."
Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.
He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.
He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.
He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.
It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.
He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.
Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.
Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."
"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.
(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)
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        divider by @cafekitsune !
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iiseor · 7 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ Lights | part 1
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Summary: dating ellie was a battle. That is, until the night she cheats on you. Leading new doors, and cigarette packages to open.
cw: toxic!ellie, biker!abby, fem reader, cursing, cheating, smoking, mentions of the reader having curly hair. second repost on new account
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You and ellie had been together for a few months.
At first, It started off as just fuck buddies. but you felt like things were always different between you two, compared to her other hook ups.
After a while, you expressed your liking to her, surprisingly leading to her asking you out officially—something she hadn’t done with a girl since first starting college.
You were ecstatic, you thought this was the start of her settling down.
And honestly, everything was perfect at first. You were together 24/7, basically inseparable.
But after a month, The relationship was…rough for the most part.
You quickly realized how hard It was to not be jealous when it came to Ellie, as she always had someone all over it. She swore that she was loyal to you now, never letting you stay mad at her for more than a day before finding a way to make it up to you.
Despite this, deep down, you always knew it wouldn’t last. You knew she wasn’t made for relationships, and you could tell she started getting bored when you wanted to spend more time together. but you were so deeply in love with her, it was impossible to let go.
-
The day was long, you had classes all morning and by the time you got home it was already 5pm.
You laid down on your bed, opening your phone, slightly hoping Ellie wouldve text you.
-
Three unread messages
3:55pm
Dina
Why aren’t you answering my callssss
4:30pm
Dina
I’ll be at your house at 6:30, be ready or I’ll kill You
4:40pm
Dina
IM SERIOUS Y/N
-
You sighed placing your phone down and walking over to your vanity to get ready.
The night before, you had gotten into pretty…heated argument with Ellie.
Nothing new.
-
“I wasn’t flirting with anyone, you’re crazy” she said.
“Ellie, can you fucking listen to me for once?” You yelled
“Listen to what??? You’re saying nothing important, just making assumptions” she scoffed, sitting down on her couch.
You sighed, trying not to become even more frustrated with her was impossible
“I literally watched you flirt with her el, stop acting stupid” you say
“You saw nothing, that’s how I talk to everyone” she replied, lighting a joint and completely ignoring you pacing around her living room
“Yea right, do you stroke the hair of ur female teachers when they talk to you? Or your co workers? Do you think im stupid” You rambled on, your eyes pleading for hers to look over at you.
“I think you’re dramatic, it’s not like I fucked her in front of you” she said, laughing at you as you started picking up your stuff.
Your eyes widened, god she was a bitch.
“Whatever el, why don’t you go fuck her then yea? Since you can’t go one second without swooning over another girl” you replied again, picking up your things and leaving.
And that’s what she did.
-
The night you left her house, everything felt blurry. All you can remember is yelling at Ellie, causing you to go over to Dina’s dorm distraught. As much as Dina hates yours and Ellies relationship, she knew telling you to break up with her wasn’t the way to go, even if she did, you’d never listen. So instead, she made you promise to go out with her the next night, to get your mind off things.
-
“Are you almost ready??” Dina shouted, banging on your door.
The night was cold, your head was still pounding from all the yelling and crying last night, but you never broke a promise—so going out was your only choice.
“Yes gosh d holdon” you answered, getting up from your vanity to open the door for Dina.
“Woah…” she said, walking inside.
this was the most you had spent on your appearance in weeks, between constant fights with Ellie and heavy class work—you simply never found the time.
Tonight was different, you wore a black lace dress, with heavy eye makeup and red lipgloss.
“Well, are you ready to go?” You asked as dina kept staring at you
“Yea..but are you sure you wanna wear that? You look great, but what it Ellie is there? I bet she’d be pissed if you went out like this” she replied.
“Who cares” you said, picking up your purse and leading her out of the door.
As much as you loved when Ellie was protective…you truly couldn’t care tonight. her feelings were the last thing to matter.
-
The moment you walked into the party, you spotted Ellie. Her hands gripping the waist of the same girl she swore she wasn’t flirting with, the girl sliding her hand up and down Ellie’s leg.
Fucking bitch. You thought to yourself.
