Tumgik
#british actor fanfiction
sillywoman01 · 10 months
Text
WIP Motivation Game
Tagged by @xstrawmari
Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It's fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count and add a "show results" for the other vote option).
Tag anyone you think may also want to play (no pressure of course).
Whichever WIP gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.
If somehow that completes the fic or reaches the end of a chapter, move to the WIP with the second-highest votes and continue where you left off on your sentence/word count. Repeat until you reach your goal.
(Optional) Share what you wrote in a new Tumblr post with a link to the poll or in a reblog!
Which WIP should I work on?
Tagging ( if you want to participate): @michelleelizabethtanner @littleengine74
@justalilobsessd @ceewritesonao3 @briofanfic @juuuuunaaaaaooooo
14 notes · View notes
jomarch-wannabe · 11 months
Text
Sold (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader)
Tumblr media
Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold's daughter!Reader
Synopsis: The coin lands on tails
Warnings: Smut 🔞(implied age gap, dubcon/noncon, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, cursing, praise kink, sir kink, choking, overstimulation) Angst (anxiety, crying, manipulation, blood loss)
Author's note: I thought of this on a whim one day and went with it. Definitely a darker portrayal of Tommy.. read at your own discretion.
CH. ONE CH. TWO
——————————————————————————
“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard Charlie.”
“You goin’ what?”
“If it’s heads, Abe here takes all this,” Tommy explained with an extended hand, “with my blessing.”
“Tommy!”
“And if it’s tails,” Tommy paused, flicking his eyes to Aberama's cocked brow. “I fuck your daughter Mr. Gold.”
His face fell stone cold at the proposition.
“What’ll it be?” Tommy asked with a smug expression, dragging a cigarette across his lips. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.” Abbie spat, straightening his posture to assert dominance.
Tommy’s expression remained unchanged as he twirled the coin between his fingers before tossing it in the air, catching it on top of his hand.
His pale blue eyes glinted as he uncovered the coin, facing tails up. In an effort to contain his amusement his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked up to Abe.
“A deal is a deal.” Abe coughed, adjusting the collar of his coat, clenching his jaw.
Tommy nodded in acknowledgement as his face cast aglow from the flame of his cigarette. Behind the orange glare you could faintly make out the edge of his lips tugging into a smirk.
——————————————————————————
Expensive shoes crunched lightly against the gravel of Thomas Shelby’s driveway as you exited your lift. Your breath hitched in nervousness as the car rolled away behind you, disappearing into the darkness.
With a few hesitant steps you made contact with the door, knocking lightly against the wood. After a few moments a maid named Frances let you in, granting your chilled limbs a satisfying warmth in the lit up foyer.
Her hands fell open out of habit, prepared for your coat. The fabric fell off your shoulders with the shrug of your arms, exposing your skin.
She smiled warmly as she received it, turning from you to place it on a rack. With her back to you, you were granted the privacy to unhide your expression. The heaviness of shame dragged the corners of your mouth into a frown.
She turned to you, attentive with her posture and eyes. “Are you here to see Charlie? A sitter perhaps?” Her brows raised in a sort of put on friendliness.
You blinked, thumbing the beads hanging off your dress. “N-no,” you replied shyly, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “I’m here to see Thomas Shelby.”
Her warm expression melted at the realization, the falling of her lips communicated an unspoken sympathy.
You took in a breath, shaky with anticipation. “Might you direct me to his room?”
“Right, of course.” She shook her head in embarrassment, forcing a smile and guiding you with an extended arm.
As you followed behind her and up the stairs, your eyes flicked over the many paintings on the walls. A blonde woman caught your eye. She was beautiful; framed in a circle of moonlight pouring through a nearby window. Your neck craned, following her eyes, as they did you grew nauseous.
“It’s just down the hall there dear,” The maid directed with a pointed finger, dissolving your trance.
Your eyes scanned over the many doors, stopping at one furthest down the hall. An orange glow spread from under the door, illuminating a path on the embroidered carpet.
“Thank you.” You murmured, keeping your eyes down, and starting down the vacant hall.
She hummed as she departed, disappearing carefully down the stairs.
Hesitant steps carried you down the dark corridor. The shaking of your breath broke the stillness of the air as you grew closer to your fate. A throbbing commenced in your head as you stopped, hovering inches from the door.
Black shadows moved at your feet, indicating activity on the other side. Swallowing thickly, you raised your fist to hover against the wood. With a heavy breath you knocked lightly, 2 times. A stirring of bed sheets came through the door, making you freeze.
“Come in.” a masculine voice called out, increasing your heart rate.
With his instruction, you turned the knob, twisting it’s cool handle and pushing it open with a creak. Candlelight lit up his figure as you entered the room.
Your chest rose as your eyes flicked over his shirtless form, sprawled under white bed sheets with a drink in his outstretched arm. He was otherworldly. His taut chest was covered in ripples of muscle, decorated with a tattoo. His firm forearms twitched slightly as he thumbed the glass in his hand. Your posture stiffened as you closed the door behind you, not removing your eyes from him.
“So you’re Gold’s daughter eh?” He asked, although already knowing the answer. His eyes hungrily scanned your body as he awaited a response.
“Y-yes.” You subconsciously played with the hem of your dress as his piercing blue eyes drank you in.
“What’s your name?” The bed springs squeaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching to sit his drink on the nightstand.
Your breath hitched at the quiet thud against the wood. “Y/n, sir.”
He was quiet for a moment, suppressing a groan at your pet name. “That’s a lovely name.”
Your eyes wandered to his shifting hips as he neared you, growing taller with every step. The thin white fabric of his boxers scarcely hid the print of his length.
“Y/n.” He repeated to himself, admiring you with parted lips. Your attention moved to him as your name dripped off his tongue. In closeness you could smell his cologne, almost taste it.
I’m curiosity he extended a finger out to brush your cheek, tracing your soft, youthful skin.
The contact made your face burn, unfamiliar with the feeling of a man’s touch.
He pulled away in surprise, studying you with furrowed brows.
His gaze was dominant, powerful, making you feel small and submissive in his presence. His proximity was arousing, close enough to feel his body heat warming yours.
“Are you a virgin?” His voice was low and gravely, making your stomach sink.
You couldn’t help your eyes from watering, both in embarrassment and fear. “Y-yes sir.”
“Fuck.” He groaned, clenching his jaw.
You shifted your weight on each foot, unsure if he was aroused or regretful.
“I’ve never taken a man Mr. Shelby.” With wide, innocent eyes you studied his face. His captivating crystal eyes, his prominent cheek bones, then down to his pink, plump lips, glistening with saliva as he pulled his bottom lip into his teeth.
You mimicked him subconsciously, growing in desire as you studied his masculine features.
His eyes met yours making you gasp softly.
Without warning he closed the gap between you, capturing your mouth in his.
The impact pushed you back slightly, if not for his hand on your back you would have stumbled over.
His breath fanned your cheek as his lips hungrily caressed yours, sucking at your mouth with his.
Your heart pounded with adrenaline, both in arousal and fear.
Your neck craned as you clumsily kissed him back, steadying yourself with your fingers against his shifting jaw.
He groaned at your touch, pulling away from you with a pop. Your eyes fluttered open at his retreat, finding his lust blown pupils, glistening in the amber light.
His hand slid up your back in eagerness, though not rushed, reaching for the top zipper. The feeling of his hands on your body send chills down your skin.
Your dress loosened as he pulled down, nearly exposing your chest if not for your hand catching the falling fabric.
“Wait..” your voice trembled, blinking in fear. His fingers loosened from the zipper at your protest.
“It’s just,” you breathed in, chewing your lip as to not grow upset, “I’m afraid.”
In amusement his mouth curled into a half smile, exposing his teeth, intrigued by your innocence.
Don’t worry love,” he leaned into your ear, muttering lowly with a gravely tone, “I’ve got the best cock in England.”
There wasn’t sarcastic tone in his voice, rather a seriousness, a confidence that rolled off his tongue. The thought made your stomach twist.
“Let me see you.”
You obliged, knowing it was a command and not a suggestion. Slowly, your hand lifted from your chest, allowing the gown the fall down your body.
It hit the floor with a soft thud, exposing your youthful figure. A chill raised on your skin at your bareness, causing you to shiver slightly.
He pulled back from your ear, taking time to admire you. His mouth fell agape as he took you in. Your slender shoulders, narrow hips, and pink nipples, erect in the cool air.
“Christ.”
Instinctually you covered yourself, hiding your breasts and core with trembling hands.
Your couldn’t face him, instead finding your gaze on the floor, watching your feet shift against the velvety carpet.
He shook his head, stepping towards you, bumping into your arms with his abdomen.
Your head tilted at the new angle, finding him looking down at you past his nose. “Don’t hide from me love.”
Your skin warmed as his large hands grasped your wrists, making your heart pound as he easily pulled them from your body.
“I need to fuck that little cunt.” He breathed to himself, exploring his hands up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their place.
Anticipating his cock inside of you made your stomach twist in knots.
His hands stopped at your shoulders, making you stumble backwards as he maneuvered you to the bed. The wood frame met your heels as you met the edge.
“Lay back love,” the force of his hands gently pushed you backwards, lowering you onto the mattress.
You sucked in a breath as the soft comforter swallowed your small frame, leaving you sprawled open. His eyes flicked over you with a predatory gaze, clenching his jaw in arousal as he scanned your body, ready to receive him. Your hair spread underneath you, rippling in soft waves across his sheets.
He worked his boxers down with his thumb, causing your chest to rise as he shuffled the fabric down his thighs.
A patch of dark hair exposed itself at the movement, before finally revealing his half hard cock, bobbing towards his toned abdomen.
Your lips parted in intrigue as he fisted himself a few times, growing hard as his thick fingers stimulated his reddened head.
He let out a withheld breath, dipping the mattress with his weight as he crawled on top of you, trapping you in with his outstretched arms.
Your heart was pounding at a dizzying pace as he closed the space between you. His body heat evaporated his scent, cool with lingering cigarette smoke and whiskey. You breathed him in, foreign to the musk of a man.
“I’ll take good care of you love,” he reassured, pulling your attention to him with a hand in your hair. “don’t worry..” he spoke against your lips, pulling you in for a long kiss.
Your eyes fell closed at the contact. His breath fanned your cheek as he tasted you, groaning lowly as he worked his soft lips against yours.
Imagining his skill made your thighs clench, knowing the amount of women he has been with.
Your squirming under him caught his attention, causing him to break the kiss, hovering inches from your face.
“Are you ready?” He asked, scanning over your face with an eagerness in his turquoise blue eyes.
“I have to be.” You mumbled in an uncertain tone, chewing the inside of your cheek.
He let out a heavy breath as he diverted his eyes from you, reaching for his length. You watched him attentively as he grasped himself, lining up with your open legs.
His other hand pinned down your thighs, making you stuck in a breath as he spread your soft flesh with his firm fingers.
With knit brows he pushed himself into your entrance, making you both gasp.
You fisted the sheets at the unfamiliar pressure, growing in intensity.
“Fuck…” He groaned as he worked into you, stretching out your tight walls with his thick cock.
You whimpered in pain as he buried himself inside of you, not stopping until his thighs touched yours.
He pulled out slightly, making your breath hitch as your insides burned.
The sheets wrestled as he changed positions, resting on his elbows to close the gap between you. His length bumped further into you, making you clench around him.
“Mr. Shelby.. I- I can’t..” you whimpered, writhing under him, looking to ease the feeling of fullness.
“Shh..” he soothed, hovering against your ear “It’ll feel good love, I promise.” His lips met your cheek softly, making you let out a breath.
With a concentration in his brow he pulled out slowly, making you gasp, empty and clenching around nothing.