Even though you didn’t want to say it outloud—Your heart wasnt broken. Not in the way your friends thought it would’ve been at least. You were just irritated, confused at most.
As Dina lead you to the couch, you pulled back, letting go of her hand.
“What’s wrong?” She said, glancing over to where you were looking.
“Oh shit” she said, sighing.
“You go, have fun Dina, I’ll be fine” you let out, not giving her a chance to reply.
-
You stumbled out of the house, your mind racing as you pushed through the crowd.
You couldn’t fully grasp what had happened, all you could think about was getting out of there.
You never felt so annoyed before. You knew Ellie was a player, but why did she have to lie? Why would she ask you out in the first place, pretend to be loyal if she wasn’t ? She rejected girls before, so what was the point of it all?
Your head pounded at the amount of questions running through it.
When you got out of the house, you turned the corner, squatting down against the wall and rubbing your hands over your head.
-
“Everything okay?” a raspy voice asked
Your heart jumped, looking up to view the tall girl.
Abby.
-
You and Abby never spoke before, but you’d seen her around. It was hard not to, considering how tall and attractive she was.
Abby…the most you knew about her was that she was like, the exact opposite of Ellie, and that she road a cool ass motorcycle.
Despite having girls all over her, Abby was never seen with any of them. Using her time to focus on biking and school.
-
“Want to take a picture?” She laughed, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
“no, sorry” you said as you stood up, not realizing how long you had been starting up at her.
“No everything’s not okay, or no you don’t want my autograph?” She teased.
“Neither” you replied, your eyes never leaving her face.
She smirked.
“Wanna talk about it?” She asked.
“No” you replied quick, forgetting why you had even came out there, why you weren’t inside cursing at Ellie.
You watched as abby lifted the cigarette to her lips before pulling out a lighter, pieces of her hair falling out from behind and blowing across her face.
She turned to look at you, your faces being lit only by the dim house side light.
“Do you have anymore?” You asked.
She smiled again, this time allowing you to see her full face.
“of course” she replied, pulling out another cigarette from the box and handing it to you.
She watched as you twirled the cigarette in your hand, observing it for a moment before placing it in your mouth.
As she watched you, she laughed once again, not being able to hide it this time.
You looked at her with concern, the cigarette hanging out of your mouth.
“You don’t smoke, do you?” she questioned.
You took the cigarette out of your mouth slowly, confused at her question.
“Why do you think that?” You replied.
Before you knew it, she was standing directly in front of you. One hand leaning on the wall beside your waist, the other taking the cigarette out of yours.
She flipped the cigarette over, placing it back onto your lips and pushing your hair back—your curls blowing throughout the wind.
She leaned in closer, throwing her used cigarette on the ground and picking up the lighter from her pocket.
She lit the cigarette in your mouth, letting it sit for a moment before taking it, and then placing it in hers.
Abby didn’t break eye contact with you once, not until she turned away from you to exhale, your eyes still memorized by her moves.
She looked back over at you, her tone turning quieter, not much above a whisper.
“The orange part goes in your mouth sweetheart, you light the white part” she finally answered through a laugh, stroking your hair again. the same way ellie stroked that girls hair.
You laughed nervously, abby moving back to lean on the wall.
As you watched her closely, Every thought you had of Ellie slowly slipped your mind.
Maybe her leaving you would open new doors.
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Paint Job (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
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Summary: In which Buggy indulges his two favorite hobbies: doing your makeup and driving you crazy. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~1k. Warnings: Pregnancy. A/N: my birthday was yesterday so i wrote this for myself
Your belly button popped out. He had no idea until you stripped your clothes off for a nap and fell asleep cradled in that dumb pregnancy pillow you use instead of cuddling with him.
He squints at it. It looks funny. Round. Sticks out. Kinda like...
...hmm.
The intrusive thought hits him like a fish jumping out of the water and into a boat.
You'd look so cute and he'd get to show off his artistic talent. Not to mention that everyone would know whose baby is in your belly. Not that there's any doubt, of course, but he has to mark his territory somehow and he suspects that you wouldn't appreciate being peed on.
(The obvious answer of putting some jewelry on those naked ring fingers of yours has occurred to him many times, but that thought is somehow scarier than fatherhood. So he ignores it.)
Grabbing his bag of tricks from the vanity, he tiptoes to the bed. He sets himself down slowly, gently, carefully. The bed squeaks as he eases his weight onto it, but you don't stir.
He works quickly. First some white greasepaint, squeezed onto his wrist and dabbed onto your belly with a makeup sponge. Follow that with a bit of black paint, applied with a careful stroke of the brush. Then pigment sticks for the detail work and outlines...
The baby seems to enjoy it. It occasionally moves in response to his touch. Nothing herky jerky -- just little shifts and nudges. Makes his heart melt. He can't wait to meet the little rugrat.
And now the piece de résistance, a dab of red right on the mound of your navel.
Et voilà. Perfection.
He leans back to marvel at his artistry as he wipes the extra makeup from his hand. In another life, he'd have made a damn good painter. Hell, maybe he should invest in some acrylics and canvas. Start a money laundering scheme.
Buggy notices that your eyes are open. Two little windows into a warm, dark abyss. The same color as falling asleep in a cozy bed on a cold, dark night.
“Having fun?” you ask.
“Tons,” he says coolly. “How was the snooze?”
“Great, ‘til your kid started tap dancing on my bladder.” You lean back on your elbows as you stretch your legs out, splaying your toes out like Richie does after he wakes up from a nap. Your belly rests on your thighs now. Try as you might, you can't see over the top. “What were you doing?”
He hops off the bed and offers you his arm, easing you to your feet. He guides you to his vanity with a hand on your waist. Your gait has gained a wobble and, while he's never seen anything hotter, being on a constantly rocking ship makes him nervous.
Your eyes go wide when you see his Jolly Roger painted across your stomach, your belly button forming the nose. You twist this way and that, your smile growing with each shift.
He rests his head against yours. “So everyone knows just who put you up the pole,” he murmurs.
“As if there's any question with how handsy you are,” you snort. You turn that warm smile to him. “Love it, Bugs.”
He didn't think you'd be upset, not really, but hearing you happy eases his nerves greatly. “I decided to take an impressionist approach,” he says. “You can tell from the brush strokes and my liberal use of white.”
You were right, that night you first spent together: you laugh like a gaggle of News Coos. Clattery, loud, inelegant. It's his third favorite sound in the world. The second is that snort you make when you're trying not to laugh, and the first is... Well, his pursuit of that sound is what led to your current condition.
He pushes the gag a little further. “Made it during my Alabastan Period, where I was influenced by--” You push your lips against his. He keeps talking, just to annoy you. “--traditional geometric patterns of nomadic--”
You grab his cheeks and shove your tongue in his mouth. Once he's runs out of breath, you pull away with a big red splotch across your smile. “Shut up,” you say.
“Never.” He moves behind you. He pops his hands off to lace his fingers underneath your belly as he drapes his arms around your shoulders. "How's that?"
You sigh in relief as the weight is lifted off your organs, your spine, everything. "Fucking hell, thank you," you breathe.
He makes a mental note to thank the old ex-con who told him the trick. Surefire way to make your old lady love you forever, she'd said, grinning at her husband. How else you think I ended up with having six kids with this knucklehead?
The thought of six little humans running around fills him with dread... but at the same time, everyone loves a family act. Matching threads for everyone, him in his best and you all dolled up like a work of art. Suits for the boys and little tutus for the girls.
Six little faces looking up at him in adoration, six little creatures to do his bidding, six little people guaranteed to worship the ground he walks on...
You snap your fingers in front of him. "Hey. Clown."
That's enough to bring him back to earth. He hopes to every god that will listen that it's just one in there. "Just distracted by your beauty," he says.
You give him a dry look. "Liar."
"Alright, ya got me. I was thinking about your tits." Buggy rests his chin in the crook of your neck. “How much longer?”
You reach up to pat his cheek. “Couple months.”
He groans. “But I wanna meet Buggy Junior noooow-wuh,” he whines.
Your smile vanishes. “Over my dead body you name my kid that.”
“Why not? It's a great name. Buggy Balthazar Zebulon Xerxes Mixolydian Macadamia--” You pinch his lips shut with your fingers, but he keeps talking. “--Jeremiah Jubilee--”
You turn and shove your tongue in his mouth again. He shuts up for good this time.