His thick traps impeded your view, only giving you access to his shifting jaw and taut chest pressing into yours.
He plunged into you again with the bucking of hips, quicker this time, forcing himself inside of you.
You squeaked at the movement, feeling a pressure in your walls as he claimed you.
He began a steady rhythm, chasing pleasure with shaky breaths as he rocked in and out of you at a quick pace.
Your eyes squint shut as he stimulated you, sheathing you with his cock. The hair of his thighs tickled yours as he pounded in and out of you, rocking the bed.
He groaned lowly as you squeezed him, and began to pick up his intensity, harshly colliding with your body.
“Oh fuck..” he groaned with knit brows, fucking you hard. “Good girl, squeeze me like that.”
His praise withdrew a whimper from your throat, encouraging you to slide your hands over his back. Your fingers explored the muscles of his shoulders, shifting with his movements.
The continuous intrusion of his length nudged a spot inside of you, making your toes curl.
“Mr. Shelby..” you whined, holding onto his shifting shoulders for leverage. His body was warm and tough with muscle.
Your sounds encouraged him, and he rutted into you harder, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you, sending bursts of pleasure down your legs.
Your nails dug into his flesh subconsciously, kneading his skin damp with sweat. He groaned, aroused by the pain of your nails in his flesh.
His breathing labored as he fucked you, fanning your face as his forehead fell against yours. You were spilling in arousal, squelching with his every movement.
Rapid breaths escaped your parted lips. Chasing the feeling, you arched your back, bumping into his chest. His sweat covered skin rubbed against yours as he fucked you.
“Are you close?”
Numb with pleasure your head nodded, unable to form words.
“Good girl..” he praised breathlessly, “good girl..” He rocked into you forcefully, moving your body back and forth on the mattress.
“I’m gonna-“ you paused, stunned by a wave of pleasure from his calculated thrusts, “Mr. Shelby..” your whimpered, helpless as your muscles tensed underneath him.
“Come for me sweetheart,” he panted, burying his head in your neck, “come for me.” His deep gravely voice pulled you over the edge.
“Oh fuck!” You yelped, convulsing as waves of pleasure wrecked through your body.
Your eyes squeezed shut in euphoria, mouthing incoherent words as he fucked you through your high, murmuring against your skin.
He moaned deeply as your spasming walls squeezed his length, making his pace waver for a moment.
“Fuck..” you moaned, wrestling the sheets with your squirming.
He didn’t stop, relentlessly fucking your overstimulated entrance with his thick length.
“Mr. Shelby.. it’s too much..” your nails dug into his back in pain.
“I’m almost there love,” he panted, red in the face as he neared his high.
His length continued to pry into you, deeper and harder as his desperation grew.
You squirmed instinctively, pulling yourself away from his cock.
He intercepted your resistance with a firm hand sliding up your throat. His grasp caught the breath in your lungs, making your eyes water.
“Fuck.. stay put love..” he groaned lowly, nudging his nose against your neck as he rutted in and out of you.
Your eyelids drooped at the pressure, lazily following the shifting muscles in his back.
“Ahhh..” he groaned deeply, flexing his core against yours. “Oh fuck…”
He came undone at last, emptying himself into you with a loud groan. “Christ..” he cursed with an open mouth, bucking his hips against yours as his warm seed filled you up.
His grasp tightened slightly as he tensed, unleashing a tear down your cheek and onto his hand.
His pace slowed to shallow rocking, as he came down from his high. Once satisfied, he pulled out with a slick wet noise, making your thighs shake.
His hand released from your throat as he caught his breath, lifting his head from yours to hover above you. His forehand fell against yours in exhaustion, leaving a bead of sweat on your face.
Without saying a word he leaned in, kissing your damp skin, removing the wetness with his lips.
You clenched your jaw, trying best to keep your emotions as bay as you turned your head from him, softly sniffling.
He pulled away from you, rolling to his back with a satisfied sigh as he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand.
While he was occupied you sat up slightly, pulling the covers over your exposed limbs.
As you did so your eyes caught a glimpse of red on the sheets. They wandered to your open thighs, widening at the sight of smeared blood.
You held a hand to you face, blinking in shock and turning to Tommy, “There’s blood!”
Your hand on his forearm turned his attention to you. “It’s okay love,” he took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a fair amount of smoke, “It’s normal.” His free hand reached for yours, smoothing over your knuckles with his thumb as he let out a puff of smoke through pursed lips.
His touch unleashed a flood of tears from your eyes, which you quickly covered with your hand as they trickled down your face.
You sucked in short breaths, crying against your hand as your body shook.
“Eh, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, reaching for you.
You shook your head, refusing to speak the truth, instead letting it out in the form of tears, forming dark circles on his sheets.
“Talk to me love,” His voice held a tone of sincerity as he kept his eyes to your frame. “Please.”
You took in a shaky breath, swiping your face before letting down your hand. “I’m just a body to you.”
Your gaze was emotionless, frozen on the yellow wallpaper in front of you, dancing over each flower design.
With enough courage you turned your head to face him, pulling your watery eyes to his. “I don’t want to just be a body Thomas.”
The sound of his name on your lips made him freeze. It was vulnerable. Desperate. His cold expression fell, replacing with one of sympathy and warmth in the flicking of his eyes.
“You’re not.” He shook his head, putting his cigarette down and smoothing his other hand over your arm. You leaned into his touch, sucking in a shaky breath through your mouth and rolling onto his chest.
“You’re not just a body to me love.” He spoke against your hair, smoothing over your back with firm strokes.
You nestled against his chest, focusing on the sounds of his shallow breathing against your ear, slowing your tears.
“I’ll make you more than that.”
4K notes · View notes
rqgnarok · 1 year
Text
currently working on a nolan price x svu!ex-wife!reader fic because my current obsession is hugh dancy and i’ve been bingewatching l&o just to see him be smart and pretty, so expect that soon!
24 notes · View notes
shamrockqueen · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Wasteland paradise
Chapter 1
Pairing : Boyka X Reader (Post Apocalyptic AU/ inspired by but not in the universe of Fallout new Vegas)
Warnings : R18, human trafficking, purchased reader, eventual Smut, rough smut, eroticism (not every chapter has smut), death of minor characters.
Word count : 1498
Scott Adkins Masterlist
Tumblr media
They say that the decay was gradual, overtaking humanity like a spiderweb of cancer and bleeding into the very bones of modern society. The elite sat comfortably on their pedestals as the earth below them crumbled—that is, until the rot reached them too. They say that when the tallest tower finally fell, it was already too late.
The underbelly was all that survived, becoming this new aristocracy within what once were major cities. Those who fled were left with the scorched landscape they had left barren. Some founded small communes; others formed almost farel gangs that roamed further out into the wasteland. Some settlements fizzled easily; some were attacked and picked clean by invaders; but a few seemed to live long enough to spawn other generations.
You’d never know what that modern world was truly like, and sometimes you’d find yourself wondering how your life would have been if the older generations had ensured a better future. It wasn’t worth thinking about anymore. No, living through the week has greatly outweighed depressive fantasies.
You found yourself alone—finally and horribly alone.
You tried your best to wash the blood stain out, but no amount of scrubbing could make the dress clean again. It felt low, repurposing the very clothes your mother died in while she lay naked in a shallow grave, but you couldn’t afford to waste the fabric. The dress would never come clean, but the pattern was a beautiful yet slightly faded floral blue, so the cleanest part of the fabric had to have been worth something. Anything to put some food on that empty table now that you’d be the only one left to provide for it.
Almost all of your time had been spent taking care of your mother until her slow demise, which had her coughing up most of her own blood. It was always hard to look at her while she was in that state, and the only hope now was that she would be at peace.
You looked at the once-beautiful dress you had bundled in your hands. It had been her favorite, but it was too late to bury her with it now. You pulled the small switchblade from your pocket and began cutting off the stained portion of the fabric. You didn’t bother to cut the seams, as whoever bought it off of the trader once it left your hands would just do it themselves.
You bundled the dress under your arm and left your little home. You had shared this poorly constructed, one-room shanty house with what was left of your family. The small shanty village wasn’t very big and didn’t yield very much production, but the few traders that came through were often a godsend as they brought in many much-needed supplies. A tiny smudge on their map, and they still remembered to visit all of you.
You hoped to get there early so as not to be stuck in the hot sun for most of your day. The caravan was normally parked over by the moonshiners shack, an old man who made a pretty good hootch and would sell a lot to the passing traders.
It was the main reason the caravan came at all and often a great reprieve from everyday life since he’d let the townsfolk get drunk at a hefty discount.
He was nice enough for an old coot, and more often than not, he could be seen sitting in front of his home with his dog Trixie, waiting for the traders to show up.
Old Trixie was sweet and would wonder over and nuzzle up to passersby in search of extra affection and maybe a bit of food. She usually rushed the hill when anyone got close, but when you rounded towards the shack, she wasn’t anywhere in sight.
You crested over the hill and looked down at the lonely little shack at the bottom. There were vehicles all around the house, alongside the trader’s trucks, but you didn’t see any people. You used your hand as a visor to shield your vision from the bright sun overhead to get a better look at the scene before you.
A mound of fluff lay motionless next to the door. Trixie’s telltale brown and white spots were stained in a deep, terrifying red splattered along her small body.
More bodies, larger and human, came into view, all of which lay slain by the side of the caravan. You stopped walking, shaking in your boots at the prospect of getting caught by whatever had caused this entire scene. You nearly pissed your pants off when the mirador walked out of the shack with a jug of hooch in each hand. He wore a torn armored vest doused in a fair amount of blood that most likely wasn’t his.
He turns back towards the house as if to talk to someone behind him, and you take this chance to turn tail and run back the way you came. The fabric was let loose from where you’d clutched it under your arm, kicked away by the dusty wind in exchange for your meager life. The desecration, the sacrifice, the loss—none of it was worth anything now, and all was forgotten in the wake of a possible bullet to the teeth.
The only sound you could hear was the crunch of dirt under your boots as the blood rushed to your ears. You sprint off as fast as you can, propelling yourself down the hill almost faster than your legs can keep up with.
You barely caught the sound of someone shouting after you with a jovial “Woah, where’s the fire?”
All were silenced after a loud bang of gunshots went off not far behind you. Everyone scattered like ants as more shots rang through the air.
You make the mistake of turning back to look at the whirring of a spiked vehicle as it rounds over the hill. You tried to run as fast and as far as your feet could carry you until you could find ample cover from the impending doom.
The flicker of the blue plastic tarp as it got caught up in the breeze stole your sight as you switched your direction towards possible safety. Your boots nearly slid out from under you as you dove towards the tarp. It proved to be a small, unused alcove between two shanty houses, with the plastic cover leftover from a collapsed partial roof.
You kick yourself underneath it and fling the tarp back over your body. You had to squeeze in among the long-forgotten junk as you tried to steady your heart.
You watched as the shadows flickered from the outside of your small cover; many were from those running away just as you had, but others were larger with more sharp edges. Your stomach ached as the shrill and broken voices of your neighbors disappeared into the distance, but it would be the first crack of gunfire that made your guts drop entirely. The cries of the fallen were quickly devoured by the roar of scrap metal against the rough terrain vehicles that rolled by.
You held your breath to keep from hyperventilating, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as tears dribbled tracks down your dirtied cheeks.
You hear heavier, slower footsteps that clinked as they hit the dirt. The sound of it was horribly clear as they got closer and closer to you, hidden only by a tattered blue tarp. When the cracked leather of the side of a boot came into view, you had to choke down every ounce of fear that wanted to burst forth, practically forcing it back down into your lungs as it twisted your face in horror.