---
To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar
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inuiiwonderland · 11 months
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Hate that I still love you
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Even after the breakup, you are still madly in love with him. But he has someone else now. He loves her...maybe even more than you.
-
Small cries could be heard in the room as you tried your very best to not wake up grim. You continued to cry under the covers as you remembered today's events.
You happily walked the halls of pomefiore as you couldn't wait to meet up with your boyfriend, vil. 
He's been busy the past few weeks, not only with school but also with modeling and his upcoming new movie. So after weeks of not being able to hang out with each other, you couldn't help but grow excited when he texted you to come over to his dorm.
Finally making it to his room, you knocked and patiently waited for a response. 
Hearing a "come in", you excitedly opened the door and walked in to see your lovely boyfriend sitting down on his vanity. 
"Hi vil" You said as you closed the door and walked towards him. You sat down on his bed as you looked at him through his vanity mirror. He couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt when he saw you look at him with hearts in your eyes through the mirror.
"Y/n"
"Yes?" He sighs which made you frown.
"Everything alright vil?" He gets up from his chair and turns to face you. You looked up at him and grew confused as he looked away.
"I have something…important to tell you" Your brows furrowed as you waited for him to continue.
"What is it?"
"I don't think this is working out" 
"Huh? What do you mean" 
You were hoping and praying that what you think was going to come out of his mouth doesn't come out of his mouth as you nervously waited for his answer.
"Us. I don't think I can do this anymore" You felt as if your whole world stopped. You looked at him with glossy eyes as you tried your best not to cry in front of him.
"I- did I do something wrong?" Your voice was shaky and weak. You still couldn't believe what he said. 
He stayed quiet for a moment which made your heart ache. 
"No, you did nothing wrong. It's just…my life has been getting pretty busy and I think it's for the best..for the both of us" You nodded before getting up from his bed.
"Okay…I hope we can still be friends at least?" He nodded his head and you smiled.
"Alright, well it's getting late so I should go" but before you left you noticed his phone light up by a text notification. Your heart dropped as you saw whose name popped up.
Emi
You quickly walked out his room and hurriedly made your way out of pomefiore. You could feel tears slide down your cheeks as you slowly started connecting the dots together.
So those rumors were true…
Rumors have been spreading around the media about vil and his co-star, emi, being spotted together after shooting their upcoming movie together.
Them being spotted at a coffee shop, talking and laughing together. Being spotted at the mall hand in hand and at first you didn't believe it. You trusted vil and you knew he would never do something like that.
But you guess you were wrong…
You continued walking to ramshackles as you silently cried. 
You were indeed a stupid fool.
Reaching ramshackles, you quickly wiped your tears and went inside as if nothing happened.
Which now brings you here. Crying pathetically in your bed at 1 in the morning. You quietly got up from bed, making sure you didn't wake grim in the process. You quietly made your way out the room and down the hall. 
"Y/n" You stopped and turned around to see one of the ghosts, Otis, looking at you with worry.
"Oh sweet y/n, what happened?" You again felt tears build up as you quickly walked over to him.
"He broke up with me" you sob out as you tried to keep quiet. He gasped and patted your back as you silently cried.
"Oh dear…you don't think the rumors were true do you?" He asked worriedly.
"I-I saw her name! I saw her name pop up on his notification!" All Otis could do was watch as you broke down in the middle of the hall. He tried his best to comfort you as you continued to cry your heart out.
You loved him, you truly did. So why did he do this to you? Was your love not enough?
Maybe you weren't enough. Maybe you didn't try hard enough to be a good girlfriend. Maybe it's your fault this happened.
-
The next day was hell for you. You spent the whole night crying out to Otis and when you finally stopped, you only had a few hours of sleep. 
You sat down on your chair and waited for class to start. 
You cursed yourself as you saw how puffy your eyes were when you woke up this morning. You just hoped no one would notice and point it out.
"Holy shit" You looked up only to see ace looking down at you with wide eyes.
"What happened?"
Great. Someone did notice
You ignored him and turned away to look out the window. 
"Hey don't ignore me"
"It's nothing"
"Oh no it's something. Why are your eyes so puffy? What happened" you sigh as you try your best to ignore him.
"Please don't ignore me. I want to know what happened that made you cry this bad" You looked down at your lap as you tried to not get emotional.