You wait just as they wait. The boots don’t move for however long it takes to make your heart nearly beat out of your chest. Then they started to turn towards you.
The next sound is deafening as bits of rusted metal go flying as the blue sheet is ripped right off of it. Old car parts clunk and scrape together, and you have to cover your head with your hands as the small avalanche of junk falls over you.
As the hot sun hit your body once again, there was no use in staying quiet, and a scream finally forced its way out of your body.
To your dismay, you weren’t shot; you were only dragged out by the roots of your hair as the raider dug his fingers into your scalp. You're barely kicking as your legs fight, only to wiggle out from under the junk pile.
He pulls you out onto the road before giving you a kick and a quick order of “get up, off the fuckin ground.”
You scramble up, hands over your head, his rusted gun pointed to your face. He barked out “walk” through his broken teeth, pointing ahead of you with his weapon before kicking the back of your knee when you didn’t already turn and start moving. Your leg buckled but kept you upright as you limped ahead of him towards the chaos they had created.
Shanty houses were lit on fire after being looted and knocked over. A few children were being pulled away from the corpses of their parents left laying in the street; some were caught in the crossfire and laid not far from their fallen family.
“There’s almost nothing here aside from the hooch and the cargo from the caravan!” One man shouted out to the one following not far behind you, his gun still pointed to your back.
“Grab some survivors and load'em into one of the empty wagons. We can sell them off at the trade center for good money.” The voice behind you called back. “If they try to fight you, just shoot’um.”
When your knees shook, it slowed your pace, and you heard him yell at you, “Move, damn it.” And you picked your feet up as quickly as you could towards the caravan.
True to their word, anyone who fought back was shot immediately. They would say that they could still get plenty of money for a few of you, so losing 1, 2, or maybe 5 wouldn’t be an issue.
When everyone was loaded into the wagon, it pulled off with a kick of dust. You watched your old town smolder and smoke in the distance until it disappeared into the wasteland. You’d never see the shanty town again, not that there would ever be anything left to look for.
Tumblr media
Chapter 2
Tags : @annwoods91 @jasminrt1
7 notes · View notes
lokidokieokie · 2 years
Text
The “L” Word
Summary: You and Benedict had only been dating for three months when he had to leave to film for Sherlock. Three months later and he still hadn’t come home; you missed him like crazy. The nightly calls were the only thing that got you through the day. And, after one particularly draining day, you accidentally let the “L” word slip...
Pairing: Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader
Warning(s): fluff overload (I didn’t know I was capable of writing this much fluff), Benedict being all cute, adoring pet names, some naughty words 🫢 (whose really surprised at this point?)
Tumblr media
Walking through your front door to a cold and empty house was sadly the new norm for you. Ever since Ben had left to film the latest season of Sherlock, everything was just...off. Your home didn't feel the same without him.
Entering your home felt weird without the welcome home kiss that Ben would give you; sleep was hard to come by without his loving arms draped around your waist; and how were you meant to get through the day without his little cheeky messages?
Nothing was normal anymore, and God you missed Ben. You longed for the day he would come home, so you could sleep in his arms again--for the day that everything would become normal again.
The only thing getting you through this was the nightly phone calls; at least you could hear his voice before you fell asleep. But trying to occupy your mind until then was always a challenge.
Today's method: cleaning and decluttering the house. Hopefully that can occupy you long enough.
Tumblr media
At exactly 8 o'clock, your phone began blasting the Sherlock theme tune causing you to drop your broom as you bolted towards it; narrowly missing tripping over the ottoman to get to it.
"Ben!" You excitedly exclaimed.
You could practically hear him smile through the phone, "Hello, Love."
"How's my favourite high-functioning sociopath doing today?"
Ben laughed, "He's doing alright, but he wants to know how his favourite girl's big presentation at work went today."
Conversations with Ben were pretty much the highlight of your day. You got to hear what shenanigans that cast of Sherlock got up to, he got to hear about the weird guy at work who sat at a table across from his tie and talked to it during lunch. It was pretty much just pure and utter nonsense that made you miss him that much more.
"I miss you so much, Darling."
You sighed softly, "I miss you too, Ben."
“How is it already eleven o’clock? It feels like I only began talking to you ten minutes ago.”
"Time flies when you're having fun, Benny." You giggled at his groan, he did not like that nickname.
"One day I'll give you a stern talking to about that nickname."
You rolled your eyes, "Sure you will, Benny, sure you will."
He sighed, "In all seriousness though, I've got to get to bed. Can't have Sherlock being even grumpier than he already is tomorrow. Good night, Love."
"Good night, Ben. I love you-" You quickly cut yourself off.
Shit. You just said the "L" word didn't you? This was not a conversation meant to be had over the phone. It wasn't something that should've been brought up at all.
Curse your tired self!
"Darling? Did you just-"
"I said nothing, good night!"
And with that, you quickly ended the call and practically threw your phone across the room.
That was not how the conversation was meant to go.
Grumbling to yourself, "This calls for some wine."
Tumblr media
The sound of the doorbell continuously ringing roused you out of your somewhat peaceful sleep.
Who in the world would be ringing your doorbell at 3 in the morning?
Slowly clambering your way out of bed, the noise didn't cease.
"Cool your tits, I'm coming!"
Grumpily trudging down the stairs, you swore to all Gods out there that you would kill whoever was on the other side of that door.
Angrily opening the door you began scolding whoever it was, "Do you have any idea what time it-"
You were cut short by a pair of familiar lips dancing with your own. That was not something you were expecting when you opened your door at 3am.
"Ben? What are you doing here? It's 3 in the bloody morning."
"I don't like the way our conversation ended."
You anxiously began playing with your fingers. "It ended how every conversation does, with a good night."
He tsked, "You were never a good liar, Love."
You sighed, "I didn't mean to announce it like that. It kind of slipped-"
He smiled, "I love you, too."
You jerked your eyes up to meet his. "You do?"
He cupped your face in his hands, "You have no idea how long I've waited to tell you those three words. I wanted to make it all special, going out to a fancy dinner, maybe a walk around Hyde Park? Just something special where I could declare my undying love for you, Y/n."
A tear slipped down your cheek and you lightly chuckled, "I'm sorry I ruined that plan."
He shook his head and wiped your tear away, "You didn't. I couldn't have imagined a better way for me to tell you that I love you, Y/n. I practically did the whole running through the airport cliché. As soon as you ended the phone call, I kind of just stood there with a goofy smile on my face; Martin had to knock me out of my daze. As soon as he did, I bolted towards my car and drove the three and a half hours to get here. I needed you to know I love you."
You gave him a soft kiss, "I need you to know that I love you, Ben."
He gave you the goofiest smile possible. "Say it again, please."
You giggled, "I love you, Benedict Cumberbatch."
He pecked you on the lips, "I love you too, Y/n L/n."
That night, you finally got to fall asleep with Ben's loving arms wrapped around you; and you had never slept better.
Tumblr media
Don’t know how I feel about this...but oh well :)
Find my masterlist here!
94 notes · View notes
ghoulsister1 · 9 months
Text
Safe Space
My F/Os x Self Insert Reader.
[I've had a really rough day and my entire mood has took a full nose dive as my anxiety and depression is overtaking me. I'm thankful that my beloved F/Os are here, I need the warmth and comfort they bring🥺]
The sky opened up above the heads of the people out and about, rain lashing down upon anyone who was brave enough or if you love the rain to stay out in this weather. Those who wore their best hardy raincoat and carried a sturdy umbrella were not deterred by the downpour. Those who forgot theirs could be seen dashing about the streets, pulling up their hoodies or best business jackets in an attempt to stay dry while some used newspapers or magazines.
I, on the other hand carried no umbrella nor newspaper. I had a good coat on me, but I didn't bother to pull up the hood to shield my already soaked hair from the rain, I just walked on through the streets of London, my mind far away and yet I was still coherent enough to dodge passers-by who were seeking shelter from the weather. I passed through crowds of people by the bus stop with unnatural ease, as if I was a wayward spirit just passing through people, no one saw me and if they did happen to look at me they paid me no heed and looked the other way.
Was I one of those rain loving few, braving the downpour? To be truthfully honest, I don't mind the rain but I would still dress appropriately and take care not to get wet. So why was I walking around in torrential rain without the hood of the coat pulled up?
Today I had some family relatives visiting me from my home country, just across the pond. They were staying at a local hotel and wanted to meet me. I happily obliged, even took my beloveds along to get acquainted. Everything was going very well honestly, hell we even took them to see some museums and even to see Buckingham Palace. Everything was going so well. Until today.
I went alone to have breakfast with them at one of the diners. Alfie and Thomas were away attending to business while Danny was called away to help in the planning of the next big score with Mickey and the gang. I didn't mind, seeing as my family got familiar with my sweethearts for the last 5 days and would understand why they weren't with me today. So I went alone to have breakfast with the family. Things started off smoothly, until I said I couldn't come visit them back at home next weekend because I would be away in Scotland with my beloveds for a little holiday of sorts.
The table had fallen very silent, until my Aunt spoke. "What about after your holiday?" Asked my Aunt. I informed them that I couldn't either because I would back working and I already had a few times off because of a wedding and a friend's birthday party, I couldn't dare ask my boss for another off day. He'd been generous enough already, me and him are on very good terms. Besides, I had a friend's wedding coming up and there was girls getaway to Wales too coming up. I couldn't make it, I'd be too exhausted.
After telling them this, my Aunt started and soon the whole table erupted into chaos. It sounded like a room full of politicians, one side calling me out as "too busy for family" "shouldn't have moved to another country" "selfish" and "loves her men more than time with the family" and the other side defending me, saying "it's her life" "she'll visit when she has time" "her boys have been kind to us for showing us around London" and "you always start this Aunt!". I tried to get them to quieten down as we were in public and people who were already trying to have a peaceful breakfast were staring at the table, a mix of curiosity, disgust and sympathy.
I was so overwhelmed and so mortified by the behaviour, I just got up, said my goodbyes and left. Some of the family members called after me, some shouted insults and jeers. My anxiety was on overdrive, followed by the tidal wave of depression already washing over as I made my way back to the flat that I shared with my beloved Brits.
I eventually reached the street where our flat was. The sky had darkened so much some houses and flats had lights on inside. I saw the soft, orange glow of light inside the flat as I walked up to the door. My zombie walk home in the cold rain had numbed my legs that moving made it feel uncomfortable, especially in my knees. My fingers were ice cold as I opened the door and walked inside, a blast of warmth welcoming me as I closed the door and called out to one of my boys. One of them had to be home because the lights were on inside and so was the heat.
"I'm upstairs love! Hang on I'm coming down!" Cried the voice of Danny Blue. I began hanging up my coat as Danny came downstairs, followed by the dogs. I gave him a soft smile though it felt like I was forcing it. Danny took in the sight of me, drenched to the bone except for my shirt which was dry as it was covered by my coat, except for my legs, hands, face and hair.
"Don't tell me you walked home through that flood out there! Were the taxis busy or something?" Asked Danny. I shook my head.
"No. I just....I just didn't feel like calling a taxi. So yeah, I walked home" I Said softly, desperately wishing the crack in my voice away. I could feel the tears welling up as fought against the urge to cry. Danny's face was full of concern as he moved closer to me, he placed a hand on my shoulder and I slowly turned to him, face hidden by some of my hair.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Asked Danny as he brushed away the hair from my face, taking in my watery eyes. "Oh love, what happened?" Asked Danny, concern in his voice. I sniffled, trying to will my voice to be strong, instead it came out meek and teary.