"I-" but before you could say anything you were interrupted by the teacher coming in and announcing that class had started. 
"Don't think I'll forget about this, tell me after class okay?" You just nodded and you both then started paying attention to the class.
-
Class has ended and students started leaving to go to their next class. Once the last few students have left, Ace then turned to face you.
"Ok now tell me what happened" 
"Vil broke up with me"
"What?!" You glared at him and he quickly apologized.
"I'm sorry..but what??! How? Why?" 
"Remember those rumors?"
"About vil and that one chick?"
"Mhm" his eyes widened when he finally got what you were saying.
"No way! Did he?"
"Yeah..I didn't want to believe it at first but now that I saw proof…I just..can't believe he would do something like that"
"Hey, look at me" you looked at Ace and he wiped the tears you didn't notice were sliding down your face.
"Don't cry over that bastard, he made a mistake doing something like that to a wonderful person like you. He doesn't deserve your tears..so don't cry, okay?" You nodded and he smiled.
"Alright, let's go to the next class before we're late" You got up and grabbed your stuff before you two walked out.
-
You knew the others were gonna find out sooner or later about your break up with vil. And when they did, all hell broke loose.
"He what?!" Epel screamed as he looked at you in disbelief.
"Let's not shout epel-"
"No! How would I not shout when I find out my housewarden has been cheating on my best friend?!" 
"I-"
"So those rumors were true?" 
"I never expected such behavior from pomefiore housewarden!"
"Has he lost his mind?!" 
At this point you gave up on trying to keep your friends quiet.
"Please let's just stop talking about this"
"When I see him it's on sight" epel quietly mutters under his breath. Everyone went quiet and looked at you.
"How are you feeling?" Jack says. 
"I'm feeling…fine"
"A-are you sure?" Deuce asked worriedly.
"Yeah, I'm fine"
Totally fine…
But in reality you weren't. 
3 months have passed and you felt like a fool for not moving on. You hate yourself for still loving him. You hate that you think there still might be a chance for the two of you but you know it would never happen.
Because he loves her 
You stared at the screen with shaky hands as you read the article that made your heart drop.
Vil schoenheit and his co-star Emi Collins have finally revealed their relationship to the public!
You couldn't believe it. 2 weeks haven't even passed and he does this? Getting into another relationship just like that?
You felt so stupid 
You gave the phone back to epel and went back upstairs to your room.
And now 3 months have gone by. 3 months of the media going crazy about the new couple.
You couldn't help but scroll through the comments and read every single one of them.
Aw they are so cute!
I knew something was going on between them!
I have been shipping them since their first movie together!
They look perfect together!
Omg the way he looks at her! He's so in love!
That specific comment was what made you turn off your phone and stare up at the ceiling.
You thought about everything that happened in those 3 months.
How vil and emi were spotted many times having a romantic date. You two never went on many romantic dates, he only took you once, which was in the beginning of you two relationship. How they were spotted holding hands while at the mall. You were never able to do that since your relationship with vil at the time was hidden from the public.
How they hang out after every shoot and how he was spotted buying her a bouquet of flowers. He never did anything like that for you. In every interview, when the host asks him about his love life, he goes on to say how beautiful and amazing emi is. He never even talked about you like that to anyone if they were to ask.
And so you wonder, did vil ever love you?
We're you so blinded with love that you probably didn't even notice it was one sided? 
He barely made an effort in you two relationship but with emi, he does everything he can to be around her more and make her happy.
You have spotted emi a few times at NRC. You see how they both walk to pomefiore dorm together and how he looks at her the same way he used to look at you . How the smile on his face seems more genuine everytime he is with her.
Maybe you really were blind.
Maybe he didn't love you as much as he loves her.
And you hate yourself for still being in love with someone that obviously doesn't love you.
Maybe you are dumb..
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Since the ghosts don't have names (from what I remember) I gave them names and have a few headcanons for them!
Plump ghost - Otis
Skinny ghost - Harold
Small ghost - Frederick
Idk but everytime I see them these names just pop up in my head and so I went with it😭
We love Ace being protective over big sister yuu/reader in this‼️[plus the rest of the squad]
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zablife · 3 months
Text
You're No Good For Me
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Tommy Shelby x OC Satine
Summary: When Tommy comes into possession of a new club, the Shelbys want to know more about the beautiful and seductive performer working there. What happens when Tommy confronts her about her hidden past?