"Some of my relatives they....they weren't happy with me not going to visit them...I told them I was busy...so much stuff coming up I thought.....I thought they'd understand.....but....but" I Whimpered tearfully before letting out a choked sob as Danny pulled me into a hug. I buried my face into his chest and cried. Danny held on to me, holding me close and tight.
In between the sobs I told the story and how nasty they got. I told him that some family members did stand up for me but the vile words and insults thrown at me as I left was what hurt me most of all. Danny listened intently, he could feel his anger bubbling.
"How dare they turn around and say those things?! After we took them out to museums, a nice day in the park for lunch and even treated them a nice dinner and then turn around and say those things behind our backs! And insulting our little dove? One things for sure, Alfie and Tommy are not going be happy about this" Thought Danny as he rubbed soothing circles on my back, calming me and bringing me back.
"Let's get you out of those wet clothes and into something warm love. I'll put the kettle on, have a nice cup of tea and then it's on to some pampering for you" Said Danny, placing a kiss on my forehead. The gesture made me smile a little. As I went upstairs, Danny said something that made me giggle a little.
"Alfie and Tommy will definitely blow their top about this though! Please help me hold them back!" Said Danny, grinning. I giggled and promised I will try.
I dressed into some cute, fluffy Cinnamonroll pjs and got my Pusheen slippers on. The feeling of the soft fleece around me made me feel just that little more better while also easing away the icy thorns of hurt on my heart that little bit.
Tumblr media
I made my way downstairs to the living room where our dogs Scooter, Moonbeam and Cyril were curled up next to the fire. My cat Princess sat upon her cat perch Thomas got her last Christmas, taking one of her usual cat naps, somewhat thankful for the bad weather as it meant I couldn't take her for a walk. I sat down on the sofa, Danny was in the kitchen making the tea.
"Tommy called five minutes ago. He said he's on his way home with Alfie. Two sugars love?" Asked Danny.
"Yes Danny thank you" I Replied smiling softly. I curled myself up, wondering how Thomas and Alfie will react. But I wouldn't blame them if they got angry with my family relatives. Thomas was a gentleman with them, offering to pay for meals and even booked the tours of the museums. Alfie was very welcoming and acted like a tour guide, showing them the best spots to eat and the sights. And Danny was a loveable and always cracking jokes, making my uncles laugh and even playing billiards or darts with them at the pub. My boys were perfect gentlemen.
The sadness crept up on me as the door to our flat opened and in walked Alfie and Thomas. I didn't hear their car come up outside, I was so lost in my own racing mind. The two walked in and already Thomas felt something was off, especially when he saw the sadness in my eyes.
"What's happened?" Asked Thomas concerned. When Danny served our tea the boys sat down and I told them everything. Thomas was quiet along with Alfie but you could tell he was getting angry. Alfie just listened intently, though you couldn't tell he was angry but you could imagine the cogs moving in his head. Danny sat, glancing between Thomas quietly fuming with anger and Alfie silently thinking of some harsh words for some of the toxic members of my family.
I explained to them that some of my family members stood up for me but my uncles, two cousins and aunt were the ones that started and were the toxic ones. After I told my story, I awaited their thoughts on the matter.
"How dare they, fucking say those things to you. How dare they! I have a mind to go to the hotel and call them out on their shit" Said Thomas gritting his teeth.
"Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I'm prioritising my work too much. And I've been out a lot with friends, I mean there's a wedding coming up along with a girls getaway trip to Wales. Maybe I should just cancel, hopefully I can get my boss to give me some time off" I Said softly, tears welling up again as I heard my inner critic yelling at me, echoing the words my aunt called me as I left the diner.
"You're a real selfish bitch!"
Alfie cleared his throat and spoke. "No 'ove. You are not at fault. You are a hard worker. You are diligent and very reliable, always ready to lend a hand and your boss knows this. That's why you and him are on good terms" Said Alfie.
"Yeah we even got invited to dinner with his family" Said Danny grinning. Alfie nodded and continued.
"And don't listen to the critic you got inside your head, right? Don't go cancelling plans just so you can please those brain dead fuckers that don't appreciate you. They are jealous of how far you've come and how well you're doing" Said Alfie. I smiled and nodded. Alfie's words were true. Thomas came over and pressed a kiss to my hand.
"You are better than them love" Said Thomas softly. I sniffled and nodded.
"I am. Thank you boys. Thank you so much" I Said smiling tearfully as my three Brits embraced me in a big, loving hug that I melted into. Feeling safe and loved.
That evening Thomas ordered some takeout for us. A large pepperoni pizza, 3 burgers, a bag of chicken tenders, chips, a pot of curry sauce and garlic sauce and a large coke. We curled up together on the couch, Alfie had got me down a few of my Squishmallows to hold since it was comforting to me. We were binge watching some "Faulty Towers" and episodes of "Murder Maps".
Tumblr media
Here I was, held and cuddled by my three lovely Brits, snuggled with Ronnie the cow Squishmallow, good food and tv surrounded by our furry pets in our warm, cosy little London flat on a rainy night. No more bad thoughts, no worries. Just the feeling loved and protected, a safe place.
Tumblr media
Hope you enjoyed the story and I was glad to write it as it made me feel better❤️ I do apologise for it being long though😅 Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. Have a lovely day❤️👍
5 notes · View notes
Text
So I know RPF is controversial and not everyone’s cup of tea (or coffee ☕️ in this case 😉), but I was super inspired to write this piece and hope I did early 90s Gary justice. I love this man for the amazing actor he is but also his good and bad points, and that’s what I tried to capture in this fic, while still keeping it sexy of course. If you love Gary or enjoy actor RPF, I’d be honored if you’d check it out and leave it some love! Not sure I’ll do any more RPFs, but this little plot bunny wouldn’t die, so I had to give it some life. ⚰️ 🩸 🦇
EXCERPT below links…
Tumblr media
"An erotic movie about a guy in a coffin?"
He frowned. "Yes. His sleeps in the coffin give him the strength to find her. When he rests in the soil of his homeland he emerges youthful... sexy... powerful..."
His eyes were fixed on your face as those confounding lips disappeared behind white ceramic again.
“Sounds like an interesting guy to play," you commented, and he nodded in agreement.
“He is. It's heartbreaking really... the man loses his true love to a deception... then he comes back as pure evil having to seduce one of the 'true lights' in the world... his love reincarnated. I get to play him all sensuous and seductive of course, but in reality he's tragic. I suppose sex is sort of tragic like that in a way, right? Giving yourself to someone, dying a 'little death' inside of them, as the French say... la petite mort... But you're not really sure if they've really given themselves to you. Or if they did, then you're united in a way, but only for a second. Is it enough?"
His eyes seemed to cloud at that moment, and you weren't sure if it was method-acting immersion into his character's tragedy or real emotion being brought to the surface by some life trouble. You suspected the latter. Of course he'd be messy... a guy as beautiful as that had to be. You'd think that would be enough to send yourself running for the Hollywood Hills, but of course it wasn't.
"I truly love characters," you began quietly. "Sometimes more than my own friends and family, I'm afraid. I love their mystery, their depth, their possibility. I love that unlike a real person, they're just there... behaviors, motives, pasts... all right there on the table to plunge into and explore. I love when their behavior makes sense, and when I as a writer can make it make sense. It's very empowering."
“I agree," Gary said vehemently. "Except you're wrong about one thing... they are real. They exist out there somewhere, and it's my job to harness them and give them a body. Like it's your job to harness them and give them words."
And that was that. You were a goner. The most perfect specimen of a man on earth— 6' 2", rippling muscles, chiseled jaw, hair of the gods— could come walking through the door of the coffee shop right now, and you wouldn't give him a second glance because Gary Oldman sat before you and just reeled your heart in like a limp fish…
5 notes · View notes
rpf-fanfiction6 · 10 months
Link
Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, British Actor RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s), father/daughter relationships - Relationship, Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Tom Hiddleston, father/daughter relationships - Character, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Series, Redemption, Sequel, older Tom Hiddleston, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Children, Teenagers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, tom hiddleston - Freeform, out of prison, Forgiveness, Attempted Seduction, Father-Daughter Relationship, Sins of the Father, Father-Son Relationship, Kissing, Freedom, Apologies, Flirting, Protective Siblings, Fear, Worry, Revenge, Implied Sexual Content, Birthday Party Series: Part 1 of The naughty teacher, Part 2 of The redemption of the naughty teacher Summary:
It had been 13 years, and Kerstin had got her life back together. She thought her past was the past, but then her daughter made contact with her father, Tom Hiddleston. in prison. Kerstin had done everything she could to prevent her children, Jacob and Stephanie, from knowing him. Will she forgive Tom or take the law into her own hands?
*** The sequel to The Naughty Teacher.
Chapter 5
1 note · View note
sillywoman01 · 1 year
Text
Chapter 5 of " A Rumble in Birmingham" is now posted on A03
Tumblr media
Credit for inspiring me writing this story goes to @lokilickedme who is a very talented writer and her Tom Hiddleston fancast fics were quite inspiring. I encouage you to check out her page. I dared to step out of my writing comfort zone to write a romantic comedy . Binge watching Bridget Jones Diary also contributed to ideas for this fic.
Fandom: Original Story / British Actor fancast
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Summary: Sammie runs into Henry on her way home and he has both surprising and unsurprising information for her. Her peaceful sleep is interrupted.
Story Summary: Shortly after divorcing her cheating husband, New Yorker Sammie Darlington decides to start over when her job offers to relocate her to their office in Birmingham, England. She’s started to settle into her new life when she meets two men at work who are complete opposites of each other that both catch her interest even if they don’t seem to show any romantic interest in her.
She tries to hide her attraction to both men and distracts herself by making new friends and finding new experiences. As time goes on she finds herself drawn in to both of their lives while trying to navigate her new surroundings in some downright embarrassing situations.
Henry is the good natured, handsome playboy, who Sammie finds herself excited to see every day, even if she thinks he doesn’t notice her as he always surrounds himself with much younger, attractive women.
Tom is her boss and next-door neighbor who is typically sullen and grumpy. He seems to go out of his way to make her new life in the UK miserable but Sammie can’t help but find herself drawn to him even if he acts like he finds her annoying.
2 notes · View notes
jomarch-wannabe · 1 year
Text
I want you (Arthur Shelby x Fem! Reader)
Tumblr media
Paring: Arthur Shelby x female reader
Synopsis: Reader confesses her feelings for Arthur
Warnings: Smut 🔞(Implied age gap, major daddy issues, kissing, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink, swearing, innocent reader), Angst (some tears), Fluff (beautiful exchange of words, Arthur being intoxicating and dreamy)
Author’s note: I’ve been in an Arthur mood lately. I just feel so bad for him honestly, he deserved better. The feelings expressed in this fic are genuine.
Better vibes if you listen to “Body Electric or Ultraviolence” by Lana Del Ray while reading
——————————————————————————
“I want you Arthur.”
He scoffed, shifting uncomfortably under your straddled legs, moving your position slightly.
“You don’t want me.” He argued with a sigh, “I’m a broken man,” he gestured to his head, pulling at his brown strands in frustration. “M’ all messed up in me head.”
In curiosity you touched his face, exploring the warmth of his skin, making his breath hitch. Your heart beat faster as you thumbed over his stubble, awestruck by the form of a man.
“Arthur,” you took in a breath, and in a sincere tone said, “I need you.” His eyes split from yours in shame, lost in thought as he observed the fireplace behind you. “Look at me.”
His blue irises found yours with the guidance of your hand, flickering with specks of orange. “I need you.”
“I don’t want Tommy, or John,” you shook your head, “I need a real man. You’re real Arthur.” Your fingers pressed over his heart. “You feel.”
His heart thumped against your fingertips, pulsing with adrenaline as he took in your words. His face softened, brows lowering as his guard did too, maybe he believed you.