Author’s Note: Requested by @goodnightkatherine who wanted to see Tommy with a jazz singer men are obsessed with.
Warnings: language, mention of drinking, violence, possessiveness, hints of dark!Tommy, PTSD, mention of a weapon
“Bloody hell, the tits on her! Didn’t I tell ya?” Arthur asked, a wicked smirk curling around the edges of his whisky glass. His eyes never left the stage where a voluptuous ginger haired beauty leaned over the crowd. As her gloved hand seductively slid along the curve of her hip, a slight shudder ran through Arthur. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his trousers just as her ruby lips parted once more and she purred the last line of a lovesick ballad into a golden microphone.
“They’ve got a little perch for her up in the rafters and she swings on it like a bird. Last night she even did an act with red silks where she tied herself-“ Finn started, excitedly.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Arthur cut him off. “Shouldn’t he be working the door?” he rolled his eyes toward the table, irritation visible in his clenched fist.
Tommy leaned back in his chair, studying the effect she had on his brothers and every other man in the club. “Go on, Finn,” he ordered with a jerk of his chin.
As the number came to an end, he placed his cigarette between his lips and clapped stiffly, the deafening noise drowning out the huff of a laugh that escaped before an honest assessment. “So this is why you want to stay in London, eh?”
“S right,” Arthur affirmed eagerly as he poured another round. “You need someone to keep an eye here.”
“On the club, Arthur,” Tommy reminded his brother with a sharp note of warning.
“And she’s part of it, ain’t she?” Arthur grumbled.
Tommy shook his head warily, “Remember what dad used to say, brother. Fast women…”
“And slow horses…”, Arthur interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I know, I know, Tom!”
Tommy held Arthur’s gaze for a moment as he finished bitterly, “Will ruin your life.” He stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray, glancing back toward the empty stage. “I’ve things to do first, then I’ll give you my answer,” he replied, abruptly ending their conversation.
“Go on then. Don’t let me keep ya,” Arthur bellowed with a sweep of his arm. Allowing the king to exit in grand fashion, he remained at the table unwilling to allow his baby brother to spoil his evening or his plans for the future.
———————————-
The passageways beneath the stage were dark and winding, causing Tommy’s chest to constrict unnaturally. It didn’t bother him when there was chatter from the girls, but now it had become eerily silent save for the rush of blood through his ears. Tommy made haste to the dressing rooms, forcing his boots to thud upon the concrete floor a bit harder than necessary.
Soon he came upon the room he sought, breathing a sigh of relief at the glow of pale orange light seeping from beneath the door like an outstretched hand saving him from the smothering darkness. Like a beacon it called to him and he pushed the flimsy panel open without knocking, any pretense of formality forgotten. 
“I need to speak with you,” he informed the woman sat at the vanity. The redhead looked up with a look of bored detachment, powdering her nose as she raised her eyes to meet his in the mirror.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a foreign lilt he immediately recognized as French.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked incredulously.
“Are you an admirer?” she asked with a sly smile. Tommy cocked an eyebrow at her, but she only giggled in return. “I have many of those.”
“No, love, I’m not here to throw roses at your feet,” he confirmed. 
“That’s a pity. I like roses,” she pouted. 
“So I’ve heard from your previous employer, but there’s going to be a new arrangement. You see, as of last week, I own this club,” Tommy informed her as he clasped his hands behind his back.
She turned slowly to face him, head tilted to catch a glimpse of his shadowed face beneath his cap. “Are you here to fuck me?” she offered breathlessly.
Tommy shook his head. “No, nothing like that," he assured her, removing his cap slowly and placing it on a nearby chair.
“Then this job will be easier than I expected,” she purred, standing to her full height. She was easily a foot taller than Tommy and she carried it with a casual elegance.
“What’s your name?” he asked, fishing his cigarette case from his pocket and turning it over in his palm.
“Satine,” she replied without hesitation, a smirk playing on her lips mischievously.
Tommy laughed mirthlessly, the sharp note of annoyance clear as he rolled his eyes. He took a moment to light his cigarette, the flame of his lighter flashing in her cat like eyes. “Your real name,” he pressed in a low, dangerous voice, taking a step closer to where she now stood.