“You’re really somethin special,” his eyes blinked as they took you in, dark lashes fluttering slightly, “y’know that?”
His words of praise caught you off guard, making your breath waver.
“Please Arthur.” You chewed the inside of your lip, blinking back tears. “Will you love me?” As you shared breaths for a moment your thoughts recessed into the past, remembering the absent love of your father. The pain of it all came out in an unexpected tear, rolling down your cheek and splashing on his shirt.
He took in an audible breath, triggered by your emotiveness.
“Of course I’ll love you.” He caved, reaching a hand for your face. His touch was gentle, grazing your fragile face like water running over rocks. “I promise. I do love you.”
For a moment your eyes danced over each other, hoping to communicate in their glossy movements the words you couldn’t convey.
All at once he leaned in, capturing your lips against his in a passionate kiss.
The impact took a breath from your lungs, making your shoulders drop in relief.
You couldn’t help but whimper, feeling between your legs rush with heat as he claimed you.
You kissed him back with longing. Wanting to be as close to him as possible. To consume him. To be consumed by him. To be owned by him. It wasn’t a lust, it was a need. Somewhere to place the longing. To fill the hole in your heart for a provider. A protector that you never had.
Your lips parted from his for a second, allowing you the chance to take in a heavy breath, shaking with anticipation.
He found you again, pulling you towards him with his hand sliding up your hair. His skilled fingers raised goosebumps on your skin as they snaked against your neck, pulling his pillowy soft lips against yours.
His hands on your body were ethereal. Intentional. It felt like a hot shower of kisses from head to toe, mind numbing.
Your cheek tickled with the movement of his jaw, brushing his mustache against your face as he parted your lips with his tongue.
With a breathy moan you let him in, feeling his wet tongue collide with yours. Searching for friction, you couldn’t help but grind your hips forward, stimulating your clit against the hard bulge in his trousers.
The movement earned a groan from him, vibrating against your lips.
Your hands found themselves in his hair, playing with the soft strands, wanting to feel every inch of him. Wanting him close.
They trailed down the back of his neck, warmed by his body heat.
In eagerness you spoke, breaking the kiss. “Arthur..” your lips hovered against his, sharing heavy breaths as his eyes came into view. His blue irises were nearly invisible, overshadowed by round, lust blown pupils.
Heat flushed on your skin as his hand slid to the front of your face. His knuckles bent, sliding over your cheek in tender strokes.
“Y/n..” his attention was glued to you as he took you in, “y/n..” he was awestruck, repeating your name like a prayer, realizing it was you all along.
“Please Arthur, have me.” Your hands slid over his hard chest, through the cool, thin fabric of his shirt. “Please,” there was a neediness in your voice, “I want you.”
“Are you sure?” His stroking of your cheek continued as he spoke, “Don’t want to hurt you love.”
You shook your head yes, thumbing the fabric between your fingers. “I trust you.”
Those three words set the match ablaze, never hearing such a phrase from anyone else. To be seen as a man, not a monster.
Without wasting any time he leaned forward, peppering kisses on your neck. You squirmed slightly, surprised by the sudden contact. His facial hair tickled your neck as his hands slid up your back, thumbing the straps of your dress.
“Arthur..” his name evaporated off of your tongue like an anthem, a pledge of your loyalty to him. Your hand found itself against his neck, holding on him for stability as he sucked against your pulsing veins.
His mouth work distracted you from his hand movements, only when your skin raised a chill were you aware of your bareness.
In admiration he pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, taking in your supple skin, lit up in an orange hue from the nearby flames. Gawking at your pink nipples standing erect in the exposure of the cool air.
“You’re gorgeous.” He praised, murmuring against your skin as he planted his lips in between your chest.
“Arthur please..I can’t wait anymore..” you whimpered, arching your back in eagerness, sending your chest forward.
He smirked against your skin, pulling back and holding you by the waist. His large hands around your petite frame, a beautiful contrast that made your stomach flutter. The guidance of firm hands easily maneuvered you backwards. You didn’t resist, squeaking the cushions beneath as you sunk into them, watching him hover above you.
You kicked off the remainder of your dress as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his toned chest, decorated with straight dark hair and a cross tattoo. His lean muscles rippled with his movements. The sight made you swallow in nervousness.
The chain around his neck rattled as his hands unworked the sleeves, shuffling his shirt off and tossing it to the floor.
Your abdomen caved in as you breathed heavily, admiring his angular masculine frame.
The cushions dipped with his weight as he knelt down, fingers grazing your skin as he hooked your panties, nearly exposing you if not for hand darting out to stop him.
“Wait! Can you-“ you stumbled over your words in nervousness. He noticed, curling his fingers around yours, warming them in a reassuring display of affection. “Can you go first?” You chewed your lip, “I’m nervous.”
“Yea, yea of course love.” He assured in a passive tone, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “Want you to be comfortable.”
His words brought you relief, relaxing your defensive posture. Unlike the other men in your past, he didn’t force his hand.
He leaned back slightly, sitting on his heels.
Your eyes danced over his shifting knuckles, to the glinting of his rings in the firelight as he reached for his belt, unlatching it.
The sharp metallic sound made your stomach drop. In his moment of occupation you couldn’t help but gawk at him as his hair hung over his chiseled jaw. His strong, prominent nose stuck out of the textured strands as he looked down, shuffling down his trousers until only his white boxers remained.
Anticipating his bare body made your thighs clench together, squeezing against your throbbing clit.
The fabric of his briefs slid against his thighs at an achingly slow pace, breaking the silence of the otherwise still room.
Finally, a patch of course brown hair revealed itself at the base of his length. With a huff he pulled the garment all the way down, releasing his hardened cock.
Your mouth fell agape at his size, “Christ”, you murmured under your breath. His hips shifted as he pulled the fabric down his ankles, making his length bob at the movement. He was longer than he was thick, with a crimson tip, and one vein running erect down the side.
His eyes flicked to you after he tossed his garment to the floor, catching your trance like fixation on his body.
“Like what you see love?” He chuckled, revealing the dimple in his cheek as he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
Heat spread over your face at his observation. Habitually, your bottom lip pulled into your teeth as you found him with your eyes, nodding.
“Won’t make you wait any longer then.” A shadow cast over your body as he leaned down, hovering at your pelvis.
Looking up through his brows, his fingers worked up your thighs. The coolness of his rings made your skin twitch. Finally, he reached the hem of your panties, decorated with a tiny bow in the center.
They were white. Lace. Like something belonging to a little girl. His large, muscular hands a delicious contrast as he hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling down.
A slick sheen of arousal glistened between your thighs in the light, exposing your neediness.
“Fucking hell.” He took in a breath, swallowing in nervousness and anticipation. You were a sight that was tempting beyond human comprehension. Innocent, untouched, begging to be broken. His jaw clenched as he fought to restrain himself, wanting in that moment to consume you. To ruin you. To taint you. To make you his.
Your panties found themselves on the floor with his careless hand, eager to find themselves in your flesh, groping and parting at your thighs.
In reflex your legs squeezed together, trapping his hands as you searched for friction. His eyes widened in surprise and intrigue.
“Mm.. sorry..” you let out a breathy laugh as you parted your thighs, releasing his hands. “I need you so bad.” You were writhing now, whining, about to burst.
He let out a dry chuckle, sliding his hands up your waist, over your ribs. He changed positions, leaning over top of you on his elbows. In closeness the musk of cologne and whiskey evaporated off of his skin, as he finally closed the gap between you.
His face hovered inches from yours, fanning you with his exhales as his eyes danced over your flushed cheeks, protruding lips, swollen from biting them.
You took him in, starstruck at the look in his eye. The wanting. The desire. His chest rose and fell in your line of view, skimming your erect nipples.
“Are you ready love?” His raspy baritone sent chills down your skin as he awaited a response.
The fire behind you cracked as you took in a breath, “Yes.” Your hand slid over his back, holding onto his warm, muscular frame. “Please Arthur. I’m ready.”
His thin lips pulled into a smirk of affection. He took his eyes from you in concentration, reaching for his length. His chest impeded your view, raising your senses. The bulbous head of his cock bumped against your entrance suddenly, making you gasp.
“I’ll go slow,” he reassured you, planting his lips on your cheek.
Carefully, he pushed into you, evoking a unison groan as his long cock stretched your sensitive walls out.
“Oh my god.. fuck!” You breathed in short breaths, overcome with pleasure and nervousness. Your grip on his back tightened, tugging at the shifting muscles.
“Christ.” He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as you squeezed him.
His hips pushed upward, building the pressure in your core as they collided with your thighs, burying himself to the hilt. Having him inside you created a fullness that you’ve never felt. A numbing pleasure. You pulled away slightly at the stimulation, unfamiliar with such a feeling. Each subtle twitch of his cock aroused your sensitive walls.
“You alright?” He breathed in an attentive tone, positioning his arm beside you.
You nodded, holding back a moan, “Yea, feels really good.”
With your confirmation he pulled out, leaving you empty and squeezing nothing. With a shaky breath he pushed back into you, quicker this time with the help of your slick arousal. The impeding of his length nudged a particular spot inside of you, making your toes curl.
“Do that again..” you begged, breathing heavily as your eyes fell closed, soaking in the feeling.
He lowered on his elbows for leverage, thrusting back into you with a groan. The stimulation made your eyes roll back.
“Faster.. please..”
Chasing his high, he picked up his pace, flexing his core against yours as he pulled in and out of you.
“Fucking hell love…” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, nudging it with his nose. “Y’feel so fucking good.” His voice vibrated against your neck, sending chills down your skin.
A whimper left your mouth at his praise. He noticed murmuring, “Such a good girl,” as his rhythm grew harder and faster, stimulating your nipples as his chest brushed against yours. Over and over.
His thrusting felt so good, you couldn’t help but pull him closer, hooking a leg around his to keep him inside of you. The pendant from his neck swung over you with his movements, making you twitch when the cool metal grazed your skin. The repeated intrusion of his length nudged a sensitive spot inside of you, building your climax with short, intense bursts of pleasure.
“Mmm..” you whimpered, heaving in short breaths, “Arthur don’t stop, don’t stop I’m gonna..” your thoughts cut off with a mind numbing thrust.
“Y’close love?” He managed to groan out.
His pace was intense now, creating loud slapping with the colliding of your skin.
Your arousal pooled out of you, you could feel it coating your thighs as he drew out your orgasm.
“Y-yes..”
His lips made contact with your neck, planting intentional kisses up your jaw, and to your lips.
“Look at me love.”
Your eyes fluttered open, finding his beautiful face hovering above yours, framed with greasy strands of hair hanging down.
“Wanna see you when you come.” Your hand found a place in his hair, pulling him towards you with the hold on his roots.
His lips met yours, pulling at your lips in a heated kiss. He sucked in a breath against your cheek, savoring the taste of your mouth against his.
Unknowingly your walls squeezed him as your neared your peak, making him grunt and groan against you.
You broke from his mouth whimpering, “I’m gonna-“ your eyes squeezed shut- “Arthur..” your nails dug into his back, slipping slightly from the sheen of sweat.
“Come for me love,” his raspy accent sending you over the edge, “come for me.”
His pace didn’t falter as you fell over the edge, whimpering as your thighs shook uncontrollably in ecstasy. Intense waves of pleasure moved from your stomach, down to your toes.
“Arthur.. fuck..” Your grip tightened on his flexing muscles as he thrusted in and out of you, reaching his own high with the help of your convulsing walls.
“Christ.. ah-“ his hips stuttered, “I’m coming..”
“Please Arthur, come inside of me..” you moaned breathily, moving your hand to his face.
His pace staggered as he groaned lowly emptying himself inside of you, filling you with warmth.
“Fuck…”
The shallow rocking of his hips created wet squelching as your arousal mixed, riding out your highs.
Once he was satisfied he pulled out, resting his weight on top of you as you shared heavy breaths, staring at each other in ecstasy.
“Fuck..” you couldn’t help but curse, giggling under his gaze as your hands wrapped around his neck. Your legs pulled him close to you, savoring the weight of his warm, sweaty body against yours.
“You’re fucking perfect love.” The phrase held a tone of the upmost sincerity, as his blue eyes bore into yours, shadowed with his long strands.
Your cheeks flushed at his praise.
His hand found place on your waist, rolling to his back. He huffed slightly as he changed your positions, guiding you to his chest with his hands.
A content sigh left his parted lips as he adjusted himself. You too made yourself comfortable, nudging your head into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours brought you peace as you wrapped a hand around his torso, craving intimacy.
A warmth spread over your shoulder with his hand, holding you close as he used the other to reach for a cigarette.
“Your rings are cold..”
“Shit, sorry love,” his hand lifting quickly from you to pull them off. They rattled as he sat them on the coffee table, repositioning his hand over you.
Your body raised slightly as he sat up, earning a tired moan from you as his lighter clicked. A spark of orange illuminated your skin as he cast the cigarette aflame, laying back down and taking in a drag.
His mind wandered as he let out a breath of smoke, leaving a gray cloud swirling in the dim room. The weight of you against him was soothing. Made him feel needed. His grasp tightened around you, holding onto this moment, securing you close.
“You know,” your voice held a sleepy tone as your eyes flicked over the dying flames, “They’re so cruel to you.”
“But Arthur,” you raised your head, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “I love you.”
His eyes flicked over yours as he looked down his nose, taking in your words.
“I love you.” You repeated, eyes watering with tears as your fingers thumbed his chest.
A warmth spread over your cheek with his hand as he held it, taking you in with his shiny blue eyes. “I love you too.”
A single tear rolled down your cheek at his words, caught with his finger.
——————————————————————————
Let me know your thoughts below!! I thoroughly enjoyed writing for Arthur, I don’t see many fics of him out there.
Gif from @alicent-targaryen 🥰
1K notes · View notes
Text
FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:
Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)
a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:
He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.
Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming
Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.
His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."
I could honestly give him a lil smooch
He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied
He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki
instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched
I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile
Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)
I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.
I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction
My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.
After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that
I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop
I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded
I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet
I have visions of him
One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise
honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him
I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)
He's literally an architect
I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas
i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present
my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN
I've attempted slam poetry about him
I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand
I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that
the Bimodal Distribution
First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy
154 notes · View notes
shamrockqueen · 1 year
Note
Could u write more about Scott adkins this man is A SNACC idk why ppl don’t give him that much attention he’s a MASTERPIECE especially as cain burgess and BOYKA AAHHhH
Yes!! So I’m saving a couple chapter stories for Cain Burgess and Boyka (I wanna finish many of the other short chapter stories I’ve already started before I debut more) but Next month I hope to post a oneshot for French from the debt collector and NSFW for king Amphitryon.
I would love for Scott Adkins fandoms to grow more and more everyday. I so hope the rumor about him being the next Batman is true as I think it could make his fandom explode.
4 notes · View notes
emjayewrites · 10 months
Text
Flashin’ Lights In A Midst of Darlin’ Nights (4/?)
Tumblr media
A fated encounter in The City of Lights changed the lives of an actor and singer forever. And with those darlin’ nights comes even more delights.....
Synopsis: Will Poulter can count on his hands the amount of times he’s been rendered speechless, yet that was until he met singer-songwriter EmJaye. He soon finds himself speechless and dazzled every time he’s in her presence. For Mahalia-Joy, Will hooked her in with his quintessentially British banter. However, in this ruthless industry, a couple needs more to hold onto besides quick laughs and simple awe.
Pairings: Will Poulter x EmJaye (Mahalia-Joy Washington)
Warnings: cursing, adult content, mentions of drugs/alcohol. (Rated 18+)
Taglist: @vargskelegore, @pocfansmatter​, @afro-hispwriter,  @unfriendlyblkhotti3​, @sarcasticmrfox​, @blackpearlbutterfly​, @melancholymelanin, @mochachocolatteyaya, @goldentriostan, @multi-culti-girl​, @chaneajoyyy​, @mauvecherie-writes​​, @4ftwonder​, @jasmindaughteroftheworld​, @valkryienymph, @colorfullydone, @earl-aive​, @queenshikongo3​, @blackreaderatrisk, @pulparindos, @cocobutterqwueen​, @xsweetdellzx, @certifiedlesbianbaddie​, @realhotgurlshit​,   @aieshawilliams2001, @imatrisk
A/N: I do not know Will or his family personally. This is solely fiction and any similarities are coincidental. EmJaye was previously mentioned in a Yahya fic, but her character arc is completely different/changed to fit this fic. If you would like to be tagged, please comment or DM me. Enjoy this chapter.
P.S. I made a slight change to the timeline (don’t you love fanfiction and the ability to shift stuff?). Will made an appearance on This Morning in Late July but it now happens in early August. 
San Diego, CA & London, UK  — Late July/Early August 2022
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the hotel room. EmJaye stirred, slowly opening her eyes, and she turned to her side and found Will, still lost in the land of dreams, his face framed by tousled hair as he let out peaceful snores A contented smile tugged at the corner of her lips, silently admiring the man who was steadily capturing her heart.
Careful not to disturb him, she gently slipped out of bed and made her way to the window. Below, the city of San Diego hummed with life outside, yet within the confines of their premium suite inside the InterContinental, there was a serene stillness. EmJaye took a moment to soak in the quietude and privacy, her mind filled with the events of the previous day and the newfound reality of their budding romance being exposed to the world.
The image of the paparazzo's snapshot, capturing their stolen kiss, flashed in her mind. She couldn't help but feel vulnerable. Their private moments had now become public knowledge, a topic of discussion among fans and media alike. But amidst the whirlwind, one thing remained certain — the burgeoning fondness between her and Will was genuine and steadfast.
Lost in her thoughts, EmJaye was brought back to the present when she felt a pair of strong arms encircling her waist from behind. Will had awakened, his sleepy voice filled with warmth.
"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured groggily, his lips brushing against her cheek before he placed butterfly kisses along the column of her neck.
EmJaye leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his presence. "Good morning," she replied, her voice a tender whisper.
They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, finding comfort in the silent understanding they shared. Suddenly, she turned to him, their eyes bore into one another as their lips soon met in a tender dance, a union of adoration and longing. The kiss began softly, a delicate exploration, but soon ignited into a passionate flame. Their mouths moved in perfect synchrony, the rhythm of their hearts echoing with each touch.
EmJaye melted into Will's embrace, her fingers instinctively tangling in his hair. Their bodies pressed together, a testament to their desire, as the room filled with the intoxicating scent of their shared ardor. Their kisses deepened, filled with lust and she eventually felt Will's stirring arousal.
Halting their fervent makeout session, Will gave her a meek smile although his eyes still blazed with intense yearning. "We can stop if you want. I'm perfectly fine with waiting."
"I know," she said, letting out a scoff. "You've made that quite clear after our first date."
His hands caressed her arms, his fingertips rubbing small circles into her skin. Bowing his head, Will's gaze softened as memories of their first meeting in Paris consumed him. "That night was crazy," he stated. "I was tempted to but-"
"I was under the influence," she interrupted and Will nodded. "But you didn't say anything afterward; completely swept it under the rug."
"To be honest, I didn't think that I should've brought that night up again. No one wants to be reminded of rejection."
"True," was her only reply.
"Whenever you're not intoxicated, just understand that I'm ready for whatever," Will tells her as he cupped her chin. The seriousness and deepness of his tone made a bolt of electricity course throughout her body. "You have no idea how weak you can make me. It took sheer willpower for me to walk away that night."
Emboldened with this revelation, EmJaye's eyelids drooped in intrigue and coquetry. "Really? Little ol' me makes you feel like that?"
"You do," concurred Will gruffly. "I don't think you have any idea."
"Show me."
Her taunt caused Will to elicit a growl; it came from the back of his throat and sounded primal.
This fuckin' woman will be the death of me, Will's thoughts uttered right before he unexpectedly lifted her into his arms, making EmJaye yelp in surprise. Her body nestled against his, fitting perfectly in the curve of his embrace as he carried her effortlessly to the bed, dropping her with a soft plop.
Their eyes connected as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed, his knees meeting the softness of the mattress as he moved toward her. Each movement was deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. He moved with a tantalizing slowness, savoring every moment, as if time had become an afterthought in this intimate dance.
EmJaye watched him intently, her heart racing in sync with the rhythm of his approach. She felt a magnetic pull, drawing her closer to him, her body responding to the silent invitation. The intensity of his gaze never wavered, his focus solely on her, as if she were the center of his universe. Finally, their paths converged, and Will hovered above EmJaye, his hands lightly grazing the soft sheets beneath them with his face inches away from hers.
Their kisses were filled with a hunger that could not be quelled, a yearning for connection that consumed them both. Will's lips explored every contour of EmJaye's mouth, his kisses ranging from soft and tender to demanding and intense. EmJaye's hands roamed over Will's back, her fingertips tracing the curves of his spine, igniting shivers of pleasure along his skin. Their bodies pressed against each other, a delicious friction that only fueled their passion further. Their kisses became a symphony of desire and urgency.
Steadily, their clothing disappeared into a pile on the floor, and they found themselves in nothing but their underwear. Will paused to do a thorough once-over at EmJaye. She laid beneath him like a goddess in her matching lingerie, the white lace of her bra and thong was ethereal against her skin. He licked his lips in contemplation, his growing need for her increasing with every waking second, and he kissed her. Will's hand ventured down EmJaye's side, his fingers gliding over the fabric of her bra. At that moment, his touch encountered something unexpected — a slight metal sensation against his palm. His curiosity piqued, he broke the kiss and gazed into EmJaye's eyes.
"You have nipple piercings," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.
EmJaye smiled, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yes, I do. I have a few hidden surprises."
Will's fingers gingerly explored the outline of the piercings, feeling the subtle adornments that decorated EmJaye's body. He marveled at the delicate yet bold statement they made, appreciating the way they added an extra layer of uniqueness to her already captivating presence.
But it didn't stop there. As their lips met once again, Will's hand wandered further, tracing the contours of EmJaye's exposed skin. And there, on a particularly tantalizing curve of her hip, he discovered the telltale lines of a tattoo. His fingertips gently grazed the inked design, tracing its intricate patterns.
EmJaye's breath hitched slightly as she felt the touch of his fingers on her tattoo, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. It was a piece of art etched onto her skin, a representation of her journey, her passions, and her story.
Will's mind couldn't help but drift back to the events of the previous day, he couldn't help but marvel at how quickly things had changed. With the world knowing about his and EmJaye's budding relationship, thanks to the intrusive paparazzi and their relentless pursuit of a story, he knew that their lives would never be the same. Yet, in this quiet moment, inside the sanctuary of their hotel room, all the chaos of the outside world seemed distant and inconsequential. The weight of public scrutiny and expectations lifted, replaced by a sense of ease and comfort that only EmJaye's presence could bring.
With calculated and fluid motions, Will's hands gingerly stroked her legs until they came to the apex of her thighs. Hooking his forefingers into the waistband of her thong, he removed them from her body at a leisurely pace.
"You're so gorgeous," he whispered, completely enthralled. Her legs were wide open, and he noticed her vagina glistening with her arousal. Fusing their mouths, his fingers trailed down the length of her body, and he slowly inserted two of them inside her moist depths. The warm, collapsing caves of her womanhood embraced him, taking his fingers deeper as he stroked her delicately.