In such close proximity she was able to scan the details of his face, pale skin still youthfully freckled but the sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes bore the passage of time. She looked away before he could glimpse the recognition hidden in her gaze, but she’d already lingered a moment too long.
Tommy seized on it immediately. “You think I don’t know you behind a few rhinestones and hair lacquer,” he taunted, exhaling a large plume of smoke toward her. Leaning in to capture her face in the palm of his callused hand he hissed, “Say your fucking name.”
She tried not to recoil, but the tight lipped smile that tugged at her mouth gave away her discomfort. “Why do you need this?” she asked, jerking her chin away in defiance. 
“Cos I want you to admit what you are...what you did,” Tommy spat, hand flying to her delicate neck as he forced her against the opposite wall. 
Red nails clawing against his wrist, Satine shook her head. “I-I did nothing…” she sputtered.
“Yeah, you did nothing," Tommy nodded in agreement as he emphasized the last word. "Left me for dead," he seethed, tightening his hold until she was left gasping for air before him.
Her eyes welled with tears as they had that final night spent together, tucked away in her tiny flat making promises of a life together after the war. Back then he didn’t care that she fucked Barney first, knowing he would be her last. She’d promised him she’d be his forever. She said, "I'll wait through any storm to be by your side."
It was that thought alone that drove him to dig after the tunnel collapse, clawing his way from the depths of the blackened earth to seek her embrace. There was nothing but emptiness waiting in her flat, however, the neighbor apologizing with sorrowful eyes when forced to recount the man come to collect her. For the better part of a year, he chased a ghost before returning home to Birmingham alone.
As the memories washed over him in quick succession, Tommy allowed the rage to consume him. He watched her head loll and her eyes roll back in the moment before losing consciousness. A low whimper from her pulled him out of himself, the intoxicating sound of her causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. With that, he released his grasp and backed away to the center of the room as nausea gripped him.
Satine fell forward clutching her chest, a coughing fit descending upon her as she struggled for breath. “T-tommy,” her desperate voice called out. The sound echoed around him like the beating of the shovels inside his skull and he turned away clutching his head. 
“You’re no good for me,” he reminded himself as he screwed his eyes shut. But I want you still, his tortured mind replied, fingers fumbling beneath his jacket for the cold comfort of his revolver...a decision to be made.
-----------------------
Tag List:
@peakyswritings
@evita-shelby
@shelbydelrey
@alanadetigy
@wandawiccan60   
@severewobblerlightdragon
@lovemissyhoneybee
@theshelbyslimited
@kittycatcait219
@callsign-fangirl
@christinasyellowflowers
@notyour-valentine
@theshelbyclan
@red-riding-wood
@polishcrazyone
@elenavampire21
@little-diable
@lyarr24
@jomarch-wannabe
@the-fangirl-diaries
@kmc1989
@everythingelseisextra
@stilestotherescue 
@helen06dreamer
@chaosinkest1996 
@pietroxreader
@galactict3a
@cillmequick
@brummiereader
@call-sign-shark
@runnning-outof-time
@look-at-the-soul
@garrison-girl-08
@dandelionprints
@thomashelbyswife
@allie131313
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@kmhappybunny240
@babaohhhriley
@emotionalcadaver
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verinarin · 4 months
Note
Dr ratio with a short! furina reader HCS ?? (Can be male, female or gn. )
I hope it wouldn't be too much to ask😭
Can be smut, fluff, platonic. It's your choice to pick!!!
sorry for the late response I forgot to check my inbox 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。
as someone who LOVES Furina this would be a treat to write !!, I’m using Penacony as the background with Robin referenced !
fluff all the wayy (would be open to write a pt2 smut if you want but I’m keeping this fluffy because it’s a long one <3)
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After performing with Robin for a special event her brother hosted you resign back to your dressing room, you will never get bored of the bright stage lights illuminating your skin as you sing
But it gets tiring after the performance so you can’t wait to just go home and maybe stop by the dessert parlour you love so much near your apartment
You look at the mirror in front of you as you gently pat your face before a knock can be heard, oh it’s probably Robin wanting to ask you to ear together after a performance like she usually does
You happily walk towards the door, you open the door with a smile to reveal a man towering before you with a ridiculously huge bouquet of rainbow roses; your favourite !