"Will..." she mewled at the friction, making Will sigh breathlessly.
"My gorgeous Mahalia," he crooned to her as he kissed her neck tenderly, “you make such lovely sounds.” 
“Will....I’m-I’m a-almost t-there...don’t st-stop...”
“I won’t, sweetheart,” responded Will as his pace increased, the pad of his thumb toying with her clitoris, and causing her back to bow into an arch. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so wet for me.” 
With his hands, he pleased her, placing her closer to the edge. As much as Will wanted their bodies to be entangled in the sheets, he also knew how stressed she was and he wanted to give her some respite. And that's what he did, bringing her to a release, groaning as her inner muscles contracted reactively around his fingers over and over again until she finally burst with a soft moan and expletive. 
“Fuck...”
Will's lips grazed across EmJaye's face, leaving a trail of gentle, feather-light kisses. He started at her forehead, placing a soft peck as a gesture of affection. Moving downward, he traced the bridge of her nose, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. His mouth then wandered to her closed eyelids, bestowing gentle kisses upon each one, and settled at her cheeks, cherishing the smoothness of her skin and the taste of her natural sweetness.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice husky and deep, pulling her to her side to cuddle. Her body continued to shake with the aftermath of her orgasm, yet Will held her tightly against his chest, gently rubbing soothing circles on her back. His fingers glided over her skin with a gentle touch, creating a calming sensation that melted away any tension she held.
EmJaye nestled comfortably against him, her body relaxing with each tender stroke. The rhythmic motion of his hands worked its magic, lulling her into a state of peaceful relaxation. Her breathing became steady and serene, her body sinking into a state of deep calm. The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breaths, the only audible reminder of their presence. Will continued to rub her back, maintaining a steady rhythm, until he felt her body surrender to sleep.
As EmJaye peacefully drifted off, Will pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head, staying there for a moment as he relished in the intimacy they just shared. 
     __________________________________________________________
EmJaye and Will found solace in the tranquil oasis of their hotel’s rooftop pool. The sun's rays danced on the water's surface as they swam, basking in the warmth of each other's presence. It was a haven away from the chaos that enveloped the world, where they could simply be themselves.
A radiant smile illuminated EmJaye’s face as she playfully splashed her feet in the pool, relishing the cool water against her sun-kissed skin. Ever the attentive one, Will watched her with adoration, his eyes tracing the curves of her body, the subtle tattoos peeking out from beneath her swimsuit. 
EmJaye floated effortlessly through the water, her body moving with graceful ease. Will, unable to resist the allure of her presence, joined her, their bodies intertwining in a dance of playful affection. Laughter echoed around them as they splashed and frolicked, cherishing the simplicity of their private paradise. Leaning her head against Will's chest, his steady heartbeat lulled her into a state of tranquility. His arms wrapped protectively around her, providing a sense of security amidst the whirlwind of attention. The poolside oasis cocooned them, shielding them from the prying eyes and probing questions.
But even in this idyllic sanctuary, the world had a way of seeping in. Will's phone  rang with notifications, drawing his attention away from their blissful respite. With a sigh, he hopped out of the pool, dried off his hands then reached for his phone to unlock it, only to be greeted by a flurry of messages from friends and family and notifications from various gossip accounts on Instagram and Twitter. 
EmJaye, sensing the change in Will's demeanor, peered over at Will, her brows furrowing slightly. She knew the realities of being in the public eye, but that didn't make it any easier to see their personal lives dissected and analyzed by strangers. 
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
Will's gaze met hers, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "It's nothing, really. Just the internet doing what it does best: gossiping and stirring up controversy."
“Just like they have assholes, everyone has an opinion,” joked EmJaye, treading closer to Will and leaning on the pool’s coping. “What’re they saying, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
Will ran a hand through his hair before joining EmJaye once more, taking a seat close by, his legs dangling in the clear, shimmering depths. The gossip mill buzzed with speculation, particularly focused on their racial differences. EmJaye, with her gorgeous brown skin, and Will, with his striking blue eyes and dirty blond hair, became the subject of intense scrutiny. Will's jaw clenched, his fingers gripping the phone tightly, as he absorbed the range of opinions that scrolled before his eyes. The internet was an unforgiving place, where judgments and stereotypes thrived. 
“Not so nice stuff,” he finally answers. 
“Do I even want to know?” 
“Just narrow-minded people being assholes.” 
EmJaye drew nearer, settling in between Will’s legs, feeling his warmth envelop her in an embrace. The weight of the hurtful comments hung in the air, but EmJaye refused to let it consume them. She traced circles on his hand, her touch gentle yet firm, grounding him. “Let’s just focus on us from now on and block out everything. I think that will help in the long run. We can’t let outside forces come into our space.”
Will's tense expression softened as he gazed at EmJaye, grateful for her understanding and unwavering support. He took a deep breath, exhaling the negativity that had clouded his mind. He knew all too well that the relentless scrutiny and hurtful comments could take a toll on anyone's mental well-being, and it was important for them to establish boundaries to protect their mental health. "You're right, Mahalia. We can't let them define us. We'll limit our exposure to those hurtful comments and won’t engage in toxic discussions."
EmJaye nodded, her eyes filled with determination. "Exactly. Now, let’s focus on something more appealing.” 
“Such as?” 
A mischievous smile played on EmJaye's lips as she leaned in closer to Will, her voice barely above a whisper. "How about we create our own oasis of happiness right here, right now?"
Will's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he caught on to her playful suggestion. He mirrored her smile and gently brushed his fingers along her cheek. "I like where this is going. I’m surprised that you’re still up for anything after the eventful morning you’ve had.” 
Images of earlier that day flooded her brain. “What can I say? I'm a woman of boundless energy," she replied, her voice laced with seduction.
“Indeed you are,” said Will, his voice deep and husky. He pulled her closer, their bodies melting into each other as they reveled in the connection they shared. Their lips met once more, a fiery and passionate kiss that ignited the air around them. 
Will touched her body with a gentle yet firm caress, exploring every curve and contour. EmJaye's skin tingled under his touch, her senses heightened by the intensity of their desire. They moved together, their bodies in perfect harmony, dancing to the rhythm of their shared passion. Their hands roamed freely, tracing paths of pleasure along each other's skin. They reveled in the sensations, the heat and electricity igniting a fire within them. EmJaye's breath hitched as Will's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake. 
“Do you want to go back to our room? I’m sure other guests wouldn’t enjoy seeing us fuck in the pool.” 
Arching a brow, EmJaye stared at him intently. “Oh, so we’re fucking now?” 
Will gave her a half-shrug. “Listen, at this point, we might as well, especially how I’m giving you these orgasms back-to-back.” 
“You motherfucker,” she teased, nudging him in the abdomen. “You’re getting so cocky nowadays.” 
“Maybe you’re just getting to know me, sweetheart. I’m always like this.” 
"Is that so? Well, I guess I'll have to keep discovering more of your... impressive qualities then."
Will chuckled, his voice filled with anticipation. "I'm all yours, sweetheart. Let's head back to our room."
They disentangled themselves from their heated embrace and made their way out of the pool. Hand in hand, they grabbed their belongings and towels before walking back to their room. EmJaye couldn't resist the opportunity to playfully tease Will, which made him smack her backside lightly, eliciting a surprised squeal from her. 
"Consider that a taste of what's to come," he whispered in a deep baritone.
Inside their hotel room, the air was charged with desire, their lips reuniting in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of their longing and hunger for each other. Clothes were shed with an urgency that belied their desire to be skin against skin. As they sank onto the bed, their bodies melded together, a seamless union of pleasure as time seemed to lose meaning as they explored each other with fervor, their moans and sighs filling the air. 
Will’s mouth charted a sensual path down the column of her neck to her rib cage before landing right back at her chest. He tasted her breasts, his teeth teasing her nipples until they hardened to ripe dark points. Will relished in her taste, loving how the mixture of her flesh and the metal from her piercing drove him mad with lust. He continued to kiss her there, sucking and biting and ultimately leaving hickeys in his wake as he made his way down to her mound, inhaling the essence of her femininity. 
A swathe of heat swept down her body and she writhed beneath him, moaning his name with her pleas. He desperately craved to taste her, to feel the sheer tightness and wetness of her inner depths on his tongue. In the tiny oasis of their hotel room, he had the opportunity to truly discover every crevice of her body with no intrusion from the outside world. 
Placing a kiss along the inside of her thighs, Will slowly parted her womanhood open with his fingers, burying his head deep, his rapacious tongue cradled her sensitive flesh. He held her tightly as her hips bucked, holding her in place as he feasted on her. Slowly, his right hand trailed upwards, exploring the curves of her body and the firmness of each of her breasts, toying with her pert nipples while the other separated her folds, increasing the pressure of his tongue on her clitoris. 
Gusts of ecstasy consumed EmJaye and she tangled her hands into his hair. “Baby....oh my G-God,” she moaned, moving her hips to the rhythm of his tongue as he ate her as if he was a starving man. “Please...please...y-yes...” 
Emitting a cry, her body began to shudder as she reached her pinnacle, her orgasms overlapping themselves. 
“What a good girl,” noted Will against her thigh, savoring her juices on his tongue. As expected, she tasted incredible and he only yearned for more. Lying beside her, Will played with her breasts, caressing her pierced nipples as EmJaye’s breathing began to regulate. “I enjoy making you feel like this, sweetheart. You don’t understand how happy it makes me.” 
Propping her chin on her elbow, she turned to face him. “I’m definitely enjoying it, but don’t you want to feel the same way? I can—“
“There’s no need,” Will interrupted. “Besides, I can wait. I’m as patient as they come.” 
Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Aren’t you tired of getting blue balls? I just want to make you feel as good as you make me.” 
“And you will,” he says to her as he tucked a strand of her behind her ear. “I’m focusing on you at the moment. I love exploring your body and giving you pleasure.” 
She gave him a tender smile, her heart swelling with gratitude as relief washed over her. Although she’s only been with two other men besides Will, her desires were overlooked or dismissed, not to mention that her pleasure was not being prioritized. Knowing that Will saw her as an equal partner, both in and out of the bedroom, made their shared moments of intimacy that more special.  
“Thank you, baby.” 
Will beamed. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, bring your sexy self over here.” 
Growling, Will snaked his arms around her waist to cuddle and EmJaye couldn't help but giggle at Will's playfulness, feeling a surge of warmth and affection as he pulled her into his chest. As they cuddled, EmJaye let out a contented sigh, basking in the safety and comfort of Will’s arms as they relaxed in their small slice of peace. 
  __________________________________________________________
(Several weeks later)
Will sat in his dressing room at This Morning, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming segment. Part of his new role consisted of promotional tours and press junkets. And although he wasn’t opposed to doing this, with the world keen on his relationship with Mahalia, he felt indifferent. At least he was able to discuss not only his time filming the new Guardians movie, but spreading awareness to one of the charities he supported as well. 
He was grateful for those three days in San Diego with Mahalia as well as the nights they’d spent together in bed, exploring each other’s bodies. Will enjoyed that special time, getting to know one another better. And despite them not having penetrative sex, he felt closer to her than ever before.
Out of the blue, his phone buzzed, signaling a new voicemail. Curiosity piqued, he unlocked his phone and pressed play to listen to the message.
“Hey, sweetie! I’m in Budapest with Zendaya right now, visiting her on set...I hope you don’t mind...just figured it seem like the best decision since the only thing I’ve got going on right now is finishing my album. I can pay half of the rent or whatever if that helps. I don’t know...I miss you a-and I just want to be around you, and I was wondering...would it be too much to ask if I could stay with you for a month or so?"
A mix of surprise and excitement washed over Will as he listened intently. Mahalia’s throaty voice carried a sense of determination and hope that resonated deeply within him and echoed in his brain.
“I just want to be around you...I miss you...”
Will's heart raced as he absorbed her words. The thought of her coming to England and staying with him sent a wave of happiness and nervousness through his veins. He glanced at himself in the mirror, a smile slowly spreading across his face. This unexpected turn of events felt like a sign, an opportunity to deepen their connection in a whole new way.
Completely reeling from her voicemail, his cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a held breath, the anxiety of it all clearly getting to him. He’d hoped he saw her in the next few weeks in London for a date or two, yet spending so much time with her, albeit great, was unexpected. In the back of his mind, he felt as though they were rushing too fast, however, he understood from personal experience with ex-girlfriends how critical those first few months are, especially with his hectic schedule. And Will couldn’t deny the magnetic pull and chemistry he had with Mahalia. He wanted to build something with her, and from the conversations he had with his family and friends about her, everyone in his circle supported him.
Plus, being under his roof gave them the privacy they so desperately needed in order to grow their relationship. With a grin on his face, he composed a text message to her:
Will: Hey, beautiful. Just listened to your voicemail, and I can't even begin to express how happy it made me. Yes, absolutely, you can stay at my place while you finish recording your album! No need to worry about expenses or anything like that. My home is your home, and I can't wait to have you here.
He pressed send, his thumb hovering over the screen for a moment before finally letting go. The message flew across the digital space, carrying his genuine affection and support to Mahalia.
“We’re ready for you, Will,” announced a producer with a kind smile, bringing him back from his reverie.
Following behind the producer, Will placed his phone on vibrate and pocketed the device in his jeans.
Will sat in the comfortable chair, surrounded by the bright lights and cameras of the This Morning set. The hosts, Alison Hammond and Dermot O'Leary greeted him with warm smiles as the interview began.
"Welcome back to This Morning, everyone. We have a very exciting guest joining us today, the talented actor, Will Poulter!,” Alison announced.
"Thank you for having me," Will replied, returning their smiles.
Dermot leaned forward, his voice filled with curiosity. "Now, Will, we've heard some incredible news about your upcoming projects. You're set to make your debut in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. Can you give us any hints about your character? "
Will chuckled, feeling a gentle flush rise to his cheeks. "Oh, I wish I could spill all the details, but you know how tight-lipped Marvel can be. What I can say is that it's a dream come true to be part of such an iconic franchise. I'm incredibly excited for everyone to see what we've been working on."
Alison leaned in, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "We can't wait to see you in action, Will. And speaking of exciting news, congratulations are in order. You've been nominated for an Emmy for your outstanding performance in your recent project. How does it feel?"
Will's smile widened in happiness as he reminisced about getting the call from his agent. "Thank you so much! It's truly an honor to be recognized for my work in that particular role. I poured my heart and soul into it, so the nomination means the world to me. I'm grateful for the opportunity to have worked with such a talented cast and crew."
“So, Will, there have been some rumors swirling around about someone special in your life, a certain singer-songwriter by the name of EmJaye. Love her music! Care to give us any clues?” asked Dermot.
Will's lips curled into a playful smile, and he looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He knew that his fans were eager to know more, but he had always been a private person when it came to his personal life. However, a mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he decided to indulge them, but only a little.
"Well, I must say, there is someone who holds a special place in my heart," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mystery.
Alison raised an eyebrow, sensing the intrigue. "Oh, really? How did the two of you meet?"
Will chuckled softly, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "We actually crossed paths at a fashion show. It was one of those chance encounters that you never expect but end up being truly life-changing."
"And how are things going between you two? Are you in a relationship?" added Dermot.
Will's smile grew more enigmatic, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of fondness and secrecy. "I've always been someone who prefers to keep my personal life private, and that won't change. But I will say that I'm grateful for her presence."
Alison couldn't help but press further, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Will we see any collaborations between you two? A duet, perhaps? I mean we know you can sing from watching The Score!"
Will's lips curved into a playful smirk. "Well, you never know. We're both passionate about our respective crafts. But for now, we're just enjoying each other's company."
“Well, it sounds like exciting times ahead for you, Will. We can't wait to see your debut in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and, of course, to hear more about your blossoming romance. Thank you so much for joining us today,” noted Dermot.
“Thank you both for having me. It's been a pleasure.”
As the interview wrapped up, Will couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunities that had come his way. From his upcoming debut in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 to the recognition of his talent with an Emmy nomination, his career was flourishing. And alongside it, he had found someone special in Mahalia, a person who brought joy and inspiration to his life. With a smile on his face, Will looked forward to the future, ready to embrace the adventures that awaited him both on and off the screen.
________________________________________________________________
Mahalia: “Thank you so much, Will. I really appreciate it. I’ll probably get to London by the end of this week. I’m on my way to dinner with Z and Tom – Hey, Will! What’s up, mate! – Z and Tom says hey. Yeah, I’ll call you soon.”
Will chuckled at Mahalia’s voice message as he hurried inside the cozy pub, his breath slightly labored from rushing to meet his friends after the whirlwind of his interview on This Morning. Kola and his visiting Maze Runner costars, Chris Sheffield and Dexter Darden, were already seated at their usual corner table with pints in their hands, their laughter and banter filling the air.
"Hey, sorry I'm late, guys," Will said, sliding into the seat next to Dexter. He placed a bag from Selfridge's on the table, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
Kola's eyes widened, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "What's this? A Selfridge's bag? Will, you've been shopping?"
Will chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a hint of bashfulness. "Well, you know, treating myself a bit."
Chris raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Treating yourself with fancy shopping, huh? Don’t tell me, more sneakers?"
Dexter joined in, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Knowing Will he probably got some Nike’s."
Will laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, not this time. Mahalia is staying over at my place, so I got some things for the house."
His friends' mouths dropped open in disbelief, their eyes wide with astonishment.
Kola finally found his voice. "Wait, hold up. Mahalia? As in the incredible musician EmJaye? She’s coming here? Staying at your place?"
Will nodded, a warm glow of pride illuminating his features. "The very same. We've been spending a lot of time together, and she needs to finish her album."
Chris let out a low whistle. "How the fuck did you pull that off? Holy shit!"
Will shrugged modestly, a gleam of happiness in his eyes. "Sometimes, life surprises you. We just connected on a deeper level when I was in San Diego."
Kola's curiosity got the better of him as he eyed the Selfridge's bag. "Alright, spill the beans, Will. What's in the bag?"
Will's grin widened mischievously. "Extra towels and I...uh...got...silk pillowcases."
Kola smirked, unable to resist a well-timed joke. "So, Will, did you google 'what to buy when a Black woman stays at your house'?"
The table erupted in laughter, and Will playfully rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, you lot. No, I didn't need to google anything. It's about making her feel welcome and comfortable, no matter what."
Dexter clapped him on the back, chuckling. "Well, I have to hand it to you. You're really going all out."
"Well, well, our Will has certainly grown up. Who would have thought he'd be playing the role of the perfect host? We're impressed, man,” noted Chris.
“I’m still surprised that you’ve pulled her!” Kola stated in astonishment. “Like how? You grow some balls quick, eh?”
“Fuck you, Kola,” Will responded in jest, throwing a used napkin at him.
“What?” Kola laughed, holding up his hands in innocence. “I’m just asking the questions that everyone wants to know. Not to mention, you refuse to give details and you promised me you’ll kiss and tell.”
“I’ve never said that.”
Just when Kola was about to respond, a waitress walked to their table.
“Can I get you anything?” she asks, placing a hand on her hip.
Will flashed a charming smile at the waitress, his demeanor unfazed by her slightly standoffish attitude. “I’ll take a pint of Guinness, thank you.”
The waitress let out an exasperated sigh, her eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance as she jotted down his order. "Fine, one pint of Guinness coming right up."
She then turned on her heels and marched away, muttering something under her breath. Will exchanged amused glances with his friends, their laughter echoing through the pub. Despite the waitress's sour demeanor, the camaraderie and joy among the group remained unshaken.
Kola couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, looks like she's not a fan of our Will's charms."
Will shrugged, his grin undiminished. "Can't win 'em all, right? But hey, at least the beer here is good."
In the midst of it all, Will couldn't help but feel grateful for the genuine connections he had with Kola, Dexter, and Chris. They were there for him, teasing him and cheering him on, just as they had always been.
As the night drew to a close, the group made plans for their next get-together, already looking forward to the adventures and laughter that lay ahead. They were a tight-knit crew, and as they said their goodbyes, they couldn't help but feel fortunate to have each other in their lives.
With Mahalia's upcoming stay at his place, Will pondered on the prospect of sharing his home with her, of creating new memories together, igniting a spark within him that burned brighter with each passing moment.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
93 notes · View notes
olderthannetfic · 2 months
Note
https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/741535020460736512/httpswwwtumblrcomolderthannetfic740933819656
The strangest thing about this fandom is that I feel like the kind of fanfic that people like this person LIKE (I don't know who this person is but just guessing based on their Takes) reads as a lot more racist to me. Like people who can't seem to be able to write Julian Bashir, a character who was not given any specific racial or cultural background in the actual show (which was apparently his actor's choice) other than maybe Vaguely British, as having this very like, stereotypical idea of what it is to be Middle Eastern/North African. And obviously it's one thing if it's someone who is MENA writing about their own culture - you can usually tell when that's the case, IME from fanfiction - but when you get people who are not MENA and aren't particularly informed on the culture other than reading a few Wikipedia articles, and feel the need to write him like visiting relatives in the desert who are all wearing thawbs or something... like I'm sorry but I think that just says a Lot that you can't view an Arab character without doing that, and that you seem to think it's a Problem With The Show that he's not already depicted that way!
(And some of these people do at least a minimum of research but some don't - I remember seeing one fic that said that Persian was a dialect of Arabic. Buddy. Pal. They aren't even in the same language family. Persian is more closely related to English than Arabic...)
I think it was brought up in an earlier ask in this chain about how a lot of people are focused on Represent the Culture and dont' realize how acting like everyone of a particular ethnicity has the same cultural background is itself racist, and particularly the idea that non-white people from Western countries (and Europe especially) somehow can't truly be Of That Country. It just really makes me feel like a lot of this discourse is being increasingly driven by people other than who it affects, because that is something that I hear people who are minorities living in Europe complain about constantly.
--
42 notes · View notes
cbk1000 · 5 months
Text
I will say getting weird asks about the concerning amount of gay porn I would have to consume in order to be able to write gay fanfiction does bring back fond memories of when asks used to be much more frequent, and sometimes you'd wake up to the most batshit insane take in your inbox that you've ever seen.
RIP to that astonishingly racist Korean weeaboo who for some reason assumed I'm black and would send insane messages ranting about my skin colour to someone who doesn't even have a light suntan and whose ancestry is pasty British people as far as the eye can see.
To the OG 'akshually it doesn't hurt men at all if you hit them as hard as you can in the testicles' anon who picked the strangest hill to die on and the most random place to do it.
To the anon who decided to compliment (?) me by telling me it was fake and hypocritical to recommend fics other than my own because I knew I was the best writer in the fandom (??) and it was disingenuous to...pretend otherwise by...talking about writing I liked??? (Still puzzled about this one to this day, fellas.)
To the anon who decided to send me the most random, antisemitic rant about the media.
And to the myriad super horny anons I got over the years because strangers thought my inbox was a good place to detail their sexual fantasies, sometimes about the actual actors who played the fictional characters I write about.
You were all real ones.
29 notes · View notes