You’re quite shocked to say the least, because they don’t usually let some random fellow wander around backstage with that huge bouquet
The man seemed to notice your mouth agape as you tilted your head up to gaze at him, is comedically funny how far back your head must be to fully see his face
Suddenly the man leans down and rests his arm on the closed door behind you, making it easier for you to look at him
“Good evening, pardon my interruption my name is Veritas Ratio currently working for the IPC as a delegate I’m here to formally congratulate you on your astonishing performance,” his smooth voice lingers on your ear as the bouquet distance you both
You remembered Sunday talked about inviting some members of the IPC to Penacony, so he must be one of those people Sunday talked about
“Ah ! how kind of you please come in,” you smile as you let him in, you usually wouldn’t be doing this to a stranger but this one is Sunday’s guest so you must treat him well
As he let himself in, he quietly looked around at your dressing room. Your vanity is filled with various types of makeup and accessories, not to mention your wardrobe that’s filled with different dresses and suits
You gestured for him to sit on the couch that faced your vanity, he put the bouquet on your vanity before sitting down on the couch, you seat in front of him in your chair before asking the important question you’ve been meaning to ask, “So what brings you here, Mr Ratio ?”
“Well first and foremost as a delegate for the IPC I’m here to foster a good relationship between Penacony and its high-profile residents, but I must admit that I have my reasons,” he smiles, his arms folded together as he awaits your reply
Well, you could see IPC’s intentions but his reasons however, it intrigue you, to say the least, “My my what can I possibly offer you Mr Ratio ?,”
“Please just Veritas should be fine and I was hoping that I’ll be the one who’s offering today,” he chuckles as he looks into your eyes, this mysteriously handsome man is making you flustered in just a simple glance, how unfair !
You quickly snap your mind back from the daydream to answer his offer, “Well what are you offering and for what purpose is this hypothetical offer you’re going to give me ?,”
“A dinner to get to know you better but I heard from a certain someone that you have a sweet tooth so how about a trip to the dessert parlour you like ?, my treat of course,” well someone has done their research
To be honest you were going to nod your head furiously but you need to restrain yourself from excitement, even though it’s quite evident by you playing with your fingers “Well…if I man who done his study on my favourite thing offers than who am I to decline,” your eyes wander around the room, avoiding his warm gaze
“Well then shall we ?,” he smiles as he stands up and hands out his hand, you take the offer and place your hands on his own, he gently brings the back of your hand towards his lips and gently presses a kiss, this turns you into a red strawberry in just 0.11 second !
The walk towards the dessert parlour was delightful, you get to know more about this intriguing man, he’s a scholar and apparently, he has 7 PhD degrees, in normal circumstances you would probably think he was jesting but seeing how he talks and presents himself, you knew he must be the real deal
As you enter the parlour the owner suddenly appears and guides you both to your seat by the window, showcasing Penacony’s breathtaking view. “I hope you like the seat that I chose,” Veritas says as he drags the chair out for you to sit in
“You reserved us a seat ?” you ask dumbfounded by his words, this man had just met you and he’s already treating you like a princess
He chuckles before sitting in front of you, “Of course as a matter of fact I already ordered every single thing for us to try and don’t worry if you can’t finish it all, you can always take it home,”
Your pupils dilate like how a cat would when they’re happy, he finds the sight to be adorable and he’s quite fond of your sweet tooth, “You’re spoiling too much and barely know me,” you huff feeling a little bit upset at him for spending a lot of money on you
“I see it as a worthy investment,” he replies candidly as the waiter pours lavender tea into your cup, oh you’re quite interested in his choice of words
“Hmm investment for what ?” you ask as you trace your finger on the rim of the cup, waiting patiently for his answer
“Let’s just say I’d like to impress you so that we could do this more often, I genuinely want to get to know,” well before this he has already impressed you from the start
“Is this a date this feels like a date,” you tease which he replies with a chuckle of his own “Can’t you tell from the start that I’m enamoured by you ?”
“Oh ?, umm is this a date…?,” you nervously smile while asking, you’re so oblivious to his pursuit that he finds it rather endearing. He reaches forward to brush a strand of your hair back before replying
“Silly girl, can’t you tell that I’m one of your devoted fan ?,”
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